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viloxity · 6 months ago

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Fluctuating Skies (Part 1 of 2) — Yandere! Sung Jinwoo x Female Reader

Part 2

Synopsis: The scenario where the Monarchs rule Earth and the Shadow Monarch finds you in the New World.

A/N: this is one of two parts (he’ll get more unhinged, don’t worry). additionally, this is cross posted on quotev under the same name (viloxity). Any and all feedback or comments are greatly appreciated!!!

You loved the sky.

The sky was beautiful, and perfect. It was never-ending; even when you stared until your eyes burned, you could never find the ending—or the beginning. You would stare, and stare, until you noticed the clouds. The way the clouds explored the skies’ vastness, steadily drifting towards their next unknown journey, gave you hope in this fickle world—a world where you were not sure if a tomorrow was guaranteed.

Each distortion that filled the skies—the skies you have started to despise—spelled an inevitable demise as humanity endured even worse losses. As you took exams at college, there were lines outside of hospitals. The day of your graduation, as you walked the confetti covered balcony, there were bodies lining graves—the A-rank dungeon break nearly flushed out a small city an hour away from you. That day, your supposed ‘celebration’ encompassed hesitant smiles and reluctant whispers that congratulated you on your success.

“At least we are still here.” You recalled a woman saying, scolding the looks on her family’s faces.

You looked at the sky, your tassel gently flowing with the motion of your head. Eventually, the monsters will take over this land. They will overwhelm humanity’s strongest fighters and wipe out the population in clusters. You could feel the anger pooling, then, at your helplessness. Average civilians were so weak, so useless. It hurt that you couldn’t even protect anyone, let alone yourself. Why, why were you born so weak—

Your emotions stilled at a cloud that slowly passed over the sun. Your heart was calm, beating slower.

Even when the world ends, the sky will remain unchanged—unchanged, vast, and still beautiful.

Then, the world ended.

You still remembered the day as if it were just yesterday, when the gates appeared—the roaring sounds oscillating across the entire country and its diameter devouring the peaceful summer sky. The action of itself was unjust—not because it triggered the apocalypse, but because it tied in a pacifist to the unyielding destruction of the entire world. There was a brief intermission between the gate openings and the flow of monsters; realization of the situation propelled Darwin’s theory of natural selection into motion. You were lucky to have broken out of your stupor, yelling out that everyone should run—maybe you saved some lives that day.

The screams were just as loud as the tremors that shook the earth once the rampage began. You could not focus on anything else but the shrieks, and the vile sounds of slicing of innocent faces you would now never get to meet in this lifetime. Once again, you were helpless to the world around you. No awakening, no power, no ability to do anything. The best you could do was silence your whimpers and hope it all stops.

Was your family okay? You thought as another scream fell silent. Where were they?

You looked at the sky for a miracle, but all you could see was that damned gate.

“Thank you.” The stranger’s trembling hands folded over the small bread bun, his eyes full of shame and gratitude.

You nodded, then smiled. “You can pick up water from the well just North of here.”

The man nodded his head, repeatedly murmuring ‘thank you’s’ with his voice growing hoarse as tears dripped down his eyes. He had not moved to start eating yet; you could feel his hesitance even after you gave him the bun. You nodded once more before making a swift exit. From a few meters away, you could distantly make out the sounds of biting and chewing.

Your heart felt content. It was warm, sometimes, but it was hard for the heat to linger long. It was hard to fan the flames in the first place; humanity had dispersed into fragments, with remnants of a sound society lost long ago. You also had not heard of a single word regarding your family, no matter how many villages you crossed or people you asked—you assumed them dead on the day of the Parade.

Yes, the day of the Parade. The day of the nightmare you wished to forget, the crossing of endless monstrosities, and the mark of the end of humanity. By some miracle, despite the constant onslaught of dragons and beasts crossing the gates, you lived. Back then, people agreed how fortunate you and others were to be able to hide—after all, if you didn’t hide, you ran. Yet, all you could feel was turmoil brewing within you.

Was it really something fortunate?

The people you loved; your family, friends, they were all gone. Your accomplishments, career, vanished the moment the gates flooded open. Back then, you were playing a game of ‘pretend’—those serene smiles and unsaid thoughts renounced the oncoming catastrophe as a tale of make-believe. You wanted to shout at the survivors that nothing was ‘fortunate’ anymore, that you all were apart of scrapped pages ripped from a fable that deemed your lives forfeit after its story reached the end. You were dirt on the ground, now; organic matter that existed as sustenance for better life forms.

Then, there was the sky. The sky you had loved and cherished deeply, was an entity that you blamed. It was the sky’s fault; something that symbolized tranquility and freedom was replaced as a symbol of the beginning of the end. Beautiful, were the bright explosions that blinded and wrecked cities. Vast, the lines of gates that it held. Limitless, the rows and rows of monsters it brought from within. No longer a constant variable in your life, it was something that reminded you of the day you lost everything.

At least, that’s what you thought back then.

There was more to life than you realized when you found the first village. You had trekked far from the city, and far from your home. You did not know where you were walking, and it looked fruitless based on the lack of your supplies. By a stroke of luck, a group came across you while you were slumped on the floor. They pitied you, offering to take you to their sanctuary—the last of humanity’s efforts to survive.

Upon arrival, you noticed the structure itself looked flimsy, with a handful of people walking through rubble and around deep holes in the ground. It also looked poorly built; houses were built from logs and leaves, with some looking as if they could fall over any moment. But, that didn’t matter—what mattered were the people. A person stood in the middle of the village; you could only make out his shouts and pointing in different directions to assume he was the leader of the village. You watched as men moved to build another house, the same poorly structured house, as others ran away to seemingly get supplies. The women occupied their time by cooking and playing with the children, and you nearly cried at how carefree the children looked.

Despite everyone’s losses, they still moved on. You all were specks of dirt in the ground, but together—as soil—you could erode even the hardest of rocks.

You stopped momentarily, turning behind a piece of wooden wall that was left from a now-destroyed-shed. You peeked around the corner, seeing the man feast on the tiny bun. Good, he was eating. You originally volunteered to assist outsiders, thus had been handing out bread buns the entire day to lone scavengers roaming the outskirts. Although you could no longer take care of your family like you used to, at least you can try to ensure the nourishment of others.

You sighed, relief sifting down your body. You shifted through your bag, feeling the weight of a singular item. You had one more piece left, meaning your work wasn’t over, but you had exhausted nearly the entire outskirts. Perhaps you should take another lap around again—

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw what looked to be a dark, blackened figure. It reminded you of the black spots you would get when you were dizzy or fatigued, so you turned your head for a better view.

There was… nothing. Everything was dark, covered by a half-broken roof and the rapid growth of moss and vines. You felt as if… something was staring at you. It was like a sharp pinch, as if there was a pair of eyes piercing like a needle into your soul. At the same time, you felt tired; enough so that if you were to close your eyes right now, you were sure the abyss would greet you in response.

Your eyes swept the shed, noticing a faintly drawn outline that was swaying within the void of darkness. You made contact with a pair of dimmed gray hues, its stare so bold and cold that a shiver quaked through your body. It was tempting to conclude that it was just some illusion, some petty trick on your mind so that the pill was easier to swallow. The longer you stared into the gray depths, the more you couldn’t look away.

What was this feeling?

It was not only that you felt your heart pump strenuously, but the surreality of your condition. You felt and heard your heart pump simultaneously with the feeling of adrenaline hitting your bloodstream. Your arms and legs tensed out of instinct, causing you to wince as your muscle fibers moved and pulled across your bones. The several cracks under the soles of your feet trembled slightly, as if matching your fear.

You wanted to look away so badly. You are too entranced now; a rabbit trapped under sharp claws as the wolf stared down its prey.

Please, please, please, look away.

No, this feeling—

You are remembering that day again. God, why even remember now?

It must be a coincidence—but it couldn’t be. It feels so much like…

Like…

Like those beasts.

Those beasts that walked where the sun did not follow.

They appeared in shaky and inky black forms. They would appear, and whatever they would do, would always result in a calamity. You heard the most screams from them, always.

“I’m paralyzed.” You thought, realization sinking in.

Is this the end?

Then, a sigh.

A deep, long, aired out sigh.

In an instant, all the pressure building within your frame vanished. The tension on your sarcomeres lessened, like a weight slowly floating off your shoulders. As the rush dissipated, you are left with trembling hands and shaky legs. Your senses came back to you, one by one.

Your head shot up, fearful eyes meeting wary ones. You see a figure, now—which looked to be a man—but it was odd. His frame was fluctuating between reality and obscurity, like he was struggling to pick the right balance of tenebrosity or to succumb entirely to the veil of night. His stare engraved holes into you; it was lucky that you hadn’t deflated into a balloon, most likely due to the restraint on his aura.

Aura… his sheer presence is powerful enough to knock you unconscious, that much you could tell.

To be truthful, you were clueless as to his actual thoughts. Initially, his presence was concealed—only emitting essence that you now thought was a warning. Maybe you pushed a button or two, seeing as he actually appeared in front of you. If anything, you were slightly grateful to know that you weren’t entirely crazy and that there was an actual person in the shed. However, you couldn’t read his expression at all; firstly because he wasn’t conveying anything, and secondly because you were too scared to try.

Neither of you moved; the shock having knocked the breath out of you and the stranger seemingly studying you.

Then,

“Go home.”

His voice was deep, so low in octave you imagined the sound waves still bouncing around your ear drums. In any other situation, it would’ve soothed you, as you envisioned singing lullabies or the humming of baritone tunes.

But, you also weren’t stupid. The man’s wording was specific—a demand. In a sense, he was a king; a ruler who offers you mercy after finding you in contempt of the sovereign because you tried stepping on his land. Unconsciously, your legs moved, recognizing that the lord gave you permission to leave—words your being waited on with bated breath to live another day.

So, you ran, not realizing that you dropped your bag of items, nor the growing smile on the stranger’s face.

That man, he never left your mind.

Somber gray eyes, and a complexion that rivaled Greek gods. His hair was as dark as the shadows devoured under his silhouette. He was more than ordinary, representative of a being that practices and deals in absolute power. There were only a handful of people who were gifted with abilities like that, back when the very first gates opened.

Right, now you remembered—they were called hunters. Hunters were classified into different rankings, all the way to S-rank and even national level hunters. To be a hunter, you were granted a certain seed of power.

If he were to be like anything else back then, could he have been a hunter? An S-class, even?

It was rare to come across ‘hunters’ anymore, the label long disbanding alongside the association that coined the term. When they appeared, it was considered a bad omen. Either they were chased by the Monarchs of the New World (for the risk they held) or isolated by the unawakened out of fear. Perhaps, the man was the last of the hunters—of the humans who could fight back at all.

Either way, you wanted to see him again. The more reflecting you did, the more you registered his seclusion; he is far, far from the remnants of civilization.

Regardless of the fear you felt, or the possibility of death, he was still human. He was someone who lost everything, just like you and everyone else.

The destination was a long and grueling walk from the current village you stayed at. Passing by outlanders, you gave out food and supplies as normal, while steadily making your way towards the shed.

Would he still be there? It was hard to say. Most remaining hunters were known to be nomads; staying in one place for longer than a day was like shooting fish in a barrel for their next enemy. You were not sure if he was a hunter in the first place, too—it was your latest profound superstition to be proven by whatever little luck you had left. As you treaded further, the familiarity of your surroundings fill you with perpetual dread. You began to second-guess your courage to embark on this trip in the first place, thoughts clouded and eventually drowned out by faint whispers inside decaying wooden walls. The moment your final step reached the broken shelter a hush filled the air, the shed girdling the edge of the forest encompassed by a heavy silence.

“Hello?” You called out to no one in particular.

You nearly surprised yourself with the surge of bravery to make out your greeting. You peeked into the shed, hands waving through vines. There was no one around the entrance, despite you hearing multiple voices.

Odd.

You weaved through a few cracks in the floorboard before being greeted by gray eyes. You jumped, obviously, because you did not expect him to be in such close proximity to you. He was a till a few feet away, but you could have never spotted him if he chose to sit closer to the wall. He was indeed discernible now, sitting under a small stream of light gifted by the sun. His shadow dragged along the box he sat atop of, sinking behind its crevices before pushing itself onto the wall and absorbing its shade. In any other universe, you would’ve described it as strange. In this case, you thought it supported how outlandish—and isolated—he must be.

“You’re back, what a surprise,” The man said, expression clearly detached. “I thought I scared you off.”

This was going to be difficult.

“Right. I was, but I thought it would be better to introduce myself since we got off on the wrong foot—“

A half truth, but you were also cautious.

“—my name is Y/N.”

He was burning holes into you again—the stare wasn’t any less discomforting than the previous time. His silence, too, was deafening. A sudden urge to scream to at least get a reaction out of him rose within you, but you quickly simmered it out.

The stranger’s eyes narrowed slightly as he let out a faint hum.

You winced. “I wanted to give you something that I couldn’t last time.”

You quickly plucked out a wrapped item, hastily tearing through the covering to reveal a bread bun. You weren’t able to catch a glimpse of his face, opting to shift the bread onto an elevated surface so he wouldn’t be incentivized to lunge at you.

“I hope that this helps you, even if it isn’t a whole lot.” You said, nervously picking your cuticles.

The silence was very, VERY heavy, and—can he please say something?

You looked up and caught the man’s wide eyed, dazed state as his eyes lingered on the bread. It reminded you of a skeptical stray cat at a crossroads when offered an open-hand. The man’s eyes met yours, then, and all you could think was how much better he looked without baring his teeth at you.

“You’re funny.” He dryly chuckled, faint smile betraying his nonchalance.

You offered a small smile, blissfully unaware of his next few words.

“I’m Jinwoo.”

And,

“See you tomorrow?”

“Are you a hunter, Jinwoo?” You asked after placing down the wrapped bread.

You wanted to use his name in some way, lest you forget it or say it wrong. It was ironic you carried over some of your social habits after the end of the world, like a puppy you once fed.

“You could say that,” Jinwoo replied simply.

“Could?” You echoed.

He must’ve noticed your frown, adding, “Not like it matters now.”

He had a point; the name lost its meaning awhile ago. Still, you were ruffled by his restrained disposition. Surely, the label still had meaning to him.

…No, that was an unfair presumption. Jinwoo knows his own memories and emotions better than everyone, especially you. Besides, it wasn’t worth arguing the semantics on the basis of mere suspicion.

Thus, you decided to let it go.

Ah, that reminded you—he never told you his last name.

“You don’t have family?”

“I did.”

You perked up. “…You lost them, too?”

Jinwoo closed his eyes, licking his lips. “Because of the Tragedy, yes, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Then, he squinted his eyes curiously. “I’m more interested in your story.”

You coughed suddenly, shocked by his gravitation towards you. Maybe it was because all you had to offer was bread and stories, or because you never took the chance to settle with your memories, but you felt compelled to talk.

And talk, you did.

Jinwoo was an excellent listener; he was levelheaded and passive, allowing you to just… talk, and talk, and talk (with a tendency to sigh or huff as remarks). You were spilling your family’s entire life story, grasping this fact in the middle of talking about your sister’s fiancé’s secret affair, but you found that you didn’t care. If you weren’t able to come to terms with your family’s passing before this, perhaps someone else can remember in your stead.

Did he care to remember every single detail, anyway? Probably not.

“Hold on—I lost track of the time. Crap, it’s getting dark.” You said, rushing to readjust your cloak. If you started the walk now, you might make it before it’s fully dark.

“It’s rather late, it wouldn’t be safe for you to leave.” Jinwoo said, rough voice clipping louder than your hurried shuffling.

“Did you like my stories that much?” You joked.

You waited a few beats of silence. “Sorry, bad joke; I wouldn’t have any place to sleep if I stayed, anyway.”

The shed violently shook at the end of your sentence, causing your heart to lurch in your chest. You latched onto the metal pole next to you, clutching tightly as you waited for the shaking to cease. Within seconds, Jinwoo was next to you, gently but firmly holding your arm; in moments, the quaking stopped.

“Must’ve been an earthquake.” Jinwoo noted, tone and expression laced with unconventional serenity.

Your quivering hadn’t stopped after the vibrations ceased. In fact, it increased exponentially because you were still trying to comprehend the glimpse of Jinwoo’s vibrant, deep purple eyes etched with absolute unadulterated fury.

You were deluded, you thought quickly as your breathing hastened. You were tired, surely.

“I should go home.”

His breathing stilled.

“Don’t forget about me tomorrow,” Jinwoo said, sounding strangely hollow as his iron grip slowly released you.

Once again, you ran away from his grasp.

#sung jinwoo x reader #sung jin-woo x reader #sung jin woo x reader #solo leveling x reader #yandere sung jinwoo #yandere sung jinwoo x reader #Yandere sung Jin-woo x reader #Yandere solo leveling #Yandere solo leveling x reader #yandere #yandere sung Jin woo x reader #yandere x reader #Jinwoo sung x reader #yandere jinwoo sung x reader #Yandere jinwoo sung #sung jinwoo #sung jin-woo

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bratscave · 3 months ago

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this blog got me feeling some typa way babesssss

dreaming about a young professor reader who thinks logan is constantly condescending to her when he asks about her lesson plans or curriculum… but he just doesn’t know how to start a conversation with her.

so when she has a bad day and snaps at him about his constant ‘patronizing’ he’s obviously very amused. because he’s honestly been looking for an excuse to chat with the hot, way too young for him piece of ass in a pencil skirt.

bonus points if he bends her over her desk and fucks her like a whore on it. and bonus bonus points if she thinks about it when she comes to her classroom the next day for class to find him leaning on it.

gotta feed the monsters in us i guess

ugh i need to write some logan smut to post already

I LOVE YOUR BLOG ITS SO- *animal noises*

- visionsofcarnality 🤭🫶

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ — a lil' help !

