#backrooms level 5

[lastknowntravler]

Terrorhotelhearthic

[pt / Terrorhotelhearthic \ end pt]

A hearthic term for when one’s hearthome is connected to or just is Level 5 “Terror Hotel” of The Backrooms

[zirconiumscene]

oh my gosh the rooms when theyre in the back entity 185 and 18 fr

[caelumroxas]

THEY PUT ME IN THE GAME!!!! | Backrooms Exploration - Part 4

Thank you everyone who watched the premiere! If you missed it, please give the video a watch!

[nogacheloveka-blog]

Long story short

He caught the cat, but in reality, he was the one caught by her. He hadn't seen cats in a long time.

Он поймал кошку, но на самом деле был пойман ею. Он не видел кошек довольно длинное время.

[xxmia0wm4yh3mxx]

Funnys got an idea

[vallxlkzal]

Вони живуть разом, тому що Комік не йде більше нікуди. Звір вже просто втомився його виганяти.

Жарти про пеніс

[thejournallo]

"as a person that have entered the backrooms many times, I do not suggest having or trying to have that experience with the backrooms."

- ok now i'm curious. can you tell us what kind of experiences you had there? and is there perhaps a pattern in those experiences?

hi!

I had many experiences in the backrooms and in the actual void in general. Most of my experiences are caused by the fact that I don't know how I end up there because I simply wake up there, willingly or not.

I got used to the thought that even if I dream after my dream, I will be at one of the levels.

Now a little explanation:

the worlds we want to shift into, and our CR are the frontdoors; the backrooms are the backdoors. A visual explanation will be a house with a front and back entrance, and the middle of the house is divided by a wall of bricks. If you go for the front, everything will have an aura, and when you enter from the back, you will have another. That brick wall is the void.

The backrooms are a labyrinth of level, with many types of entities in them. Some are really good entertainers, and some are more violent.

to answer one of your questions:

Yes, there is a pattern. at least from what I have observed.

Every time I wake up, I have to find the exit, and the exit is always on the same level as when I first woke up.

The backroom will try to trick me into going up and down; if I do, I will take stairs, go down into holes, climb ladders, and use poles to go down. I will find myself at another random level.

The levels do not have a precise order; if I wake up in level 14 and go down a ladder, I can find myself in level 46.

not every level is a liminal space, some levels will look a lot more like rooms or houses than liminal spaces.

Not every entity is bad, but some just look scary.

As for my experiences, as I said before, I had my sweet, gentle time to explore the backrooms, and since they are always expanding, you can't really finish exploring. When I find myself in a peaceful backroom, I like to take my time and always be careful of my surroundings.

The void itself is enough to corrupt the most innocent person in the world because, as beautiful as it is, it looks like the space, the waves, and the negativity that resides in it are just too much for a simple human. The backrooms have less of that, depending on how close the room is to the core of the void. That's why humans are more likely to appear in the backrooms than in the void itself.

I don't know what else to add, honestly, because I always talked so little about the backroom itself, so if you have any questions, I will be more than happy to answer! and you are totaly free to not belive me i will understand that!

[ushirofan]

[pop-r0ckz]

JANE, FOR THE LOVE OF MATER LUNAE STOP GOING NEAR PSYCHOLOGICAL HAZARDS GHGFHJGJ

silly goofy doodle =]

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Obsessed!Coriolanus Snow x Innocent!Reader, Obsessed!Crassus Snow x Innocent!Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Cussing, obsession, older man/younger woman, father & son both want the same girl, reader is just too sweet for this world and has no idea that the men in the Snow family are toxic...

Masterlist

Part 1:

You've known Coriolanus Snow and his family ever since you were a little girl. When the war started, you were about 5, and Crassus, Coriolanus' father, helped you, your mother, and your brother get smuggled into the Capitol as a favor to your father, a Colonel who served under him in District 12 while he was a General; the Commander.

Sadly your father, Colonel Javanis Halvir, didn't survive the war. Tragically, Coriolanus' mother died during the first bombing strike on Capitol City. She died in the birthing bed, weeks before she was due, because the bombing had triggered off her labor. Coriolanus' little sister died too. Was stillborn.

But since your families knew one another and lived in the same building they huddled together during the war. Your mother wasn't too thrilled about having to receive help from Grandma’am Snow and a seedy neighbor that owned a nightclub, but she dealt with it in order to survive and protect her children: you and your older brother.

General Crassus Snow barely made it out of the war alive. He was nearly killed in the woods outside of 12. But, alas, he survived and returned home to Capitol City, Panem a war hero. He also came back with a heavily lined pocket although District 13 was destroyed and that's where all of his assets, factories, and science labs were located.

Your mother told you and your brother that Crassus was a cold, cunning, calculating man and that she's positive that he somehow brokered a deal to get paid for the loss of his assets.

What nobody knows, except for the higher powers that be of course, is that Crassus still has his factories and labs in District 13. They're nuclear weapons factories and, since 13 went underground as an independent nation via a hush hush backroom midnight deal between the leader of 13 and Panem's President Ravenstill, a deal that went into effect before the Districts surrender and the signing of the Treaty of Treason. Crassus is a black market arms dealer. He sells his nucs to neighboring countries. Countries that include Canada (yes, they never changed their name after the wars and natural disasters that drastically changed the geography of the world) and a small coalition of old world Eastern European countries that survived the rising sea levels that had eradicated some island countries and shoreline countries of old world Europe.

Crassus Snow takes a lot of out of town business trips to broker illegal arms deals between the underground District 13 and the countries that he's constructed alliances with. General Crassus Snow had no loyalties to Panem any more; his only loyalties were to himself and his family. He also had a sliver of a sense of honor when it came to his old comrade’s family and felt the need to watch over your family: the Halvir family.

But after being shot by rebels, left for dead in the woods, and barely being able to survive long enough to trek back to the PK Base D-12’s hospital, General Crassus Snow truly lost faith in the country that he was supposed to serve proudly. But did he ever truly have faith in Panem as a country since he was in the woods, sneaking like a thief in the night, to get to District 13 to check his assets and his alliances there?

