#cause it has been happening forever now.... Here in the states they called it 'Revenge Porn'

[queenoftsage]

Knowing that shit like that is happening even more and more and more since the previous years in South Korea, makes me even more and more weary or anxious even fearful of seeing even their celebrities.

I try my hardest to give benefits of doubts, but... When almost 50% of the male population in SK, especially the younger ones, the tiny middle schoolers, literal children, are committing such heinous crimes just because they claim not to know any better, and because they can.

It makes me anxious to not know my faves at all. [personally I mean. And even if I did, I probably would never know them or the bad side of them. Not like people go around showing their dark side, unless they're in the government positions and are Elon Musket Piece of Shit.]

They're just faves, but... What will happen the day I find out that they're also perpetrators and psychos?

It's disappointing.... The world....

I'm tired of it.

But here is the happening that shook me quite a bit. And yeah it's coming from South Korea: [not that I wasn't, but this just made me lose even more hope. TW: Sexual Assault TW: Sexual Harrassment TW: Abuse TW: Sex Crimes TW: all the fucked up things.]

[roseenhance3890]

Sacrificial

It was 11:30 am on a Friday afternoon and you were just chilling out in your apartment, relishing the fact that for once you had a day off to yourself and you could relax for the first time in forever. As you laid on your bed your mind began to wander to the thought of your boyfriend and what he could be doing now. You two had talked earlier that morning, catching up about each other and what the brothers had been getting up to. You smiled when you remembered that call and the sweet words of affection you two shared when suddenly a loud knock at your front door pulled you out of your state, forcing you out of your bed just to answer. “Hello? Who is it?” You called out and in response you heard the faint sound of an elderly man respond. “Hello child! I am part of a local group and I was hoping to have a moment of your time!” He cheerfully called out to you. As you opened the door to kindly tell the man that you weren't interested two large men wearing robes and religious symbols. “W-What the hell!? Let me go!” You cried out, fearful of what these people would do to you. The two men then pulled you aside, allowing more people into your house. You watched as these people ransacked your home and destroyed everything all while praising some sort of god. One of them then grabbed a bottle of gasoline and began to douse the place with it, your eyes widened in horror and you could only scream as the people continued to destroy your home. “NO PLEASE STOP-” You had screamed but was abruptly silenced with a harsh slap across your face. “SILENCE! YOU HAVE COMMITED THE SIN OF FORNICATING WITH A DEMON!” The elderly man whom you presumed was the leader in this yelled. He then continued, “Your sins will surely not go unpunished and clearly you are a temptress sent here by the devil himself to damn us all to hell!” He roared, pointing his long wrinkled finger at you. You inhaled sharply and could only watch as more people came and trashed your home. You felt your pact marks burn as your fear grew, they could sense you were in trouble and were ready to be summoned. You then looked up to the leader and instead of summoning them you gave this man before you a warning. “If you don't stop this and get the hell out of my property he will come for you. He'll kill you all!” You screamed with tears forming in your eyes, blurring your vision and causing your eyes to sting. “HA! You think we will believe your lies?! You dare threaten us?!” He yelled in response before slapping you across the face again. You were then dragged away from your wrecked home and towards the centre of town where you saw a large wooden pole, surrounding it were dozens of people, all wearing the same robes as your captors. You were then hoisted up and tied to the wooden pole, displayed for everyone to witness and torment. As the crowd began to torture you relentlessly you could only cry and beg for them to stop, warning them of your lovers rage and revenge he would surely have for you. “Please stop! I didn't do anything wrong!” You had tried to reason with them yet when you saw a camera crew filming the entire thing you knew they weren’t going to stop. Your wails of agony reached far yet it seemed to urge the crowd to continue their torture on you and after hours upon hours of torment someone approached you with a torch in hand. Your eyes widened in horror and you knew what would happen next… With tears in your eyes you looked up to the sky and a bittersweet smile graced your features as you recalled your life. You then looked down at the people who began to sing and cheer at your inevitable fate and as the flames began to burn your flesh your cries and whimpers turned into blood curdling screams as you felt the fire consume your body. You knew this was the end for you…yet you couldn’t possibly let more people possibly suffer at the hands of these monsters. And so, with the last of your strength you finally summoned him… “I summon you….” Continuation:

[melishade]

More Black Panther: Wakanda Forever Shit with spoilers (Because this has officially consumed me). Part 1 of my thoughts are here and now let’s get into Namor. Because a lot of Namor’s actions, were out defense, or an action of an outside force.

I have a vague idea that Namor was some sort of anti-hero in the Marvel Comics, but I didn’t know much else about him. But Ryan Coogler has so far made antagonists in the MCU more...sympathetic. Or at least someone that has a point. I mean it was because of Killmonger that T’Challa decided to open Wakanda to the rest of the world. A villain ended up influencing a hero’s decision by the end of the movie.

But besides that, Ryan Coogler’s framing of Namor is really brilliant because Namor’s actions are out of defense and/or are justified.

When Namor returns to the surface to bury his mother in her homeland, only to find it desecrated, people that look like him enslaved and beaten, and the slave masters calling him demon, he responds by burning everything up there to the ground and preparing for the day of a possible invasion from those same people.

When T’Challa reveals Wakanda to the rest of the world, causing other countries to scramble and try to find Wakanda under the sea, Namor responds by killing everyone that attempts and tries. It might seem cruel, but if a single person on that vessel at the beginning of the movie, made it out and said that there are blue people in the water, his kingdom would have been discovered, and his people would be in danger. He has no choice but to make sure that there are no witnesses. 

T’Challa’s actions are also why Namor decides to approach Ramonda and Shuri after the attack. He’s probably thinking: even if it was an accident, Wakanda put my people in danger. You can help rectify that mistake by bringing me the scientist who helped with creating a machine to find vibranium, so that I may kill them and keep my people safe.

Then Shuri decides to go to Talokan willingly, and Namor responds by showing her the kingdom, and even explaining his backstory, and why he is doing what he is doing. Shuri’s actions are ones that show Namor that she is willing to understand. She wants to find a peaceful way. She wants to know why. Namor even states that he was blinded by hope when addressing his people about Shuri’s escape. He saw Shuri’s actions and responded with hope.

And even though the attack on Wakanda was devastating, and the loss of Ramonda has caused a pathway of anger and revenge for Shuri, it was a valid response from Namor. Think about it this way: Ramonda tricked Namor. Ramonda took Namor away from Talokan so Nakia could break Shuri and Riri out of prison, resulting in the death of two of his subjects. Who as far as we know, were innocent, especially since one of them responded in horror to Nakia when she killed one of their own. Even if Namor was aware that Shuri didn’t want this to happen and was under the assumption that Shuri had no part to play, her mother created a plan that compromised his people and got two innocent people killed. So he responds by invading Wakanda and taking Ramonda’s life. Her death was repayment for the lives that her plan had taken.

And when we get to the part where Shuri is completely ready to end Namor, she chooses mercy. She tells him to yield and they will create and alliance. Namor responds by yielding to Shuri. He knows for a fact that Shuri has not forgiven him for his actions. He knows that it’s because she feels empathy for his people, and that Wakanda has no allies. The world wants their resources. The only people Wakanda can trust, is a kingdom that is exactly like them.

So again, many of Namor’s actions were acts of defense to what was going on around him, and he was thinking of the benefit and safety of his people. I am really happy that Namor is alive by the end of this, because he is a really compelling character. Can’t wait to see him further in the MCU. Also, Tenoch Huerta did a phenomenal job as Namor.

(So tomorrow, I’m going to talk about the ancestral plane scene and You-know-who if you’ve seen the movie already).

[cazimagines]

Never break the chain

Synopsis: You were Zemo’s devoted girlfriend, he would take you all over the world and treat you to everything you want in life however that all changed the day Sokiva fell. Consumed by anger Zemo went off the deep end trying to avenge his fallen country and you last saw him being escorted to prison. Years later you became really ill and there was only one thing that could save you. After a lot of searching you finally managed to get your hands on some super soldier serum which saved you however Zemo is now out of prison as is determined to finish what he started no matter what stood in his way.

Warnings/Tags: Bad Zemo, Mentions of guns, Toxic relationship, Almost cried while writing this, Hits in the feelings, Lots of angst, So much angst, Mentions of death

Word count: 1.7k

Author’s note: Hello my fellow masochists *cough* Markiplier *cough*, I for one thrive on sad moments in fics, ones that break my heart. I live off angst and I am sure I am not the only one in this so I have written this angsty Zemo fic. There is no fluff here just sadness so you have been warned. I’m going to write a really sweet and fluff filled one shot after this as an apology. Also warning this relationship is toxic so like obviously I don’t condone Zemo’s behaviour in this, he’s meant to be a dick here.

I got inspired to write this from a song so like if you want extra emotions listen to this: https://youtu.be/1A8YpV1tfsQ

This is also being posted on my ao3 account under the name Casmad

The wind blew sharply against you, the coldness of it scratching your skin. Your eyes water up slightly at the harshness of it and you wrap your arms around your body trying to warm yourself up. You looked out over the cliff, looking over now the deserted area you once called home. Sokovia. Its beautiful landscape is broken and torn apart. An echo of how magnificent it once was. You raise your hand to touch the chain that hung around your neck. A reminder of the past.

“Darling I would be honored if you wore this for me. I have a similar one I’ll always keep around my neck so that even when we are apart, there’s a part of us that will always be together” Zemo asks nervously, swallowing and glancing from the necklace in his hand to your face.

You put your hands onto his, taking the necklace, “I’ll never take it off”

Zemo’s face broke out into a smile, his eyes shining as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. He holds you closely as you close your eyes melting into his presence. He kisses the top of your forehead and rests the top of his head on yours. “My beautiful moon” he murmurs

A tear slowly slipped down your cheek as you thought back to better times. You had been so happy with him. You two had planned your whole lives out together. The Baron and Baroness.

“Would you care to accompany me to the ball?” Zemo asks, holding his arm out to you.

“Oh I don’t know should I?” you joke, holding your chin in your hand as if questioning it, making Zemo chuckle.

“If you do I promise you can be in charge in the bedroom tonight,” he says as he leans into you. You grin back at him, raising your hand to his suit jacket and pulling him towards you for a kiss. As you feel his lips on yours and his hand rests on your hip you smile into the kiss. As you pull back you swell with happiness seeing a rosy tint to Zemo’s cheeks.

“I suppose turning up to to a ball on the arm of a Baron has its perks”

Zemo laughs and pulls you into a side hug placing a kiss on your temple.

“What would I do without you” he hums to himself as he admires you “My moon”

Everything made sense, everything fit. You couldn’t imagine a life any different till it happened.

You and Zemo had been away visiting a local country when you heard of the news. You collapsed on the floor screaming at the tv as Zemo was on the phone already organizing a trip back home. When you arrived your heart broke seeing all the destruction. Zemo was holding your hand but he let go. It was all gone. Everything. Your whole life had changed just like that.

You wipe the tears away from your cheeks yet they continue to flow as you remembered what happened after. The madness and desire for revenge had consumed Zemo. You tried to stop him. You really did but what could you have done?

“Helmut, please. This isn’t healthy...this...this isn’t you!” you cried as Zemo was preparing his attack on the avengers

“Y/n I have to do this. There is no other way” he angrily replied, refusing to look at you.

“I can’t support this” you whisper, grabbing a hold of his arm. “I can’t watch you do this”

Zemo looks at you, his face forlorn as he watches the tears fall from your eyes. He pulls you to his chest wrapping his arm around you and kisses the top of your head, stroking your hair. “I’m not asking you to moon”

You leave the warmth of his arms and watch as he grabs his bags and walks out of your room, giving you one last glimpse of goodbye before he walks out of your life.

That was the last time you saw him in person. The next time it was on the news as he was being arrested. In the end, his plan had succeeded. He split up the avengers but then what? It didn’t bring anyone back. Sokovia was still dead and you were left behind while he was locked up for life.

You close your eyes, squeezing out the remains of your tears, preparing to leave this cliff looking over your deserted town when you hear the sound of a click. You let in a sharp breath of recognition. Slowly turning around your eyes adjust to the barrow of a gun and the person standing behind it.

Zemo.

He still looked the same as you remembered. Though if you stared closely you could see lines showing his age starting to appear, the bags under his eyes were bigger than what they once were however after all this time it was still him. He even wore that ridiculously over-the-top coat that you always stole from him.

His eyes however were different, when you always looked into them in the past they seemed warm, like the feeling of drinking hot chocolate. You could melt in them but now they were stone cold. Emotionless. Like he wasn’t even there.

“Zemo…” you breathed out focusing on him

“I planned to eliminate all superheroes” he states

You shake your head at him, “Zemo please”

“I’ve almost completed my plan to rid the world of superheroes, of ‘super soldiers’”

“Please let me explain,” you say starting to take a step forward to him but he quickly raises his other hand grasping the gun, holding it in both hands now and pointing it at you making you stop in your tracks.

“How could you,” he spits, his lips drawing back in a snarl “How could you become one of them!”

“I had no choice” You rasp, tears starting to flow from your eyes again, “I would have died otherwise”

“THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED THAN TAKEN IT” Zemo shouts

The colour drains from your face, your eyes widen in shock staring at him. His jaw tightens as he glares at you. You both stand there in silence taking in what he had said.

Wiping the side of your tear-stained cheek you smile sadly at him, sniffing, you step forward again resting your forehead against the gun.

“Okay” you simply say, your throat feeling like sandpaper as you utter those words

Zemo glares at you, his finger resting on the trigger. The gun starts to shake as he clenches his face in anger.

“DAM IT” he shouts, throwing the gun to the side. His hands grab onto your shoulders roughly, causing you to hiss in pain.

“Why are you doing this to me y/n. How could you do this to me” He snaps.