The past few days have been hell, actual fucking hell. You had never imagined that the kids would be so... unnerving. It turned out that they cared a lot less about genetic mutation biology then you would've thought. All you needed was a cigarette and a calm, quiet office for god's sake — no interruptions, especially not logan. “Got your curriculum figured out for next week?” his voice, low and rough, cut through the silence as he leaned against your doorway. You stiffened, feeling that familiar sting of irritation. It was the fifth time this month he’d asked you something like that, and every time, it grated on your nerves. You knew you were younger than most of the faculty, barely in your mid-twenties, but did he have to rub it in with his constant questioning? As if you didn’t know what you were doing. “Yes, Logan,” you replied, barely masking the edge in your voice. “I have it under control.” You didn't like how your words had absolutly no affect on him, he didn't move, didn't budge, didn't back down. It was like he was waiting or searching for something, “You sure about that? You look like you could use some help.” “I don’t need your help, Logan. I don’t need you constantly questioning me about my lesson plans, my missions or my fucking curriculum. I’ve been doing this for years, and I don’t need some — some condescending jackass acting like I’m not capable.” His mouth parted in surprise yet his lips twitched in amusement, "Really? Is that what you think I’ve been doin’? Condescending to you?” You shake your head, looking through the papers for tommorow, you couldn't deal with this today, "Yes, that's what I think." Logan pushed himself of the door frame, his fingers instantly moving to your shoulders like he was trying to reassure you, "You're young. You're new and you're trying your best, but you're feeling a bit...overwhelmed." You took another puff, finally looking up to his face. "I appreciate," the tone you use sounds almost sarcastic, "your concern but I'm getting by just fine." Yet you feel his finger absentmindedly trace over the skin of your neck as you lean back ever so slightly, almost on auto pilot. “Logan,” you said, trying to inject some authority into your voice whilst putting out the cig in a close ash tray but it came out breathier than you intended- His proximity was doing things to you, things you didn’t want to acknowledge, let alone act on. But Logan, perceptive as always, didn’t miss a beat. He didn't decide to comment on the little faltter in your voice, just brushes one of your hair strands behind your ear, the action feels intimate, a bit to much so. His hands work on gently pushing you down onto the desk, your face pressed against the cold surface, his rough fingers work on riding up your skirt. If you're not mistaken you can hear the fabric of your panties ripping as you scoff, "Y'know you could've just taken them off." It sounds more like a statement then a question, not that you'd really be intrested in one when all you could think bout was his dick. "That's no fun," you could faintly make out, the dull sound of his belt hitting the floor also, "You don't even understand how much i've been imagining you, like this — you, and your damn skirts." Your hands clench into fists on the desk, your knuckles turning white as you try to keep some semblance of control as he thrusts into you. He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he pounds into you, his breath hot against your ear. “This what you needed, darlin’?” he growls, his voice rough and strained with his own pleasure. “Needed someone to fuck that stress right outta you?” He’s fucking you like an animal, hard and fast, and it’s exactly what you needed. The desk creaks beneath the force of his thrusts, with this pace you could perfectly forget about all those kids that make you lose more and more brain on the daily. That's exactly what you think about when you see logan leaning against your desk the next day, all innoccently yet gazing u you like he was about to eat you alive, in front of countless of children.

You could certaintly use his help every now and then — not on the curriculum of course.

#.🎀⋆ logan! thoughts #THIS ASK AJSJSJSK #also thank u thank u thank u #logan howlett #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett fanfiction #hugh jackman #logan howlett imagine

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hypodermicfroggy · 4 months ago

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= PROJECT MOON LORE GUIDE =

(I've posted a guide like this on Steam, but I figure it couldn't hurt to put an updated version on Tumblr, too. Also, a warning: This post is going to be very, *very* long.)

Hello, current Project Moon fandom and future/want-to-be fans!

Do you enjoy Limbus Company but don't know how to get into the other games and media to appreciate the greater lore of the series? Do you not actually have the money, time, or patience to endure a brutally punishing (and sometimes even janky) roguelike management sim, deckbuilder, or gacha game because we live in a capitalistic hellworld like the one this very series criticizes? Struggle with getting access to supplementary materials due to controversies and language barriers?

(Pictured: PM Twitter and the Limbus Steam Forums, on any given day. Seriously, what is wrong with some of you people.)

And especially important: hate how Reddit and Steam are full of dudebro coomers who are openly hostile to F2P, non-day one players who might grapple with all the previous issues on top of being more invested in story than waifus?

Then read on under the cut!

= o = o = o = o = o = o =

This guide contains a comprehensive list of resources for you to be able to enjoy the Project Moon series to its fullest, including links to wikis, playlists, and more. Even if you can't play the games, I personally think those who can actually appreciate the series shouldn't be gatekept from the truly fantastic story and world that the games hold. Except Canto 6, we don't talk about Canto 6.

AND AN IMPORTANT REMINDER: THERE WILL BE SOME SPOILERS FOR CERTAIN PARTS OF THE SERIES, AND PLEASE ACKNOWLEDGE THE CONTENT WARNINGS BEFORE YOU GET INTO ANYTHING HERE! This is a very dark series that tackles and shows very heavy topics and content!

For those who can't read the text on the image, some of the common trigger warnings for this series includes:

Animal Cruelty

Drug Use

References to Alcohol and Tobacco

Injury and Dismemberment

Homicide and Suicide

Violence and Torture

Cannibalism

Kidnapping, Abduction, and Captivity

Psychosis

Diseases, Seizure, and Dyspnoea (aka shortness of breath)

Familial Homicide and Domestic Violence

Reference to Clowns (Coulrophobia)

Themes of Occultism and Spiritualism

Audiovisual Depictions of Gore

Uses of Sharp and Pointed Objects

Hospital and Medical References

References to Gaslighting and Bullying

Body Modification and/or Deformation

Flashing Lights (Photosensitivity)

Disorientation Induced by a Shaking Camera

Strong Language and Demeaning Words

Reference to Traffic Accidents

Uses of Guns and Instruments of Violence

Discriminatory Violence

Religious Torture and Violence

Enforced Ideology and/or Actions

War and Mass Conflict

Anyway, if all that didn't scare you off, on to the guide!

= o = o = o = o = o = o =

=WIKIS:

When in doubt, there's always the wikis for being references and useful sources, from gameplay to story elements!

>>Cogitopedia - A WIP wiki run by members of the community, working on adding in-depth content for all of the games and supplementary materials.

>>LobCorp Wiki - Has data on every abnormality, including inaccessible ones and cut ones (such as Price of Silence).

>>Library of Ruina Wiki - Has the lore from key pages, and also has cut content like the CGs from the original planned ending.

>>Limbus Wiki.gg - Has ID Uptie stories and info about Mirror Dungeon encounters. (DO NOT USE THE LIMBUS FANDOM WIKI, IT HAS BEEN ABANDONED/VANDALIZED.)

>>Library of Project Moon - A WIP fan blog whose purpose is to consolidate translations of the literary source novels and related works for Limbus Company and the PM games as a whole.

= o = o = o = o = o = o =

=LOBOTOMY CORPORATION:

Summary: Lobotomy Corporation is the first game in the series. It is a roguelike management sim where you play as "Manager X", tasked with handling employees and various monsters known as Abnormalities in order to generate daily quotas of a power source substance known as Enkephalin and a mysterious "Seed of Light" project. You are aided by an alleged team of AIs known as the Sephirot, and your very own personal assistant AI, Angela. It's often been likened to "anime SCP Foundation."

This is the game where everything begins, and without it, we wouldn't have the plot of Limbus (or anything else for that matter). This is where the Golden Boughs come from, this is where Abnormalities come from, this is even where Distortions come from - but we're getting ahead of ourselves on that front.

>>This playlist will allow you to watch all the cutscenes from the game, in order, for the canon ending.

>>This video also has the cutscenes, albeit not in order, HOWEVER, it does have the alternate, non-canon endings A and B (which are timestamped in the link for convenience).

youtube

>>WordsmithVids (also on YouTube) also has what is generally considered to be the most popular summary of the game.

youtube

(NOTE: Some people disagree with WordsmithVids and his interpretations of some of the characters as well as his content being "meme-y," so I advise you to watch at your own discretion and draw your own conclusions. That being said, if people have better recommendations, please send them to me instead of just complaining and bitching without offering solutions like that one guy on Steam did, thank you.)

= o = o = o = o = o = o =

=WONDERLAB:

Summary: Wonderlab was a webcomic by the artist MIMI/Whitezombies, originally posted on the Project Moon Postype account. It follows the adventures of several employees - often called "nuggets" in fan parlance - Catt, Taii, and Rose, in a Lobotomy Corporation branch facility as they go about their day to day activities.

This webcomic was taken down after the Summer 2023 Incel Controversy, when incels stormed the Project Moon office in Korea and made enough credible threats that the former Limbus CG artist known as Vellmori was fired, and it is currently part of a second conflict over copyright. However, primarily for archival and personal reference purposes, the comic has been saved and rehosted in several forms.

>>Internet Archive version. This has just the comic in an on-site readable format.

>>A backup archive on Google Drive. This features the individual pages, a downloadable .zip of the archive, and a readable Google Docs version.

For those who may have ethical concerns about downloading a webcomic that was pulled due to controversy (understandable), once again, >>WordsmithVids has a summary.

youtube

(NOTE: This is NOT the place to discuss either the Summer 2023 incel controversy *or* the current (Summer 2024) copyright conflict. There are far better places to do that with people who are far better informed on the topic than I am. This post is solely for providing references and archives of lore material to help guide people into this series. DO NOT attempt to bring up the controversies here, I will not be acknowledging them outside of mentioning why certain supplementary materials may have been pulled and have had to be mirrored. I am just an archivist, not a lawyer or discourser.)

= o = o = o = o = o = o =

=LIBRARY OF RUINA:

Summary: Library of Ruina takes place some months after the events of Lobotomy Corporation. A "Grade 9 Fixer" known as Roland finds his way into the mysterious, tower-like Library that has sprung up in place of the former main facility of L Corp, where he encounters Angela and the other Sephirot (all now Librarians). He begins assisting her in finding "the perfect book", which involves enticing people to come to the library through the sending out of curious invitations.

Now, unfortunately, there is not a playlist that splits up the cutscenes or puts them in order for Ruina.

>>These two videos have them all in compilation.

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HOWEVER. A wonderful and dear friend of mine (@citroncynique <3) has allowed the guide they sent me to be reproduced/copied.

>>As such, there is a guide on how to watch the cutscenes in the order that makes the most sense, utilizing the timestamps of the previous two videos. It is not a perfect system, but it works at least.

>>WordsmithVids also has at least two summary vids out.

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However, due to financial issues at last update, he has not been able to continue his summary of Ruina. I am including them regardless. >>As well as his Patreon in case people want to support him in hopes of making it easier for him to work on the vids again.

>>There is also an almost FOUR HOUR LONG video essay that delves into Angela's character specifically after the events of LobCorp and Ruina. It is not required viewing like the rest of the materials here, however, I think it still deserves a mention just for the amount of effort and care that went into it.

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= o = o = o = o = o = o =

=DISTORTION DETECTIVE:

Summary: Taking place at roughly the same time as Library of Ruina, two Fixers known as Ezra and Moses and an N Corp. Taboo Hunter known as Vespa investigate the Distortion Phenomenon that is rapidly starting to spread across the City after the events of the previous games.

Originally released as a webnovel on Project Moon's Postype, Distortion Detective has 42 chapters and is technically incomplete/on hiatus. Project Moon, surprised at how popular the webnovel was, decided they wanted to potentially make an entire game based on the story. As of this writing, that has not happened (yet) but at least one character from the novel has appeared in Limbus Company, so there is still hope yet.

>>The DD series in its original form on Postype. This version was posted chapter-by-chapter, on Project Moon's Postype account and is (as of this writing, at least) still readable there.

>>A backup archive on Google Drive. This has the entire webnovel in a single document format (both Docs and downloadable PDF) featuring NishikujiC's official chapter illustrations up to Ch. 26, and includes the now-cut comic adaption of Ch. 19 by the artist Monggeu/koug99.

= o = o = o = o = o = o =

=LEVIATHAN:

(Lord, this one. Like it wasn't a big enough pain in the ass already.)

Summary: After the events of Library of Ruina, and operating as a direct prequel to Limbus Company, Leviathan follows the Color Fixer Vergilius (aka the Red Gaze) as he grapples with his own personal traumas and comes into conflict with the Ring Syndicate, before being recruited as a guide for the LCB.

Leviathan originally started as a webcomic by Monggeu/koug99. Health issues with the artist resulted in the comic being discontinued and turned into a webnovel, whose translation was never completed and had to later be finished by fans. The comic portion has since been taken down as of the Summer 2024 copyright conflict and controversy, much like Wonderlab was. Once again, however, this has been mirrored for archival and reference purposes.

>>Original source of Leviathan on Postype. Due to the copyright conflict and the translation hiatus, the only chapters available are Ch. 12-15. The link is still included for posterity reasons and just in case the copyright conflict results in the chapters being restored.

>>A backup archive on Google Drive. This link includes the comic chapters, as well as the SnakeskinFS English fan translations for the last five chapters that were never completed, all in PDF form.

= o = o = o = o = o = o =

=LIMBUS COMPANY:

Summary: After all the events of the previous games, a mysterious up and coming business known as Limbus Company has taken it upon themselves to send a group composed of 12 "Sinners" and their mysterious clock-headed Manager Dante to delve into the now-abandoned L Corp facilities in search of mysterious artifacts known as Golden Boughs.

Finally we come to the end of the shrubbery maze. Limbus Company is the latest chapter in the currently unfolding story of Project Moon and the City, a gacha game being used to fund other projects under the company umbrella.

Many people, once again, have ethical concerns about patronizing a gacha game. I for one agree with them, even as one of those patrons.

>>This playlist features all of the cutscenes for each part of the game story released so far (up to Intervallo 6.5-2/Murder on the WARP Express as of this writing).

>>There is also this site, which operates as a pure datamined text archive of all the story content.

>>And this site, which has all the in-game Observation logs as told by the Sinners, about the Abnormalities and enemies encountered in-game.

= o = o = o = o = o = o =

=BONUS/SUPPLEMENTARY:

This section, liable to be updated at any given time, is for links to materials or fan-creations that don't necessarily fit with the strictly canonical story materials found in the games and webnovels themselves but which otherwise provide useful resources or analysis. Note that the vast majority of material here is supplementary and not required, but recommended.

(Except the literary sources. You will read those, and that is a threat. I can't take another Wings-forsaken illiterate opinion on Canto 6, I'm going to start Distorting and biting people if YOU PEOPLE DON'T READ THE DAMN SOURCE NOVELS.)

YouTubers and Video Essayists:

Frey Chaqma - Frey has done lots of work for the PM community, such as spearheading the Absolute Pride Resonance charity event for Pride Month 2024 as well as discussing the lore of the games and the City as a whole.

Tsunul - Another YouTuber who discusses lore but who also often delves into more interpersonal matters relating to the fandom and controversies that can affect the game community as a whole.

Esgoo - Although Esgoo does not necessarily get into lore so much, they are often tauted as one of the biggest names in the fandom for, if nothing else, their meta-analysis and basic gameplay/strategy material, as well as their community involvement.

hydrojoy's essay on Benjamin - in addition to Angela, hydrojoy also did an in-depth analysis on Benjamin, aka B, aka Hokma, from Lobotomy Corporation and Library of Ruina and their impact on the story.

MetiNotTheBadGuy's PM Character Essays - Meti has done several excellent character breakdown videos on some of PM's most notable villains/characters, including Roland, Kromer, and Dongrang.

= o = o = o = o = o = o =

=ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:

Citroncynique. For being a truly amazing artist, putting in the effort of making a watch guide for Ruina's cutscenes, and getting me into this series and ruining my life forever by jingling a bugman with PTSD in front of me (<3).

MIMI/Whitezombies, Monggeu/koug99, NishikujiC, and Vellmori. Although several of these artists have left PM and the community on bad terms, I still think their efforts should be appreciated and supported, now more than ever.

SnakeskinFS. For finishing Leviathan's English translation.

Folex, Bek, WordsmithVids, hydrojoy, and the Lobotomy Corporation Archive. For posting their cutscene and summary/analysis videos.

NeedsMoreDoge. The Steam user who provided the original guide and backup on how to read Leviathan that I myself utilized.

The less than pleasant members of the community who spurred me into making this guide in the first place, out of pure spite.

And of course, readers like you and those members of the community who make me so happy to be here and be a part of this fandom. Genuinely, thank you all, I have never felt as welcomed as I do in the Project Moon circles I run in.

In addition to the references included here, I recommend you get involved in your PM community as well! Join communities and Discords, support content creators on social sites, help contribute where it's needed and in whatever way you can! The best way to counteract the worst elements of any fandom is to be a guiding and helpful element in your own right.

Thank you all for reading, and I hope this guide helps you out!

#Project Moon #Lobotomy Corporation #Lob Corp #LobCorp #Library of Ruina #Limbus Company #lore guide #references #reference guide #croak.txt #ONCE AGAIN IF YOU HAVE RECOMMENDATIONS: PLEASE LET ME KNOW #the ones listed are the ones that I simply could personally verify #especially do this if you can recommend YouTubers #as I do not really consume YouTube content and I already had one person yell at me for it

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naffeclipse · 6 months ago

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Woohoo! I'm opening up writing commissions! My job slows way down in the summer and I need a little cash, however, I want to make this clear: this is not replacing the usual writing that I regularly post. I will continue to write stories and share them. This is a way to earn money while continuing to do what I love.

I will be taking commissions on a 3-slot round basis as indicated on my Ko-Fi. First come. First serve.

Please click on the read more for more information! (I also transcribe my commission info above.)

Word Count - Prices:

1,000 — $25 1,500 — $35 2,000 — $50 2,500 — $60 3,000 — $80

Will Do:

Romance Platonic Love Angst Fluff Hurt/Comfort Mild Violence/Gore/Horror (ask me via Tumblr Ask) Suggestive Themes

Won't Do:

NSFW Incest Hateful, Offensive Themes Minor Romantic Pairings DCA x DCA (i.e. Sun/Moon) (ask me via Tumblr Ask if you're unsure what what counts as 'won't do')

Posting:

I won’t post any commissions on AO3. I will post it to my Tumblr with your permission. I will keep you updated on your commission as needed. You will receive the finished piece via E-Mail or Discord (your preference) in PDF format.

Extra Notes:

Payment is accepted only via Ko-Fi in the commissions tab, then we will discuss your comm on Ko-Fi messages. I will write any DCA in AUs I’ve created (I won’t write Sleuth Jesters Eclipse, but I will write Bloodstain Fool Eclipse, Syzygy in Dedication Sun and Moon, etc.) I won’t write any AUs/DCAs that belong to someone else. Original AUs, monster OCs, monster prompts, and Creature/AU DCAs are okay. Comms will be Second Person POV non-gender specific.

More Notes (Please Read before Commissioning Me):

I will write shipping fics with the DCA, AUs of the DCA (I won’t write any AUs/DCAs that belong to someone else), and Monster OCs! So long as it's a relatively non-human being (e.g. robot, vampire, alien, swamp thing, ghostly entity, mermaid, etc) I'm down to write your scrumptious monster boyfriend/girlfriend.