Snow lands on top; Crassus was playing both sides of the war to ensure that his family came out winners. And then when his contacts in District 13 told him of the deal between the President and the Commander of 13, well…General Snow's career as an arms dealer was born.

It paid well and kept the Snow family living high off the hog. Crassus also supported your family with his endless money, much to your mother's dismay.

Your mother couldn't stand Crassus, out on a polite face for Grandma'am Snow, felt sorry for Tigris, and cringed with how you and Coriolanus were the best of friends.

And you remained best friends with Coriolanus Snow as the two of you grew up side by side. You always viewed the friendship as platonic, but a teenaged Coriolanus viewed it as more. He developed a crush on you that quickly turned into a dark, possessive obsession.

But Coriolanus was certain that what he felt for you was love.

And when it came to his father, who he was the spitting image of with the same tall, sinewy build, platinum blonde curls, striking icy blue eyes, chiseled jawline, and prominent nose, well…Crassus Snow had an obsession with you as well. But his obsession was rooted in a darker place than his son's.

The esteemed war here General Crassus Snow has a sick obsession with you because you favor your mother. And, well, when Crassus was a young grunt in 12, serving in the Peacekeepers under his father Xanthos who was the Commander of 12 at that time, he fell for your mother, but she didn't reciprocate his feelings. Instead she fell in love with his friend, Javanis Halvir. Thus the reason you and your older brother were born to Colonel Halvir and Mrs. Halvir.

Feeling jilted and betrayed by the object of his affection and obsession not loving him back, Crassus became a cold, cruel, cold, calculating, and cunning man. He put on his charming smile and wooed a young, pretty, naive girl from Capitol City. Demeter: Coriolanus’ mother.

But he never got over your mother, despite her hating him as the years went on. So you looking just like her once you hit your teenage years has Crassus falling down the rabbit hole into dark obsessive head spaces.

So, unknown to you, your platonic relationships with the men in the Snow family are anything, but that in their eyes. And they don't even know that the other has an obsession with you.

You know what they say…like father, like son.

It's mid-May of your senior year at the Academy and you're so ready for the school year to end. You can't wait for graduation and for summer break. You also can't wait for the opportunity to spend your summer break hanging out with your best friend, Coryo.

Coriolanus Snow.

But you call him Coryo. Always have, always will.

But in the meantime you spend your weekends at the Snow penthouse; you also go home with him after school a couple of days during the week- much to your mother's dismay.

And this afternoon’s one of those days where you go home with Coryo after school.

“You're staying for dinner tonight, darling. The cook’s making your absolute favorite and I'd hate for you to miss out on it.” Coryo told you on the elevator ride up to the 12th floor of your Corso building.

The elevator had been broken for a few years, but after General Snow slapped some money at the apartment building association maintenance fixed the elevator and Grandma'am Snow was able to leave the penthouse and go out into the world with the help of a can instead of being kept locked up inside like a recluse.

“I hope you didn't ask the cook to make my favorite meal just to get me to stay for dinner.”

“Of course not. They plan the menu, not me.” Coryo tells you, a lopsided lipped smile on his face.

What neither of you knew was that Coryo's father, Crassus, and told (more so demanded) that the cook make your favorite meal. He knew that you'd be easier to sway to eat dinner with him and his family if the smell of your favorite dish was wafting in the air as you hung out with his son in his room.

And that was something Crassus was going to be putting a stop to. He can't have you spending so much time alone in Coriolanus' bedroom. What if the two of you start to become curious about- things…

Ugh, Crassus can't imagine you with his son. He thinks Coriolanus is a sassy, whinny, bratty, weakling of an heir. Too bad he couldn't toughen that boy up; too bad he's too much like his mother. Has too much good in him, can be easily pushed and pulled by a pretty face and the promise of love.

Crassus would prefer it if Coriolanus was more like him. More cold, more cunning, more calculated, and didn't wear his feelings on his damn sleeves.

Anyways…

The elevator stops and the doors ding open, revealing the hallway of the 12th floor. A floor that was solely inhabited by the mighty Snow family. They had the upper level penthouse that took the entire floor. It was quite impressive. You love it, but your mother hates it.

And talk about your mother…

“I know you want me to stay for dinner, Coryo, but I really shouldn't. My mother's been getting on me lately about how much time I spend up here with you.” You tell the boy with the light golden curls as the two of you exit the elevator.

“Your mother needs to take a chill pill. You're my girl, darling. It's completely normal to be spending all of your free time up here.” Coryo tells you while leading you over to the front door of his penthouse, palm of his hand resting lazily on the small of your back.

“I know, Coryo, but my mother hates that we're besties and she wants me to meet new people.”

“Meet new people?” Coryo scoffed, brows furrowed in disdain, as he opened the door to his place. “There's nobody new in Capitol City our age to meet, darling. Not unless you go to the mission in the slums by the rail station and start introducing yourself to those District immigrants that conned their way into our grand Capitol.” The cerulean eyes boy told you while ushering you into his penthouse and down the entrance hallway.

Coriolanus was personally offended by your mother. How dare she tell you to meet new people? You belong to him. You're his girl.

HIS GIRL!

HIS!

Coriolanus was good at schooling his features, considering he's been doing it his entire life to keep from letting his father know how bad his harsh and hateful words affected him, so you didn't catch onto how upset he was with your mother. No, you thought he was fine. As cool as a cucumber as he led you past the kitchen, where the cook was starting on dinner, and into the main room of the penthouse to acknowledge Grandma’am, who's always sitting in her favorite chair watching her soaps on CapitolTV during this time of the late afternoon.

“Oh, Coriolanus, you're home and I see you brought Y/N over to visit with you.” Grandma'am Snow, who was dressed to the nines in her jeweled turbin, silk tunic, extravagant jeweled brooch, and long strand of pearls. She was the epitome of Old Guard aristocratic lady of fineries and class.