You were too shocked to reply to him, causing him to get even angrier. His eyes swarmed with tears and when one threatened to fall he pushed you back and turned away so you wouldn’t see.

You shakily let out a breath you were holding in and collapsed onto your knees. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest and you clenched the sides of your body with your arms in comfort.

Zemo turns back around to you, hatred in his eyes. “I’ve come so far, killing so many just to be stopped here”

“Because you refuse to kill the woman you love” you implored in hope but he shakes his head, “No. Not that”

“Yes, yes that Zemo!” you say shakily getting back up off the ground. “Zemo I still love you though by gods I shouldn’t. We made a promise to each other” you affirmed holding up the chain around your neck, “We were forever Zemo”

Zemo’s finger brushed up against the chain that had been hanging around his neck for the past seven years. They wrap around the chain and in one swift motion, he pulls it off his neck, breaking the chain and throwing it to the ground.

You stare at the broken chain on the floor, your heart dropping. In just one notion it was like all those moments you two spent together were worth nothing. It had led to nothing.

Zemo grabs ahold of your chain and pulls you closer to him, “The truth is, my darling moon, that you don’t love me either”

You try to argue back to him but he raises his finger to your lips, “ah”

“You want to know how I know?”

You don’t say anything, staring at him confused, he leans towards you and automatically you close your eyes however he instead he puts his lips to your ears,

“You’ve been calling me Zemo instead of Helmut”

He lets go of the chain, pushing you away from him again, the force knocking you to the ground.

You think back over your conversation. He was right. When had you started referring him to his last name rather than his first name? You had always called him by his first name before.

You look back up to him, your eyes watering and noticing the tears starting to fall from his eyes.

“I spent years in that prison imaging what it would be like to finally get out. To hold you in my arms once again. To have what we once had. It was the only thing that kept me going in there. You can’t even begin to imagine the pain I felt when I found out the truth. The pain of your betrayal. I hated you. I...I” his voice cracked as he started to cry more

He keeps trying to stop letting out a sob yet his mouth can’t help but frown and his face contorted. “I thought I could stop the pain by getting rid of you but I can’t. Even though I can’t stand looking at you I can’t kill you”

He swallows and looks away from you to the chain on the ground, “I don’t want to ever see you again.”

You could have said something then. Called out to him. Spoke sense to him. He might have even listened but you didn’t. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t try to stop him. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

He turns his back and starts to walk away but stops for a moment, turning his head slightly.

“Goodbye y/n”

[lastxviolet]

Madripoor is for Lovers (Zemo x F!Reader) - Ch. 3

Summary: Y/N is a SWORD agent recruited to help Sam and Bucky track down Karli and the super-soldiers. When Helmut Zemo joins the team, he takes a special interest in her. The friendly union is wrought for disaster, but then things take a turn for the worst when Y/N is taken as collateral. Will Zemo keep her forever? Does she even want to escape? And what happened in Madripoor that made the whole thing so complicated?

Warnings: 18+ / smut / oral sex / f receiving

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32878015/chapters/81589774

The hypnotic bass and Zemo's enthusiastic dance moves almost got you carried away. But over the bouncing crowd, you saw Sharon, Bucky, and Sam on the stairs, looking for you.

“Shit,” you mumbled, breaking the trance. “We gotta go.”

Zemo followed your line of sight and turned to lead you back to the group in silence. You try to hide the disappointment on your face.

“We found him,” Sharon yelled over the music upon your approach.

The five of you went over the plan for tomorrow back in Sharon’s suite. You doubted that even with your experience, you could’ve found Dr. Nagel without Sharon's help. In the states, it was easy to pick a needle out of a haystack, because you always knew what you were looking for. But here, everyone was a criminal. Uncharted territory where you had to find the sharpest needle amongst thousands.

“You good?”

Sam’s voice cut through your thoughts. You looked up and noticed the dissipating group. Sharon showed Bucky to his room, and Zemo sat with his eyes glued to a book on the couch. Only Sam remained standing in front of you, looking like he was about to pass out.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “Go get some sleep. You look terrible.”

He chuckled and nodded in agreement. “We gotta get the hell out of here. Madripoor has aged me at least ten years.”

“Me too. I miss places where being a criminal makes you the odd one out, not the other way around.”

“Goody two-shoes,” he teased before turning to find his room.

Sharon waved him on from down the hall and they got back into it about her pardon and what she’d missed in the states.

Your attention shifted to the only other person in the room. Zemo’s eyes wasted no time abandoning his book and landing on you as soon as you were alone.

“The Odyssey,” you asked, pointing to his book. “I didn’t take you for someone who enjoys fiction.”

He smiled at the attention and made room for you on the couch.

“I often find that there are elements of truth in every fantasy. The human spirit is sometimes better examined by poets than by professors. This, for instance, is a brilliant study on heroes.”

“Hmm, studying heroes? An attempt to know thy enemy?”

He laughed and turned to you with his elbow up on the back of the couch, bringing him less than a foot away from your face. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the lights down the hall go out. There were no interruptions, or easy outs, now. All that was left was you, and the only man who’d ever made you truly nervous.

“Y/N, if you were in Odysseus’s place, content and immortal, would you give it up to go back home?”

“You’re asking me if I’d abandon my legacy and family to shack up on an island with some mistress?”

He chuckled and nodded in approval. “Very wise. But what does he gain by leaving? Struggle? Hardship? Mortality?”

You tilted your head to match his. “Are you telling me that you’d stay on the island?”

His expression shifted for the first time since you’d stepped foot in Madripoor. The overconfident, smirking Baron dissolved into a man.

A man who hid the sense of riotousness that he carried with dramatic flair. A man whose charm and wit seemed fabricated.

This man now, fighting off sleepy eyes and grappling with the moral quandary posed, seemed burdened. You wondered if his quest for justice would ever get to be too much. After all the destruction he’d caused, could he still see himself as the exactor of fairness? Were the Avengers still his enemy? Were you?

“No,” he confessed looking down at the copy in his hands.

Your lips twitched but you didn’t smile. “You’d make the hard choice — the hero’s choice if it came down to it.”

He looked almost somber at your words and nodded.

“In another life…perhaps.”

His voice wavered, almost as if he regretted saying it out loud. The briefing that Sam and Bucky had given you about him flashed in your mind.

A hero's choice was the right thing to do; the hard thing to do. You knew that he was a soldier before everything happened. Just like you.

Was that not a hero’s choice?

He tore the Avengers apart in an attempt to stitch up his own heart. An eye for an eye. Avenging his country because its destruction had been glossed over by the world. His loss fueled his anger but he was more capable than most. A man without armor, or mystical abilities was able to wreak havoc on those who had wronged him.

Was that heroism?

If losing those you love didn’t permit revenge, you weren't sure what did.

He broke the silence by tapping his knuckle on the book.

“It is the perfect testament to the valiance of heroes,” he continued. "But, I must say that the wisest thing Odysseus did was marry his wife.”

You laughed and nodded, remembering how she saved the day. Without her, Odysseus’s homecoming would’ve been much more perilous for him.

“I often find that behind every great man is an even better woman.”

He smirked and didn’t miss a beat. “Like you with…your Avengers.”

“I stand beside them,” you corrected.

He raised an eyebrow and waved a hand. “Semantics."

You gave him an eye roll in return.

He smiled then, wider than you had ever seen. It almost made him seem shy. Perhaps it was because he was making a genuine point, masked in humor.

You were well aware of your importance to this mission and yet burdened by the fact that it didn’t make you a member of their special club. When this was all over, you wouldn’t be an Avenger, or anywhere close. You’d go back to S.W.O.R.D to wait until called upon again. It hadn’t occurred to you before, but there was a pang of sadness there where the thought rested. It’d be a mistake to let Zemo know but it seemed to be too late.

“You’re making fun of me.”

His hand brushed yours. “No. I am merely expressing my concerns about your allegiances.”

Still aware of the small amount of alcohol left in your system, you looked away from his quirked moving lips.

“Enlighten me, Baron. What wrong decisions do you think I’m making?”

Frozen in place, you let him brush his fingers along your wrist to your arm. He took his time, tracing patterns on your skin and inspecting his work with an unwavering gaze. Only when his thumb caressed your cheek, and his hand landed on your neck did he look you in the eyes again. The air in your lungs was gone and your body betrayed you with a furious eruption of butterflies.

“Living a hero’s life,” he said somber-eyed and serious.

Your heart rate quickened. As if you’d learned nothing in S.W.O.R.D about manipulation, you were back to watching his lips. They parted slightly, as if he had something else to say but thought better of it.

A hero.

You didn't feel like one.

A sidekick, maybe. But even then, no one knew your name. No one sang your praises at home or breathed a sigh of relief knowing you were out there in the world fighting evil. It seemed that the only one who thought of you as more than an assistant was Zemo.

Your heart felt heavy then. The two of you were impossible. An inconceivable pair brought together by chance.

But that didn’t make his dark eyes any less enticing or his words any less intoxicating.

That didn’t make you any further from his lips.

He was a breath away, but so was your own destruction.

In another life, the island might tempt you.

“Look,” you said glancing past him to find something to change the subject. “It’s a full moon.”

Without sparing him another glance, you crossed the floor in four quick steps to the large windows. Never one to give up easily, you heard him follow close behind.

He beat you there and pushed open the glass door before gesturing towards the balcony in silence.

You looked down at your feet until the skyline drew your eyes. The plan to diffuse the tension had not worked in the slightest. The moonlit balcony overlooking the beautiful city had only made it worse.

You heard him stop a few feet from you and then settle on the lone armchair. The reality of the situation hit you like a train. Away from the windows, you had privacy. This high up no one would see you and everyone else was in bed. You'd meant to creep out of the lion's den but instead, you'd locked yourself in.

“The moon is a friend for the lonesome to talk to,” Zemo mused from behind you.

“Carl Sanburg,” you confirmed, so he knew you didn't think he'd made it up.

Both of you were silent then. Swaying in the tension you'd built. Sanity pulling you back inside, inexplicable hope keeping you planted in place.

“Are you lonely, Baron?”

The words fell from your lips more delicate and intimate than you had meant them to. You let slip that you cared about his answer. That you might even care to cure him of the ailment.

“Me? No.”

You turned and scoffed.

“Liar. You were in a cell for years and you hardly talk to anyone now that you’re out.”

He leaned back in the chair, arms on either rest and a leg crossed with the ankle of his right knee. His demeanor was harmless in the same way that a predator poised to pounce was. Elegant, still, and ready for the kill.

“Not true,” he corrected. “I talk to you.”

“One person isn’t enough,” you said, taking a step closer.

Were you walking into disaster? Or being pulled? You couldn't tell the difference between his seduction and your own reckless desires any longer.

“The right person though…can be,” he half-whispered. “And you, Y/N, are more than I deserve.”

He gazed up at you from the chair. Kings throughout history, in war-won golden thrones and elegant capes, paled in comparisons to how regal he looked. Anointed with a crown of moonlight, ruling over whomever he pleased.

Your eyes widened with the admission. “Baron — ”

“Helmut, please.” He stood then and met you near the railing, his hand grazing your hip. “Only if for tonight.”

You shook your head, knowing this was a bad idea. His hand made its way to your waist regardless. He pulled you against his chest before searching your eyes for any signal that you were going to run. You knew he’d find nothing. You knew you mirrored his look of lust with blown pupils and flushed cheeks.

“Have I gone too far,” he whispered, bringing his other hand to brush loose hair behind your ear.

“No,” you sighed, letting him pull you closer and brush his lips to your cheek and jaw.

“Tell me if I do,” he whispered again before finally capturing your lips with his.

You uttered no complaints as his tentative kiss turned bruising and possessive. His arms wound around your waist, crushing you into him. But you needed to feel closer. He grunted as you sprung to action, flinging your arms around his neck, deepening the desperate kiss. He tasted like whiskey and something sweet. A cool breeze brushed against the exposed parts of your body. You let your hands wander beneath his coat, chasing warmth and proximity. He let you do as you please, only insisting that his lips stayed on yours.

You let out a whimper as his hand explored the front of your dress. He stopped to press his warm hand against your breast, before holding your face.

It was then that he pulled away, steadying your searching lips with a grip on your chin.

“Ich esse nicht,” he sighed, kissing a pattern to your ear. “Ich schlafe nicht, ich tue nichts anderes, als an dich zu denken.”

His teeth grazed your pulse point, leaving you gasping for air.

“I don’t speak German,” you managed to stutter out.

A hand slid up the back of your dress, gripping the zipper before undoing it in one swift motion and the fabric fell to the floor. The cool air seized your naked torso for only a moment before Zemo pressed himself against you again. The coat you’d complained about before, now provided warmth and security. You tipped your head back, almost over the edge of the balcony as he continued worshipping your neck and chest.

“I don’t eat, I don’t sleep,” he said between wet open-mouthed kisses on your breasts. His hot mouth left purple spots that cooled instantly in the chilly night air.

“I do nothing but think of you,” he finished before toying with your hardened nipple between his teeth.

You moaned then, louder than you should’ve, and let your eyes flutter open. The world was upside-down but you made no motion to move. You were making Madripoor proud by being pressed up against a balcony by an international criminal.

Utterly pleased with himself, Zemo raised his face back towards yours, leaning you both over the edge.

“Shhh liebling,” he cooed.

He pulled you back over, kissing your shoulder before removing his jacket and draping it over you. Each brush of his lips feeling more improper than the last.

“We would not want your friends to see you like this.”

In the next second, he swept you off of your feet and hoisted you into his strong arms. You watched the world sway around you and then settle when he placed you on the lounge chair, letting you get some warmth back from the coat and cushions.

He draped one of your legs over an armrest, exposing you to him except for a thin pair of underwear.