I also accept prompts if you're unsure of exactly what you want but have an idea for something e.g. 'the reader discovering Mothman on the side of the road' or 'the reader repairing a Ruin Eclipse' or 'the reader with a swamp creature Sun'. I will happily run away with a prompt if you so desire.

My writing commissions are strictly pairing fics (either romantic or platonic).

All fics are written in second-person POV and are strictly non-gender-specific.

I will contact you on Ko-Fi Messages when I am ready to get started with your commission. Please be prepared with your request at the time of purchase.

We will then discuss your request. I will write a detailed outline of what I plan on writing. I will show you the outline, rework it at your desire, and once your approval is given, I will begin writing.

I will deliver your final piece in a PDF format via E-mail or Discord (your preference).

With your permission, I will post your fic to my Tumblr (you can be anonymous if you wish).

Cancellations are not allowed once I begin writing after the outline is accepted. Refunds will not be issued under any circumstances past this point so you need to be sure you're satisfied with the outline before I begin writing!

I ask for your patience, however, if I don’t contact you after 3 days of radio silence without at least an update on my situation/your commission after payment, please feel free to message me on Ko-Fi for an update.

Again, I ask for your patience, however, if I don't contact you after 2 weeks of radio silence after confirming your commission and starting on it, feel free to message me on Ko-Fi for an update.

Lastly, this is my Ko-Fi where you will find the commissions tab. You can also find my Ko-Fi in my pinned post on my Tumblr. Thank you for reading! Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#naff's writing commissions #edit: updated

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sister-lucifer · 9 months ago

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Alien to Earth

[Unnamed Alien Creature x Gender Neutral Reader]

Genre: Smut

Content/warnings: Disembodied smut scene, porn without plot, implied dub con, the alien is male but no gender is specified for reader, penis in ambiguous hole sex, weird monster dick

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

“I wonder what you’re thinking right now,” it whispers, two of its hands gripping tightly to your thighs, forcing your legs open, a third arm wrapped around you to hold your fragile human body to his chest, and the last with its palm pressing into your lips, keeping you silenced. It’s not moving its hips, not thrusting at all, but its cock slithers slowly in and out of you on its own, expanding and retracting and making sure to hit as deep as it can. It’s easier for the creature that way, to be able to focus on holding you and only that.

“Maybe you’re not even thinking at all,” it muses aloud without a hint of emotion to its voice, “Perhaps you’re too preoccupied. Human minds can only focus on about three things at any given moment, even two is a struggle, but let’s say you are. Perhaps you’re thinking of me, that would be amusing, wondering how the fates aligned for me to find you here at just this time…”

It sucks in a breath, then exhales slowly, the air filtering out of the cavities in its chest, and you can feel it against your back. It’s harder for it to breathe on this planet.

“Or perhaps you’re worried about what I’ll do when I’m done with you,” it continues, and the chuckle that follows is dry and unfeeling, a flat imitation of humor, “Perhaps you think I’m a sort of praying mantis, ready to consume you wholly once I’ve finished. Although, a little human like you wouldn’t exactly be filling…”

It seems to consider your body for a moment, adjusting its hold on you a bit but not relaxing its grip for even a second. Its cock starts to undulate a bit faster, stretching out even more and hitting even deeper. You can nearly feel it in your stomach. You wish you could scream.

Your entire body is spasming with every expansion now, shaking desperately in a futile attempt to cope with the torture this creature is putting it through. You pray every time its cock pulls back that maybe, just maybe it’ll let up this time, but it doesn’t hear you.

“Perhaps you’re scared,” it goes on, its face now nestled in your neck, “Perhaps you’re worried your primitive human form can’t handle a…mm, what do you call it? A cock of my size, though I performed all necessary calculations to ensure you could. Perhaps you’re worried I’ll split you right down the middle…”

For the first time, its voice trembles. It’s cock twitches inside you. Something has excited it.

“…Perhaps you’re wondering if you could even survive such a raw ravishing.”

#alien x reader #gender neutral reader #smut #monster smut #monster fucker #monster x reader #smut drabble #drabble #writing #monster x gender neutral reader

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dokries · 6 months ago

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cat’s out of the bag

pairing: jeon wonwoo x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers

word count: 2k

warnings: mentions of food/drink (no alcohol), someone trips and falls (yes, in love but also literally), author doesn’t know how to describe games

author note: hehe thank you for the request again anon! i’m making this its own post because as you can tell, i wrote a lot more than i expected to….also yeah, i don’t know how to describe games, i’m sorry. (the game i mention is actually a real one if you’re interested!) my first time writing wonu, i hope you like him ♡

masterlist

“do you want a drink, wonwoo?” joshua waits until his friend looks over at him before continuing. “seokmin brought cola if you want some…?”

wonwoo shakes his head, pointing to the can of monster in front of him on the living room table—as soon as he saw the familiar packaging, he had grabbed it before anyone else could have even looked at it. joshua shrugs before giving you a pat on the shoulder as you sit down on the small couch, squished between wonwoo and chan.

there’s a big get together happening with all of his closest friends, and well…their other friends too. their group of thirteen is comprised mostly of extroverts after all, and one of them, namely seungkwan, is why you’re here in the first place.

wonwoo knows you from before though; you always make sure to wave at him when he talks to seungkwan and even started up a conversation with him the other day about his gaming setup, even if you aren’t necessarily that informed about those kinds of things. he appreciated your attention though, and slowly after that, he saw you everywhere. at little parties like this, in the library during the weekend, and even at his house, when mingyu had invited you over with seungkwan.

surprisingly, he doesn’t mind your questions, and you’re always respectful of his boundaries. in fact, you seem to read him well—you know when to not push further or sit in content silence with him.

you say hi to chan, pinching his cheek to get a smile out of him before turning your body to greet the other man beside you. “hey, wonwoo!”

he nods at you, taking a sip of his drink, hoping you don’t notice his robotic movements. he can’t help but be conscious when he’s right next to you, your elbow dangerously close to his right knee.

to be perfectly honest, he didn’t know exactly when he started acting like this around you; it isn’t like there was a big moment where he realized he liked you more than friends. however, once he became aware of it—he was staring at his ceiling, about to sleep one night—he couldn't help himself from being so…careful around you. the funny thing is that even though he’s like this, you always end up making him comfortable enough to forget it—it’s dangerous for him to be so at peace around you, should he let his impulses win and actually confess one day.

chan leans forward to see the both of you with a smirk on his face before putting an arm around your shoulder casually, and takes note of how wonwoo slightly adjusts his grip on his drink. chan calls your name smugly, his eyes watching the both of you (but especially wonwoo, so he can tell all the guys to tease his older friend later). “so…anything new?”

“oh, i—” you start to speak but wonwoo cuts you off with a sigh in chan’s direction. “come on, don’t they tell you anything? they went to the beach recently, and then walked along the trail for a good few hours, even though it was dark and they were by themself. i don't know if it was last week or the week before that, but they also got some new plants—though i’m pretty sure they were for their neighbours more than themself, right?” he finishes, looking at you for confirmation as chan gapes, eyes wider than they’ve ever been.

you have a similar expression on your face, and wonwoo clamps his mouth shut. “well, i’m screwed,” he mumbles under his breath.

chan scratches his cheek. “well, they don’t tell me that much, that’s for sure.”

he quickly excuses himself with a full blown grin on his face, and gets up to go visit the friend closest to the three of you—seokmin, who’s standing and talking to seungkwan, and another friend you don’t recognize. chan drags the two you know to the side, whispering something into their ears, and gasps emerge from their animated conversation that looks a little too much like old women gossiping.

you watch them for a moment before turning back to wonwoo—wait, is that a tinge of red he sees on your cheeks? you both stare at each other before you break the silence with an awkward laugh. “well…i uh.” you trail off, looking into the distance before you clear your throat and look straight at wonwoo with a small smile. “i didn’t realize you paid that much attention to my rambling.”

he shrugs nonchalantly (you can practically hear the hinges in his shoulder creak as he does; he is very chalant) before staring down at his shoes. “of course.” it’s you, after all, is what he adds in his head and he clears his throat, looking away.

you raise an eyebrow at his actions before changing the topic. “so anyway, about those plants…”

“wonwoo?” you call out, and he looks down at your concerned look. you laugh awkwardly before continuing. “i’m done tying my laces, so we should go catch up with the others.”

right, he stayed behind with you on the way to the ice cream shop because you needed to tie your shoelaces. you had grinned up at him, exclaiming, “safety first, am i right?”

he had shook his head in amusement before waiting on the side patiently.

he notices the way the dim light from the street lamps nearby hits you, colouring your skin golden. he thinks it suits you, with the way you continue to make him feel…warm. of course, he’s happy around his friends, even though he may not necessarily show it like some of them do; he isn’t clingy like hoshi, or sweet with his words like joshua. you make him feel slightly different though, and he’s not entirely sure what to do about it.

you seem to notice that he prefers to watch and stay quiet than join in on the antics of the group, and make sure to include him in your own little ways. he appreciates it more than he can tell you, and it’s probably the main reason as to how his affection for you built up gradually.

wonwoo crouches down to your level and touches your cheek gently, brushing a stray eyelash onto the tip of his finger. he smiles slightly, holding it in front of you so you can see it well before whispering your name. “make a wish.”

you grin, pausing to make a wish before blowing gently so that your eyelash goes off on a journey of its own in the wind. you get up quickly, lending a hand to wonwoo—he doesn’t need your help but…he still takes it. once he’s up, you drag him with you, walking quickly in the direction where the rest of the group went.

“i think seungkwan might order some weird flavour for us if we don’t hurry up, if i’m being honest.” you turn back to him with a sheepish expression before it turns affectionate. he knows that you have a soft spot for seungkwan, considering you’ve known him much longer than the others. wonwoo thinks you have one for him too, considering how much attention you pay to him specifically.

he nods solemnly—the urge to be more expressive around others so that they wouldn’t misunderstand him never seemed to apply when he was around you.

you smile, focusing on your feet as you walk before speaking hesitantly, your hand going to rub the nape of your neck naturally. “hey…do you remember that game you mentioned last week? the one with the cat wizard, i mean.”

puzzled, wonwoo looks at your face, thinking back to the time you’re talking about. right, he was talking about a game where you play as a cat and draw shapes to vanquish your enemies—he heard about one of his favourite esports players having that game, so he tried it out himself. wonwoo had brought it up randomly as the cuteness of the game reminded him of you. his explanation made it sound grander than it really was but you nodded along to everything he said.

“yeah, i remember talking about it. divineko, right?” he says, taking out his own phone to show you the signature animal on the app icon. when you nod, he gives you a content smile once his phone is securely in his hoodie pocket. “what about it?”

you bite your lip nervously before speaking. “so…i may have downloaded that game and oh my god, wonwoo.” you pause to look at him before squealing in pure joy, taking out your own device to show him your avatar—a special wizard skin on your black cat.

you look at him and then back to your phone screen, eyes widening with a realization. “dude, if this cat had glasses, it would literally be you!” you grin up at him before looking off to the side, muttering under your breath. “it’s definitely as cute as you, that’s for sure.”

“huh?” wonwoo blinks at you before shrugging, and the two of you start walking faster—after all, the rest of the guys are waiting for you.

he looks down at the street in front of the two of you, a warning on his lips as he frowns. “hey there’s a—” you cut him off with a yelp as you trip on an uneven part of the sidewalk and fall down, saving yourself from getting too injured by bracing yourself with your knees. “…weird section of the sidewalk in front of you.” dazed, wonwoo finishes his sentence before he gives you his hand to help you get up.

you take it and pull yourself up, brushing off any dirt that might’ve gotten on you. you look at him sheepishly again, and wonwoo laughs at you.

he looks forward again, and can’t help but blurt out, “wow, i like you so much, huh?” as if he has no self control.

you freeze, and so does wonwoo. did he really just say that?? he looks at you slowly through the corner of his eye, and sees you processing.

in fact, you are processing. he—HE WHAT NOW? your mouth drops open without your permission and he turns to face you, his focus solely on his shoes. wow, when was the last time he washed them?

wonwoo hesitates as he says your name, and you turn red at his gentle tone. “um, i. so cat’s out of the bag, huh?” he pauses to run a hand through his hair, moving his bangs to cover how red his ears have become.

he looks up at you, and smiles slightly as he confesses what’s been on his mind for a while now. “i…i like you a lot, actually. but not as friends.” he stumbles on his words as his arms move around quickly—he’s the most expressive you’ve ever seen him, and you find yourself even more endeared somehow.

wonwoo’s face falls slightly when you don’t respond right away. he wasn’t expecting you to say that you thought of him in the way—no, that’s a lie. he wants you to return his feelings so that he can shower you with all the love you deserve, even if he shows it quietly. besides, you’ve already shown that you get him; you’ll know what he means, even if it’s implied.

your giggling clears his thoughts away as he watches you grin with pure joy; it’s almost as if it isn’t midnight but midday for wonwoo as he looks at you.

“wonwoo…” you say before bursting into another fit of soft laughter, and he chuckles, already knowing your answer to his confession.

“actually, i feel the same way. i mean, i didn’t just approach you because i liked you—i want to be clear about that.” you pause to make sure he understands—he gives you a nod to continue—and you smile at him again. “i think i just…found out what a great person you are eventually.”

wonwoo nods again, biting back a grin before he frowns slightly. “wait. what do we tell the guys?”

you give him a sneaky smile before grabbing his arm and dragging him towards the ice cream shop you two were supposed to be at like…ten minutes ago. “we can tell them that we’re together now, can’t we?”

wonwoo uses his hand to cover his smile as he looks off to the side, his ears red. “yeah, i think i’d like that.”

#dokries works #seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo scenarios #jeon wonwoo imagines #jeon wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo scenarios #moon answers!#requests!#anons !

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charliedawn · 1 month ago

Note

Hi hi!

It's been a while since over requested anything but I've been keeping track of your posts and I am still in love with your writing style!!

I was wondering if I could have the slashers with a nurse wo already has 5 kids but is a single mom?

When it comes to her kids safety she turns into a complete animal like mama bear style....

Her children are smart in their own ways and are very close nit, but they always look out for their mother.

Thanks if you do this!

❤️ anon

P.s please take care of yourself! And drink lots of water and eat healthy meals!!!

Jason would be quietly protective, his natural instinct to shield others kicking in as he watched the kids play. He might not say much, but he’d be the first to step in if any danger appeared. He’d probably even enjoy the occasional moments when one of the kids quietly sits beside him, without fear, just being present.

But…Jason is afraid of children. He knows they can be cruel. So he wouldn’t approach the kids if he can help it. He would first need reassurance that they are good kids who wouldn’t be mean to him. I think your kids would be safe with him, but be careful as Jason is still a kid in his head and kids usually do not realise what they are doing until it is too late…

He might get scared.

Bo would put on his usual tough front, pretending that he’s unfazed by all the noise and mess. But over time, you’d notice him helping fix things around the house without asking, muttering under his breath that he’s “just keeping the place from falling apart.” And you might catch him joking with the older kids, giving them advice like an older brother might. He would eventually warm up to the kids. (And they would watch Cars together cause duh…cars. 🤣)

Your kids wouldn’t necessarily see him as a threat cause they know his true love is cars.

Pennywise and Penny would likely be the most chaotic around the kids, trying to keep them entertained in their unique way. They’d take turns clowning around (literally), teasing and laughing, but always making sure the kids were safe. Pennywise might grumble about all the work, but deep down, he’d appreciate the chaos that reminds him of his bond with Penny. Also, they would create illusions and Penny would even turn himself into a poney to have some fun with the kids. They would hence learn to be more friendly and to care for your family—as much as they care about you.

Freddy Krueger might pretend to be too cool to care at first, but he’d surprise you by keeping the nightmares at bay for your little ones. He’d even show them how to stand up for themselves, all while cracking jokes and making a game out of it. He’d never admit it, but being part of a family dynamic might soften him a little, especially when he sees how much he’s grown fond of the little monsters. 😆

Freddy *takes one of the kids and smiles* : "If you think you can just bat your eyes at me and pout and get me to do whatever the hell you want…you got another thing coming, kiddo."

All your kids start doing it and he pretends to get shot and fall.

"Aaaah ! Curse y’all for ganging up against me !"

Vincent Sinclair and Jason would be silently helpful, stepping in to create art for the kids or fix broken toys. They’d rarely speak, but their actions would show how much they’ve come to care for both you and your family. Both their gentle side would emerge more often when they’re with your younger children, especially if they showed interest in their work.

Michael Myers would be a constant presence, quietly observing and occasionally stepping in when needed. He might bond with one of the quieter kids, appreciating their silence and the way they understand each other without needing to talk. He’d be fiercely protective of your family, seeing you and the children as his own responsibility. He would also organise cooking or baking sessions for the kids—managing to make them all participate and teach them a thing or two—in case you do not have the time to cook for them.

And Brahms Heelshire—though not used to such a lively household—would probably hover around you, trying to be helpful while also seeking attention. He’d keep a close eye on everything, particularly the younger kids, and would often look to you for reassurance, wanting to be part of this new family.

Once approval give though ? He’d quickly share his many toys and board games with the kids—eager to make some new friends. He would also be happy if they invited him to play with them and end up missing them when they have to leave. He’s also be happy to receive hugs from the kids and beg you repeatedly to bring them back.

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 1990 #pennywise 2017 #slashers #pennywise x reader #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader #jason voorhees x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #slashers au

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jooba · 8 months ago

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wolfman x reader

"Imagine getting the great news that you're one of a million civilians chosen to go to a distant planet, to intermingle with the local aliens. Unfortunately, your online friend doesn't exactly seem to like that idea."

TW: MDNI, reader referred to as 'girl', sexual desires, anxiety, neurodivergent reader, reader big dumb, licking, 'virgin' reader, hand appreciation

wordcount: 2,388

Three words: Civilian Space Program. The most incredible opportunity of a lifetime (for an average Joe like you).

One word: Congratulations! The letter you held in your shaking hands almost didn’t seem real. It was glossy, professional, and signed by someone so important that it was a 100% probability that you would never breathe the same air as them. Congratulations! But it was real, and your life would never be the same. You were going to space. To meet aliens. Your poor little heart almost couldn’t take it. Breath labored, you quickly snapped a picture of the letter before posting it to all of your socials. Quickly, friends and family bombarded you with questions and excitement, just as in disbelief as you are. Several phone calls later, and plenty of assurances to those with concerns, you fell back onto your couch, still clutching the letter. In just a month, you would be boarding a vessel with 14 other civilians, shipped off to the planet Geron 6GI, and left there for 3 years to “create relations” and “cultivate a human lifestyle”. Whatever that means. All you knew was that you… were a monsterfucker… and… well… aliens are sort of like monsters too.