“Yes, Grandma'am I'm home and my darling’s staying for dinner tonight.” Coriolanus smiles at his grandmother.

Coryo silently nudges you forward to give Grandma'am a hug while greeting her. It's something you've done you years and he doesn't want you to stop doing it either since his Grandma’am adores you.

If only Grandma'am could persuade his father that you're a good match for him. The old lady gets it, why can't his father get it? You and Coriolanus belong together; make quite the pair.

But if the platinum haired boy with a halo of curls on his head only knew that he wasn't the only one obsessed and lusting after you- well…

“Good afternoon, Grandma'am. It's so good to see you.” You smile sweetly, hugging the regal old woman that you've come to love and think of as your own grandmother over the years.

“It's also so good to see you too, my dear.” Grandma'am replies, patting your back as she reciprocates the hug. “Has our Coriolanus asked you to the prom yet?” She inquired, as a way to push you and her grandson together, your hug broke apart.

“Not officially, but we have an understanding that we'll be going together since we go to all of the galas, balls, and dances together.” You tell Grandma’am while returning to Coryo's side.

Coryo’s fiddling with the strap of his satchel, that's currently across his chest, as he awaits Grandma'am’s reply. Or, a lecture aimed at him to properly ask you. A lecture she's been giving him daily since the beginning of the month.

And sure as shit, Coriolanus gets his prom lecture.

Grandma'am looks at her grandson, who's his father's spitting image, and firmly tell him, “Coriolanus, properly ask her. You're a Snow and as a Snow doesn't assume things, but makes them happen.” Cutting her eyes at her only grandchild, she orders in a grandmotherly way, “Now, properly as her as your prom date before somebody else tries to snatch her up from you.”

You felt a bit awkward. Grandma'am’s lecture was something you felt she should've given Coryo in private, not while you're by his side. It wasn't meant for your ears, or at least you don't think it was.

Coriolanus’ lips draw taunt into a tight line as he tells his grandmother, “Yes, Grandma'am.” He half nods at her before turning to you. Giving you a smile that shows too many teeth, like a wolf baring its fangs before its prey, he takes your hands in his and asks, “Y/N, my darling rose, will you do me the honor of going to prom with me?”

It felt more like a marriage proposal than a promposal. Aren't promposals supposed to be fun and exciting with songs, dances, and glittery handmade poster boards? Not so serious. Right?

Right?

You're already going to prom with Coryo, but since you've been out on the spot with a promposal you have to formally accept. All thanks to Grandma'am.

“Of course I'll go to prom with you, Coryo.” You answered your best friend, causing his icy eyes to sparkle with joy.

It all felt so surreal. A bit heavy too. Honestly, it felt like you were agreeing to give your best friend your hand in marriage right in front of his regal grandmother then agreeing to go to prom.

Unknown to you, you accepting Coryo's proposal was, in fact, you agreeing to a future marriage to him in the delusional minds of both Coriolanus and Grandma’am.

Mhm…

You just signed your freedom away by saying yes to prom and you don't even know it, all because you view your relationship as platonic. Too bad the platinum blonde boy with baby blue eyes and his sophisticated grandma view the relationship as something more.

Coryo's father, Crassus, also views your relationship with his son as platonic. But that's for an entirely different reason; one that would make you gasp from shock if you knew.

After making Grandma’am Snow the happiest lady alive in Capitol City by accepting Coryo's proposal, you went to his bedroom to do homework with him. And when your class assignments were done, you two just laid on his bed while listening to music.

It was a new album that Coryo had to get the neighbor, Pluribus Bell, to smuggle to him because Crassus refused to give his son the money for the album. In fact the former General turned Minister of National Security, and black market arms dealer, hates the music you and his son listens to. Crassus is more of a classical music and soft jazz type, so he hates the poetic lyrics and the vibe of the beats of the alternative indie and pop you and Coryo enjoy so much.

The album was on its second playback while you cuddled into Coryo's side. His large, but lanky frame always made you feel so safe. So protected. And, your best friend's lanky, he does have solid muscles under his skin.

Having you tucked into his side while lying on his bed listening to the new album that an artist the both of you loves just dropped is like being in heaven for Coriolanus. Growing up the platinum blonde boy with a head full of soft curls and striking baby blue eyes always had you by his side. You're his one constant. No matter what, you're always there for him.

It's what makes Coryo crave you like Dean Casca Highbottom craves his morphling fix every 15 minutes. You always being there for him, being by his side for better or worse during your childhood friendship, is what caused him to grow obsessively in love with you.

But the problem is, in his delusional mind, Coriolanus thinks that you're in love with him too. All because of how you're always letting him cuddle you, hug you, and touch you. Letting him call you darling while you often call him ‘my Coryo' while talking about him to others also has him thinking that your feelings for him mirrors the ones he has for you.

You and Coryo are talking about small things, silly things really, whenever the bedroom door opens with a loud band followed by the deep bellowing of Crassus Snow. “Why're you two alone in here listening to this trash?”

“She's not a trashy singer, father. She's one of the best.” Coriolanus retorted, causing his imposing and stern father to fill his icy eyes at him. “Y/N and I were doing homework and decided to listen to some music afterwards.” Your best friend added in, to answer his father's stupid question about why you're in his room.

“General Snow, if me being alone in Coryo's room with him gets him in trouble with you then I'm sorry; I'll just go.” You apologized to the Snow patriarch while making to pull away from Coryo and sit up.

But your best friend wouldn't let you leave his side. No. Actually, his hold around you tightened.

And that made Crassus pissed. His sniveling brat of a son didn't deserve you. You deserved a real man to care for you; to guide you on your journey of womanhood.

Crassus felt that he's the Snow for you. The only man that can mold you into the perfect Capitolite lady you're meant to be. And when he successfully gets rid of old President Ravenstill and wins the next presidential election, well, he plans on making you his wife and his First Lady.

Whether you like it or not.