“Not with you spread open for me,” he growled. He towered over you for only a moment before kneeling between your legs. The man whose stature made him the tallest amongst giants; the most important in any room he chose, knelt before you.

“What would they say,” he mumbled in a trace. His hands gripped both of your thighs, causing an eruption of goosebumps across your whole body. “If they saw you like this, with me?”

He looked up at you then, raising an eyebrow, and tracing the inside of your thigh with his thumb.

You answered him breathlessly. “They’d tell you to stop.”

“And what would you say to that?”

His voice sent shockwaves through your system. Dark and sultry, with a hint of danger. You threw your head back again, barely able to keep a single thought straight. Your body shuddered but you couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or the need for his touch. When you looked back to him, he was surveying your body with the hunger of a starved wolf.

“Would you want me to stop?” His voice was gentle and sweet then, asking in earnest.

“Meine Liebe," he taunted you for consent as he flashed a smirk and pulled something from his pocket.

Cold metal grazed your thigh. A moan escaped your throat as he unsheathed a serrated knife and caressed your skin with the dull side.

“I wouldn’t want you to stop,” you gasped, almost vibrating with anticipation. “I don’t want you to stop — Helmut — please don’t stop.”

He chucked again, before focusing his attention on the area between your legs. You bucked slightly as the icy knife slid underneath the fabric. He made one strong slash upwards and you felt the fabric fall away from your wet core. One of his hands gripped your ass, but only for a second before he tore the rest of the fabric from your body.

“How could I ever withhold something from you, liebling?” His nose grazed your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most. It was only a moment before you felt his breath between your legs.

“How cruel it would be,” he growled. You moaned and slapped a hand over your mouth as he kissed your sensitive bundle of nerves. “To not give you everything.”

His tongue swirled against you in a tantalizing pattern, stroking you deliciously. He licked you methodically like he was reading the blueprint of your body right then and there. He held each thigh in a punishing grip, pressing you deeper into the cushions as he made a meal of you. The stars above your head blurred and the universe shifted.

If this was your destruction then it was illustrious. You'd do it over and over again until you landed in a cell right next to him.

“Helmut,” you whined with a heaving chest.

“Tell me what you want,” he mumbled between flicks of his tongue. “And it is yours.”

You would’ve begged him to let you cum but he beat you to it, making your back arch and mouth fall open in ecstasy. You trembled beneath him, over and over, but he didn’t let up. Your legs strained from being extended by his unflinching hands. You tried to stutter something out to him but no sound came except for content sighs and haphazard gasps. But his eyes remained closed regardless of the noise.

Without his mouth on you, he would’ve been mistakable for a good Christian, deep in prayer. Brow's furrowed in focus and devotion; lips moving in silent divine appeals. Only he could make you feel worthy of an alter. You couldn't picture anyone ever worshipping you in the same way again. It was his, you thought. I am his.

Lost in pleasure and shock, you reached up to run your nails against his scalp. Only then did he release you, and raise to meet your waiting lips as they trembled.

“You,” was all you could manage to whisper. “Only you.”

He pulled you from the seat, to wrap your legs around him. You brought your forehead to his and let him pepper you with chaste kisses.

“When I have you,” he said, before pulling the coat around you again. “It will be in a proper bed.”

You stared at him, confused and overwhelmed. The space between your legs ached with a longing to be filled but he let your legs fall away, and stood up.

“We can’t…I mean not now — they’ll hear.”

Zemo smiled and nodded while looking for something on the ground. After a moment of searching, he picked up the torn pieces of the red underwear you had been wearing. Before you could retrieve it, he pocketed the shorn fabric and stared you straight in the eyes.

“Worry not, Y/N,” he purred, reaching a hand out to help you up. “We have all the time in the world.”

[stellocchia]

This is part 5 of the Comprehensive Analysis of c!Tommy and c!Dream’s relationship during the Exile Arc

Part 1 -  Part 2 -  Part 3 -  Part 4

So, this time I’m condensing together 2 streams, so It may be slightly longer then Parts 3 and 4... 

Also from here on out as usual we will be talking exclusively about the characters unless stated otherwise and we will be treating some heavy themes, so keep that in mind

So, first stream we’ll be talking about is: TommyInnit Is Actually Depressed in Exile

So, as I mentioned at the end of the last one, once the party stream was over Tommy seemed to dissociate and go underwater until he had only one air bubble remaining and then logged off. This stream starts with Tommy drowning and being extremely confused as to how that happened. Also Tommy moved to the second fase of his exile Minecraft skin.

“I held a party and the only person who showed up was Dream. But it’s okay because he’s great! He’s- he’s cool...” 

*Tommy sees a Tubbo statue holding a ‘Your Tommy’ compass* “Tubbo is the reason that I’m out here... ‘Your Tommy compass’? Dream told me that Tubbo lost his compass!” (once again absolutely trusting what Dream says)

“If Tubbo wanted to be here then he could come here and he’s chosen NOT TO! Even if he didn’t get fucking invited to the party, which he did! He’s not shown up once... not to say ‘hi’, not left a gift, not left me anything... he’s just been... Tubbo” 

“Everyone keeps coming to me out of pity and no-one comes in just to say ‘hello’, no the only person who’s- *long pause* the only person who’s done that is Dream... he’s the only person” (this is a bit of an insight on Tommy’s mindset regarding others)

So, now the mailing chest has been moved to underneath Tommy’s bed, because Dream kept intercepting Ranboo’s and Tommy’s mails. Also Ranboo writing “Jesus Christ Dream is scary” in this mail is a mood.

“You know, if it was Tubbo that got exiled, which he wouldn’t have in the first place, everyone would be visiting him everyday. Even if I was the president and I was the one who had to exile him I would have visited him everyday, everyone would have... if the roles were reversed... but the roles aren’t reversed” 

It’s interesting that by now he has internilized that Tubbo would not have been exiled because he’s much more obedient when Dream never cared about that (he did care, but only to the extent of: Tommy not following his orders is the most probable reason for Dream’s obsession with him). He would have pushed for the exile (also known as Glorified Kidnapping) no matter what sooner or later. If Tubbo was the one to be unfortunate enough to attract Dream’s obsession nothing would have changed from that point of view, except, would Tommy have been as afraid of visiting Tubbo as Tubbo was of visiting him? 

Also then Tommy tries to make 2 Screaming Stations. One near the sea and one in the neter (coincidentally directly above the two liquids he almost died from in exile). Neither of them worked, the nether one only resulting effective once a ghast shot him. Also this is the stream where Tommy drops Jack Manifold into lava (though he had no idea that that was a canon kill) and Jack kindaps/kills Tommy’s pumpking girlfriend as revenge? It’s a weird one. Another thing to point out is that Tommy just doesn’t wear armour at any point.

“Why did I just do that? Why did I just kill him?” *joins Jack vc* “Listen, I’m really sorry” (just to specify Tommy did apologize multiple times right after doing it, since a lot of people seem not to remember how things went)

“For some reason I just can’t let it out... why can’t- why can’t I scream?” (said right before a ghast fireballed him and he screamed)

After that Ranboo comes to visit. Tommy also breaks a bit more of the Nether path and then he makes the signs: “You are now entering Logstedshire, population: 1″ and “You are now entering Dream Smp, Happy Place. They’re all happy. It’s not quiet, just happy”. 

“Aside from maybe Dream” *seeing Ranboo* “And also I guess a bit Ranboo no-one’s came to visit me and when they have they’ve been live so that they can go ‘Oh he’s in exile guys, come and look at this! Come and look at this!’” (a good canon interpretation of this is that Tommy is feeling like a carnival attraction as he put it a while ago. Also Ranboo is now his strongest connection aside from Dream)

“I would actually go and get pets since pets are the best thing for sad people, but so far all my pets have just been used to be tortured in war so I don’t wanna- I don’t wanna put them through that...” (that’s a really f*cking grim take that just so happens to be true that was shoved in the middle of a random stream...) 

“Ranboo I’ve had a bit- you know ‘cause Dream isn’t on?” “Mhm” “I reckon I’m gonna- I’m gonna- one day Ranboo I’m gonna fight back, but for now he’s my only friend. Other then you” “Heh, yeah... wait!” “What if I make a little... heh a room”

This bit is quite an important one: Tommy’s first (and last) real act of rebellion against his situation. He’s still confused about it because he thinks of Dream as a friend, but he knows that his situation cannot last forever and that he will need to fight back at some point. He never gets to build a sort of “resistence in exile” type of thing, but he does manage later on to snap out of Dream’s control.

“I’m not gonna fight back now, because I owe everything to Dream. He comes and sees me and he gives me armour sometimes and he makes me happier and he gives me his trident” “Isn’t he the reason why you’re in this situation?” (now Ranboo is the one who took on the role of the one poking holes in Dream’s retoric)

“I made a bee sanctuary or whatever it’s called” “Oh shit! Can I come and see it?” “Oh yeah when you- you come back. When you’re allowed to come back. Which hopefully will be soon” “Oh... you’re like the others” (I’m not entirely sure how to interpret this exchange, but it is the point where Tommy starts loosing trust in Ranboo)

“Apparently Tubbo got a compass” “Yeah! Oh yeah the compass... it got accidentally, like, it was very terrible timing with a charged creeper” “He let it go?” “He didn’t let it go!” “He let me go?” “No he didn’t- he didn’t purposefully let it go, he wouldn’t do that” (this conversation is very much NOT about the compass...)

“But Ranboo, listen, at some point I’m gonna have to do something about this and I don’t know if that’s gonna be... someone’s gonna die” (pretty sure he’s referring to himself there...)

“So recently my buddy Dream has been doing this thing where he um- it makes sense though! Because I’m not in his land anymore, but he ta- he takes shit from me so I need to make sure that I keep them in that chest down there” (it is indeed quite typical for victims of abuse to justify their abuser’s actions and that’s what we’re seeing)

“Everyone in this world you think cares: probably doesn’t”

“You didn’t come to my fucking party Ranboo and I invited everyone!” “You did?” “I didn’t, I didn’t, Wilbur did! And everyone could have came and you didn’t” “Wait what do you mean? There was no invite!”

So, up until now it was of course only speculation that Dream had tampered with the Party invites, but, of course, this is the first proof we have of that fact. Later on Ranboo reiterates his point during the Bedrock Boys Arc, since this time Tommy was still too hurt by it to actually try and listen to him.

“I know that, whatever happens, I’m not gonna be here forever. Wether it’s in exile or wether it’s just here [alive], I’ve no idea how long I’ve got left” (in case it wasn’t obvious: Tommy in exile was suicidal)

“Ranboo everyone always tells me I was the- the- the hero of this server, the one that came and fucking fought Dream and the only one that ever spoke against him but... maybe I was just- maybe this was just meant to be...” (Tommy also very much resents the idea of being a “hero”)

“Doesn’t Dream, like, take your armour? Is that what you said?” “I don’t know I just- hey man, I just follow the boss” (Ranboo was quite aware of at least part of what happened in exile)

We then have Tommy labeling his chasts: ‘don’t let yourself down’ and ‘keep calm and carry on’ and stored away 13 enderpearls. Also closing speach, because it was really good:

“Is it worth it Ranboo?” “What? What worth it?” “Is this [trying to fight back] even worth it?” “I’d say it is. I mean, it’s gonna be tough, it’s gonna be- I mean, I couldn’t even imagine it, but it’s definitely gonna be worth it in the end when you can come back” “In the end...” “I mean at the end of your exile” “*sigh* It’s never gonna end”

Moving on to the next stream we have: Tommy's Exile Is Coming To A Close, which just so happens to not be about Tommy’s exile ending, despite the title, but just about Tommy getting EVEN MORE depressed...

Once again, this stream only has Tommy and later Ranboo and Niki in it, and it’s not too important, so I’ll try to be quick about it. 

The stream starts, once again, with Tommy drowning. This time a bit further away from the coast.

“I don’t think I’ve got very long left. I’m not getting better. I’m not (...) and I- I can just feel it: if this- if it keeps on going how it is right now, if- if this keeps on and I keep being alone and my only friend *pause* is Dream, I don’t have very long- I don’t have very long left” (his mental state just literally plummeted after the failed beach party)

Tommy builds the Thinking Palace and the second Nether bridge to Logsteshire (out of cobblestone and lime green concrete, though he wanted to make it out of clay, how’s that for subtle symbolism?) during this stream. Also, may I point out that Tommy is canonically aware of his eyes becoming less and less blue? Also the response mail that Tommy writes is quite worrying here:

*Tommy falls into water* “Why did I just do that? I don’t think I- I don’t think I chose to dr- *sigh*” (pretty sure this is another instance of dissociation)

“How can I be with other people and still feel so alone?” (that’s because loneliness has nothing to do with how crowded a certain place is and more to do with feelings of alienation)

Either way the stream ends with Niki and Ranboo helping Tommy out with the bridge a bit and that’s it! 

“‘Please speak to Tubbo’? My time with Tubbo is come and gone. He had weeks to come and visit me. He chose- he chose against it. And that’s okay... that’s okay” (we have a second time fram indicating that it’s now been definitely over 2 weeks in their time, considering the last time we got one it had been 13 days)

I reckon the next post will be 3 streams together (since the Mexican Dream and the Drista one are... mostly non-canon and I don’t remember Quackity’s visit being too serious) and then I’ll make one on the final one and that’ll be it, I'm pretty sure...

[the7thcrow]

indulgence | part three

~

pairing: felix x (fem) vampire!reader

summary: an indulgence grows to become dangerous as the society of hampden college takes note of y/n’s new blood bag.

series masterlist.

word count: 6.6 k

genre: forbidden love. this part is very angsty oh boy, suggestive.

warnings: blood and blood drinking (because they’re vampires lmao), character death, themes of guilt surrounding said character death, themes of lying and betrayal, murder, sex is discussed but not described, alcohol.

rating: 16+

taglist (open!) : @katya-moro​ @leximb1997​

a/n: hi everybody! here’s a new part of indulgence for you! definitely a bit of a darker tone to this part, as we take a bit of a turn in the storyline (but frankly, i’m very excited about it). if you enjoy this, please let me know (only if you want, of course)! i’m a sucker for feedback. and once again, thanks for reading! i appreciate it. <3

previous chapter.