In your elation, you nearly missed the newest comment on your Instagram post. It was Peter, an online friend whom you had known for years. It simply said, “call me.” Peter knew about the program and how badly you wanted to be in it, but he was pretty adamant that your chances were too low. Smiling, you dialed his number. He answered on the first ring, speaking before you had a chance to.

“This is serious? You’re serious?”

“Of course! I’m freaking out, Peter. I’m going to SPACE. I’m going to fuck so many aliens, you don't even know. Well, you do know, but-”

“You’re leaving in a month?” He asked. You kicked your legs in glee, squealing.

“Yep! 3 years in space and depending on how the program goes it might go on for longer. God, should I bring my toys? Do you think they’ll even be allowed on the flight? But what if the aliens have toys that I can buy…” Your breath hitched just at the thought. There was silence on his end for a few moments.

“You’re a virgin.” Cheeks turning red, you scoffed into your phone.

“So what?”

“So you’re giving yourself away to some random alien?” He hissed the word lowly, talking in a manner you had never heard from him before. You take a second to collect your thoughts, not understanding where his aggression is coming from.

“Peter… we live in the 21st century. Virginity is a stupid construct. Besides, I uh... I’m not really a virgin, you know.”

“What?”

“Ugh, can we not talk about this? So embarrassing…” You mumble, turning to a more comfortable position on the couch. There was silence as both of you struggled with what to say next. It wasn’t like you were actually embarrassed talking about sexual things, but Peter had a way of making your stomach flutter. It was awful having a mini crush on someone online, and even worse when he insisted on hearing all the details of your life. All the details.

“I’m going to come see you.” He said, sighing into the phone. You froze, blinking in surprise. The two of you had never met in real life before, you’ve never even seen a picture of him! Sometimes, you would discuss meeting, but he lived a long flight away and schedules never seemed to work out. Over time, the thought of seeing him in person became too daunting, and you always shot him down. What if he thought you were too ugly to be friends with? What if the two of you couldn’t get along in person, and he lost interest?

“A-are you sure, Peter?” You could hear the smile in his voice as he responded.

“Of course.”

You stood nervously in the airport, shifting back and forth. People kept glancing at you, giving you curious glances. Avoiding eyes with an old troll whose beard desperately needed maintenance, you wiped the sweat from your face with your sleeve. Maybe you’d be less nervous if you had brought a friend with you to pick up Peter… Your phone buzzed with a text.

landing now

You watch as the terminal quickly fills up with tired travelers. Eyes swiping back and forth from person to person, you attempt to pick out a man to match Peter’s description of himself. But his description was so vague, all you really knew was that apparently he was tall and had brown hair.

Someone bumps into you, and your phone clatters to the ground. They quickly apologize but scurry away too quickly for you to get a good look at them. Grumbling, you bend down to pick up your phone, dusting it off and checking for cracks. When your eyes lift, your heart explodes in surprise at the wolfman standing before you. Hot! Inner you squeals. Standing nearly two heads taller than you, he’s lean and dressed very cleanly. Chestnut-colored fur streaks around his cheeks and neck, speckled with darker colors around his hairline and dipping underneath his shirt. Black eyes peer at you, squinting slightly.

“Oh, um. Hi!” You laugh nervously, tugging at your hair. “Just dropped my phone.” You wave your phone in front of you, but then quickly tuck it away when you realize how dumb you probably looked. The wolfman’s mouth slowly curls up into a predatory smile, top lip slightly gaped to allow for pointy fangs to peek through.

“You’re cute,” he says quietly, eyes appraising your figure. You have to desperately ignore the urge to cover yourself from his evaluating gaze. You laugh weakly.

“T-thanks.” You give him a small smile. The two of you stare at each other for a moment. He hikes his backpack up over his shoulders, raising one eyebrow at you. Does he want something from you…? Oh god. Despite his good looks, it’s not the best time to be flirting with someone: not when you’re waiting for Peter.

“I’m sorry. I’m.. uh… picking up a friend. Sorry.” You glance away from him, pretending to search the crowd for Peter. Why is he taking so long?

The wolfman grumbles with quiet laughter, almost a mixture of a purr and low-pitched whine. It's a rather charming sound. Suddenly, his clawed hand is on your scalp, rubbing against your hair to mess it up. He tugs certain strands this way and that, causing an absolute mess. You gasp, pulling away, quickly attempting to fix the mess he just made.

“You’re even denser in person than I thought you would be,” he says, looking extremely satisfied at your misery. His ears twitch slightly. You pause, squinting up at him in irritation.

“Well, that’s rude. And please don’t touch my hair, I don’t know you.” You take a step back away from him in caution just to be safe.

The wolfman huffs, rolling his eyes slowly. “That’s the thing. You do know me.” He pulls his phone out, and types onto it quickly, before looking at you expectantly. Your phone buzzes. A message from Peter.

right in front of you. so dense.

You can’t quiet the gasp that leaves your mouth in time. You gape up at him, astonished.

“You never told me you were a wolfman!?!”

Heart racing, you bring your knuckle up to your mouth and light chew on a finger. All these years, all the calls and long talks and he never thought to mention his species?! Oh god, you have said so many embarrassing things to him: things you would never say to a non-human. Things about giant monster cocks and clawed hands and fluffy sensitive ears and oh my GOD. You swear heat is steaming out of your ears with how embarrassed you are.

“Didn’t think it mattered,” he shrugs. He reaches up to lightly scratch at one fluffy ear, maintaining eye contact with you. It twitches at his touch, apparently sensitive. You want to coo and squeal at how cute it is, but you restrain, just barely. Gnawing on your finger, you avert your eyes. You must not look at the handsome wolfman. Must resist. Must get Peter home without drowning in your drool…

One car ride home, hours of gentle ribbing and teasing, a desperate call to the nearest fast food joint, and a change into pajamas later, you find yourself sitting on your couch, a bowl of popcorn in hand, waiting patiently for Peter to join you. He’s taking a long time in the bathroom, but you’re not too worried. It seemed your apartment was a bit too small for him, and he was constantly ducking his head and squeezing past your furniture. Admittedly, it was really charming. You can’t help but shovel popcorn into your face as you wait. You can’t wait too long, otherwise the popcorn will get stale! In the middle of licking your fingers free from butter and salt, Peter plops down next to you. You slide down the couch and end up sitting right against you. He wraps an arm around you on the couch, hands already playing with your hair. He’s dressed in loose pajama pants and a t-shirt that says ‘You are fang-tastic!’ in faded letters.

“Really couldn’t wait for me, huh.” You smile in embarrassment, pulling your fingers out of your mouth. His dark eyes quickly zero in on your glistening fingers. Grimacing, you go to wipe them on your pants, but his hand wraps around your wrist before you can. You immediately notice how much bigger his hand is than yours, and how fur wraps around his knuckles but his fingers and palm are bare.

“Let me,” he purrs, eyes drooping into half lids. He opens his mouth and a long, pink tongue rolls out. It’s rounded at the end and fades into a slight purple the further back it gets. You’re instantly drawn to it and watch in stunned silence as he brings your fingers up to his mouth. He licks a long stripe up your fingers before twisting and turning them to lap at every inch. Quickly, your fingers become drenched in hot saliva. You clench your thighs, wishing he would put that tongue somewhere else… A soft noise leaves you, and he meets your eyes again. You mentally berate yourself for having dirty thoughts about your friend. He nips gently at your pointer finger. You squeak and pull your hand away, face certainly red. You hold your hand to your chest limply, now drenched in saliva. You blink at him, words caught in your throat.

“Mmm… tastes good.” Right. Good popcorn. Ha ha… ha… The TV blares and the two of you startle at the noise. Peter is quick to grab the remote and mute it. He watches the quiet television for a moment, throat bobbing.

“Let’s talk for a moment, space girl.” His voice is almost... uncertain. You grin unabashedly at the nickname, pleased. It immediately calms you down and you find yourself relaxing.

“Sure!” You place the popcorn down and turn on the couch, facing him directly. He turns to face you as well, one leg crossing over the other. The arm around the back of the couch begins to tap on the cushion.

“Just let me talk for a moment, no interruptions, okay?” He raises an eyebrow when you open your mouth to respond, and you huff, but stay quiet.

“Honestly, I thought I was being pretty straightforward with you all this time, but with this space fiasco, I knew you weren’t exactly getting the message. Had to talk to you face-to-face. I’ll make this short and sweet, easy to understand. I don’t want you going to space.” He raises one hand when you look like you are about to object. Breathing deeply, he continues.

“Don’t go to space. Stay here. I’ll give you all the monster cock you want, promise… I’m not usually one to wait so long, but I knew during our first call I would have to take it slow with you. I’ve been biding my time all these years, slowly getting to know you, waiting for my chance. And then I saw your post. When I saw that, it left me ‘peterified’.” He chuffs at his joke, pleased.

“So yeah, I’ve got feelings for you. And a lot of them revolve around ramming my cock down your throat. Or god, knotting you,” he sighs wistfully as he speaks. He looks like he wants to say more, but stops himself.

Ho….ly…. SHIT! You’re frozen on the spot, mind racing with a thousand dirty thoughts. You’ve dreamt of this moment, dreamt of a monster desiring you. And now…now you’re presented with an opportunity.

“F-forget space! Oh my god. Peter? Peter!” You’re squealing now, your body shaking with excitement. You stand up and begin pacing, not even really aware of what you’re doing. Peter relaxes on the couch, mouth tilted up in a sly smile.

“This is crazy. Are you serious? He’s serious. I-I need to shave! And prep! Oh god, I don’t know if I’m ready for this…” You bite at your finger nervously, the beginnings of nausea twisting your stomach. Who knew that aching and wanting something for so long would have you feeling so sick?

Peter tugs at your hand, slowing your pacing.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, you nut. Just breathe.” He breathes in deeply, and you copy him instinctually. He guides your breath into something much slower, much more manageable. You smile at him gratefully, falling onto the couch.

“Sorry, this is just… a lot,” you sigh out. He shakes his head.

“Not at all. Just take it easy.” He nudges your knee with his. “Just think about it, yeah?” You nudge him back, eyes twinkling.

“So, all this time you’ve…” you question. He simply nods his head.

“But you didn’t even know what I looked like?” You're surprised when his face starts to turn a gentle shade of red. He coughs into his fist, looking away. He speaks, in a cool tone that doesn’t match his cheeks, “Yeah, I knew right from the start. Your looks are just a plus.”

Aaand now you’re looking away, embarrassed.

“Oh, okay,” you mumble.

#suggest TW #monster fucker #wolfman x reader #monster x reader #sorry #hmmm should i write more for Peter?#x reader #not a werewolf #MDNI #monster/alien/human society #not proofread #its 2 am

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tinytinyblogs · 4 months ago

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Are you defying me, darling?

The more you distance yourself, the closer they might become. Take it slow if you're unsure.

⚠️ yandere theme, unhealthy obsession, and a lot more⚠️

Hyung line, Maknae line

stray kids masterlist

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Han

The words tore out of you, a torrent of pent-up frustration. You screamed at Han, demanding he just leave you alone. The air crackled with the raw emotion, and for a horrifying moment, he did freeze. His eyes, usually holding a gentle warmth, were wide and vacant, a reflection of the shattered world you hadn't meant to create. Here's the thing: Han craved control. He wasn't some villain, not in the traditional sense. He just wanted his perfect world, one where everything unfolded like a meticulously planned story with a happily-ever-after starring you both. But your outburst, that desperate plea for space, had ripped a hole in the tapestry of his delusion. This wasn't part of the script. The unease that had always simmered beneath the surface, a constant low hum whenever things deviated from his ideal, flared into a roaring inferno. He spent the night tossing and turning, the echo of your words carving a canyon in his sanity. He couldn't lose you. He wouldn't. But to keep you, he concluded, the "soft" Han wouldn't suffice. The next day, the man who stood before you was a chilling stranger. The gentle affection in his eyes was replaced by a steely glint.

He wasn't asking anymore. Demands, laced with a terrifying desperation, spilled from his lips. He became a constant, suffocating presence. He wouldn't let you out of his sight, wouldn't tolerate an argument, wouldn't even acknowledge the dawning fear in your eyes. This wasn't the love you craved, it was a twisted obsession, a warped interpretation of your outburst as a sign of weakness, a need for him to become the 'monster' he believed he needed to be to keep you by his side. His voice dropped to a sinister whisper as he stared into your eyes, a predator sizing up its prey. "Look at me, darling," he commanded, the term dripping with mockery. He paused, letting the silence tighten its grip around you. "This whole charade? It's under my control. You have no say in it." His hand reached up, a single finger gently tracing your jawline, sending a jolt of fear through you. "Don't even think about defying me again. Leaving isn't an option. Ever. Get that through that pretty little head of yours. Now." His voice hardened with a barely contained rage. "Because next time, darling, the scream will stay trapped inside."

Felix

He sighed, a sound that seemed to scrape against your nerves. "Look," he started, his voice deceptively calm, "I might have let the first thing slide. Maybe even the second. But this? This is pushing it, love." A thin smile played on his lips, but it never reached his eyes. They remained cold, devoid of the warmth you were used to. Disappointment gnawed at you. You'd always thought him different, the one person you could rely on to be gentle, understanding. Now, faced with his steely gaze and the way he kept inching closer, you realized how wrong you'd been. "Being the good guy all the time," he continued, his voice low and dangerous, "it gets old, doesn't it?" He stopped just a hair's breadth away, towering over you. Your back hit the wall with a thud, the trapped feeling mirroring the growing panic in your chest. "Especially," he leaned in further, his breath hot against your ear, "when the person you're being good for doesn't seem to appreciate it." A single finger grazed your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. "You made a mistake, love," he murmured, his voice a silken threat. "Let's hope you learn from it."

Looking into his eyes, you saw a storm brewing within. A storm you never knew existed, a monster you never wanted to see unleashed. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring the terrifying image before you. You'd never seen him like this – his voice, usually warm and melodic, was a low growl, his hands, normally gentle, were clenched into fists. This wasn't the Felix you knew. This was a stranger, fueled by a rage so potent, it choked the air from the room. The weight of your mistake settled on your shoulders like a physical burden. You hadn't meant to push him, to awaken this monstrous side. But the damage was done. His anger, a white-hot inferno, was directed solely at you. His words, usually laced with playful teasing, became barbed weapons. He lashed out, not physically, but his every utterance felt like a blow, tearing down the foundation of your trust. He paced the room, a caged animal seeking an escape that wasn't there. Each movement seemed to shake the room, each breath a gust of wind that threatened to extinguish the fragile flame of hope flickering within you. The lingering ache of bruises, the sting of dried tears - these were the haunting echoes of a moment you swore to never relieve.

Seungmin

The air crackled with a sudden tension you hadn't anticipated. A single, sharp laugh escaped Seungmin's lips, devoid of any humor. "No," he spat, his voice laced with ice. "Don't even think about it." The playful glint in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a cold fury that sent shivers down your spine. How dare you? You, his darling, to utter such a word – 'leave'? The audacity of it burned in his gaze. Respect was paramount to Seungmin, and your flippant demand was a blatant insult. "Jerk?" he echoed, the word dripping with dangerous venom. "That's a cute term for someone who forgets their place." He took a menacing step closer, his towering frame casting a dark shadow over you. "Don't mistake my kindness for weakness, darling." His voice dipped to a low growl, sending a primal jolt of fear through you. "There are things I can do," he continued, his words slow and deliberate, "things you wouldn't even dare to imagine. And you, my love," he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, "will learn exactly what happens when you disrespect me." A cruel smile played on his lips, a terrifying reminder of the power he held over you. This wasn't the Seungmin you knew, the charming and attentive boyfriend.

This was a predator, baring his fangs, and you were caught firmly in his sights. The playful facade had shattered, revealing a darkness you could only begin to comprehend. Suddenly, he tilted his head, a gesture that sent a fresh wave of panic through you. "Perhaps," he began, his voice low and silken, "a little reminder is in order." He took another step closer, the space between you shrinking with each calculated move. Your back hit the wall with a thud, the trapped feeling mirroring the growing terror in your chest. He reached out, a single finger tracing the delicate skin of your wrist. "Let's see," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine, "how long it takes you to change your tune once you understand the consequences." A sharp sting echoed through the room as his fingernail dug into your flesh, drawing a gasp and a tear. It wasn't the pain, though it was agonizing, that made you flinch. It was the cold emptiness in his eyes, devoid of the love or concern you were used to. This single, calculated act shattered your resistance. Tears streamed down your face, hot and uncontrolled. "Seungmin, please," you choked out, your voice thick with fear and regret. "I didn't mean it, I..." His finger remained in place, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Didn't mean what, darling?" he taunted, tilting his head to listen. "Speak clearly. I wouldn't want any misunderstandings."

Jeongin

Jeongin wasn't known for his temper, but the way his smile stretched a little too wide, a little too manic, sent a jolt of terror through you. You'd never seen him like this – his eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, now held a glint of chilling obsession. "Obsessed?" he echoed your words, his voice a sickeningly sweet drawl. "Perhaps that's a bit dramatic, wouldn't you say?" He took a menacing step closer, the air around him crackling with a dark energy you'd never felt before. "But let's get one thing straight," he continued, his voice dropping to a low growl. "That little outburst of yours? It wasn't cute. Not. One. Bit." He circled you like a predator stalking its prey, his smile morphing into a grotesque parody of amusement. "You see, darling," he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, "I find your defiance… intriguing. A challenge, even." A dangerous glint flickered in his eyes. "You think you can scream at me, tell me what to do? Think again." He straightened, his smile widening as he threw his head back and let out a chilling laugh. The sound echoed through the room, devoid of any warmth or joy, sending shivers down your spine. "This," he gestured around wildly, "isn't ending, sweetheart. This is just the beginning."