With a devious smirk painting his lips, the middle-aged man with slicked back platinum blonde hair and cold, hard, bitter icy eyes tells you, “Please, call me Crassus. After all, petal, with as much time as you spend here you're practically a part of the family.”

General Snow's remark went right over your head. You just nodded and simply said, “Okay.”

You honestly didn't think anything of it. If General Snow wanted you to call him Crassus because of all the time you spent around his son, Coriolanus, then so be it.

But Coryo knew that his father had just become, as fucked up as it sounds, his romantic rival for you. As soon as he heard him call you petal he knew, oh he just knew, that his father's lusting after you.

Coriolanus is his father's son after all. Despite being told time and time again by Crassus that he's too much like his mother, too soft and eager for affection- for love. But what Crassus didn't grasp was that Coriolanus didn't just have his father's looks, but his dark tendencies for obsession and over ‘loving’ his intended lover.

And the son just knew that his father was head over heels obsessed with you because, in fact, he was too. Coriolanus saw the way his father looked at you, as if you're a piece of meat ready to be carved and served, and it disgusts him. You belong to the younger Snow, not the older one.

Giving Crassus a cutting look with his icy eyes, Coriolanus announced in a smug baritone, “Father, my darling rose is going to prom with me as my date.” And then he twisted the knife in his father's black, soulless heart by adding in the three simple but damning words of, “As my girl.”

Crassus’ face turned to stone. Of course, you'd agree to go to prom with Coriolanus. The former general's seething with jealousy. He wants you, why does his son get to take you to prom? Ugh, why can't you just go to prom with a group of girls? Go stag, like single girls do. But no…

NO!

You just have to go to prom with Coriolanus. And as his girl too!

Crassus' blood is boiling in his veins. Hearing Coriolanus reveal that he’s made you his girl and is taking you to prom makes him want to tear his son apart limb by limb.

Well, he needs to nip that in the bud.

Perhaps he'll talk to his old, estranged friend Dean Casca Highbottom about being a chaperone at the prom. That way he can keep an eye on you, socialize with you, and keep you from spending the night dancing with his son.

Dancing at prom can lead to other things in hotel rooms after prom. Things that Crassus certainly doesn't want you doing with Coriolanus.

Although Crassus is having an internal meltdown, his appearance stays stern and calm. “I'll make sure your mother has enough money to take you dress shopping.” The middle-aged platinum blonde man assured you.

Cocking his head to the side, Crassus flashes you a savvy smile before looking at his son and giving him a look that rivaled that of Medusa herself. “This door stays open while you two are in here. Only one of you can be on the bed and the other must be at the desk.” Crassus instructed in a stern, authoritarian baritone. “And turn off this music. It's giving me a headache.” He adds in an ordering snap before pivoting on his heel and matching off.

Shaking his head, Coriolanus darkly chuckled, “My father's so pathetic. Having a crush on you.”

“He doesn't have a crush on me, Coryo.” You’re quick to tell your beat friend, writing off his remark as you break your contact with him by sitting up. “He's your father and he's old enough to be mine.” You remind Coryo while making to get off the bed.

Coryo stops you by reaching out and wrapping his hand around your arm. “Just stay on the bed with me. Father’ll never know.” He tells you as you look at him, worrying your lip. But after a few moments, you slowly nod your head and take up your spot nestled into his side once again. “And trust me, from the way he was looking at you, my father likes you.”

“I don't think he does, but if you say so…” You sigh, letting your sentence hang in the air.

But Coryo's right, his father does like you. He likes you a little too much. Just like how his son, your best friend, likes you a little too much.

The million dollar ticket is who’ll snag you up and make you theirs? That's a question only the ancient gods of old know and they're not sharing the answer until the time's right. But until then, father and son will be competing for your heart. A heart that you can only give to one Snow.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[fraudulent-cheese]

where are they 👶

Boy i tell you, when i saw that one of the prompts for gwourtney week was backrooms, i had to make edits for that prompt! There's a little bit of a story to these? It's gwen and courtney making it through the first 5 levels of the backrooms!

@gwourtneyweek2024

[plussizefantasia]

It's Always the Wife

Bucky Barnes x BlackCat!Reader

Chapter 4/6

<Prev / Next>

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: It's the danger part of the story so we've got guns and threats, talks of murder, alcohol, and language.

A/N Not a huge fan of this part but I got to the point where if I kept tweaking it I would go insane so.... here ya go. Part 5 coming this week!

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

How the hell had you missed this? How had you not realized that the lynchpin behind all of this was the wife? It’s always the wife, how could you miss that? 

Fuck Bucky Barnes. You’d bet your whole life savings on this somehow being his fault. If he hadn’t made you go to bed early you could’ve done some more digging and you probably wouldn’t have missed it. It was his fault. It was his stupid worrying and caring about your well-being that got you into this mess. 

“Ms. Longborne, I have to admit, you’re not exactly the first person that comes to mind when I think of a potential investor in our little… business. Didn’t you say that money should be used to help others, why are you interested in making more if you have all you need?” Mrs. Bowman looks you up and down, far more critically than she had when you two had first met when Bucky was at your side. He’s not here now, you’ll have to cover your own ass. 

“Mrs. Bowman I’m sure you’re well aware of the more theatrical part of society, playing the role of the wholesome heiress is good for business that's all.” 

“Dear, I’ve been playing my part for longer than you have and I never once had to lie to people to boost myself up in the world.” She takes a sip from her glass and sends you an all too condescending smile.

Thats bullshit shes not a natural blonde first of all you can see her roots growing out, and secondly, your pretty sure backroom and under-the-table dealing while keeping the facade of a happy and wholesome nuclear family to the American people counts as lying.

“Mrs. Bowman, lying is a bit of a harsh word I don’t think I ever lied to you. I find that when my money goes to charities and the like it makes people less likely to look into the way that I make that money. A small contribution to the commissioner’s wife’s favorite cause and suddenly he’s all the more willing to loom the other way. It's strategic, that’s all.”

“So, that’s what the sizable donation to my charity was, a red herring?” 