...

..

.

“No, Felix Lee will be the one to pay this price. Kill him, and the damage you’ve caused will be forgiven.”

The words echo in your mind as you leave the councilroom, your ears ringing. This couldn’t be happening. You expected something terrible of course, but you at least figured it would happen to you.

Then again, wasn’t this punishment worse? To suffer with the fact that this was all your fault, that Felix Lee would die by your hand, while you lived on. No, this was no form of mercy. The Council was cruel, and this was no exception.

As you enter the main hallway, you feel a hand rest on your shoulder. “Y/N,” a familiar voice speaks softly, but it does anything but soothe you.

You whirl on Chan, smacking his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” you spit, staring daggers into him. While you expect him to be smug, or even amused, his eyes seem empty. Sad. He feels guilty.

Of course he does, because that’s who Chan is. He isn’t a monster, no matter how badly you try to make him out to be. No matter how much easier it would be to hate him. You know Chan, and he would never be giddy about something like this.

“I’m sorry,” he pleads as you turn away from him and stride down the hall. “I didn’t think that this would happen. I didn’t think that they would kill him.”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” You mock, refusing to slow down or look him in the eye. “Well, I guess it’s fine then.”

He chases after you. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Y/N. That’s not what I’m asking for. I want to help you.”

At this you turn around to face him, pulling him into a separate, less busy hallway that leads to the library. “What? You want to hand me the blade? Cock the gun?”

Chan opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. His eyes are wide, shocked by the venom of your words.

“No-no? That’s not what I mean-”

“Or do you just want to be in the room while I drink him dry? Try to lend some moral support, because God knows I’ll need it.”

“Y/N, if you’ll just let me talk-” he pleads, once again placing a hand on your shoulder. It’s all too familiar, and only makes your anger spark further.

“No!” You cut him off, your voice dangerously loud. “You sold me out, Chan. You fucked me over. And I don’t care why, I don’t care how you try to justify or fix it now. I don’t care. It’s over. I have to kill someone I care about, someone… someone I could have loved one day because of you. Because of your-”

“Hey, uh, are you guys okay?” A voice asks from over your shoulder. You turn your head to see Jeongin, eyes imploring the both of you with a nervous curiosity.

Chan plasters on a reassuring smile. “Yeah, we’re good, man. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” Jeongin asks carefully. “Because I heard yelling-”

“We’re okay,” you say, putting on your own fake smile. “We’ll meet you down at the front in a second, we just need a minute.”

“Ah, alright, if you say so,” he says, not sounding so sure. Slowly, he turns around, disappearing down the hall.

Once you hear the sound of his footsteps fade, Chan turns back to you, his voice low. “Turn him,” he states.

“What?” You ask, eyes narrowing.

“Look,” he sighs. “I messed up, I’m sorry. I thought they’d make you stop seeing him, not have you kill the guy. It was petty and stupid, and in some messed up way I thought that I would be protecting you. Clearly, I’ve managed to do the exact opposite. I’m sorry.”

You open your mouth to fire back, to tell him his apology is not accepted, but as his eyes meet yours, you can’t bring yourself to. His eyes are glassy, on the brink of tears. He swallows deeply, stabilizing himself before continuing.

“And I know if they kill him, you’ll never forgive me. Hell, you shouldn’t forgive me. But that’s the last thing I want, for us to be like this.”

He stops for a second, a breath of silence passing between the two of you. Your eyes begin to sting, overwhelmed by the emotion of it all. It could be your current situation. It could be that familiar look of painful affection swimming in Chan’s eyes. It could be a lot of things. Perhaps it is all of them.

“What do I do, Chan?” You whisper, your voice coming out hoarse. “Fuck, what do I do?”

He hesitates for a moment, before pulling you into a hug. That’s the final push that breaks you, tears fall from your eyes, sprinkling your cheeks. You would be embarrassed, if it weren’t only Chan there to see you. Despite all that has happened, there is still that comfortable acceptance that hangs in the air around the two of you. That involuntary form of care that doesn’t flare out, even after the love has dissipated.

“You turn him into one of us,” Chan says. “It’s the only option, maybe then The Council will cut him a break.”

“I can’t do that to him,” you whisper, shaking your head. “I can’t make him suffer like this.”

“Maybe,” Chan says, setting his chin on top of your head. “But is this really a fate worse than death?”

~~~~

That is the question you contemplate on the lonely walk back to your apartment. Chan had offered to walk you back, but you declined. Despite the moment of reconciling the two of you had shared, you still aren’t ready to be around him. He still hasn’t earned your forgiveness.

As you arrive home, your apartment feels haunted. Not by Chan’s ghost, as it once had been, but Felix’s. You can see him lying on the couch, television playing some history documentary you were both only half paying attention to. You can smell his cooking wafting in from the kitchen, a familiar sweet that had long since been devoured.

You can feel his touch against your skin, the phantom of his fingertips dancing along your back. Your neck. Your thighs.

You can’t kill him, that much you know. However, if you don’t, someone else will. No, you have to fix this, and as much as you don’t want to admit it, Chan is right. The only way Felix has a chance of survival is to turn him, but could you really do that? After knowing just how terrible this life really was?

If you had been given the option in being turned, there was no way in hell you would have accepted. You remember that dreadful night, roughly three years ago. You’d been new to Hampden, and eager to meet new people. You stumbled into him at a party. He was a little older, a little classy. You’d been interested in him right away, not yet having a clue about what he or The Society was. Vampires were nothing but a myth, a fairy-tale, a form of media-culture.

This would change later that month. For good.

The two of you began to see one another casually. It was fun, thrilling. You kept each other a secret, for reasons you didn’t understand the full extent of at the time. He was unlike anyone you’d ever met, for both better and for worse. With his charisma and passion, came a strange, devious obsessiveness. A terrifying need for control. You’d go as far as to say, a lack of humanity.

Then came the night you decided to end things. The last night of your life as you knew it. You told him you wanted to stop seeing each other, he refused to leave. He yelled. He broke things. In the end, he turned you.

When you awoke, your new and rejuvenated self, he was already gone. This wasn’t a desperate attempt at staying together, at making you need him. No, it was revenge. You would pay the price for rejecting him, for the rest of your life.

Which was to say, forever.

You stare at the telephone sitting on your coffee table. Could you really do that to Felix? Could you really take away his life as he knew it? Make him say goodbye to his roommates, his freedom? Everything would become controlled by The Society.

The answer is no. No, you can’t make him do that. But as always, this is not a matter of what you do and don’t want. It never has been. It never can be.

You keep this in mind as you dial Felix’s cell, your fingers pressing the familiar keys deeply lodged in your memory. You don’t have to think, you’ve dialed this number so many times before.

The phone rings three times before he picks up. “Y/N?” His voice echoes through the speaker. He sounds worried. Perhaps he should be. “You there?”

“Yeah,” you mumble quietly, clearing your throat. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Is everything okay?” He asks, his voice full of concern. “This is a lot earlier than you said you’d call. Did you talk to Chan?”

Felix doesn’t know you had a meeting with The Council today, you hadn’t mentioned it to him prior. He knows nothing. Nothing of his death sentence. Nothing of the weight of what you have done.

“Yeah, I talked to him.” You say quietly, before a moment of silence passes by, as Felix waits for you to continue. “Listen, could you come over?”

“Right now?” He asks. “It’s the middle of the day, are you sure?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you think. “There isn’t anything to hide from anymore.”

“I’m sure,” you say, controlling the waver in your voice. What are you going to say when he gets here? How do you tell someone that they’re on death row? How do you offer them immortality? How do you explain the price?

“Okay,” he replies, in that sweet, deep voice of his. “I’ll see you soon.”

~~~~

You don’t know what to expect will happen when you open the door for Felix. How will he react when you tell him? Will he scream? Cry in silence? Or will he just leave, not being able to stand looking at you any longer?

Your stomach knots. You don’t know how he will react, but you know at the very least, he won’t be thrilled.

The doorbell rings, rattling through your apartment, shaking you from your worried daze. You approach the door slowly, hand shakily finding itself clenched around the door knob. With only a breath to settle yourself, you twist the handle.

When Felix see’s you, he can already tell that something is wrong. Perhaps it’s the way your eyes are staring at him as if he’s going to disappear. Or maybe it’s how your hands are shaking, arms wrapped around you, as if you’re trying to make yourself smaller.

All he knows is that something didn’t go according to plan.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks, pulling you into a hug. The gesture is warm, comforting. You could so easily slip away, immerse yourself in the feeling. Forget about The Council. Forget about it all, for just a moment. For just a night.

But oh, how selfish that would be.

“No,” you whisper into his chest, unable to look up and meet his gaze. “No, everything isn’t okay.”

“What’s wrong?” Felix asks, gently breaking away from you. He takes your hand, slowly leading you over to the couch. “Did they do something? Did they hurt you?” He asks, beckoning for you to take a seat.

You laugh, although it sounds far more like a sob. Of course, before all else, he’s worried about you. It is just so utterly Felix, to have all his concerns focused on you, and not an inkling of worry towards himself.

Maybe you should have been more like him. Maybe if you had focused on what danger your little arrangement could have put Felix in, rather than trying to save your own hide, you could have prevented this.

So many maybe’s. So many possibilities you’d never know the answer too.

“No, Felix. They didn’t hurt me.” You sigh, looking up to meet his eyes, which are wide and swimming with concern. He’s panicking, that much is obvious.

“Then what happened? Was it Chan? Did he say something?”

You sigh. Time to get this over with. Rip off the bandaid.

“No, Lix. It wasn’t Chan. It’s about you,” you say. He freezes, slowly pulling his hand away from its place on your thigh.

“About me?” He asks slowly, the look in his eyes shifting from a worried concern, to fear. “What about me?”

You stare at him for a moment, unsure of how to break the news. In the end, you decide to just be outright.

“They want me to kill you,” you state. You expect him to jump away from you. To run, or yell. Something, at least. Instead, he blinks.

“Are you going to?” Felix asks, his tone emotionless. As if he were asking what you were doing that day, rather than whether or not you planned to murder him.

“What do you think?” You look at him, trying to read the expression on his face, but draw blank. You can’t tell what he’s thinking.

He sighs. “Alright. So what are we going to do, then?” He’s awfully calm considering the circumstances. Almost too calm. An eerie chill passes through you.

“Well, that’s the tricky part,” you start, inching away from him slightly. Why is he so relaxed? Did he expect this to happen? How, if you certainly didn’t? “I talked to Chan, and we both agree there’s only one way to solve this.”

“Wait,” Felix looks at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “Chan? As in the same Chan who probably turned us into The Society in the first place? That Chan?”

“Yeah, that Chan,” you mumble, almost embarrassed. When he puts it like that, listening to Chan’s advice sounds foolish, but you know it’s more complicated than that. Chan had fucked up, there was no denying that, but you and Felix didn’t have many allies in this. It’s important to accept help where you can find it.

“Okay, and what did he recommend?” Felix asks, and you can hear the resentment in his tone.

“That I turn you,” you say. Frankly, you’d expected Felix to keep up this strange, cold exterior. Instead his jaw drops and he jumps to his feet.

“You-you want to what?” He stammers, taking a few steps back. His eyes are wide, full of nothing but pure terror.

“Woah, calm down! It’s okay,” you say, rising to your own feet, extending your hand out towards him. It reminds you of that first night you met, when he told you he knew what you were. About how his childhood neighbors were just like you. It is strange, looking back on how much has changed, yet also remained the same.

“You wouldn’t do that,” he states, refusing to take your hand. Instead, he wraps his arms around himself, shrinking backwards. He’s utterly terrified. “You want to make me into a monster?”

At that you frown. You know he’s frightened, that much is blatantly obvious, but a monster? That stung.

“A monster? Is that what you see me as?” You say, your tone sharp.

“Y/N, you know that’s not what I meant,” he huffs, rolling his eyes. Your anger spikes sharply.

“Really? Because that seems to be exactly what you meant.”

“You’re a vampire, Y/N. I think that’s quite literally an example of a monster. You? No, you aren’t one. But Chan? The Society? They are.”

“You don’t seem to find it so monstrous when I drink from you, do you? No, you actually like it. So don’t act like you know what you’re talking about, Felix. Because you don’t.”

“But, I do know!” He shouts back, closing the space between the two of you. You stare up at him, and suddenly you see it. The flicker of something behind his eyes. The flicker of something more.

“How?” You whisper, your breath hot against his lips. “How do you know?”

“Because,” he says, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. You hear it, pounding, the blood rushing through his veins.