Jeongin straightened fully, the manic glint in his eyes replaced by a chilling calmness. His hand dipped into his pocket, emerging with a glint of silver – a small pocket knife, its blade catching the light with a predatory gleam. The playful facade had vanished completely. In its place stood a stranger, a predator with a dangerous glint in his eye. The air grew thick with a suffocating silence, broken only by the shallow rasp of your breath. "Since you seem to have forgotten your place," he said, his voice devoid of emotion, a chilling monotone that sent shivers down your spine, "perhaps a little reminder is in order." He took another deliberate step closer, the knife held loosely in his hand, the tip pointed demonstratively at the floor. You backed away instinctively, the wall stopping your retreat. Jeongin didn't seem fazed. He circled you slowly, the knife a constant, menacing presence. His gaze flickered from your face down to your trembling hands, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "You will learn," he continued, his voice low and menacing, "exactly what happens when you defy me." The playful pet names and teasing had been replaced by a cold, calculated cruelty. This wasn't the Jeongin you knew, the playful boy who made you laugh. This was a monster you'd unwittingly unleashed with your harsh words.

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stevesbipanic · 2 years ago

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Inspired by this post by @liightsnow

Steve had always been quick to open his home to his friends.

It began of course with allowing Tommy to throw big parties at his house since Steve’s parents were away, later he would open his home to the kids to have a safe place to just be kids. Steve enjoyed having his friends around and it helped fill the silence of his usually empty house. So it was no surprise that when Eddie needed a new location for Hellfire, Steve was the first to volunteer.

He and Eddie had gotten close as Eddie recovered in hospital, he was fun to be around, loud and bright in a way that pushed away the thoughts as to how Eddie ended up in the bed in the first place. Wayne was appreciative of Steve keeping his nephew company while he was at work and Steve always reassured him that it was no trouble, most of the time Steve stayed even when Wayne was there.

There was one issue with hosting Hellfire however, the Hellfire boys. Jeff, Gareth and Grant had visited Eddie a few times after school, all their parents keeping them at home when they could after the “earthquake”, Steve always excused himself allowing Eddie to have time with his friends. Steve couldn’t blame the wary looks that they’d send him, he knew who he was in high school, even Eddie had assumed the same.

This lead Steve to now as he opened the door to the three boys, who were last to arrive. They all nodded politely at Steve before heading straight to where Eddie was calling them in the dining room. At first Steve tried to make himself seem friendly and approachable to them, demonstrating that he had changed since his years of being King of Hawkins High. He set out snacks and got people drinks, even remembering which drinks Eddie had told them were their favourites, but all he got were polite smiles and glances towards Eddie. After receiving similar treatment when he brought them lunch, Steve gave up his attempts and retreated to his bedroom to wait out the rest of the game.

Steve curled into a ball on his bed, knees tucked tightly under his chin as he wrapped his arms around is legs. He got an eerie sense of déjà vu to when he was a child and his mother would send him up to his room once he’d been “showed off” to the guests. His purpose complete and he was no longer needed, Hellfire had what they needed to finish their game without them.

Steve heard joyous cries downstairs and wished for a moment he would’ve been able to stay and watch. Everyone always sounded so happy when the game concluded, and he knew Eddie told the best stories. He knew he couldn’t though, he didn’t want to ruin it for anyone, especially Eddie’s friends.

He was getting ready to go downstairs and clean up, another thing similar to his mother’s parties, when there was a knock at his door.

“Stevie? You ok in there?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, Eds, I’m fine, game finished then?” Steve replied as Eddie entered the room.

“Yeah, it was great, you should’ve stayed to watch Gareth made the best final attack, you have a headache or something, why are you hiding up here?”

“Oh, um,” Steve looked down at his hands, “Thought I’d just be in the way down there, didn’t want to spoil the fun.”

Eddie made a face at this, “Spoil the fun? Sweetheart, everyone would’ve loved you to stay and watch, might get Dustin off your back about playing.”

Steve shook his head, “Your friends don’t really like me much, which I get, it’s fine, glad you guys had a place to play though.”

“Steve why did you offer up your place if you didn’t want to watch? And the guys think you’re fine what’re you talking about, did one of them say something?”

“You guys needed a place to play and I have an empty house, need to be useful someway now that there’s no monsters to fight and my parents cut me off, and no, no one said anything but they always act weird around me.”

“Fuck Stevie, you’re more than just someone useful you know that right? I’d want you around just because I like you around, sweetheart, you don’t have to earn that by offering your house.”

“You sure?”

“Very sure, wasn’t getting better in Casa Harrington, was I? Got better cause I had my favourite jock beside me.” Steve blushed at that. “And as for my friends, I think I know the reason they’re acting weird around you,” Eddie said guiltily.

“Why?”

“Might’ve told them not to embarrass me in front of you,” Eddie said sheepishly.

“Why wouldn’t you want them to- oh,” Steve smiled softly, “Eddie Munson did you want to look cool in front of me because you like me?”

“Would it be bad to say yes?”

Steve lent over and kissed Eddie’s cheek softly, “Not at all.”

When the boys returned downstairs holding hands to find the others cleaning up, Jeff let out a sigh of relief, “Thank fuck you got your shit together Eddie, Harrington can you make those sandwiches again next time, I don’t know what you put in them but Gare ate like 5.”

“Hey, you would’ve eaten just as many if there were any left!”

Steve laughed, “Sure, will make them a Hellfire staple every week.”

The following week Steve was met by wide grins when he opened the door, and celebrated with the party when they defeated Eddie’s villain. Sitting on Eddie’s lap to watch the campaign was a good new perk too.

#steve harrington #light angst ending with fluff #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #ficlet #hellfire #hellfire boys

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

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Don't Speak 49

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber, Steve Kemp

Note: mondays are for pain.

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

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

Love you all. Take care. 💖

“What’s wrong with her?” Ann’s sharp tone is dulled behind the dim blur all around you.

“She... she’ll be fine. She’s... adjusting,” Steve explains hesitantly.

A heavy sigh makes your shiver, an echo of another monster. You sink further down into the bed, eyes shut, body locked up. You couldn’t move if you tried.

“You had to get her? She’s stupid. Maria wasn’t--”

“Shut up about Maria,” Steve barks at Ann. “She’s gone. You want a kid, this is what we do.”

“Should we... should we talk about this here?” She asks.

“You’re the one who brought it up, Ann,” he retorts. “Besides, she’s dissociating. She probably thinks she’s at home. It’s better she’s like this. Easier.”

“It won’t be when--”

“Shut up,” he snarls again. “Go.”

Silence. Tense and thick. Finally, a set of footfalls depart and another come closer. You don’t react as the figure sits on the edge of the bed, not even as they touch your shoulder through the layers of blankets.

“Sweetie, how are you doing?” Steve coos. “You wanna get up? You must be hungry.”

You don’t answer him. You can’t. You’re embarrassed. He’s right about you. Ann is right about you. You’re broken. That fact doesn’t hurt as much as another epiphany; he chose you because of that. You’re not special, you’re not pretty, he doesn’t want you. They want what you can give them. Just like Andy.

“Can I bring you some food? You have to eat, sweetie,” rubs your shoulder. “Not just for you.”

You want to scream. Just the very thought of having a baby makes your skins crawl. Your muscles constrict to the point of agony every time you try to imagine it. To you, the very idea is a like a parasite invading your body.

Just like they did.

Andy. Ann. Steve.

She’s right. You are stupid. You made the same mistake twice. Worse, you betrayed and abandoned the only person who every cared about you. The person who would never violate you or call you dumb and useless. You left Amber behind but you think it’s better that you did. Better for her.

You have no where to go. You’re trapped. This is how it’s going to be. You’re going to keep letting them use you and then you’re going to have a baby. A baby! A baby? No, no, no.

“Sweetie,” Steve pulls down the blanket to caress your face, “you wanna come to the office today? We can talk. Maybe after, we can go shopping. We’ll need to start getting stuff for the nursery.” You shudder as he strokes along your cheek, “you know, me and Ann, we never thought we could have another. You’re... you’re giving us an amazing gift. You’re making our dreams come true.”

You stay as you are. He takes a deep breath and spreads his hand over your head. He bends over you and brushes his lips along your temple and to your ear.

“Get the fuck up.”

His voice makes you squeak and recoil. As you try to pull away, he catches the back of your head and keeps you there. Your eyes flick open and you gape up at him. He makes you sit up as he grips your skull between his large hands.

“You’re not going to do this. Not to my baby,” he snarls, “so get up, get dressed, and be a good girl, dove.”

You pout and your eyes wet, “Steve, please--”

“You keep this up, and I’ll have to go see how your sister’s doing...” he intones. “Living all alone, she must miss you.”

“What?” You croak.

“Someone has to keep an eye on her,” he says.

“What do you mean?” You whine.

“You really want me to say it?” He snarls.

“No, why? Why? You know—I t-t-told you—Andy--”

He shoves you back down, so hard your neck snaps back and you bite your tongue, “don’t say his fucking name to me. Don't even breathe him in the same sentence as me. I’m not like him and you know that, sweetie. Look how much I’ve helped you. How much I’ve actually helped you.”

He stands and kicks the bed. “I’m giving you a purpose. Something you never had before.” He scoffs and paces around as you rub your neck, “you were nothing before. No one wanted you, no one needed you.”

“Stop, please. That’s mean--”

“The truth hurts, baby,” he growls. “So let’s get the fuck up and go.”

You sniffle and shakily push yourself up. Your heart races and the rampant beat pounds in your ears. You push yourself to the edge of the bed and the blankets slip away from your body. As you stand, his eyes flash at you.

You’re still naked. They just leave you like that when they’re done. You cross the room but don’t make it to the dresser. He catches you by your arm and drags you back.

“Not so fast,” he shoves you towards the bed. “Just to make sure,” he forces you onto the bed. “Open up, baby,” he climbs over you, pinning you as his hand creeps between your legs.

You close your eyes again. You recede back into the shell hewn form years of self-hatred and fear. The cocoon that never let you free. You would never fly free and be a butterfly. You would only ever be this. A burden. Nothing.

He ruts into you but you don’t feel it. You can’t. His intrusion doesn’t hurt anywhere as bad as the truth. And you can’t blame anyone but yourself. You chose this.

🕊️

It happens all at once. One moment, you’re sitting there, watching Avery and Harper run in circles around the front room, and the next, you’re keeled over, hurling onto the carpet. You don’t think much of it. Most days, you feel sick. You don’t have an appetite but they make you eat. You still have scratches around your lips from Ann’s manicure.

You stay bent over the carpet, panting. Avery squeals, “Moooom!” and Harper snickers and adds a draw out, “ewwwwwwwww”.

You’re pushed back against the couch. You’re breathless and dizzy. You gulp down the bile and watch Ann grimace down at the puddle between your feet. She puts her hands on her hips.

“Steve,” she rings out.

Another shadow appears. The adults are quiet as the kids loom behind, “is she sick?” Avery asks.

“Go. Take your brother to his room.” Ann snips.

The girl retreats as if away from a lash. You stare up at them. Steve bends and picks you up off the couch. You refuse to set your feet so he carries you away.

“I’m not cleaning this up,” Ann snarls.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, “did you check the calendar?”

Footsteps follow him as you hang limp in his arms. He takes you into the bedroom, the dark cell where you languish between their grabbing hands, where you wallow in despair and defeat. He lays you down.

“Makes sense,” Ann drones. “She’s about on track.”

He hums and nods. “I’ll clean up. We need to be sure.”

“I’ll need help,” she sniffs. “Just look at her.”

You stare at the ceiling. The world fades behind the ring of light in your vision as the light bulbs sears into your retina. You close your eyes and everything moves around you as you stay still.

It’s quiet when you rise from the depths. Out of the void of your own mind and the prison of your body. The lamp next to the bed is on and you’re wearing a shirt you’ve never seen before. There’s a faint scent of urine in the air. You’re all alone.

Your stomach turns, mulching in on itself, but you ignore it. You just can’t be bothered. The swell of sickness chokes you and you just wallow it back down. Your body spasms with the effort.

You roll onto your stomach and close your eyes. When you open them again, you’re spewing puke down the bed spread, watching it pool on the hardwood. You wipe your mouth with the back of your head and groan.

An inch away is the bin from the bathroom. If you’d been awake, you might have been able to reach it. You stretch out your arm and drag it closer. There's a rattle in the bottom.

You stare down at the white and blue plastic stick. Without fear, you grab it and bring it up to read the little window. Pregnant. That’s it. That's the end. You drop the test into your own puke and roll onto your other side. You dive back into the despondency of sleep.

You’re woken again by an angry voice. Then a swat on the back of your head, “disgusting, aren’t you?” Ann chides.

You can hear her scrubbing the floor as the smell of puke hangs in the air. Puke and piss. Filthy, like you.

When the room is silent and still, you lay on your back. You’re still nauseous. Weak and tired. Everything is so much more intense than it’s ever been.

The door opens. You don’t react. Steve calls your name and you still don’t answer. He drags you up the bed and makes you sit against the pillows, placed against the headboard. Then he puts the little folding table over your lap. The scent of food makes you grumble.

“You have to eat,” he says. “It’s not just about you anymore, dove.”

His timbre is harsh, hateful almost. He holds up the spoon and you stare it down. You keep your lips sealed.

“Open your damn mouth or I’ll do it for you.”

You wince and obey. You don’t understand why he changed. He used to be nice. He used to be patient and gentle. He said he was going to fix you. You take the mouthful of porridge and swallow without tasting.

“You’re... a doctor,” you squeak.

“Hmm?” He scoops up more of the oats.

“You’re a doctor... you’re supposed to help me--”

“I have helped,” he rams the spoon in your mouth again. “You think it would be any different with him? He wouldn’t want you the minute you got knocked up.” He stirs the bowl as he speaks, “but if you give us a healthy baby, we’ll keep you.”

If.

You open your mouth again. You stay quiet. You don’t like talking to him. Not anymore. It's always about the baby. It’s always spiteful. He hates you.

“You get it?” He sneers. “You are carrying our child, that means you have to take care of yourself,” he grabs your hand and wraps it around the spoon, “you need to grow up.” He guides the spoon into the bowl with a clink. “Because if you don’t start taking care of my baby, then I will make sure you fucking suffer. I’ve lost too much already.”

You whimper and he lets you go. You raise the spoon and lean forward to put the heap of steaming oats between your lips. His eyes are as icy as his words. You’re scared. You’re even more terrified of him than you ever were of Andy.

“Good girl,” he says but it doesn’t make you feel good. Not anymore.

You finish the whole bowl, and the fruit on the side, and the orange juice. He gathers up the tray and leaves you. You slump against the pillows and rub your stomach, trying to calm the storm inside.

It’s more than the latent tide of nausea that makes you restless. You’re head pounds. You can’t even close your eyes. If you sleep any longer, your skull might just split. Your body is achy and your heart feels as if its always racing. You sit up and look around the room.

Nine months. You know that’s how long it takes. You’ll have less than that by now. You’re not sure how long it would be.

You turn and shimmy to the edge of the bed. You slide open the night table drawer and take out your journal. You search through the pages. Steve told you to right down your cycle...

Hm, you can’t figure it out. Probably two months? Maybe less? It doesn't feel like that long.

You put the journal back and your knuckles brush on the smooth cover of your tablet. You pause and lean forward to look into the drawer. You stopped using it because you didn’t want to be reminded of Andy. You couldn’t draw because your hand wouldn’t listen to your brain.

You glance at the door then take out the tablet. You push back into bed and put your knees up, draping the blankets over them so if anyone walks in, you can hide the screen. You press the button on the side. It takes a moment but it lights up.

You wait until the homescreen appears. Thirty percent. You can’t remember where the charger went.

You pull down the notifications. There are a lot. Automatic alerts from the camera at Andy’s house, messages from a strange account that can only be him, and several app updates.

You swipe them all away. You flick over the menu, back and forth, back and forth. You tap on Insta and wait for it to load. Your last post was a year ago; a drawing of a dove...

You go to your followers. You don’t have many but you’re only looking for one. You tap Amber’s picture. Her profile opens and your fingers twitch in surprise. Your fingertip taps the little heart and it blooms red. You quickly press again to undo the like.

Her last post is from a week ago. It’s her and a man. He doesn’t seem to want to be on camera as she kisses his cheek. Oh. You can’t bother her. She’s moved on. She’s happy and you’re going to ruin her life all over again. You’re not her responsibility.

Your eyes fill with tears as you stare at her picture. A red dot appears at the bottom over the chat icon. It blinks as several messages flow in. It's Amber.

‘Hey!’

‘Are u there?’

‘Says ur online. Pls answer me.’

You watch her messages pop up. Your lip trembles. What can you do? What can you say? You wipe your tears and snivel. Hey, sis, got myself knocked up and now I’m scared. No, that’s not it.

You hover your hands over the keyboard and steady them. You blow out between your lips and sort out the words in your head. You tap the letters slowly, taking your time.

‘I just want to say goodbye. I’m sorry for all the pain I caused. I’m glad to see that you’re happy. Love you.’

You read and reread. Over and over. Then you make yourself send it. You don’t wait for her response. What she says, doesn’t matter. She’s free from you. She doesn’t need to worry. You’re not worried either. This is just how it is.

#steve kemp #andy barber #dark steve kemp #dark andy barber #dark!steve kemp #dark!andy barber #steve kemp x reader #andy barber x reader #don't speak #series #fic #librarian au #au #dark fic #dark!fic #defending jacob #fresh

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serverusslaype · 1 year ago

Text

Shameless, pt. 5

snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

HEY YALL!! oh my lordddd this was so fun and emotionally draining to write lowkey, i had o children on repeat at the end and i was in my BAG, that song destroys me.

if you're still here and still following this series, thank you very much, i truly do appreciate your support - that means all the likes, follows, reblogs, comments - everything and anything <33 if you are new, hello, welcome, hi, the beginning chapters will be on my blog, just scroll down, this series is the only thing i have posted, i'll be adding the part links in tomorrow as i want to go to bed hehe

i love u guys so much :) pls make sure you drink enough water today!

this is a very long chapter by the way so pls prepare yourself for potential spelling mistakes!

alright... away we goooo!!!

As you sprinted down the corridor, it felt like it was never-ending. You were almost out of breath as you reached the scene, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you stared up in horror at the second bloody message. It eerily read: 'Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever'.

"Oh my…" You breathed out shakily; the loudening sound of a crowd of hurried footsteps began to get closer and closer to you. Looking to the right, you spotted the other teachers - McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, Flitwick, Sinistra, Snape and the caretaker, Filch. They all looked as distressed as you did, even Snape who is usually devoid of any emotion.