“Yes and no,” You take a sip of the whiskey in your glass, and resist the urge to make a face, you have no idea how Bucky drinks this stuff it tastes like disinfectant. “I needed to make sure that I got an invitation and I knew that such a large sum would draw some eyes, it cost a pretty penny but it got me this far didn’t it.”

“That it did, but I have to ask, why did you want to meet my husband so bad?” Mrs. Bowman placed her drink on the table next to her and began sauntering towards me. “I wouldn’t normally feel the need to step in when it comes to deals like this, I prefer to stay in the background I’m sure you understand. But you… Your very presence sends off alarm bells so tell me. Deborah, why shouldn’t I just kill you now and be done with this.”

The gun cocking behind you makes the hair on your neck stand up, you slowly turn and make eye contact with Hunter, a Smith, and Wesson leveled at you. He doesn’t make eye contact.

If you get out of this you’re going to slap the shit out of that metal-armed bastard. Didn’t he say he’d be right behind you?

You take a deep breath, if you show any weakness any hesitence you’ll get a bullet between the eyes. And you aren’t planning on dying today.

“Other than the fact that if I just suddenly go missing it’ll only raise questions? I think you’re bluffing. If you didn’t trust me even if a little bit you wouldn’t have brought me back here and you definitely wouldn’t have let me get a glimpse behind the curtain. If I didn’t know any better I’d say this was a test. And judging by the smirk spreading across Mr. Bowman’s face I think I just passed.” You cock your hip out to the side and rest the arm holding your glass on it. “Am I right? Or can Hunter get on with it and pull the damn trigger already.” 

“I wasn’t sure about you Ms. Longborne but anyone who can look a pistol in the eye and come out on top is someone I want on my side. So… let’s talk business.”

Holy Shit, that was too close, for a moment there you had a glimpse into an entirely different end, one where Bucky hears a gunshot and runs into the room only to see you bleeding out on the carpet, unable to do anything but hold you as life slips between your fingers. You can’t die, not until you tell a lot of people a lot of things. 

You shake your head to pull yourself back into the moment. 

“That’s the thing, Mrs. Bowman-”

“Julie, if we’re going to be partners we have to do away with the formalities now, I don’t deal with kiss-asses.”

“Alright, Julie, I need to know more about this business before I decide on anything. I may not have the most strict of morals but there are some things that even I won’t be involved in.” 

“Smart girl, alright what do you want to know.”

“Hunter let me in on a little bit of the financial aspect, said that you were looking for investors. Is that as far as I’ll go, I give you money and you give me back my returns or will this partnership be a more… involved one.” 

“Investor is a fun word, it implies that you have power. That won’t be the case. See unlike the shareholders of the corporate world I won’t be bowing to your whims, trying to satisfy whatever hold you think you have over me. I’ve worked far too hard to have someone think they can wave a couple thousand dollars around and control me.”

“I'm not in the controlling business Julie, I just want to be sure that my money isn’t going to be going to waste.” 

“So you want to know what’ll happen with your buy-in is that it?”

“Precisely, I don’t need to know all the gory details after all, I’ll need some plausible deniability if this whole thing falls apart after all.”

“Dear, why don’t I explain this part after all, it was my idea.” The governor cuts in, and you almost jump. You had forgotten he was even there, to be honest. 

“Sure, dear.” Julie pats her husband on the arm, her tone that of a mother speaking to a child. 

“Did you know that 8.8% of people in Alabama didn’t have health care as of two years ago? When I was elected I quickly and quietly ran a bill through the Senate and the House that mandated health insurance coverage. It’s now illegal to not have coverage which made a lot of people mad but created a big opening for opportunity. So I came up with an idea, and the best part is that It’s just on the right side of legal, legal enough that is. NexCare LLC; an insurance company entirely on paper, runs through several shell companies, and all the profits are shuffled into offshore accounts but it's mostly legit. And it insures over 25% of Alamaba’s citizens. They pay 24 Dollars a month for ‘complete coverage’,” he puts air quotes around the words and you start to feel the urge to punch his teeth out, “The coverage is just enough to make sure that people are following the law, but just convoluted enough that we don’t actually have to pay out for anything. We have the right to deny all claims yada yada. Essentially, we’ve created a way for the fine people of Alabama to essentially deposit their money right into our pockets.” 

Now you really want to knock this guy the fuck out. If he’s right and this is all on the right side of legal then there really is fuck all that you can do. You can’t arrest the man for owning an insurance company and if he’s crafted the contracts just right so that he doesn’t actually have to shell out for anything then there really isn’t anything you can do.

“Well Mr. Governor, that really is a spark of genius. And it’s all legal?” 

“It’s legal enough, we paid a lot of lawyers a lot of money to make sure of that.” Julie pipes in.

“And nobody knows that you own NexCare? How’d you work that out?” You bat your eyelashes at the man, hoping, praying for him to spill anything that you can use. 

“More legal mambo jumbo, I’m not too sure. Like you said, plausible deniability.”

“So why do you need my money, seems like you're pretty set up?”

“Expansion is expensive and the lawyers are demanding a higher cut in order to keep their mouths shut, this way everyone stays quiet and happy and we get to get more money from more people.”

“I don’t know, if you’ve already got people on the verge of spilling the beans then why would I want to be anywhere near that.” 

“Trust me Ms. Longborne we have ways of keeping people quiet.” 

“I’m going to need a little bit more than that Mr. Governor, I’m too pretty for prison.”

“God, Charles stop beating around the bush, Debrah here can handle some dirty work, can’t you darling?” Julie stepped in. “Being in power has its privilege and with an extra 3,000 a month into the hands of some police captains, we ensure that specific deaths don’t get investigated. That’s all, it’s a small percentage that reaches that point but it has happened.”

You can sure as shit arrest them for that though, bribery and accessory to murder at the very least. With enough digging, you could probably get the captains being bribed too. That wasn’t your job though, leave the digging to the team at Shield and they could do their arrest too for all you care. You just want to get the hell out of here as soon as possible.