“I’m a hunter.”

~~~~

7 weeks prior…

Felix hadn’t originally expected to like you. From what Changbin had told him, vampires were the embodiment of evil. Blood-thirsty murderers, who revelled in the pain and anguish of their victims. Frankly, there really didn’t seem to be anything to be fond of.

No, he had expected to despise you. Fear you. Take the greatest risk he’d ever gambled walking into the library that night. He wasn’t even sure if he’d walk out alive.

Especially after what happened to Hyunjin.

Hyunjin was one of Felix’s roommates. He, Changbin and Han lived together for over a year before Changbin invited Felix to move in a few months ago.

Felix had really liked Hyunjin from the start. The guy was funny, always ready to share a good story, or listen to one of Felix’s own. He was greatly accepting, treating Felix as if he had always lived there, right from the day he’d moved in. He was sweet, creative. A Dance major. Everything about the guy screamed likeable, and Felix couldn’t help but admire him.

Right up until the day he was murdered.

Hyunjin had started seeing someone. Although he wouldn’t admit it to any of his three roommates, the signs were undeniable. He’d disappear late into night, and always come home early in the morning. He’d cancel plans because he “had to study,” and when they came home he was nowhere to be found.

Changbin had confronted him about this, but Hyunjin had denied it. In that care-free, sweet nature of his that made Felix want to believe he was telling the truth.

But he couldn’t, because Felix had seen all the signs too.

Felix remembered one morning, when he woke up to find Hyunjin in the kitchen, brewing a pot of coffee. The man hadn’t noticed him walking in, and Felix went to grab him by the shoulders. Just to make him jump a little, nothing too menacing.

But that’s when he saw them, peeking out from Hyunjin’s collared shirt. Two bites marks, clear as day.

When Hyunjin noticed him, he jumped back, quickly pulling the collar of his shirt higher. “Oh! Hey, Felix! You’re up early,” he’d said, laughing. However, Felix could see the falseness of his smile, the intense look in his eyes.

Hyunjin was hiding something, and whatever those bite marks were held the answer.

Now, Felix had never heard anything about vampires before. Therefore, when he saw the marks, he just assumed Hyunjin was into something… a little less than vanilla, to put it lightly. He shook it off. Tried to distance that day in the kitchen from his thoughts.

Yet, the marks stuck with him. They just looked so… real. They were not a human bite, nor any animal Felix could think of. They looked like something straight out of a horror film. The way the skin bruised around them, swollen. The holes themselves were dark. A hollow red.  

Felix should have been concerned. Worried. Instead, he was intrigued. He wanted to talk to Hyunjin about them, but it felt too personal. He’d only known the guy a few months, and the marks seemed to be something Hyunjin wished to hide. He couldn’t just come outright and ask him.

So Felix kept it to himself. A mistake. A huge mistake.

As roughly 3 weeks later, Felix would walk into their apartment to find Changbin curled on the floor, trembling. His cheeks were stained with tears, eyes unfocused as Han sat behind him, patting his back to grant the smallest inkling of comfort.

“What happened?” Felix asked, panicking as he rushed to his friend's side. He may have only moved in a few months ago, but he’d known Changbin almost all his life. They’d gone to the same elementary school, parents being childhood friends themselves. They were close, unbelievably close. And in all that time, Felix had never seen Changbin so upset. So disheveled. Broken.

When Changbin didn’t respond, Felix turned to Han, who was already staring at him with somber, empty eyes.

“Hyunjin’s dead,” Han said, so quietly Felix wasn’t sure if he heard him correctly.

“Dead?” Felix choked, eyes subconsciously trailing to Hyunjin’s bedroom door. “What do you mean? He- he can’t be dead?” There was no way. Hyunjin had to be in there, dancing to his favourite mixes or reading a webcomic, gushing about his favourite dramas. He couldn’t be dead.

“He is,” Changbin spoke suddenly, still not deterring his eyes from their place on the wall. “I saw it happen.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Felix wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t sure how to form words. Shock enveloped him in a fuzzy, mind-clouding fog.

The three of them sat there for what felt like hours, until eventually, Changbin spoke.

“Don’t you want to know what happened?” He asked.

“Okay,” Felix whispered. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know. If he could handle it. Yet, his curiosity got the better of him.

“I was asleep in my room, woke up to the sound of banging on the door,” Changbin spoke quietly. “Heard Hyunjin get up to grab it, assuming it was fine. When he opened the door, he sounded shocked. Afraid. He spoke like he knew why they were here. Like he was in danger.”

“I heard them come inside. Hyunjin started shouting, “get away from me!”, “don’t touch me!” I got up, rushing towards the living room. However, as I was coming, I heard Hyunjin suddenly get cut off. Confused, I carefully peeked around the corner. Can you guess what I saw?”

When Felix didn’t answer, Changbin turned to face him, his eyes finally meeting Felix’s own. Felix swallowed, his heart rising into his throat. Changbin’s eyes were dead, holding a darkness that made Felix shiver.

“They were drinking his blood, Felix. Like a fucking vampire. The guy had Hyunjin pinned to a wall, and didn’t let go of him until Hyunjin was gone. Until he drank every last drop in his body. Then they dragged him out of here. Left as if nothing had happened.”

“That… that’s impossible,” Felix shook his head. The story had to have been fake, Changbin’s way of dealing with the trauma. It couldn’t have been true.

“Is it?” Changbin asked. “Is it really? Because I think we’ve all seen those sickening, fucking bite marks Hyunjin has been carrying around these last couple months.”

Felix froze. That was true, but still, that couldn’t have meant vampires were real. No, that was ridiculous. They weren’t any more real than mermaids, or werewolves. It was simply impossible.

But… was it?

Suddenly, Changbin leaped to his feet, storming across the living room and whipping open the door to Hyunjin’s bedroom.

Han, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, chased after him. “Changbin, no! It’s too soon. Don’t do this to yourself. Not right now.”

“No!” Changbin yelled back, not looking back at Han. He began digging through Hyunjin’s drawers, throwing everything inside out onto the bed. “It’s my fault he’s dead, and you know that. I should have tried to stop it, something at least. But I froze! I didn’t do shit! And now Hyunjin is dead, Han.”

Changbin rushed over to Hyunjin’s nightstand, ripping out the bottom drawer. “The least I can do now is try to prove what happened to him. Try to show that it wasn’t just my bloody imagination, like Felix over here clearly thinks it is.”

Felix, unsure of what to say, remained quiet.

“He doesn’t think you imagined it, Changbin,” Han reassured, carefully putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. “But trashing Hyunjin’s room? That’s not going to solve anything.

Changbin shrugged off Han’s hand, scowling. “You don’t know what will help,” he spat, half-mindedly flipping through one of Hyunjin’s old notebooks. “There’s got to be something in here. Something that will prove that-” he began, but quickly stopped.

Changbin stood silently for a moment, staring at the words on the pages with an intensity that made Felix nervous.

“This is it,” Changbin said quietly, not looking up at them.

“It’s what?” Han said, quickly placing himself beside him, beginning to read whatever was on the pages. He quickly went quiet, his eyes growing wide as he scanned the paper.

Changbin looked up at Felix, an unreadable expression on his face.

“It’s our proof.”

         ~~~~

Hours passed and Felix finally found himself sitting at his desk, the dim light of his lamp cascading over what turned out to be Hyunjin’s journal.

Changbin had finally given it to him, spending hours obsessing over every word and detail. God knows where he was now, having left the apartment around midnight. A couple hours had passed, and he still hadn’t returned.

Han had gone to sleep a while ago, leaving Felix alone with nothing but the ghost of Hyunjin’s words that he left behind. A chill passed through him. This was all he had left of him, these entries discussing what would later become the reason for his death.

Felix paused on a certain entry, one dating back roughly a month ago, regarding the bite marks.

October 23rd.

She fed from me today. Finally. It hurt seeing her so starved, so weak and frail compared to when we first met. Everytime I’d look in her eyes, I’d see how glazed over they were, how blown out from hunger. It physically hurt, knowing how she was putting herself through this pain when I could help her, if she’d only let me.

I had to beg her to do it. She’s so worried about them. So paranoid they’re going to find out. I’m scared too, I guess, but I’m willing to risk it. For her.

As for the feeding itself, it’s difficult to explain. It hurt, undoubtedly, but at the same time it was wonderful. It felt wrong, wild. Raw. But I don’t think I’ve ever felt so connected with someone. It’s not the same as sex, somehow it felt more intimate? Like I said, it’s difficult to explain. Strange.

It’s weird, looking in the mirror now, seeing those marks. Yet, they make me smile. They remind me of her, as if I’m branded with the fact she trusted me enough to do this.

I think I’m starting to love her. Even if worse comes to worst, I don’t think I’d ever regret this. She’s shown me so much, I only hope our time doesn’t run out.

I’m seeing her again, tomorrow. I think Changbin is starting to get suspicious, he made a comment about me leaving late at night. I denied it, but I know he thinks something is up. Maybe Han and Felix do too, but they haven’t said anything.

I want to tell them, I really do. But I know I can’t. I promised her. Besides, roping them into this might make matters worse.

I hope I’m making the right choice.

~Hyunjin.

Felix felt like he was going to be sick. So Hyunjin knew. He knew what was coming, even a month ago. Yet he didn’t stop seeing this girl. Why? Hyunjin was a hopeless romantic, sure. But even so, this seemed ridiculous. Why would he keep doing this, knowing the consequences?

Felix’s mind wandered back to the marks on his neck. The deep gashes of where she’d drank from him. The feeding, as Hyunjin had called it. Was that what made him stay? This strange, monstrous intimacy?

Felix didn’t understand. He didn’t understand how this feeding could possibly be a good thing. And yet, to his own shame, he was curious. Curious of how it felt, how it led Hyunjin down this road to his death.

God, if Changbin could hear what he was thinking now.

  ~~~~

The following weeks passed by in a blur of grief and obsession. Changbin was rarely home. Sometimes he was at the library, doing as much research as he possibly could. Others, he was searching for more hunters, anything to find out more about what exactly Hyunjin had gotten himself into.

Today, the three roommates were sitting on the living room couch, discussing a rather important next step in Changbin’s mission of avenging Hyunjin.

“I found one,” Changbin stated, taking a sip of his gin and tonic.

Han frowned. “What do you mean you found one?”

“I mean one of those bloodsuckers is at the library every night the same time I am,” Changbin stated. Felix shifted nervously. He didn’t like the look on Changbin’s face.

“Okay,” Han continued, his frown deepening. “What do you want us to do about that? You’re not planning on shoving a stake through their heart or anything, are you?”

“No,” Changbin replied, although he didn’t seem to be as appalled by the idea as Han. “I plan on using them.”

“What do you mean?” Felix asked, an unsettling feeling passing through him.

“I mean, one of us has to get close to her. Close enough to figure out who this “they” Hyunjin keeps referencing is.”

“Then what?” Han asked, his arms crossed.

Changbin shrugged. “Then we make them pay for what they did to him. The only question now, is which one of us is it going to be?”

Now, Felix didn’t like vampires. Not at all. Not after what they’d done to Hyunjin. However, he couldn’t seem to find this deep-seeded hatred that Changbin had developed.

No, in fact he felt a level of sympathy for the girl who lived on Hyunjin’s pages. For the sweet and generous girl who would almost rather die than subject him to any danger. She wasn’t a monster, that much was obvious. No, the vampires that murdered Hyunjin, the vampires that she was so terrified of, they were the monsters.

But Changbin didn’t seem to see that. Felix didn’t blame him, he was blinded by both grief, as well as the overwhelming guilt that Hyunjin’s death was his fault. It wasn’t, of course.  Felix was sure that if Changbin had stepped in, they simply would have killed him too. But that wasn’t what Changbin wanted to hear.

So, before he could properly comprehend what he was doing, he spoke. “I’ll do it,” he said, causing the two men to raise their eyebrows.

“Really?” Han asked nervously, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Felix, you don’t have to. You could get yourself killed.”

Felix knew this. Hell, he knew this well. He also knew it was the right thing to do. This girl at the library… If Changbin attempted getting close to her in the state he was now, he’d end up getting one of them killed. Han, bless his soul, was far too paranoid to pull it off. Even now, he tried to distance himself from the entire topic of vampires. Maybe it was fear, maybe he didn’t like the spite in Changbin’s voice when he discussed them, but in any case, Felix knew he wouldn’t be able to do this.

Besides, he could handle it. You deserved to be given a chance. Perhaps you were an exception, like the girl in Hyunjin’s notebook.

“I’m sure,” Felix said. And so your mutual destruction began.

~~~~

Felix had met you in the library under Changbin’s instruction. Made some small talk, a little bit flirty but nothing too wild. He was surprised to find that you were rather pretty, a clean academic look and mysterious eyes. He was also surprised to find that you were witty, as well. Charming.

Based on the way Changbin had described you, well, you were supposed to be nothing short of a demon sent from hell.

You were both sitting in silence, Felix watching as you translated passages from The Iliad into Greek. Which he had to admit, was undoubtedly impressive.

It was then he noticed how glazed over your eyes were, pupils blown out in hunger, just as Hyunjin had described in his journal. Which meant he also knew that you were struggling, refraining from eating.

That’s when he felt it, that slightest pinch of sympathy. You weren’t eating, which meant you also weren’t sucking people dry in their apartments for their roommates to see. No, you were refraining yourself, and that wasn’t a monstrous thing to do.

The pieces fell like dominos after that. He kissed you. You invited him back to your apartment. You both went inside. You kissed some more.

Then he proceeded to scare the ever living hell out of you.

The look on your face when he told you he knew still haunts him. The sheer terror in your eyes, the unchained panic and fear. It was the kind’ve look someone had right before death. As if he were going to murder you.

He hadn’t expected it. He hadn’t realized that him knowing you were a vampire would be so catastrophic to you. It wasn’t like you told him, he already knew, but that didn’t seem to matter.

He quickly made up a story about his old neighbors being vampires, anything to calm you down. Then, to his own surprise, he offered to let you drink from him.

This wasn’t a part of the plan. If Changbin saw what he was doing now, he’d ring his neck for sure. Yet, Felix was curious, even more so then he was before. This intimacy, this incredible feeling that Hyunjin talked about, was it really true? He wanted to know.

There was also the fact of the matter that he genuinely wanted to help you. You were so scared, so petrified, and he was to blame. You were not a monster. You weren’t. You were just a scared girl who had clearly been starving herself, and if he could help with that, he should, shouldn’t he?

You were hesitant at first, but you agreed. Climbing on top of him, your breath hot against his neck. He braced himself for your fangs. Yet even so, nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of breaking through his skin.

It was painful, a throbbing ache erupting from his neck and flowing throughout the rest of his body. Felix could feel the blood pumping through his veins, escaping through his newly punctured wounds. He grabbed your arm for support, his mouth opening in a cry from the pain. Although, he doubted you could hear him, based on the way you lapped so lavishly at the blood, leaning into him.

Yet, with the pain came an undeniable sense of pleasure, pulsing through his body in waves. A dizzying, overwhelming sense of ecstasy, clouding his mind in a hazy fog of desire. It was overwhelming, how the feeling casted over him, draining him of anything but eachother. Here it was just you and him. There was nothing else. Nothing but the two of you.

He didn’t want anything else. Your name rang through his skull, shattering all other thoughts that existed outside this moment. His vision blurred, all his senses drifting from him. Yet, he didn’t want them. Didn’t need them. All he needed was you. You. You. He felt himself fall back, sinking into the floor, his limbs growing limp.

Then it stopped. You pulled away from him. He blinked, attempting to regain a proper sense of consciousness. He saw your face, your beautiful face, and smiled.

At that moment he understood. He understood it all. How Hyunjin followed down that path, how in the end he didn’t regret it.

He knew he’d come to make all the same mistakes.