"The heir of Slytherin has left another message," McGonagall stated apprehensively, gesturing to the defamed wall with an outstretched hand as the other teachers gathered around, all sporting the same worrisome look. "Our worst fear has been realised. A student has been taken by the monster, into the Chamber itself." The Head of Gryffindor's voice was shaky, it sounded like she was about to burst into tears. You glanced at her with sad eyes, and she beckoned you to come to her with her other arm. You padded over to McGonagall as she laid an arm around your shoulders comfortingly, her thumb gently rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

Being the youngest of the teachers, you were taking this rather hard. Most of all, you were worried for the rest of your students. "What do we do Minerva?" You asked quietly after a moment of silence as the group of you stared at the wall in disbelief and what felt like denial. "The students must be sent home… I'm afraid this is the end of Hogwarts." She announced, her brows knitting together in a dramatic show of despair. You felt your stomach drop. The end of Hogwarts?…

Before you could get another word in, a familiar, cocky face appeared. "So sorry. Dozed off. What have I missed?" Lockhart asked over-enthusiastically with his signature million-dollar grin, bouncing on his heels as he clasped his hands together behind his back. You clenched your jaw in anger at him, your eyes narrowing into an unwelcoming glare as you stared at the man.

"A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Your moment has come at last." Snape said bitterly, standing tall.

"My m-moment?" Lockhart replied, stumbling over his words like he'd just seen a ghost.

"Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?" Snape quipped as the speed of sound, his tongue laced with venom. You glanced at Severus for a quick moment, your stomach doing somersaults. Instantly, Lockhart's grin disappeared. You swallowed thickly as he dared to glance at you, his mouth parting slightly in shock. Your jaw clenched again as you shuffled in your spot, resisting the urge to curse the man. McGonagall's comforting hand tightened around your shoulder.

"That's settled. We'll leave you to deal with the monster, Gilderoy." McGonagall said matter-of-factly. "Your skills, after all, are legend." She added, not hiding the smugness in her voice at all. The corner of your lip quirked up the tiniest amount at her words. Lockhart's face was the pure definition of shock for the last few seconds before he quickly returned to his fake, proud grin.

"Very well. Uh, I'll just be in my office getting err… getting ready!" Lockhart announced, feigning excitement. Did he think you were stupid? All of you could see through his brave act and see his true cowardly self. As you all stared at him, he spun on his heel and turned around, almost sprinting back in the direction of his office. You couldn't help but scoff quietly as he turned the corner, rolling your eyes at his pathetic self as you looked back at the message messily scrawled out on the wall. Your stomach twisted at the thought of one of your students being brutally slaughtered at the hands of a beast. It felt as if someone had just pushed you from a great height.

"Who is it that the monster's taken, Minerva?" Madam Pomfrey asked with inquisitive yet cautious eyes, pulling you from your thoughts. Professor McGonagall looked away for a moment, blinking slowly.

"Ginny Weasley." McGonagall replied gravely, sharing a glance with Madam Pomfrey before walking away, presumably back to her office. You'd been nurturing your Mandrakes with precision, but this whole debacle spurred you on to do as much as you could, even if that meant destroying yourself in the process. The students of Hogwarts' safety meant the world to you. You couldn't imagine the fear that was probably streaming through them all right now.

Ever since you were called by McGonagall to the second-floor corridor to witness the final bloody message scrawled against the wall, you'd been awake almost twenty-four hours a day; sleeping in your greenhouse at your desk to ensure you were there the exact moment your Mandrakes were ready to be stewed and made into juice for the Mandrake Restoration potion. Dark purple rings had appeared around your eyes as you worked day and night, fertilising, feeding and watering the Mandrakes, guaranteeing that the they were at their best when the time came. The threat of more students being attacked or snatched kept you awake most of the time.

Nothing of the sort had ever happened at Hogwarts before, and deep down, you were a little terrified. Though you refused to show it, it would only scare the students more. You had also heard through the grapevine that Hagrid had been arrested on suspicion of opening the Chamber of Secrets, which broke your heart. That man would never do such a thing, and you were positive he was being set up for it. It was a blistery, cold and frosty winter night and you had nodded off again whilst caring for the Mandrakes; your head drooped in the cradle of your arms on top of the table with your hair falling over your arms like a waterfall. You stirred awake, and it was a brutal war to open your eyes as the chilling air bit at your bare arms like a rabid dog. Shivering, you quickly blinked, rubbing your sore eyes with tired fingers, a gasp leaving your lips as you laid your eyes upon the scene in front of you. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Before you had fallen asleep, the Mandrakes were in their own pots. Now, they had moved into each others. They'd finally matured! All those early morning and late nights you'd slaved away had paid off. Your chest was bursting with pride as you grinned to yourself. It was a bittersweet moment for sure.

"Yes!" You exclaimed, the rush of excitement fuelling you to stand up from your chair. You clasped your hands together eagerly, staring at the nesting Mandrakes like a baby who just took their first steps. You were so proud.

Humming to yourself, you stood there blankly. If you were being honest, you had to wrack your brain for a moment as the lack of sleep was starting to get to you - your brain was a little foggy. Yet, you pushed through it, retrieving your wand from your robes, but to your surprise it wasn't there. Your brows furrowed as you looked down at your empty pockets. It must have fallen out when you nodded off. You bent down quickly, scanning underneath the table with tired eyes, and sure enough, there was your wand. Sitting all by it's lonesome. You retrieved it with nimble fingers and stood back up with a whoosh, aiming your wand at the root of a Mandrake in front of you. "Diffindo." You spoke clearly, flicking your wand in a up-and-down motion, watching carefully as a thin white light severed off a thick piece of Mandrake root. It fell and landed on the table with a muffled thud. Quickly retrieving it, you placed it into a dark brown woven bag to the left of you, sealing it closed with the ivory-coloured drawstrings. Now, it was time to pay the Bat a visit. Hopefully he didn't cause you much… stress.

You sighed quietly, turning around with a whirl to have a quick look in a old, dusty mirror that had been overgrown by some vines of ivy. Merlin, you had really been neglecting yourself. You grimaced as you stared at your unrecognisable reflection, noticing the purple circles around your eyes. "Yeesh," you grit your teeth, fingers coming up to trace the lines forming at the end of your eyes.

It's not like you were there to impress Snape anyway, you were going there to drop off the Mandrake extracts and help him with the potion. That was it. Nothing else. Your chest tightened slightly at the thought, of course you wished it was different, but this was Professor Severus Snape you were talking about. The man was emotionless, he had no time for such childish things. A soft, strained groan slipped from your lips as you shut your eyes for a moment, just imagining what it'd be like if did feel the same way you did. Perhaps he'd make you tea in the mornings, visit you during your breaks, maybe even bring you small, meaningful gifts. Sighing defeatedly, you shook away your fantasy from your mind, slipping back into gloomy reality.

You made your way out of the greenhouse, but not before readjusting your dress and brushing through your hair with your fingers messily, a quiet 'ouch' falling from your lips as you reached a knot. Feelings or not, you wanted to at least look presentable. Falling asleep on your worktable didn't really do you any justice.

The obsidian night-sky had taken over from the blue one earlier, and you couldn't help but notice how beautiful the stars looked twinkling in the sky tonight. You stopped for a moment and admired it, quickly spotting your favourite constellation, Aquila. It took you back in time for a moment, remembering the fond times you had teaching students in Astronomy. You still loved Astronomy, but Herbology is where you truly belonged.

As you bid the night a silent farewell, you carried yourself into the castle, ensuring to be as quiet as possible considering it was around eleven o'clock at night, perhaps even midnight. You hurried to the spiral staircases leading down to the dungeons, that familiar, vile damp smell hitting your nose once again. Your nose scrunched up in disgust. As you continued down the path towards Snape's classroom, you spotted it; a warm amber light flooding out from underneath the door. It wasn't exactly a surprise that he was still awake, you knew he was usually out patrolling each night to catch students out of bed past curfew. You rolled your eyes at the thought and proceeded to rap on his door with your knuckles, awaiting his response, bag in hand.

"Come in." Came an agitated voice. You cringed slightly at yourself and opened his door and wandered in. As your eyes glanced around his classroom, you were instantly transported back to the times you'd served detention in here, scribbling rather inappropriate things on scraps of parchment. Looking back to Snape, you noticed he was sat at his desk, nose deep in what you assumed to be assignments. Your stomach suddenly felt rather light.

"Hello," you said sheepishly, stopping in front of his door as you shut it behind you, "You're up late." You commented, offering him a polite smile. Severus looked up confusedly from behind his desk, his brows furrowing as he noticed it was you and not a student. As his eyes connected with yours, they sent an anxious, shivery rush through your body.

"Y/N," Severus greeted you, his face still adorned with his infamous scowl as he looked at you directly for several seconds, scrutinising you as he tried to comprehend what you were doing at his office at such an ungodly hour. "What are you doing here?"

"The Mandrakes matured," you said excitedly, holding up the bag in your hand. Snape's gaze fell to your hands, eyeing the bag with an ounce of curiosity. "We can start the potion now to cure the students." You added happily.

Severus leaned back in his chair, looking back down at the assignments in front of him. You were a little bummed that he didn't look happier. "Brilliant, you may put them here." He said blankly, patting the empty space on his desk next to his pile of assignments. After several seconds, he spoke again with a curious tone. "…You said 'we', Y/N?" He stared at you. The way he said your name made your face redden.

"Erm, yes, well, I don't want you to over-stew the Mandrake root," You said with a cheeky smile. You were trying to lighten to glum mood. It was risky but worth it. High risk, high reward, you thought. "I thought it would be best if I did for you, since I was the one that raised them." You explained, shrugging sheepishly. Severus could sense the swelling pride in your voice, but he didn't mention anything, he wasn't sure if he'd say something awful and hurt you. It was rather pleasant to see you smiling in his presence instead of the usual upset and angry side of you.

Severus sat for a moment and pondered before speaking once more. "Very well." He said, that cold tone still very present in his voice. You bit down a little too harshly on your bottom lip out of nervousness, padding forwards to set the Mandrake roots down on a desk in the middle of the classroom. As you glanced around the classroom once more, fond memories of you and your friends whispering and sneaking notes to each other in class began to flood your mind, a nostalgic smile tugging at your lips.

"Are the cauldrons still in the same place?" You asked Severus, turning your head over your shoulder to look at him.

"Yes." Was all he said, nose still buried deep in his work. You rolled your eyes softly at his ridiculous work ethic. Every time you came in this room, he was always working hard. Of course, you admired his industrious nature, but you thought he would at least give himself some leeway and put the assignments down, maybe read a book or do something a little less work-related. Though, you weren't one to judge, perhaps he enjoyed it.

"Nothing changes around here." You chuckled quietly to yourself, a small smile spreading across your face as you wandered in the direction of Snape's storage cupboards, your fingers wrapping around the handle. Pulling it open with a exhausted squeak of the old and worn hinges, you let your eyes roam over the equipment, searching for a spare cauldron. As you had your back turned, Severus sneaked a glance at you over his assignments, his eyes narrowing vaguely as he stared at you for a short moment. Before you turned back around with the cauldron in your hand, he'd already returned his gaze to his desk.

Walking back to the desk you'd chosen to stew your Mandrake root, you let your eyes flick over at Severus for a quick moment, indulging in his appearance. Your eyes lingered, and you realised you loved the way his hair fell around his pale face like a pair of old curtains, a single strand curling onto his prominent nose. A tiny, bashful smile fell on your lips as you looked back to the cauldron in your hands, stopping at the desk to place the cauldron down. Whilst you were setting it up, you kept sneaking cautious glances in the direction of the broody Potions Master, your heart beat speeding up each time your curious eyes landed on him.

You retrieved your wand from your robes and cast a spell on the cauldron, watching as water suddenly filled it three quarters of the way up. After that, you cast another spell to boil the water, your face relaxing a tad as you reached for the bag of Mandrake root to your right, opening it and retrieving said ingredient. You dropped it in the cauldron with a satisfying plop, observing it carefully. Now, you had to wait fifteen minutes for it to stew, keeping an eye out for when it turned bright green.

You looked up at Severus, who was still scratching away at assignments with his quill. "It'll be around fifteen minutes." You announced, not really expecting a reply. He merely grunted as a weak sign of acknowledgment. That was the best you were going to get currently. You sighed quietly to yourself and decided to take a stroll around his classroom to kill some time.

Heading towards the shelves of jars and containers of rather vile looking ingredients, you clasped your hands together behind your back, stopping to have a look at a jar of rat tails. You grimaced at the sight, quickly moving on to another row of less disgusting looking jarred items. A content hum left your lips as you spotted your powdered asphodel root, placed neatly in a small glass container to the right of a phial of Phoenix tears.

"I see you have a surplus of powdered asphodel root," You commented, turning around to glance at Severus, who to your surprise, was already staring at you. A flash of butterflies shot through you. "You won't need anymore for a while, then?" You cleared your throat, chewing on your bottom lip out of nervousness.

"Not until I brew another Draught of Living Death." Severus replied slowly and coldly, his eyes scrutinising you. You turned around, nodding, tearing your gaze from him, continuing to walk slowly and peek at each jar nosily.

"Do you ever miss certain students?" You asked, catching Snape off-guard. His brows furrowed at you slightly, partially confused at your question.

"Not particularly," He replied slowly again, his mind racing through countless ideas as to why you'd ask such a question. "If that's your way of asking if I miss having you as a student, my answer may hurt your feelings, Y/N." Severus's lips quirked up at the corners into a small, reluctant smirk. In lieu of the familiar rush of irritation surging through you at his comment, you instead found yourself smiling. You were a little surprised at yourself, you half-heartedly expected to take offense at his dig. Severus was surprised at your reaction too, but he did not show it.

"Understandable," You laughed quietly; the butterflies fluttering like a storm in your stomach. "I wasn't the best student for you, if my memory serves me right." Another soft laugh left you. Severus felt himself almost smile at the pretty sound that slipped from your lips. It was a little jarring to see such a change in character in you. He'd prepared himself for you to yell at him again, or at least insult him back.

"No." He agreed, still staring at you. "However, you weren't the worst."

"Who was?" You looked at him this time, genuinely curious. Severus grunted at your question.

"I believe you know. Or, perhaps, can guess at best."

A cheeky smirk perked up on your face. "Benjamin Bluewater?" You stared at Snape, waiting for his answer. He only tilted his head at you, raising his brows a tad. You took that as a yes from him. "Yeah, he was a menace." You hummed amusedly, thinking back to the times Bluewater had caused Snape grief. One time, the boy had set off a rather foul-smelling prank in Snape's classroom, rendering it useless for that period. Snape almost had the boy's head that day for that mischievous mishap. Bluewater was insanely lucky to have another teacher walk by, diffusing the situation.

"Yes," Snape sighed exasperatedly, leaning back in his desk chair. For the first time, you felt comfortable in his presence. It wasn't tense, nor uncomfortable, and you weren't on edge, waiting for an insult. "I don't think I've ever met someone so… distasteful." You frowned at him, obviously in disagreement.

"Lockhart, surely?" You offered. Severus cocked his brow and tilted his head, nodding frankly at you, as if to say 'Yes, that's true'. You laughed and turned around, starting to head back towards your cauldron as it was starting to hiss. "Yeah, he's insufferable." You said as you reached your cauldron and retrieved your wand, using it to stir the stew.

There was a few seconds of silence between you two, only the hissing and bubbling of the cauldron echoing in the classroom. "I'll be sad to see him go." Snape said finally. Your head whipped up at him, a look of shock and confusion on your face. "I won't have the honour of coming across you threatening him in a corridor late at night anymore." He added, his lips quirking up slightly again. A dry laugh left your lips as you turned back to your Mandrake stew. "It was always a thrilling experience each time I neared a corner in a corridor when patrolling at night."

"Funny." You scrunched your nose up, trying to hide the amused smile that was painted on your face. With your attention on something else, Severus couldn't help but let his eyes linger on you for a few more seconds, silently admiring the way your hair fell over your shoulders. "I think it's done, Severus."

"You think or you know it's done?" He quipped, standing slowly to walk over to you, his majestic cloak billowing out behind him. He halted himself beside you, peering into the cauldron.

"I know it's done." You rolled your eyes at him, earning an eyebrow raise from the Potions Master. You had to bite back a smile. "Would you like me to do the potion as well?" You asked jokingly, daring to glance up into his dark, almost black eyes. That was a mistake, your cheeks flared up immediately. You quickly averted your gaze back to the cauldron, hoping he didn't notice.

"I believe I am the Potion Master of this school," Severus glared at you like he was offended you'd even offer that. You tried to hold back your laugh. He was so demanding at times. "Considering your… messy history with potions, I think it would be best if I handled this part." He added with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"You make a great point, Severus." You rolled your eyes and stepped back, awaiting instructions. "Can I at least get the ingredients?" You asked eagerly, sounding like a child. You cringed a little at yourself. "Very well." Severus sighed, his eyes still glued to the cauldron. As he finished speaking, you spun on your heel and headed to where you were strolling earlier. You paused for a moment, realising that you had no idea what the ingredients were. Before you could ask, Severus was already on the case. "Dandelion root, Phoenix tears and purified water." He listed, almost tiredly. You blushed furiously at the fact you'd embarrassed yourself yet again in front of Snape.

"Okay…" You trailed off, eyes frantically searching the shelves. My asphodel root was next the Phoenix tears, you thought, shuffling to the right slightly to reach for the phial of Phoenix tears. Dandelion root must be placed with the other Herbology based ingredients, surely? you wondered. Sure enough, you were right, your eyes landed on the jar of dandelion roots; hand reaching out to grab it. Erm, purified water, purified water… you thought, eyes scanning the shelves, quickly stopping as you spotted it pushed behind a container of fish eyes. "Ew…" You muttered, pushing the fish eyes aside to grab the purified water. Severus had the tiniest amused smile on his face as he watched you search the shelves for the Mandrake Restorative Draught ingredients, he was thoroughly entertained.

As you turned around to look back at Snape, ingredients in hand, your eyes caught his, and you noticed the smile on his lips. It almost made your knees buckle, you'd never seen him smile like that before, let alone at you. Immediately, the smile was wiped from his lips as your eyes connected. It made you a little sad that he felt he had to hide his true emotions from you.

"You are an expert at dawdling, Y/N." Severus commented, his eyes returning to their usual cold and harsh nature.

"Well, not that it's obvious to you, but I don't tend to come in here very much anymore." You quipped back, arching your brow at his words. It was intriguing to you to see just how fast he could just switch expressions. Snape offered you a condescending gaze as he brushed off your sassy reply. "Here, I've got everything you need." You said, placing the jars and vials on the desk in front of the two of you. "Brilliant." Was all Severus said as he barely acknowledged you, his shoulder-length mop of raven-black hair acting like a shield to his face. He was much taller than you, so you couldn't see past it whilst standing beside him.