“Let me get all this straight, you have a little arrangement with some shady as hell lawyers who are constantly on the verge of turning you in or extorting you and you need my money to keep them quiet so we can all keep charging the good people of Alabama for insurance that they’re legally required to have but will never see a single dime from?” 

Hunter sorts from his position lounging on the old couch behind you, “Pretty much nailed it, I told you guys she was smart.” He nods to his parents.

Julie purses her lips and looks back at you, “She may be smart but she still hasn’t given us an answer.”

“No, I haven’t, and I don’t plan to. At least not tonight. I’ve got some thinking to do but you’ve certainly piqued my interest.”

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what might happen should I hear that you’ve been a little loose-lipped about what we’ve told you.” Julie raises her eyebrows at you. God, you really hate these people.

“No, you don’t. I can assure you word getting out that I was even meeting with you about this would ruin my reputation as much as yours, my lips are sealed.” You sink back the rest of your drink. “But if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been away from my date for a little too long and I’m sure he’s wondering where I am. He’s a worrywart.”

“Well, I look forward to hearing from you.” The governor grabs your hand and shakes it, his grip just a tad too tight to be comfortable.

You don’t say anything after that, just push your way through the doors and sag against the wall once they’re closed. 

“Bucky? Can you still hear me?” 

“Loud and clear Kitty.”

The nickname makes you smile, leave it to Barnes to lift the mood after one of the most tense moments of your life.

“Did we get enough?” 

“The comms recorded the confession and the fact that all three of them are in on it, yeah we got plenty. You did good work.” You nod your head.

“James?”

He just hums.

“I’m ready to go home.”

“Two steps ahead of you.” The voice is all of a sudden much closer, you look up and see him standing over you, holding your coat in one arm and offering the other to help you off the floor. You don’t even remember getting down there.

He pulls you up effortlessly and you stop yourself from crashing into his chest by putting your hand out, it lands on his chest.

He practically pushes you off of him and shoves your coat into your arms. 

“Let’s go.” He doesn’t look to see if you’re following him, he just begins to stride away. 

What the fuck is wrong with him? One moment he’s complimenting you on a job well done and helping you off the floor and the next he’s acting like being too close to you will set him on fire or some shit.

You follow after him nevertheless, you weren’t lying when you said you wanted to go home, and you aren’t going to let Barne’s shitty attitude keep you from doing just that.

Bucky is handing some bills to the valet when you finally catch up to him, the car that the two of you drove here pulls up to the curb you’re standing at. You move to open the door to the passenger side, but before you can get there Bucky already has the handle in his hand and he swings it open for you. He gestures for you to go ahead and you don’t even try to stop the scoff that bubbles up your throat.

You get comfortable in your seat as Bucky walks around the trunk of the car and gets in on his own. He doesn’t buckle just pulls away from the curb quickly.

You don’t like this sense of deja vu, being trapped in a car with James Barnes, neither one of you speaking it’s all too familiar. Except this time, you aren’t uncomfortable, you’re angry, more than angry actually you kinda want to rip off this asshole's metal arm and beat him with it for being a dick. 

Minutes tick by. You don’t speak but you silently fume from the passenger seat. You look over at him a couple of times, you can’t read him. You’ve never really been able to read him and this time is no different. What you wouldn’t get for a glimpse inside his head though.

The car pulls up to a red light, the two of you are bathed in the deep color.

“What the fuck is your problem this time Barnes?”

“I don’t have a problem.” He shrugs.

“Obviously you do or you wouldn’t have acted like my very presence is annoying to you and you wouldn’t be giving me the silent treatment right now.”

“I don’t have a problem.” He insists again.

“Fine. Whatever, when you’re ready to talk to me like a goddamn adult then I’ll be here to listen but if all you’re going to do is ignore me then you can let me out of the car right the fuck now.”

“What?” 

“You heard me, let me out of the goddamn car.”

“I’m not letting you out of the car Y/N! You’re insane.”

“Let me out of the car, or tell me what’s wrong.”

He doesn’t speak, he looks into your eyes and all across your face but he doesn’t say a word.

You nod a solitary nod and reach for the door handle.

“I love you.”

 That stops you cold in your tracks.

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God Inter-chapter lore 5.

(Prev) (Next) (First)

How long has Pearl been in the mortal realm?

Grian might have come and went a few times in human history he was last on Earth in the 19th century. Pearl has made Earth her home and has stayed using the "age your body and then fale your death method to start again" method for centuries... her current identity has been a thing for around 2 to 3 years by the time that Grian comes.

How does Scar do The Hotguy stuff when he needs to use a cane?

A combination of his own power of superspeed, which actually works by strenghtening the muscles in his legs at the expense of a truly MASSIVE energy use, and Cub's power which allows him to reduce the power of gravity on a person or object. Both powers last only a relatively short time before they start failing and need to be recharged which is why Cub is so insistent about Scar not being out over the limit. Also Scar's power overworks the muscles in his legs so he's making his own situation worse everytime he stays out more then he should.

Are Scar, Scott or Cleo secretly gods too?

Nope! There will be other gods in the story eventually but of the character introduced in the story this far only Pearl and Grian are gods.

What is a divine plane?

Planes are like parallel dimensions where a god's domains exist in their purest form, each god has one but how much they stay inside their domain depends on the specific deity. The Nether, End and Aether are planes. The planes are also lightly... Backroom-like, they are very much backroom levels.

The plane of wisdom is an infinite garden with marble columns and fields. There is no direction, you could walk forever in one direction and find yourself still in green hills. There is no sun in the sky but the light of It's 7 glowing moons keeps it bright as if it was daytime. There is a constant light breeze that brings floreal and sugary scents through the air.

The plane of chaos is a place without rules, gravity and density do no matter. There is no ground, just cubes floating in a sea of stars. Steps float creating paths between the cubes and so do objects from various times and places. Stuff that was lost finds itself here and so do things that never where. Living being brought here have a tendency to mutate.