~~~~

So your little arrangement continued, and slowly it began to develop into more. While enjoyable, it wasn’t just about the feeding. Not at all.

Felix thought you were incredible, to put it lightly. You were unlike anyone he’d ever met. Clever, kind, selfless. You held an unbelievable sense of passion in everything you did.

His favourite days were the ones spent at your place. The comfort of your bed became his safe place. Your kitchen became his creative outlet. His home whenever he was wrapped in your arms.

No, nothing made Felix more happy than the time he spent with you.

That’s what he thinks of now, walking back home from your apartment, after having told you everything. You were angry of course, feeling lied to, betrayed. He doesn’t blame you. He blames himself.

He blames himself for everything that has happened. He knew what would happen from the beginning, what his sentence would be, he’d seen it all before. Yet, he chose to ignore it. Some little voice inside of him said that he was different, that it was merely unlucky what happened to Hyunjin. That you two would beat the odds.

Felix knows that he had been lying to himself. He knows Hyunjin had been careful, just as much as the two of you had been. He brought this upon himself.

Why? Because he loves you. He can admit it to himself now, after everything that has happened. He isn’t sure if you feel the same, especially after the last couple hours. He doesn’t blame you, if you don’t.

He should have just told you the truth from the beginning, but he didn’t want to lose you by scaring you again. His roommates wouldn’t tell anyone, he’d made sure of it when he talked to Changbin and Han a couple days ago. Now that was a horrible conversation, Changbin still hasn’t spoken to him since. 

Felix had told both of them that things hadn’t worked out after the first night he spent with you. That way, he wouldn’t feel pressured in divulging anything you’d told him of The Society. As much as he hated them, so truly hated them, he’d promised you secrecy. He’d honoured that promise as much as he could, even if it ultimately put him in danger.

Yet, that’s not what he’s worried about right now. No, he is thinking of your face that first night you spent together, that look of pure terror. It was something he had never wanted to see again.

That hope was futile, however. As when he told you, he did have to see it again. Watch as your eyes widened, your mouth gaping open and eyebrows furrowed as he told you how his roommates knew. How he came to the library that night looking for you. The details of Hyunjin’s murder.

How a part of Felix knew that his fate could be the same.

You had walked into your kitchen, trying to get yourself away from him. Saying that you needed time to think this all through, and that he should do the same. After all, immortality and eternal bloodlust were two difficult things to be offered.

You told him to leave. He did. He’d said that he would call you within the next couple days, when he came to his decision. Then you’d turn him, if that’s what he decided, and that would be it. He didn’t know what this meant for the two of you afterwards, but there’d be time to figure that out later.

Oh, there would be so much time.

Because Felix already knows what his decision will be.

He hates Vampires. He hates The Society. The way they torment your life, just as they did to the girl in Hyunjin’s notebook. The way they killed Hyunjin. How Chan, someone you once trusted, turned the two of you in without a second thought.

But it doesn’t matter if he hates them. Not anymore.

As in this moment, Felix Lee has decided that he will become one himself.

~~

next chapter.

[mieohmy]

𝖥𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖬𝗒 𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 | 𝖪𝗂𝗆 𝖲𝗎𝗇𝗐𝗈𝗈

PAIRING: kim sunwoo x fem reader

GENRE: fluff, humor, angst, hotel del luna! au, head manager! sunwoo, hotel owner! reader

WC: 1.9k

NOTES: mentions of ghosts, murders, heavily hotel del luna inspired

↳ "What if my greatest pain was not being able to stay by your side?"

update: part two !

✵

You slump back in your chair, drained. You spent the whole day filing taxes and guest requests. Looking outside, you realize it was still bright out, the sun filtering through the window. You didn't particularly care for it. Craving for a drink, you requested a staff member. They bow before politely asking, “What is it, Boss y/l/n?” You tap your freshly painted nails on your chin before ordering a bottle of champagne and a shrimp cocktail. That would put you in a good mood. 

Imagining the taste of the bubbly concoction, you let out a content sigh before looking at the next case file. -A loose spirit, but this one was tricky. Liked to scare victims with their greatest fear or loss. You make a note in your head to warn the manager. 

You’re interrupted by one of the maids wheeling in your order. Squealing in delight, you dismiss her with a wave. You easily pop open the bottle of luxurious champagne, indulging in the sound of the fizz. Pouring a glass, you hear a familiar voice echoing, getting closer. Your face automatically darkens. 

“Miss y/l/n, what are you doing?” You scowl, raising the glass to your ruby lips. After taking a sip, you let out a satisfied exhale. Slowly turning to face the person who was the bane of your existence, you let out a small tch! “I was enjoying myself before you interrupted, Kim Sunwoo.” He automatically frowns in disapproval. “It’s Manager Kim, you know. You’re the one who hired me for the job. Actually, more like forced me.” You roll your eyes, muttering, “against my will...” 

Sunwoo claps his hands. “So, what kind of ghost are we seeing today?” You gulp the rest of the drink down. “Wandering spirit. But I warn you, this one’s a little feisty.” 

He looks at you curiously, “What is it this time? Revenge, lost lover?” You sigh again, standing up and stopping in front of Sunwoo. Leaning in, you whisper into his ear, “They'll show you what causes you your greatest pain. I’ll tell you now, I'd be careful. It would be the fastest record for a new manager if you don’t watch out... ” Stepping back, you notice him shiver. You walk to the doors, grabbing your latest purse that you bought behind his back. "Don't forget the keys to my new Ferrari, I want to take it for a test drive!"

  ✵ 

Once you arrive at the abandoned church, you shut the car door close, lowering your thirty-five thousand dollar sunglasses to get a better look at the place. Sunwoo stands next to you, taking it all in. He turns to you. “Should I go first? Or?” His face seems relaxed, but you know him well enough to tell that he’s scared. “No,” you reply, curt. “I’ll go.” 

You push the doors open with a bang, eyes scanning over the old place. It was dusty, cold, dark. Sunwoo follows in after you, voice echoing, “What kind of place was this?” You examine a rotten bench, dust floating in the air as you hum softly. “Old church. Used to be very popular until the rumors of a ghost spread and it was abandoned.” 

Sunwoo walks down the path before turning around to you so his back was facing the altar. “Do you think-“ but you don’t pay attention to the rest of his sentence as you zero in on who’s behind him. Specifically, what. It was the spirit you were looking for. To anyone else, it would be a horrifying, monstrous demon girl, but to you, it’s just an annoyance. She stares at Sunwoo’s back, a chilling smirk appearing on her face. You glance back at him as you see her change into a horrifying picture in the corner of your eyes. 

Sunwoo’s staring at you, confused at what you’re looking at and beginning to turn his head. You immediately call out his name, desperate. He can’t look at the image behind him. You effectively get his attention, his attention moving back to you again. He’s saying something, but you ignore it and rush forward. 

Wrapping your arms around him, you place a hand behind his head, keeping it from turning. His arms instinctively hover above your waist. “Y/n- what-“ but you tighten your grip on him. “Whatever you do, do not turn around,” you softly murmur into his ear. 

Your eyes are still focused on the spirit, the monstrous image. You think it's Sunwoo’s parents. Murdered, brutally. Their bodies floating midair and the look of pure terror present on their faces. You had no idea if this was what actually happened or not, but you keep your grip on him tight. 

You remember the words said years ago. Sunwoo’s parents were gone from a young age. That’s what your former manager and Sunwoo’s grandfather told you. It was only him and his grandparents from a young age. You would never admit it, but you always held a soft spot in your locked away heart (if you even still had one) for the former Manager Kim. So when he asked, no-begged, for you to take his grandson as your next manager when he was old enough, you had to accept. You warned him about the repercussions, but he only let out a small smile and assured you Sunwoo was strong and especially stubborn enough. 

✵

"That boy will take care of you well." You scoff, twirling a piece of your hair. "And how old did you say he was?" Manager Kim only smiles. "Of no matter, the age. After all, it is just a number. You would know that best, wouldn't you, Miss y/l/n?" You turn your head aside, suddenly staring at a painting of interest. He continues. "I think you two will get along quite fine." Your eyes flick back to him. "But he has a soft heart, so I beg you to be a little less harsh on him. He's already lost so much from a young age.."

✵

The words echo in your head. That’s why you couldn’t let Sunwoo turn around. You didn’t know the details -it was a sensitive topic- but you were sure this might break him. You feel him shaking. “Is it the spirit?” he asks quietly. “Yes,” you reply, “Don’t you dare look.” You feel him bury his face in your neck as you focus your attention on the spirit, mouthing commands and chants. 

She hisses a horrible screeching sound before you’re finally able to control her, and the image collapses, something dropping on the ground. You carefully loosen your grip, leaning back to look at Sunwoo. 

You don’t know what it is, maybe the vulnerable expression on his face that makes you want to protect him forever or the way his dark eyes bore into yours, but you slowly lean in, softly placing your lips on his forehead between his styled hair. Sunwoo blinks, staring at you with a dazed expression. You're not sure how long you look at him until you come to your senses. It's a moment before you step back, walking over to pick up the tiny keychain that fell. 

When you turn around to Sunwoo, he clears his throat. “Well.. I guess we’re done here,” Your eyes follow him walking to the exit, knowing he’s slightly shaken.  

  It’s in the car, when he asks, “Can I know, what it was?” “Nope,” you reply as you examine the keychain. He frowns, turning on the engine. “But-“ “Unless you want to be sent to a mental hospital and never work for me again, then no. But that would’ve actually been pretty nice for me..” you say, pouting slightly.  

Sunwoo looks at you, annoyed. “Hey! But, how come the spirit didn’t show you your greatest fear or anything ?” You scoff. “Cause you’re just a weak human who has emotions, and I’m a dead person who doesn’t feel things, idiot.” He turns to look at you, indignant. “What do you mean you don't feel things? Doesn't this make you feel something?” He suddenly leans in, face less than an inch away from yours. You freeze. You catch his eyes glancing down at your lips. Why does it suddenly feel so hot?

You immediately snap out of it, smacking his chest. "Ah, idiot! Just drive, just drive!" you yell angrily, trying to hide the fact that you were flustered. He immediately laughs, a grin appearing on his face as he turns the car on.  The two of you continue to bicker as Sunwoo drives on. 

✵

You two were in your office later that night, organizing a giant stack of papers you neglected. You told Sunwoo to go home and get sleep since he was still a human and needed the rest, but he firmly insisted on helping you, stating, “I know you’re gonna just give up after five minutes and leave it messier than before.” 

It’s silent. The only thing heard was the sound of papers shuffling. You’re examining a document, Was this really 50 years ago? when Sunwoo calls your name. 

You look up. “What?” you demand.  He puts some papers down, before sitting on your plush, fancy couch, and looking at you. You can't read the expression on his face. “What’ll happen when I die? Or even, you move on to the afterlife?” 

You stare at him. Why was he suddenly asking if he already knew the answer? Clearing your throat, you move to sit beside him. “Well, I’ll have to get a new manager. Life continues. And... if I leave, you’ll return back to your normal life, like all other humans.” Sunwoo fiddles with his tie, and you notice. He never liked wearing ties, but you forced him to for the job. “That’s it?” he says, “you’ll just get a new manager?” 

You frown. What’s going on with him? Sunwoo was mischievous, witty, stubborn. So why was he acting so fidgety and shy? “Yeah, why? That’s how it is.” You pause, adding, “Unless I go first. But who knows when fate will relieve me of my duty.” 

Sunwoo mumbles something you can’t hear. You move closer to him. “Hmm??” He clears his throat before saying softly, “So you won’t ever think of me when I’m gone? Remember me?” Your eyes widen. Huh? His ears are red, and he isn't looking you in the eye. “I-I mean, I know one day I’ll be gone, you’ll be gone..." You interrupt him, turning his body so he's facing you. "Sunwoo, what's going on? Why are you suddenly saying this? Was it because of what happened earlier?" You look deep into his eyes as if you'll find an answer in there.  

He swallows, looking down at your feet. Hesitating, he finally speaks. "What if my greatest pain was not being able to stay by your side?" 

Your body stills, heart skipping a beat. Slowly turning to face him, you realize how close the two of you are. “You.. you shouldn't worry about losing me. But if I ever make you feel that way, find the moon.” Sunwoo furrows his eyebrows, speaking softly. “Why the moon?” 

You look out the window, staring at the moon outside which was partly covered by clouds. His eyes follow yours to the sky. “Even if my moon is in a different world from yours, even if my moon is a thousand years away from yours, it’s always there.” You turn to him once more.

 “Just like how I'll always be there too.”