"Can I watch?" You asked sheepishly, making Snape turn around to look at you. His brows knitted together, observing you silently. With a soft sigh, he turned back around to the cauldron and proceeded to pick up the jar of dandelion roots.

"If you must." Severus replied, a hint of curiosity in his voice. A small, appreciative smile fell on your lips. He glanced at you once more from beside you, sending butterflies soaring through you. You focused your attention onto his hands, watching how his quick and skilful fingers opened each jar gracefully, preparing them for each step. You watched as Severus took a pinch of the dandelion root, gently adding it into the cauldron, careful not to disturb the Mandrake root. After that, he grasped the vial of Phoenix tears with a cautious hand and poured it into the mixture, his eyes lighting up at the bubbles that started to form on top of the potion. Severus reached for the final ingredient of purified water. Dropping it in slowly, the mixture quickly shifted to a muted tone of green.

"Now, let it simmer for a minute or so, then stir it once clockwise, and then twice anticlockwise." Severus instructed sternly, picking up the empty jars and containers.

"Right," You nodded, a little nervous. You couldn't screw it up, right? Stepping forwards, you watched Severus stalk away to the shelves, glass jars and containers in hand. You looked back to the potion and waited for a minute and a bit, before using your wand to stir the green mixture once clockwise, and then twice anti-clockwise. A soft blow of air left your lips as a sign of relief.

"Well done. If only you could have been this competent when you were a student." Snape said sarcastically, peering into the cauldron, his brows raising in approval as he threw a side-ways glance at you. You rolled your eyes at him, fighting the urge to say something back. "Keep rolling your eyes, perhaps you'll find a brain back there." Snape quipped, obviously growing tired of your eye-rolls. It was impossibly hard not to roll your eyes at him right then and there, it was so fitting to do so. "I believe it's ready." He said, nodding once. A happy, proud and prideful grin broke out on your face as your stared at the draught, a sense of accomplishment washing over your small form. As Severus glanced down at you again, he couldn't help but stare at your happy little face, an odd and unusual sensation stirring in his chest. He swiftly turned away from you without saying anything else and headed back to his desk, leaving you alone, hiding his face as the smallest of smiles picked at the corners of his lips.

You had brought the draught to Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary at once. She was ever so grateful and thankful towards you, however, you were rather adamant that it was Severus she should be thanking. "Thank you so much, Professor L/N!" Madam Pomfrey cried with the Mandrake Restorative Draught in her hands, a gasp of relief leaving her lips as she lead you around the corner of a curtain, your body freezing as your eyes fell on a Petrified student. It was Hermione Granger.

"You should really be thanking Severus," You chuckled awkwardly, clasping your hands in front of your hips. "It wouldn't have been made without him, considering he is the Potions Master after all." You said, a hint of a laugh at the end of your sentence. "I only grew the Mandrakes." You added.

"Of course, but the Mandrake is the most important ingredient, do you not agree?" She said, turning to glance at you as she administered the potion to the skin of a Petrified Hermione. It stinged you a little to see a student of yours frozen and paralysed, almost lifeless. So you looked away, your eyes finding an interest in the floor.

"I suppose, but I wouldn't have been able to brew it myself, even Severus himself said I shouldn't." You hummed. Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes softly at you. You pursed your lips.

"Don't believe anything that gloomy bat says, Professor L/N, you're more than capable of anything if you put your mind to it." She said sternly, her long dress gliding across the floor elegantly as she moved away from Hermione and to the next student behind the next curtain to your left. She left you alone to your thoughts, and perhaps she was right. Maybe you were capable of brewing the potion, but even if you were, you would still rather have Severus do it, especially since it was an urgent requirement. It had to be perfect.

A few days had passed since you had distributed the antidote to Madam Pomfrey and today was Friday, the last day of term for the students before they left Hogwarts to return home to their families for Christmas. Mixed emotions stirred within you as you sat at the table with the other professors, your eyes glazing over the House tables sat in front of you. This term had been full of unusual and unexpected moments, and you were hoping it would simmer down the next term. You weren't too sure whether you'd survive anything like that again. In fact, you were almost positive.

"Hello, and good evening to all," Dumbledore announced, wandering up to his beloved golden Owl Lecturn, his long and worn fingers latching around the wings. "Before we begin to indulge in this excellent feast, let us have a round of applause for Professor L/N," The Headmaster said, almost making you snap your neck from the speed you looked up. You were not expecting Dumbledore to publicly thank you. "Madam Pomfrey, whose Mandrake juice has been so successfully administered to all who had been petrified." He finished, and your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. You didn't do well being in the spotlight, let alone being thanked by the entire school for something so miniscule in your eyes. You smiled sheepishly and gave a gracious nod at everyone who suddenly erupted into a chorus of cheers and applause. Looking to your right, you caught the eyes of Severus, who, to your surprise, was gazing at you proudly, a small, hesitant smile on his face. You smiled back at him and nodded once, resisting the grin that was itching to break out.

"Also, in light of recent events, as a school treat, all exams have been cancelled." Dumbledore added, which encouraged an even louder round of applause and further cheers. You allowed yourself to grin this time, relishing in the happiness of the students and teachers surrounding you. It was such a pleasant atmosphere, and all you could feel spreading through you was a homely-like warmth. Hogwarts had always been your home at heart, but this seemed to cement it.

Suddenly, the cheering and clapping ceased as the doors creaked open, revealing a very tall, very large bearded man with long, frizzy chocolate hair. He sported some raggedy matching brown clothes, and from this you could easily guess it was Hagrid. Mainly from his sheer height, but the beard and hair was also a dead giveaway. "Sorry I'm late," he announced, glancing around awkwardly, "the owl that delivered my release papers got all lost and confused. Some ruddy bird called Errol." He said, widening his eyes in a tired, yet joking manner. You couldn't help but smile at his comment, and a few quiet giggles fell from some first and second year students.

You leaned to Flitwick who was seated beside you. "Do you know who's owl that is?" You whispered curiously, glancing between the shorter Charms Master and Hagrid. Flitwick looked at you with an amused smile.

"Ron Weasley's owl, of course." He chuckled softly, returning his attention to the scene unfolding in front of him. You hummed. Of course it was, the bird matched his owner very well, you thought, another joyous smile gracing your lips.

"Without further ado," Dumbledore's raspy, wise voice boomed through the Great Hall, capturing everyone's attention. "Let us begin!" He cheered, a wide grin spreading across his bearded cheeks.

Instantaneously, plates upon plates of delicious, mouth-watering food materialised right in front of your eyes. Glorious and juicy roast turkey adorned with all the helpings sat temptingly in front of your placemat, a bowl of golden and crisp roasties to the right of it. Steaming hot green veggies sat to the left of the turkey, and you just couldn't wait to dig in, your stomach was growling like a chained up wolf. You let out a soft gasp at the beautiful sight, your eyes twinkling with delight. After all this chaos in just a few months time, you were all well-deserving of such gorgeous food.

"The food looks absolutely delicious, Dumbledore, thank you." You poked your head past Flitwick, looking at the older wizard with a grin, who had settled himself down in the Head seat. He casted his wrinkled, yet sparkling and wise eyes to you, and nodded graciously. "You are most welcome, Professor L/N." He smiled politely. You returned his smile without a beat and turned back to your plate, using the supplied silverware and utensils to serve yourself some of the rich and brilliant food in front of you.

Conversations and cheerful laughter surrounded you, and you couldn't have felt happier than right now. Whilst chewing on a piece of asparagus, you sneaked a glance at where Severus was sat, however, you found he was not there anymore. A sad frown pulled your brows together, and you swiftly glanced around the hall for a tall, black figure, but nothing caught your eye. You swallowed your mouthful and placed your utensils down on the plate with a soft clink. You turned to Flitwick again.

"Did Severus leave?" You asked quietly, careful to keep your voice down.

Flitwick turned to you, munching away happily on a hot roastie. He nodded before swallowing. "Yes, he tends to avoid these sorts of things. Each year he never fails to leave right before the big feast." The Charms professor explained. A sad knot twisted in your stomach at the thought of him being alone on a such a happy occasion. Though, it wasn't all too surprising. He does seem like the type to prefer to be alone instead of spending it with people he… works with. You pondered on your thoughts for a moment, before deciding to stand up.

"Excuse me." You smiled at the shorter professor beside you, grabbing your plate and loading it with some extra turkey meat, potatoes and some vegetables. Flitwick looked up at you with another mouthful, a little curious as he chewed and watched you get extra helpings with inquisitive eyes. With a full plate in hand, you quickly downed your goblet of wine. Flitwick didn't press you for answers to the nosy questions that were circulating inside his brilliant mind as he watched you head towards the door to the right of the dinner table. You gave him a small, coy smile and bid him a silent goodbye, wandering to the dungeons.

As you were walking in the direction of where Snape lurked, you got those same doubts again, wondering whether he would actually appreciate this act, or be appalled by it. You hoped it'd be the former, but you weren't very confident in that. Swallowing the bubbling anxiety in the back of your throat, you pressed on down the corridors, finding that familiar spiral staircase. You cautiously walked down it, a little wobbly from balancing the plate of hot food and also from drinking that goblet of wine in one go - you weren't a common drinker so in hindsight you probably should have thought that silly idea through a little more. As you reached the bottom of the staircase, you saw that same warm, amber hue of candlelight flooding out from underneath the door of Snape's office. Your heart began to pound in your ears as you neared his door; knees trembling a little bit.

You knocked on his door with your free hand and waited patiently for a reply.

"Come in." Severus said, sighing. You could sense the muted irritation in his tone, your fingers reaching reluctantly for his doorknob. You grasped it and turned it and opened the door. As you sauntered in, Severus didn't bother to look up, his eyes and nose still buried in what looked to be more… assignments. Does the man never give himself time to relax?

"Hi." You squeaked out awkwardly, leaning back against his door, the plate of food still held carefully in your hands. Severus's head shot up almost instantly at the sound of your voice, his brows furrowing together in what you hoped to be confusion rather than annoyance. "Erm, I brought you some food."

"I'm not hungry." Severus protested with a grunt, looking back down to the assignment in his hand. He must be lying, since you don't recall seeing him at breakfast, nor lunch.

"When did you last eat, Severus?" You asked, shuffling in your spot, attempting to hide the caring tone that accidentally slipped from your lips with a pathetic cough. Snape's brows furrowed deeper, a dark crease forming between them.

"What do you want, Y/N?" Severus groaned, his eyes glued to his desk still. You cleared your throat, demanding his full attention. A deep, exasperated sigh left his lips as he reluctantly tore his eyes away from his work, meeting your concerned ones. "Why does it matter when I last ate?"

"Because human beings need to eat." You arched a brow at him. He didn't seem to appreciate the tone you took with him. "I'm not a normal human being, Y/N." He blinked at you.

"Normal or not, you still need some sort of sustenance." You said matter-of-factly, tilting your head at him, silently ending the debate between you two. You padded towards his desk, pulling up a chair from the side of the room at the same time. You were definitely sure that the wine was encouraging your boldness, you even noticed the slight surprise in Snape's eyes as he continued to stare at you. "Will you eat, please?" You asked with a soft sigh, plopping yourself down in the wooden chair with a muted thud. You held the plate of food out in front of you, almost shoving it in Severus's face. His lips twisted for a quick moment, thinking.

"If it means you leave faster, then yes." His eyes narrowed at you like blunt daggers. The hostility was there, but it wasn't intended to be hurtful. Severus hesitantly took the plate from your hands, and slid the assignments out of the way on his desk, sitting the plate down in the middle.

"Oh!" You exclaimed softly, glancing at your dirty cutlery. "I almost forgot. Scourgify." You pulled out your wand and flicked it at the silverware, watching happily as the muck and grime dissipated from it like ice melting under the sun. Severus looked at you with suspicious eyes, scrutinising you, attempting to comprehend why you had paid him of all people a visit. "How come you left so early?" You queried, sitting back in your chair with your hands in your lap.

"Dinner parties aren't my forte." He replied, spiking a piece of turkey breast with the fork. A small smile painted your lips as you watched him place it in his mouth, his eyes lighting up ever so slightly at the divine taste that painted his tongue. "Perhaps I was mistaken…" He mumbled, glancing down at the plate of turkey, potatoes and green veggies, looking rather awestruck due to the glorious taste that was exploding in his mouth as of right now.

A proud smile slipped onto your lips as you looked away from Severus for a moment, letting your eyes wander around his dimly lit, and rather glum looking office. The bricks were a dark, worn black, with a beige cement sitting between them. He had shelves upon shelves of books, about everything you could ever imagine. Name it, and it's most likely there. So, he was a book nerd, you thought, smiling to yourself. Then, your eyes fell on the most beautiful record player you'd ever seen. Obviously, it was all black to match the whole aesthetic of Snape's office. It sat prettily upon a table in the corner, a small collection of well-kept records were leant up against it.

"You listen to music?" You questioned, a dry laugh escaping your lips as you stood up, drawn to the beautiful object.

"Why is that a surprise?" Snape asked, a little offended that you were shocked by such a revelation.

"Well, you don't exactly give me a music enthusiast vibe," You chuckled softly, glancing at Severus with glossy eyes. The wine had gone to your head slightly. "I can't imagine you listening to music." You added, allowing your chuckle to burst into a soft, hushed laugh. Severus rolled his eyes at you and turned back to his desk, shovelling another mouthful of turkey into his mouth, picking up an assignment with his other hand.

You turned your attention back to the record player and let your fingers trace the beautiful grains and grooves of the wood, the pads of your index and middle finger ending up on his record collection. You let your nosiness kick in as you flicked through them, spotting some seventies rock bands, classical compilations, and… Frank Sinatra?

"Frank Sinatra?" You queried with a curious, amused smile, glancing at Severus over your shoulder. Butterflies exploded like storm in your stomach when you found him already staring at you, though the look on his face wasn't what you wanted. He looked a little miffed. "I like Frank Sinatra." You quickly added, wanting to avoid any sort of conflict. You glanced back to where your fingers where dipping into his record collection, a furious pink blush tinting your pale cheeks. As you slipped your hand away, the end of your finger caught the play button, and suddenly the room was filled with a dark, melancholic and slow rock song. Your eyes widened in panic as you tried frantically to turn it off, however, nothing was working.

"Leave it, I… like it." Came a voice from behind you, immediately halting you in your desperate, albeit poor attempts to pause it. Severus was still sat at his desk, but he was sat back now, a little more relaxed.

"It's nice," you commented quietly, after a beat of silence, braving a look at Severus. His eyes were glued to his desk, the plate of turkey and vegetables pushed messily to the side. He seemed to be battling something. You swallowed thickly and sauntered over to him, your heels clacking against the brick floor. You stopped in front of him and held out your hand. "…Dance with me?" You asked, voice still quiet. The Potions Master looked up at you for several seconds, his harsh, dark eyes flicking to your open palm. Your heart was thumping so loud in your ears you were worried you wouldn't hear his answer.

Luckily for you, he didn't give you one. He just plainly accepted your hand, standing slowly, almost reluctantly. You backed away from his desk, one step at a time, his large, calloused and cold hand still in yours. You stopped in the middle of the room, gently pulling Severus closer to you. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked up to meet his cold gaze, placing his other hand on your hip. You began to sway side to side to the slow beat of the song, his fingers flinching slightly as you moved. Severus found himself lost in your eyes as you stared up at him. He wondered why someone like you had offered to dance with someone like him; it felt wrong almost, a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin, good and bad. As the chorus got going, a bright grin broke out on your face as Severus lifted his arm up to twirl you around, the skirt of your dress blooming outwards like a flower. His chest tightened as you stumbled slightly, your hand slipping onto his chest to steady yourself.

"Sorry." you muttered almost inaudibly, looking up at Snape through your lashes bashfully. He didn't reply, he only danced with you more, and you saw his the corner of his lips quirk up in a small, almost miniscule smile. Your heart fluttered at the sight and your smile was back on your face.

The two of you continued to dance carelessly to the song playing in the background, and any worries and anxieties had been long forgotten ever since the two of you touched palms. You found yourself getting lost in his eyes as Severus twirled you around again, a loud laugh leaving your lips as he brought you back towards him, his eyes half-lidded with admiration. You lifted your hand up this time and attempted to twirl Snape around. He almost fought against it, but the sad pout on your lips ultimately broke him, and so he let you twirl him around.

Severus didn't know what he was feeling as his hands found your waist, his stomach was in knots and his chest was tingly, it wasn't normal, and it worried him slightly. But his buzzing, worrisome thoughts were soon calmed the moment his dark, troubled eyes met with your bright, carefree ones. The sound of your laugh made him feel things he hadn't felt in years, and your beaming, gleeful grin sent shivers down his cruel spine. It felt so wrong, but it felt so right having you in his arms; having you this close to him. A few months ago, he wouldn't have dared to dream of feeling so… vulnerable. And with a Hufflepuff no less. Snape had always despised them, he'd believed them to be the weakest house, but your utter resilient yet soft nature had totally swayed him. He'd be lying if he said your beauty hadn't completely captured his attention too, though he would never ever admit that.

You reminded him slightly of Lily, and that's what frightened him. He let himself fall in love once, and he wasn't sure he was going to let himself do it again. Actually, he was adamant. He couldn't bear to deal with that pain again, it almost killed him. He wouldn't be able to stomach seeing you lifeless on the floor, your eyes dead and lifeless. Your life was not worth risking for his sake of happiness. Suddenly, Severus switched emotions like the speed of sound. He immediately released you from his grasp, you grin and laughter silencing immediately. It felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart the second your laughter ceased.

"Get out." He said coldly, pushing you backwards. Your brows furrowed at his words, confusion painting your face.

"…What?" You blinked at him, trying to comprehend what he'd just said.

"I said get out." Snape seethed. His tone was angry, relentless, cruel, uncaring. Before, it felt like you'd just opened another door with him, inviting you into his world, and then you'd been kicked out and sent to a different one.

"But… Severus…" You swallowed thickly, your throat tightening as tears began to burn your eyes. Was it something you said? Something you did?

Little did you know, it was something you did. You'd made him happy, you'd made him feel human again. After so long of shutting off his feelings and building a fortress around his emotions, encasing them in metres and metres of thick, impenetrable concrete, you'd broken through so easily, and it terrified him. His mind instantly shut off, almost like a defence mechanism the moment it felt anything other than hatred or resentment for another person.

Gods, it fucking hurt to see you cry because of him, but he couldn't show it, he refused to let you get hurt, or worse, killed because of his own selfish thoughts. And so he turned his back on you, his black cloak acting like a shield as he leant against his desk with white knuckles.