Who was Scott's fiance who was kidnapped by the H.A?

Hmmm...

You can guess.

[caelumroxas]

THEY PUT ME IN THE GAME!!!! | Backrooms Exploration - Part 4

Video's premiering! Watch, like, comment, share, subscribe, and join to help the video in the algorithm!

[nogacheloveka-blog]

The Bad Sanses somehow ended up in the Backrooms. №11

<-Switch to Russian ver.

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This is the translation of the another post from Russian to English. I understand English, but it is very difficult for me to write in English, so I asked chat GPT to help me. I have corrected some parts, but there still may be mistakes.

Okay, I realize I get a strange pleasure from drawing sleeping Sanses. Not the worst fetish ¯\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_/¯.

I like to think of Nightmer and Dream as the "Deity of Negative Emotions" and the "Deity of Positive Emotions." Why not?

For this part, I decided to create a MindMap and input all the information I hold in my head for each of the characters. Wow, turns out I've been forgetting so much about my boys all this time. For example, I constantly confused the sleeve where Killer's thread from Error is attached (it should be on the right sleeve, not the left). In addition, I've started to better understand the characters' personalities and my canon in which I make them live.

In this part, I decided to experiment with describing events from different perspectives (I left notes in the form of emojis). =)

Caution: there is a description of injuries involving Nightmer (🌙).

I often listen to playlists while working on parts, hope you enjoy this one :)

Having avoided a fight with people, the group continued on until they found a place where Error could safely exit his reboot. It turned out to be a break room for employees, complete with a water cooler. Someone had taken and carried away the water container, likely individuals from the nearby settlement. This was a good sign as it meant that people wouldn't be exploring this area anytime soon.

The office plants had stretched towards the lamps and withered. Otherwise, this room resembled a small, ransacked cafeteria: all the kitchen cabinets were open, appliances either broken or stolen, spices scattered on the floor (Horror shook his head disapprovingly). However, there were still tables, chairs, and a comfortable couch.

🌙 As the Destroyer's loading bar slowly crawled from 50% to 58%, Nightmare decided to try drinking Almond Water. There was a chance it could help with the issues he had discovered in his mind before. He took the closed tin can in his hands and opened it. A quiet splash was heard. The subtle almond scent, which now constantly surrounded his subordinates, hit his receptors. The thin metal felt cool in his hands. He didn't feel anything strange, and even the Check didn't report anything alarming.

But as the liquid poured into his mouth, he screamed from the unexpected pain. It was awful. As if boiling acid had been poured into an open wound. Like the pain from Dream's arrows. His mind clouded so much that he couldn't even spit out the liquid - it sizzled down his chin onto his chest. The shroud of negativity on him boiled in response to the damage and anger (despair), causing the outlines of his body to blur, as if wax on a candle. The shroud around his jaws dissolved and flowed to his feet in a black, smoking puddle. The bones of the former (deceased) Nightmare's skull were briefly exposed but quickly concealed by a new layer of darkness.

In a desperate attempt to prevent the liquid from burning him further, the Guardian transformed into a pool of negativity and recoiled to the side. The Almond Water can spilled onto the floor.

-15 HP

It didn't feel like "-15 HP". It felt like the damn breath of agonizing death. It was a good thing he hadn't swallowed it. He didn't want to imagine something with a sweet nutty scent searing his insides. "-15 HP" seemed like a joke to his huge health pool, but he didn't want to experience something like that again. The phantom flashes of pain in his mouth faded as the lost HP slowly regenerated. His subordinates looked at him in shock, and their horror aided in the regeneration.

It seemed like something in this place could easily kill him. He felt as if the dimension-killer hungrily licked its lips.

The most essential thing in this place could maim him. Perhaps the most common. The one that needed to be consumed to keep the mind clear. The item that was simply indispensable for the group. That which...

Nightmare pulled himself together.

He was the spirit (almost a god) of negative emotions. He would handle this annoying inconvenience.

⛔By the time Error woke up with the sound of Windows XP, Nightmare was sitting nearby as if nothing had happened. The others glanced cautiously in their direction, but for some reason, remained silent. (Are they hiding something?) The Destroyer looked slightly confused, as if he had fallen asleep at the beginning of the movie and woken up closer to the end. His last memory was parting ways with the Temmie shop. Nightmare, sitting next to him, calmly mentioned that they had encountered people. (Error didn't inquire about injuries, seeing a black puddle on the floor. Nightmare looked fine, as did the others, so nothing serious seemed to have happened).

Error hated his reboots. But sometimes they saved him from truly horrible (thoughts) things. For example, from injuries and wounds. But it was infuriating that a bunch of people had brought him to this point. As if Error couldn't kick meat sacks' asses anymore.

Usually after such emotional shocks, he would visit the "Disgusting #13" fridge and settle in to watch Undernovelle. But opening portals in this place was impossible. So...

Wait. The Destroyer turned his gaze to Horror. He unexpectedly remembered something. Something about what this guy carried in his inventory. Greasy Marshmallow. He recalled that the recommendations mentioned something about a chocolate flavor. If that was the case, it was worth trying his luck and preparing this thing. Especially since he saw blurry (no, he won't get his glasses) outlines of pepper shakers nearby. The Destroyer wasn't skilled in cooking food, so he menacingly moved towards Horror.

🦴 Dust was concerned about what had happened. At first, Nightmare drove people away, although he ordered them not to engage in combat and to survey the area. Then, for some reason, Error took a long time to come out of reboot. It was crystal clear that something serious had occurred, prompting Nightmare to change his plans so drastically. And Nightmare doesn't do that without a significant reason. But what happened to Error? Did they quarrel? Will Error leave now? Dust pulled up his hood, and anxiety crawled down his neck like a swarm of insects.

Then it turns out that water, which they all carry with them, can harm their boss. The water they MUST carry with them to stay sane. This could be a problem. Damn, it already is.