[ranmanjuu]

titled “shin shin”.txt

came across a post... a long, long while ago about a god of death type reader and got super interested, since of all the cyikemen games, ikesen is the one most surrounded by death on a larger scale (cause, war and stuff), so i wrote this at... 2020? almost one year before, at 21th of july. i had more of it written, but i really didn’t like it cause it felt too “quirky wattpad reader” and plus me just copying from the original prlogue without adding anything, so... yeah. enjoy!

(also, very important that anyone who wants to do whatever with this idea, feel free, no need to ask me)

You didn’t like your existence

To call it “your life” would be simply wrong; you don’t breathe, you don’t eat, you don’t sleep. All you are is a walking, talking existence that has a job to do until you fade away. You didn’t even like your job.

To lead a soul from their death to the Land of the Dead was a grim job. You learnt their regrets, their anger, their sadness, all which you knew was personal. But you had to be there. You had to ensure that their soul is at peace, so when the time comes to cross to the afterlife, they don’t get reincarnated as a ghost, stuck forever with their past emotions.

Shinigami, was your kinds’ name. God of Death.

You were a part of the blanket term ‘yokai’, or as some would call in other names such as ‘ayakashi’. Those who fall under the category were spirits, demons, animal-like creatures, or, similar to you, gods. For as long as you’ve known, supernatural creatures didn’t mesh with humans well most of the time.

Fear of unknown from both parties led to anger, rashness, and cut communication and involvement altogether for perhaps half your life.

You’ve existed for long; you stopped remembering the exact number after 1.000 years. All you did now was remember the year you came to the world, and do the math. But that doesn’t matter much, does it? The only thing you concerned yourself with is when you’ll fade away.

However, for your own sake, you do take a break. Such a job is heavy for the heart, and a walk doesn’t help as much, but it’s a nice thing nonetheless.

Kyoto. You were just done leading a soul that got caught in a traffic accident. You never traveled outside of the country, but would it really matter if you did? You still appreciated everything as it were; there has to be some light in a life to look forward to.

This particular city was rich in human history, you knew that. Maybe it’d be a fun thing to do, even if you didn’t have much an interest in it.

“All your famous warlord knowledge, packed in a mag! Come get one now!” A boy’s shouts filled the nearby streets, attracting attention from the occasional passerby’s. Including you. A Quick Guide To Your Warlords, the magazine read on the cover. Sounds interesting, and you were bored, so you took one and stuffed it in your pocket.

With a blank mind, you were brought forth to a temple by your wandering legs. Honno-ji. A small, quiet, quaint place. The setting sky burned up above as the small cries of the crickets sounded all around.

You’ve heard some stories of the small memorial in front of you. One of the unifiers of Japan died here—betrayed, as you remembered. But you can’t draw an exact name.

While drowning in your thoughts, the approaching presence coming to you was acknowledged but not paid mind to further. Until you shift your eyes to the side as said figure was in your peripheral vision—a man dressed in a lab coat. The two of you said no words, only continuing to gaze at the stone in front of you.

You only started to react when the sky above you turned darker and darker—not by the setting sun, but by the awfully black and almost purple clouds gathering up above you. That’s unusual, you’ve never seen anything like that in your life.

The once bright and bold sky now rained down drops of water on your face. You didn’t even notice you shifted to your human form—and a look at your hands covered in specks of droplets confirmed that.

“What poor timing.” The man next to you said, causing your eyes to glance at him. He looked solemnly to the monument, then to you, “Are you alright? Do you have an umbrella?”

“No, unfortunately. I didn’t expect it to rain. . .” your eyes linger to above his head, where a set of numbers and a small text was visible to you only. The death profile, as the others call. A set of information that shinigamis can see in most creatures, usually entailing their names, time of death, and cause of it.

It’s a cursing bit of information; always reminding you of what you are.

Out of nowhere, a thunder ripped through the clouds and hit directly on the small monument—a loud crackle following along. Your arm flew up to protect the man next to you by reflex, as your body stood there in momentary shock. You’ve seen death by  lightning, but that was unlikely to happen now.

You whipped your head towards the human next to you, who seems the slightest bit appalled, but stood his ground. A strange thing catches your attention. . .

His death date. It’s flickering—changing.

From a century where he was supposed to die. . .to the 15-16th century.

A date of death changing has been a rare thing that happens, however unlikely, but—it’s never jumped that far before! To the past, too?

Utter shock froze you in place as the numbers flicker back and forth, leading your attention away from everything else—him asking you if you were okay, and most importantly—

—the black ball that formed where the stone was.

“Watch ou—“ before you can warn the man, the image of him next to you twisted and distorted, slowly getting sucked in whatever it was.

And so were you.

Wait! He isn’t supposed to die yet—!

The world faded to black.

       Ugh. . .my head. . .

Your vision fades in and out, clear then blurry, until you’re finally wide awake. The scenery around you changed drastically, what was first a small place in the city of Kyoto is now. . .a dark forest. You’ve seen this kind of environment before in your memories—you just don’t know how you got here.

The lab coat guy—!

You immediately stood up from the dirt beneath you, looking around and trying to sense his soul around you. Nothing. Pursing your lips in slight unease, you started making your way through the criminally underlighted woods.

You’ve roamed around in the forest before. Most of your time on this world, you didn’t settle in a house or anything, you preferred to just wander around like a lost ghost. You didn’t have a need for one—you don’t need shelter, not food, not clothes, nor drinks. You were a lost ghost.

The branches and rocks and whatever else you tripped on didn’t bother you. All you were focusing on is now just. . .walking. Without even a set destination. The only guidance you had was the occasional moonlight that peeked through the trees up above.

As minutes pass by, you start feeling a faint presence of human souls.

It’s distant, and not much from how weak it is, but I should go and see.

All other senses were rendered useless for now as you focused on the source of the souls, and slowly marched your way to it. It grew closer and closer, until you saw a faint light coming in the middle of the forest.

Two people, you now concluded. Your footsteps remained silent and your presence unknown as you creep near the light.

A fire was set in a small clearing, and you can now see the two people. A man with dark hair, dressed in monk’s clothes and a scar marking his face, with another feminime-looking boy, purple-haired in armor.

“Are you ready for this, Ranmaru?” The monk spoke in a low voice. “You’re about to kill the demon. Bring him down for good.”

Kill, huh. An assassination was about to commence.

“. . .Yes, Master Kennyo.” The boy—Ranmaru—spoke, wavering in unease but still tried to be certain.

‘Master Kennyo’ smiled; a bitter, unresting one, “Good. They’ve light the fire at Honno-ji, arrive there and kill him. I will follow shortly once the fire has spread,”

“. . .Understood.”

Clutching his sword until it shook in his hand, Ranmaru turned around and walked off from the clearing.

You overheard the conversation and calmly watched his figure fade away. It isn’t your place to intervene—not if this is fate, but even so—you’ll follow him. At least you can rest the soul of the victim.

In silent steps trailing him, you heard a last piece from Kennyo. “Finally, we’ll have our revenge. . .”

      You took your time in following Ranmaru’s path. If whoever’s assassinated dies, it’s soul will still remain until they can go to the afterlife. Time stops for them as long as it takes to get their soul guided away from the living land. Is it immoral in a way? Perhaps.

Unless. . .you can stop them from getting killed. But often when you try to intervene, the death happens either way.

So what’s the point?

Nihilistic thoughts aside, you sensed more human souls coming your way; five, from what you can tell. But you paid no mind to that. Until it got nearer, and nearer, and nearer, and—

“Oof.” In your blank stated mind, you bumped into someone, causing them to huff in surprise. You yourself paused and looked—a brown haired man wearing red armor, “Hey, watch where you’re going—!”

His complaints died on his tongue as soon as he finally saw who he bumped into. His expression, from a slightly irritated frown, turned more into one of confusion, “Huh? Hey, what’s someone like you doing here in the woods? Nighttime, also? Such weird clothing, too. . .”

His spoken words made you raise an eyebrow, “Ignoring all that, I’m sorry for bumping into you. I just had some business is all.”

“In the dead of night? What are you, an. . .enchantress? Those stories of w-witches in the forest?” The man’s voice wavered more with each passing word. The quirk in your eyebrow deepens.

“I assure you, I’m not—“

“Yuki~! We leave you for a few seconds and you’ve already found yourself a partner?” A velvet and rich voice arose from behind the dark bushes and trees, all of them being pushed aside to reveal an auburn haired man, this one more built in his body.

The one you’ve been talking to—Yuki—blushed and shook his head vehemently, “Ugh, no! I’m not like you; we just bumped into each other is all. And I think it’s some kind of witch, too—”

The redhead man tutted at Yuki in a disapproving manner, “Now, now, Yuki. Have I not taught you how to talk properly in front of such a beauty all this time?” His attention turns to you, and in a second, his eyes lit in passion, “Forgive me for his prudeness, my goddess, dear Yuki needs a lot more lessons than I thought. However. . .if you want to be with a real man, I’m always up for service.”

“Will you stop flirting with everything you meet. It’s disgusting.”

Three more people emerge from the shadows, the small bits of moonlight pouring to their features. The one who spoke was a blond one, cladded in blue armor and with eyes that said he wanted to have nothing to do with any of this.

“But Kenshin, you can’t just turn away at such a beauty laid in front of your eyes.” The flirt replied to the cold comment with a smirk.

“Stop. Or I’ll kill you.”

The bickering of the two were left unnoticed as another man with dark blue hair stepped up, far closer than what you were expecting. His hand reaches and caresses lightly on your clothes, “I have never seen such a design or material like this before. How fascinating. Would you like to switch with one of my kimonos?”

“Yoshimoto, I’ve already claimed them! Don’t steal them right under my nose.” Flirt Man threw a light complaint, turning away from Kenshin for a moment.

“Art is to be appreciated by everyone, Shingen.” Yoshimoto simply responds, now tugging lightly at the sleeves of your shirt.

Okay, you’ll admit it. You’re slightly overwhelmed.

So far, you haven’t said anything, mainly because you don’t want to. It feels like anything you say won’t make the situation better anyway. But still. . .even in your long life, this is quite bizzare.

You observed each of them one by one. Then your eyes landed to the last one, the same brown haired man you saw earlier. Now, in. . .some sort of ninja attire. While you tilted your head in slight curiosity, you’re at least satisfied to see he was safe.

And his death date has changed, too. . .

Speaking of death, you’re finally reminded of following. . .who was it, Ranmaru? to an assassination.

Gently freeing yourself from Yoshimoto’s admiring touches to your clothes, you bowed slightly in front of them, “I appreciate meeting all of you, but I have to go.”

You don’t see Sasuke opening his mouth to say something, and neither do the others, as you walked off to the darkness.

       You thought by losing your way from your unofficial guide, you wouldn’t find the destination. But luckily, even going in the same direction as he did led you to it. Honno-ji. This time, it’s in the midst of drowning in fire. You made your way through the front door and entered where the fire wouldn’t reach you—but it wouldn’t make a difference anyway.

And in the middle of the room not yet entirely covered in flames, was who you assume the victim, sleeping. The cause of death, “died in an assassination while the building was set on fire”, said as much. Dressed in black armor, you could tell he was important, somehow. Not everyone can casually wear one, despite the past few people you’ve met been donning it.

The text displayed above the man’s head displayed the same old. Nobunaga Oda.

On the other side, you see a silhouette approaching steadily, sword in hand. Ranmaru, you guessed. You double checked yourself to make sure you weren’t visible to the human’s eye, and you were just fine with watching another death as you have—

Until, for the second time today, the death date for Nobunaga Oda flickered.

You froze as what was 21st of July, 1582, blinked into a later date. Much later.

What. . .?! That was the second time today—what am I supposed to—

Your chest felt heavy, and your hands trembled in uncertainty of what you should do. Do you save him? Watch him die? Would he even die at this moment? Or would it be later? You’ve never been in this position—the answer was always clear. And now you’re terrified.

Your body swayed back and forth violently, as two sides fought in your head of what to do. But time was running out—he’d be assassinated if you didn’t take this chance. And he’d die. That’s the same as you killing him, you thought, and you’ve sworn to never do such a thing.

From your disarrayed thoughts, your legs moved on their own and walked to him. You’re saving him, then.

[mcwriting]

The Marriage Project (8)

Hello, hello, hello! Here’s chapter 8 after a long break since chapter 7! If you haven’t all ready, make sure you go check out the prologue to Sweet Home Alabama once you’re done here, as I may post the first chap very soon!

Story Masterlist

Word Count: 2178

Warnings: Some language? I can’t think of anything else

% approximately the 3rd week of October %

You hadn’t really told anyone what you’d been doing Sunday, and especially left out the part where you were with Tom.

Once getting home the previous night, you’d quickly taken off your makeup and brushed your teeth before essentially passing out on your bed. You’d also snoozed your alarm enough times that you’d had to rush to school that morning, getting to class with only a minute to spare.

In the afternoon, your friends sat around a lunch table discussing how your weekends had gone.

“Mine was pretty boring. How about yours, y/n?” Caroline asked.

“It was fine. Mostly did homework. Oh, and I took some senior pictures yesterday, but that’s it.”

“Oh that’s why your hair is straight?” someone else asked.

“Yeah, I got home late and woke up late so I just tossed on some jeans this morning.”

“Where even were you? Your snap maps said you were at the lake,” Alexis stated. 

To say that question made you nervous was an understatement. You didn’t want to give anything away so you tried to keep it vague.

“Oh, yeah. The photographer knew of a place out there we could go so I said yes.”

“Who was your photographer? I’ve been looking to get pictures done,” Caroline said.

Well, there goes ambiguity.

“Hah, well, Nikki Holland.”

“Isn’t that Tom’s mom?” Alexis asked, squinting at you. You sighed.