It felt like everything you'd done to get to know Severus had just been broken down a million times and thrown back in your face. It felt like… betrayal, almost, but you weren't sure why.

Hot tears were streaming down your face now as you stared at his back. He's shut you out. That's it, all those days, months you spent trying to get to know him went to waste. You sucked in a shaky breath and turned around, rushing to the door. You hesitated for moment, glancing over your shoulder. You'd hoped he might've changed his mind, but Snape still had his back turned to you, his head dropped in front of him. A strangled cry left your throat uncontrollably as you stomped angrily out of his office, wiping away your tears with harsh fingers as you stormed back to your quarters. Thank Merlin it was Christmas break now. Perhaps it was for the best.

part 6

ok pls dont hate me for the end lmaooo i just couldnt help myself LOL </3

let me know if you enjoyed this chapter, the next movie i'll focus on is prisoner of azkaban aka my favourite hehe, however that wont be for another few chapters i think. another update wont be due until tuesday or wednesday <3

thank you for all your support i honestly dont deserve it :') <33

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exorcxqsm · 28 days ago

Text

Pas de Deux with Sin

Word Count: 3,5k

tags: yandere;sylus, alteration of religious concepts, manipulative behavior, suggestive content, hints of stalking if you squint

author's note: Hello, little monsters. Welcome to my very first ongoing work here on the blog. I’m intrigued to see how this goes and to find out if you all enjoy this as much as I did. This piece is just a small atmospheric prologue for a story I have in mind. If you find yourself curious about it, feel free to drop a comment on this post—especially since the prologue ends on a cliffhanger (totally intentional, by the way). I’d really appreciate any likes and reblogs. And if you have any requests or questions about this fic, my asks are open, so reach out. Just a little heads up; This is just the appetizer. It will only get darker from here. Read my masterpost to get a taste of the themes this blog will be all about, before continuing.

In a place where dawn never dared to break and the night held the town in a suffocating embrace, fear lingered like the acrid scent of blood. A heavy dread settled over the streets, wrapping around the inhabitants like a funeral shroud. The twilight twisted every shadow into a lurking menace, prompting the unwary to cast anxious glances over their shoulders as they hurried through the cobbled alleys.

Amidst this pervasive sense of evil, there stood a cathedral deep within the gnarled woods, a solitary bastion against the encroaching dread. Its weathered stones and crumbling façade whispered of abandonment and haunting, yet in the whispered tales of the townsfolk, it was revered as the last flicker of hope in a Zone gone dark.

You walked through the woods, your fingers curled tightly around the handle of the basket you’d fashioned, pulling it close to your chest as if it were a lifeline. The biting cold seeped through the fabric of your long black gown, chilling your bones beneath the laced veil that draped over your head, shielding you from prying eyes. Each step was quick and deliberate, a desperate attempt to evade the shadows that loomed, harboring the very things you feared.

As you approached the cathedral, the wooden staircase creaked underfoot. You reached the enormous double doors, pushing with all your strength, the hinges groaning in protest. The doors creaked open, their shrill complaint sending a shiver down your spine. You stepped inside, letting the heavy doors slam shut behind you, the echo reverberating in the hollow silence of the sanctuary.

The cathedral loomed like a forgotten relic, its exterior battered by the relentless passage of time, yet inside, it unfolded into a realm of unexpected magnificence. The marble surfaces gleamed softly in the dim light, reflecting flickers of shadows that danced across the statues lining the walls. Each figure seemed to whisper secrets from the past, while the crucifix at the chancel’s heart loomed large, a silent sentinel in the enveloping gloom.

As you stepped further into the church, the warm glow of votive candles cast a light upon the altar, wrapping the space in a cocoon of safety. You could feel the air shift, infused with the scent of melting wax and a hint of incense, as if the very essence of hope lingered here, waiting for weary souls to find refuge.

The flickering flames hinted at the presence of Father Reymond, who always tended to this sacred place with an unwavering devotion. You reached up to remove the delicate lace veil from your head, its intricate patterns whispering against your skin, when a sudden flicker of the sanctuary lamp caught your eye. You paused, eyes closing momentarily, as you fought against the creeping unease that threatened to invade your thoughts. This cathedral was your sanctuary, your haven amid the chaos.

“Child, I didn’t expect to see you here today. Didn’t you have a fever yesterday?” Father Reymond’s calm, reassuring voice echoed from the shadows, drawing a small smile to your lips as you turned to face him.

“I know I shouldn’t be here, especially with this persistent cough, but is there a better place to heal than God’s home?”

An appreciative hum escaped him as he continued to light the votive candles, their flames flickering like tiny stars in the twilight. “Your spirit is stronger than any illness, my dear. But I worry about you.”

You glanced toward the stained glass window, its shattered fragments reflecting the growing storm outside, the wind howling like a restless spirit. “The town feels… different lately. Like a weight pressing down on us. Have you noticed it? The murmurs in the night?”

Father Raymond's hand hung suspended in the dim light, an unspoken weight settling in the air around him. A weary sigh escaped his lips as he rubbed his temples, the tension in his shoulders palpable. “Evil has a way of creeping into the cracks of the soul, much like the damp that seeps into these ancient stones. It festers and grows, nourished by fear and despair.”

“Father… Do you think they’re back?” You dared to voice the thought that had clawed at your mind for days. “It feels as if they’re watching us, as if they know more than we do. Sometimes I wonder if this forest is guarding something—or hiding it.”

He stepped closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder, grounding you in the moment. “Legends often carry a kernel of truth. But remember, my child, we must not lose hope, even when it feels as though the darkness is winning.”

With a heavy heart, you closed your eyes, kneeling at the altar, your hands clasped together in prayer. “I feel like I’m drowning in all this gloom. It’s as if a curse hangs over us. The townsfolk are restless, and I can’t shake the feeling that something terrible is about to happen.”

Father Raymond hesitated, the flickering candlelight casting fleeting shadows across his face, revealing a flicker of concern in his eyes. He seemed torn—caught between the urge to comfort you and the need to allow you space to find your peace.

His footsteps echoed softly as he moved toward the exit, pausing just before crossing the threshold. He turned to look back at your kneeling form, his brow knit with worry. “Remember, light can pierce even the thickest shadows. Do not underestimate the power you hold.”

The dim light of the cathedral flickered as the last echoes of Father Raymond’s words faded into the shadows. Alone now, you knelt at the altar, your breath mingling with the chill that seeped through the cracked stained glass windows. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone and melting beeswax, while the flickering candle flames cast dancing shadows that whispered secrets along the walls.

Before you, the crucifix loomed, stark against the darkness—a figure of suffering suspended in time. Its presence filled the space with a solemn weight, and you found your gaze drawn to the eyes of Christ, searching for solace that felt just out of reach. “God… where are You?” you whispered, your voice barely breaking the heavy silence. You clasped your hands tighter, fingers intertwining as if holding onto a lifeline, desperate for connection.

Outside, the storm raged, the wind howled like a banshee through the trees, shaking the very foundations of the abandoned church. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, sending shivers down your spine. With each crack of lightning, the shadows deepened, stretching and twisting as if alive, reaching for you with dark intent. The cold crept in through the broken window, wrapping around you like a serpent, tightening its grip.

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on your prayer, but images of fear and despair flooded your mind. "Please, grant me strength," you murmured, though doubt clawed at your heart like a beast. The stillness of the cathedral felt oppressive, the silence punctuated only by the distant rumble of thunder and the soft drip of rain against the stone.

Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed through the air, the sound of wood straining against an unseen force. Your eyes snapped open, heart racing as the heavy door creaked open, the sound eerily resonant in the stillness. A gust of wind rushed in, swirling the candle flames and casting erratic shadows that danced across the altar, as if mocking your fragile sense of safety.

From the depths of darkness, a pair of wings flapped—a quick, unsettling sound that sent a chill coursing through you. The shadows shifted, coiling ominously in the corners of your vision, thickening the air with an unnameable tension. It felt as if the very essence of the cathedral had shifted, warping the familiar into something sinister. You held your breath, your heart pounding in a frantic rhythm that echoed the storm raging outside.

Silence answered, thick and palpable, pressing down on you like a heavy cloak. Yet, amidst that stillness, you could feel him—a presence that brushed against your skin like the cold wind seeping through the broken panes, wrapping around you like a shroud. The flap of crow wings echoed again, dissonant and jarring, slicing through the oppressive quiet. Shadows loomed larger, and the flickering candlelight seemed to struggle against the encroaching darkness, fighting a losing battle.

Then you heard it—the soft, deliberate crunch of footsteps on the worn stone floor. Your heartbeat quickened, a wild drum in the silence, as you strained to peer into the dark, but the shadows swallowed everything whole.

“Praying for salvation, are we?” The voice was low and smooth, dripping with a mocking tone that reverberated in the empty sanctuary, as if the very walls conspired to amplify his presence.

Sylus.

“Leave me be,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. You clenched your fists, fighting against the creeping dread that coiled around you.

“I’ve always found it curious how you think the shadows can be kept at bay with mere prayers.” You could hear him moving, the rustle of fabric against stone, a ghostly presence just beyond your sight. He was circling you, prowling like a predator, and the knowledge of his proximity made your skin crawl.

“Why do you come here?” you gritted your teeth, struggling to mask the tremor in your voice. “You don’t belong in the light.”

“But the light only makes the darkness more profound, doesn’t it?” His voice slithered through the air. “Every flicker of hope you cling to, I can extinguish with a whisper.”

A sudden gust of cold air swept through the cathedral, sending a shiver down your spine. The chill seeped into your bones, and you could almost feel the weight of his gaze pressing down on you, even though he remained cloaked in shadows. “You think you scare me?”

“Scare you? No, I merely remind you of the truth.” He paused, allowing the silence to stretch, thick and heavy, like the oppressive atmosphere of the cathedral itself. “You know I can enter here whenever I please. This sanctuary of yours… it was never meant to keep me out.”

Terror gripped your heart, a vice tightening around your chest. “You’re wrong. This is sacred ground.”

“Sacred?” Sylus chuckled darkly, the sound echoing like a distant thunderclap. “You’re adorning your prison with flowers, but the bars remain. You feel it, don’t you? The pull of darkness, beckoning you closer.”

With every syllable, the shadows deepened, curling around you like tendrils of smoke, heavy with foreboding. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to focus on the crucifix above, the figure of Christ caught in eternal agony.

But the moment was shattered as a flash of movement caught your eye. Just at the edge of your vision, two glowing red eyes pierced the darkness, watching you with an intensity that threatened to consume your very soul.

“Look at me,” he urged, his voice now a low, sinister murmur, “Embrace what you fear most.”

As you locked your gaze with his, the shadows shifted, revealing his striking figure standing just beyond the altar. Sylus, with his long white hair flowing like silken threads against the backdrop of the gloom, shimmering subtly in the dim light. The tailored black suit clung to his form, accentuating the sharp lines of his shoulders and the strong contours of his chest. Each movement was fluid and predatory, as if he owned the very space around him, a dark lord surveying his domain. Your domain.

The flickering candlelight danced around him, casting erratic shadows that transformed him into an ethereal specter, both mesmerizing and terrifying.

Your heart raced, captivated and terrified all at once. Those red eyes, glowing unnaturally under the flickering sanctuary lamp, pierced through the gloom, shimmering like embers and sin.

“This isn’t your kingdom, no matter how you act,” you forced your voice to remain steady despite the tremor in your chest.

His red eyes glowed with a malevolent light, and you could see the corners of his lips curl into a sardonic smile. “Oh, but isn’t that just it?” he replied, his voice smooth like silk. “You think this forsaken place offers you sanctuary. But shadows know no boundaries.”

As he paced slowly around your kneeling form, the very air seemed to thicken with his presence, pressing against your skin like a heavy fog. You could almost feel the cathedral's ancient stones trembling in response to him. “You’re not welcome here. You were supposed to stay away from this place. You don’t belong here.”

“Belonging is such a fragile concept,” he countered, his tone dripping with disdain. “Especially for you. You cling to the idea of safety, yet you invite chaos with every whispered prayer. Your God cannot shield you from the truth.”

“Truth?” you echoed, your voice wavering under the weight of his piercing gaze. “What truth? That you thrive on fear? In darkness?”

Sylus’s lips curled into a smirk, revealing a hint of amusement that made your skin crawl. “Fear is merely a response, sweet girl. It’s what makes you human. And you, with your brave little heart, are so deliciously human.”

You clenched your fists, refusing to let him see you falter. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Yet here you are, trembling in the remnants of your faith.”

The wind howled outside, rattling the broken windows as if in response to your exchange, a mournful wail echoing through the desolate space. You could feel the chill creeping into your bones, yet it paled in comparison to the icy tendrils of fear that wrapped around your spine as he drew nearer.

“This is my sanctuary,” you locked your gaze with his. “You’ll never take that from me.”

“But I already have. Every time you falter, every time you doubt the light, I am here, waiting. You can pray all you want, but I will always find my way back.”

With that, he took a step back, the shadows swallowing him momentarily before he loomed into view once more, his red eyes burning in the dark. Your heart raced as you grappled with the undeniable truth of his words, feeling the weight of his gaze as he surveyed you, a predator delighting in the hunt.

“Remember, sweetie,” he whispered, his voice echoing in the stillness of the cathedral. “Even in your sanctuary, you will never be truly safe.”

You inhaled sharply, feeling the chill of his aura brush against your skin like a cold whisper. “I won’t let you win.”

“Win? You misunderstand.” He stepped closer, letting his face become a dark specter against the flickering candlelight. “This is not a game of victory or defeat. It’s a dance, and you are already caught in my web.”

The flickering candlelight cast a trembling glow over the cathedral, but the warmth was eclipsed by the chilling presence of the man before you. You pushed yourself up from your kneeling position, desperate to escape the oppressive weight of his gaze and the overwhelming dark energy that seemed to seep into your bones.

As you took a step back, he moved with an uncanny grace, blocking your path with a slight tilt of his head, an amused smile dancing on his lips. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Let me pass.” The tension crackled in the air between you, thick enough to cut.

“Why would I do that?” He took a step closer, his presence enveloping you, making the air feel impossibly heavy. “You should know by now that the darkness always finds a way to draw you back in.” His red eyes glowed brighter as he spoke, his evol radiating in waves from him, wrapping around you like a dark shroud.

You could feel the very essence of the cathedral shifting, as if the ancient stones themselves were complicit in this twisted encounter, urging you to surrender to the allure of the darkness.

“I won’t let you control me!” you shot back, forcing yourself to cut eye contact, even as a part of you ached to remain lost in the intensity of his power.

“But you’re not as innocent as you pretend to be.” His voice lowered to a dark whisper. “You wear your faith like a mask, but underneath, there’s something that yearns for the desires you claim to resist.”

Sylus stepped closer, the space between you shrinking until you could feel the heat radiating from him—a warmth that felt both inviting and dangerously seductive. “You’re drawn to it, just as I am drawn to you. You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The promising freedom from the chains of your so-called faith.”

You clenched your jaw, fighting against the insidious grip of his words. “That’s a lie. I believe in the light. I fight against the darkness. Against you.”

He leaned in, your bodies almost touching, the intensity palpable. “Is that what you tell yourself?” He smirked, the corners of his lips curling in a way that sent a thrill of dread and intrigue coursing through you. “Lies are such a comforting blanket, aren’t they? You’re a part of this, and you can’t deny it.”

As he spoke, an involuntary urge surged within him—a longing to reach out, to touch you, to bridge the chasm of tension that crackled between you. It was a dangerous instinct, one he fought to suppress, but the pull of your presence was intoxicating.

You could feel it in the way he looked at you.

“Stop,” you whispered, though it felt more like a plea than a command. “You’re twisting everything I believe in.”

“Am I?” His voice dripped with honeyed malice as he moved even closer, his breath warm against your skin, igniting a shiver down your spine.

“Your faith is a fragile thing, sweetie… Just one touch…” His words hung in the air, thick with unspoken promise, as his fingertips brushed against your collarbone, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you.

You gasped, heart racing like a caged bird desperate for escape. “Don’t,” you warned, the word tinged with desperation, feeling it clash against the tide of emotions swelling within you. He was messing with your head—that much was certain.

“Why not? We’re both standing on the precipice, and you know it,” he murmured, his breath mingling with your own. “You’re afraid of what you might find if you let go of your faith. But you’re also curious, aren’t you?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his gaze bearing down on you like the oppressive darkness outside. “I refuse to be a pawn in your game.”

Sylus leaned in, impossibly close, his nose brushing against yours, igniting a blush that crept up your neck like fire. “Then why do you linger?”

Your knees felt weak, your erratic breathing the only sound beyond the howling wind and rain battering the cathedral’s ancient walls. “I do not.”

In an instant, the air shifted, heavy with an unnatural energy that sent a chill racing down your spine. Sylus’s presence began to dissolve before your eyes. Shadows curled and twisted around him, black and red mist swirling like smoke, cloaking him in a veil of darkness. You reached out instinctively, but he was already slipping away, his form fading into the night as if he were never there at all.

The flickering candlelight struggled against the encroaching shadows, casting erratic shapes that danced across the stone walls. Your heart raced, confusion flooding your mind. Where had he gone?

The atmosphere thickened, heavy with a foreboding silence that filled the cathedral like a suffocating fog.

As the last remnants of his silhouette vanished, a few black feathers fluttered to the ground, landing softly at your feet. You knelt to touch them, heart pounding, feeling the soft texture beneath your fingers.

The moment was shattered as a deafening crash of thunder echoed through the night, shaking the very foundations of the cathedral. The candles flickered violently, their flames struggling to stay alive, before plunging the space into darkness.

A gust of wind howled through the broken windows, rattling the stained glass as if the very spirits of the cathedral were awakening. The statues that adorned the sanctuary trembled, their stone faces contorted in silent screams as the storm intensified outside, a chaotic symphony of nature’s wrath.

A cacophony of sounds erupted—distant screams of the wind, the violent patter of rain, and something deeper, an ominous whisper that seemed to rise from the shadows themselves. You felt the air grow colder, the darkness pressing in around you, heavy and suffocating. Panic clawed at your throat as you searched the shadows, heart racing.

“I hate liars.”

And then, without warning, he was there—behind you, a wraith emerging from the void. The air crackled with a sinister energy as you turned, and the world seemed to spin, your breath catching in your throat. Sylus stood just a breath away, his red eyes glowing like embers in the darkness, piercing through the night.

“Run.”

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