He clenched his hands in the pockets of his hoodie so tightly that he felt one of the ballpoint pens he had there snap. Dust took a deep breath and tried to calm down as Nightmare had taught him. The boss had taught him many techniques to reduce anxiety.

A white butterfly fluttered past his face. He constantly felt the tickle of moths following behind him. They were various butterflies and moths that flocked to him as they roamed Level 4. For some reason, he didn't feel the usual irritation from this. Dust assumed it was because of the Strange Amulet Horror had given him. This phenomenon began precisely when Dust equipped it. Just in case, he made a note in the margins of his notebook:

"I feel like because of the Strange Amulet, I've started to love insects. Almond Water is dangerous for Nightmare."

Dust began to understand why the notes in the notebook were disjointed. Recording troubling thoughts somehow freed him from them.

⚔️ Cross volunteered to scout the area so they could proceed safely. Horror wanted to go with him as usual, but Error pulled Horror aside to cook something. Before arriving in this place, they often did reconnaissance together with the big skeleton. They got along well, so the familiar sense of the imposing figure's presence behind Cross would reassure him. Especially after the recent events.

Yes, the "injury from water" and "Nightmare" seemed like a strange combination, but Nightmare controlled his emotions and, in Cross's view, might not be at risk of losing his mind. At least, that seemed logical. After all, fish don't drown in water, right?

"That's true, Crossy. But what about Almond Water?" joked Killer, who went with him instead of Horror. He twirled a knife in his hands, and his frozen smirk made one feel uneasy.

Cross didn't reply. He didn't particularly enjoy being around Killer. He always felt like the skeleton with a knife might attack out of boredom and made sure not to lose sight of him.

After a few rooms, they found a stairwell with torn wallpaper and a creaky staircase. It resembled the description of the passage to Level 5. They needed to return and inform the others of their discovery.

🔪 Killer was pleased. The boss's food poisoning was certainly dreadful, as was Error's figure hidden in mistakes, as was the agitated Dust, as... Well, much in this place was dreadful. Probably. Killer wasn't sure exactly. He struggled with identifying emotions. But he definitely enjoyed the whirlwind of events. He knew he felt a chill at the sight of pain on Nightmares face. He knew he felt inspired when Horror and Error started making marshmallows using the heating element that was still in the office cooler (The prepared Greasy Marshmallow resembled sweet thick cocoa with vanilla and cinnamon). He also knew for sure that he WOULDN'T use the Temmie Flake popper near Nightmare. (Perhaps he could use the Flowey Seed popper instead? It was worth exploring this question.) And he was definitely very curious to see what awaited them next.

The new level that he and Cross led the group to also pleased him in many ways: there were more items, more different textures and materials. It seemed he even saw a cat, but couldn't catch up with it. Much of Level 5 reminded him of the castle where they had all lived before. Soft chairs and sofas, subdued lighting, and eerie portraits.

Ah, almost like home.

🪓 The district was clean. Horror sensed faint human smells on the furniture, in the rooms, noticed inappropriate litter for the setting. Thanks to their stop at Temmie's, he knew that people visited this hotel quite often, even rented rooms. And this kept him on edge.

The people they encountered on Level 4 puzzled him. He managed to Check one discreetly as he pushed forward in the hustle. Their stat block had no parameters, including the HOPE indicator. It wasn't hidden or inaccessible. It simply wasn't there. The description was unusually brief "...".

Earlier, while they were still in the rest area on Level 4, Error asked (ordered) Horror to retrieve the Greasy Marshmallow from the inventory. Considering he could have just hacked the code and stolen the item, it was quite polite. Horror even dared to set a condition: if they cook, they cook for everyone. Error agreed. While they were cooking with the Destroyer, Horror shared his observations about people with him. Error shrugged irritably.

"What doesn't have a health bar is hard to kill. If what you're saying is true, it will be like fighting a ghost," he replied briefly.

It was good they didn't engage in battle. Horror hated fighting ghosts. They were exhausting. During it, one felt like giving up.

In the end, the group had to stop for the night. Nightmare stayed on guard. He had to forcibly restrain Killer from attempting something foolish, and Killer quickly fell asleep.

It had been a very long day.

Nightmare belongs to Jokublog Killer belongs to RahafWabas Dust belongs to Ask-DustTale Horror belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios Error belongs to CrayonQueen Cross belongs to JakeiArtwork

[normal-with-adhd-is-a-joke]

Went out today and realized my wheelchair was only at 30%. No problem, I was headed to urgent care where I would likely wait for a while, then to target where there would probably be an outlet of some kind. Chair charged up to 60% at urgent care, problem solved. I happily went off to my other destinations. I went to a nice ramen restaurant, charged a little at Target, had a fiasco trying to get the last 30¢ for my bus ticket home, and by the time I was out the door my chair was flashing red on battery, meaning it was almost done for the day. I was getting on the bus at this point. No biggy. Got on and off with no trouble.

So now I'm on what I can only describe as "if the backrooms were a road". It's a standard city alley, in the dark, identifying features are sparse and I keep thinking the next brick blocky house is going to be mine, but it's not. My wheelchair completely cuts out. I try turning it off and back on. Nothing. That thing is dead. I check my phone for directions and I've been going the wrong was for several minutes. So I turn my wheelchair around and start pushing it. The manufacturer says this chair is 350lbs, it's on wheels so at least the friction is reduced but I still have to lean my whole weight against it to get it to move. If I had less weight to push with I think I would have been truly stuck. I proceeded like this for the longest 5-10 minutes of my life. This might seem like a moderately difficult task, but keep in mind that I am an ambulatory power chair user with chronic fatigue syndrome. Walking around my kitchen to make a homemade meal puts me in bed some days. I got my chair to the end of my ramp where I was able to thread the charger through my window and now it's charging so I can get it up the ramp.

I feel like Hercules and I think I'm probably not going to be able to walk unassisted tomorrow. I was feeling lately like my illness hadn't gotten better at all in the past 4 years and I was doomed to be the same level of active (not active at all) forever, I guess this proves that I actually am getting better by resting.