“Yes. I’ve been at their house a lot for the project and her whole career is photography so she asked me if I wanted her to do my pictures for free. I couldn’t turn that down.

“So that’s why you and Tom were at the same location yesterday!” Alexis exclaimed.

“What! Keep your voice down!”

“So it’s true? You and Tom took your senior pictures together? I was waiting until you’d admit why you were together.”

“Okay there are so many things I need to address but firstly, we did not take them together, we just did them at the same time. And secondly, since when do you have Tom on snap?”

Alexis rubbed the back of her neck and looked away. Everyone else looked surprised and kept quiet.

“Remember sophomore year when I went to that party while you were out of town? And I told you I made out with someone? Well….”

“ALEXIS!”

“I was drunk, okay? By the next day I realized how gross it was, but I kept him on snap so I could keep tabs for when we talked trash about him.”

You folded your arms across your chest and stared blankly across the table at your best friend.

“And you just didn’t think to tell me that you, I don’t know, made out with my mortal enemy and have had him on snap for the past 2 years?”

“I thought you’d be mad at me! Obviously it was the one time, and we’ve never sent each other a single snap. This was about you anyways and how you and Tom spent yesterday together. Where were you, actually?” Alexis asked, looking at you expectantly. You rolled your eyes.

“His grandparents have a lake house, okay? His mom planned the whole thing and the leaves were pretty colors, so it was whatever.”

“Hm, I guess so…” Alexis trailed, giving you one final look of “this conversation isn’t over” before someone brought up a different topic.

%

With volleyball regionals that upcoming weekend and Tom having an away game, you and he decided to work together that Thursday at his place.

You quickly rinsed off after practice and headed over to his house where he was waiting at the door. 

“Took you awhile,” he commented as you came up the sidewalk.

“Yeah, sorry. I got caught talking to coach about this weekend. It also takes forever to get these leggings on right out of the shower,” you joked, gesturing down at your athletic pants.

You got to work pretty quickly as there was a lot to do as compared to normal. By the time you finished, it was almost dinnertime.

“Oh, I think my mom finished all those pictures if you want them. Let’s go find her,” Tom suggested, leading you downstairs.

Her and Dom were in the kitchen cooking together. It was sweet watching them interact.

“Hey, mom? Did you say you had that flash drive done?” Tom interrupted, causing both parents to turn.

“Yes! I’m glad you reminded me. Dom, hold down the fort while I go get that.”

She led you to her office, then dug around her desk until she found it, handing it to you.

“You know, dinner will be ready in probably 10 minutes. You’re free to eat with us tonight,” she offered.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You never impose on us! And absolutely, we always make more than enough food so the boys can take leftovers to school.”

Well if you’re sure… I’ll text my mom and make sure she doesn’t mind.”

She didn’t, so as you waited for dinner, you sat down on a living room couch, Tom taking a recliner nearby. From the corner of your eye you saw Paddy walk in the room and freeze when he saw you.

“Y/n! Lovely to see you on this fine evening,” he greeted, sitting tentatively on the other end of the couch. You held back a chuckle at his word choice.

“And you as well, sir. How was your day?” you asked, trying to get him out of his shell. 

His eyes widened as he told you all about his school day. You prepared to reply when Dom came and announced the food was done.

You followed everyone to the dining room and stood watching, not wanting to accidentally take someone’s seat.

“Oh, you can sit here, y/n,” Paddy said, pulling out a seat for you in the middle of the table. You glanced to Tom, who was rolling his eyes.

“Thanks, Paddy. What a gentleman you are,” you complimented as he helped tuck in your chair. He took the seat on the left of you as Tom sat on your right. Directly across from you were Sam, then Harry and Dom on either side. Nikki took the head.

“Y/n, why don’t you get what you want first,” Nikki suggested, gesturing over the food. There was spaghetti, salad, and bread. You got only a little bit of each thing, trying to be polite.

“That’s all you want? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you eat more on the bus to soccer games than that,” Tom commented. You raised your eyebrows at him and nudged his knee with yours.

“Thomas! Don’t be rude! Y/n, you’re free to however much or little you’d like. You can always go back for more later, too.”

Dinner went relatively smoothly aside from that, most of the conversation being centered on you as different family members wanted to know different things (Paddy especially as he’d trained his eyes on you almost the entire evening). For the most part, Tom was quiet except to crack a few jokes or answer something you asked him.

As everyone was finishing their meals, you offered to help clean up.

“Oh, no, don’t worry. It’s Tom’s job to do the dishes tonight,” Dom told you.

“I don’t mind helping him. I can dry if nothing else.”

After being reminded a few times that you shouldn't feel the need to, you went with Tom to the kitchen anyways, holding a towel. 

“You really don’t have to help me, you know. You’re technically our guest,” he said as the sink filled with water.

“Seriously, I don’t mind. I have nothing better to do anyways since I finished my homework.”

You worked together pretty much silently, falling into a comfortable rhythm. As you set down the last plate, Tom spoke up.

“Hey y/n, think fast.”

“Wha- TOM!” you exclaimed, as he had shot water at you, making the front of your shirt wet. “Oh you are so dead for that!” 

You jumped on his back, pressing your wet shirt against him, causing his own shirt to dampen. He thrashed around, the both of you laughing.

“What the hell is going on in- oh,” said Sam, who entered the room. 

You both froze in place, you quickly sliding off Tom as Sam looked at you skeptically.

“Your brother just sprayed me with the faucet, so I was getting back at him,” you tried to convince him. It is what happened after all.

“Right... I was just coming to grab something from the drawer, so I’ll leave you all to it,” he said awkwardly as he dug around the drawer and quickly made his leave. 

You and Tom both looked at each other awkwardly before bursting into laughter.

“You know you’re lucky this is a dark shirt,” you said after a moment.

“Am I though?”

“TOM!”

%

When you got home a little bit later, you decided to plug in your flash drive and look at all the pictures Nikki had taken. You were marveling at her work when your phone started buzzing. It was Alexis.

“Hey, what’s up?” you picked up, confused as to why she’d call on a Thursday night.

“Hey. I saw that you were home so I figured I was good to call. Are you alone?”

“Yes, and why do you need me alone?”

She paused.

“Look, y/n, I’m sorry for bringing that stuff up about Tom in front of the girls Monday, but, since I don’t know when I’ll be able to get you alone again, I need to ask you something.”

“Okay what is going on?” You’re scaring me a little.”

“I hate to be the one to ask this, because I know you and we came up with that whole revenge thing at the beginning of the semester but… do you… have feelings for Tom?”

You were taken aback at her question.

“What! Me have feelings for Tom? Are you crazy?”

She sighed.

“Well it’s just that, you two are always together now, your usual bickering has turned into normal banter, and you literally traveled to take pictures with him last weekend. It just seems like something else is there, and the whole school is starting to pick up on it.”

Ironically, you had frozen on a picture of you and Tom from Sunday, one of you standing in your sports uniforms back to back.

“Okay so maybe we’re kind of friends now, but that doesn’t mean I like him! And how many times do I have to say that the pictures were just at the same time?”

“Then explain to me why his mom’s website has multiple pictures of you two together?”

Your blood ran cold and stomach dropped.

“Wait, what?” you breathed, immediately going to pull up her page. Like Alexis said, a picture of the two of you posing was at the top of the home page. It was the same one you’d been looking at before. “Oh, no,” you whispered.

“Are you seeing it?” she asked.

You gulped.

“Yep. But, it’s not that bad, right? I mean she takes tons of sports pictures and we look super serious. It’s not like we’re standing with our arms wrapped around each other or anything.” you rationalized, half joking at the end of your sentence.

“You might want to scroll down, then…”

You went past a photo of just you on the dock railing in your jumpsuit to find one of Tom lifting you over his shoulder, but of you laughing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered.

“Are you sure you’ve got nothing to tell me? I’ve had lots of guy friends and most of them don't do that to me.”

“Yes, Alexis, I’m sure. He was getting back at me for something and acted like he was gonna throw me in the lake. I didn’t realize Nikki took any pictures of it. I’ll ask Tom about it.”

“If you say so… I’ll believe you. But you do know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Of course I do, and I’m telling you right now that nothing has happened or will ever happen. We’re just friends, okay? Now I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow?” you finished.

“Okay, see you tomorrow,” she signed off, ending the call.

You felt another pit in your stomach thinking about how you’d lied to her. You definitely didn’t have feelings, but why didn’t you tell Alexis about that moment you’d had in his room a couple weeks back, or how you'd fallen asleep on his shoulder Sunday night, or even how you’d accidentally seen him naked?

Because she’d think there’s something there.

But there isn’t.

But..?

You shook the thoughts away as you texted Tom, asking him to take a glance at his mom’s website.

“Omg I have no idea why she used the third picture. I’ll see if she’ll change it” he answered. 

You were glad he would save your asses like that, but felt a twinge of sadness for it to be replaced. You almost didn’t mind it being there.

%

A/N: another long awaited marriage project! I have been working so hard to get this out while going through rewrites and working on sweet home alabama, but hopefully this will hold y’all over for now. As always, thank you so much and feel free to hit up my asks any time!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Story tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads, 

[ireadyabooks]

Books to Read in 2021

It’s a NEW YEAR, everyone! 

We made it through 2020, and whether or not you hit your reading goal this past year, don’t worry! 2021 is a new year for your TBR, and we have an AMAZING line-up of books you should add to your reading list ASAP.

THE LIFE I’M IN 

This story of the power of forgiveness and second chances presents the unflinching story of a young woman trapped in the underworld of human trafficking. In Sharon G. Flake's latest and unflinching novel, we follow Charlese Jones, who, with her raw, blistering voice speaks the truths many girls face, offering insight to some of the causes and conditions that make a bully. Turned out of the only home she has known, Char boards a bus to nowhere where she is lured into the dangerous web of human trafficking.

HOLD BACK THE TIDE

A darkly seductive story of murder, betrayal, love, and family secrets in a small town in the Scottish Highlands. Alva knows that her father killed her mother, but she can’t prove it. The more she investigates though, the more she realizes that the truth can be more monstrous than lies/ And while you might be able to outrun anything that emerges from the dark water, you can never escape your past . . .

MUTED 

Denver is more than ready on the day she and her best friends Dali and Shak sing their way into the orbit of the biggest R&B star in the world, Sean "Mercury" Ellis. Merc gives them everything: parties, perks, wild nights -- plus hours and hours in the recording studio. Even the painful sacrifices and the lies the girls have to tell are all worth it. Until they're not. Denver begins to realize that she's trapped in Merc's world, struggling to hold on to her own voice. As the dream turns into a nightmare, she must make a choice: lose her big break, or get broken.

THE POETRY OF SECRETS

A lyrical portrait of hidden identities and forbidden love set against the harrowing backdrop of the Spanish Inquisition. Isabel’s dreams to pursue poetry and a partner of her own choosing are thrown into jeopardy when the Spanish Inquisition reaches her small town. 

SHURI #2: THE VANISHED 

Shuri, the Princess of Wakanda (and sister to the Black Panther), sets out to save a group of kidnapped girls in this all-new, original novel by New York Times bestselling author Nic Stone!

BRIDGE OF SOULS

Where there are ghosts, Cassidy Blake follows . . .unless it's the other way around? Cass thinks she might have this ghost-hunting thing down. But nothing can prepare Cass for New Orleans, which wears all of its hauntings on its sleeve. And the city's biggest surprise is a foe Cass never expected to face: a servant of Death itself.

FOLLOW YOUR ARROW

When bisexual influencer CeCe breaks up with her girlfriend, Silvie, she’s devastated. But then she starts falling for a new guy who has no idea she’s internet famous...and CeCe wants to keep it that way. But as her secrets catch up to her, she finds herself in the middle of an online storm, where she'll have to confront the blurriness of public vs. private life, and figure out what it really means to speak her truth.   

MIRROR’S EDGE

The danger rises and the deception grows in the heart-stopping third book in the New York Times bestselling Impostors series! Are twins Frey and Rafi on the same side . . . or are they playing to their own agendas? If their father is deposed from Shreve, who will take control? And what other forces may be waiting in the wings?

ZARA HOSSAIN IS HERE

Zara's family has waited years for their visa process to be finalized so that they can officially become US citizens. While dealing with the Islamophobia that she faces at school, Zara has to lay low. But when her tormentor vandalizes her house with racist graffiti, a violent crime puts Zara’s entire future at risk. Now she must pay the ultimate price and choose between fighting to stay in the only place she's ever called home or losing the life she loves and everyone in it.

REMEDY

It's a mystery - why is Cara so sick? It feels like she's been sick all her life . . . but she and her mom have never stayed in one place long enough for doctors to really understand what's happening to her. Now, at fourteen, Cara is tired of being tired, and sick of being sick. Unable to afford the care she needs, Cara's mom starts a Caring for Cara campaign online. The money starts pouring in. But something's not right to Cara. And the harder she looks, the less she understands.

HEARTSTOPPER VOLUME 3

The third volume in the poignant and sweet Heartstopper series, featuring beautiful two-color artwork! Charlie didn't think Nick could ever like him back, but now they're officially boyfriends. Nick has even found the courage to come out to his mom. But coming out isn't something that happens just once, and Nick and Charlie try to figure out when to tell their friends that they're dating. Not being out to their classmates gets even harder during a school trip to Paris. As Nick and Charlie's feelings get more serious, they'll need each other more than ever.

THE BLOCK

In the second book of The Loop trilogy, Luka is trapped in a fate worse than death. But now that he knows the truth about what he and his fellow inmates are being used for, it's more important than ever that he not only escapes, but that he builds an army.

ON THE HOOK

Hector has always minded his own business while he works towards a better life. Until Joey, whose older brother, Chavo, is head of the Discípulos gang, tells Hector that he's going to kill him: maybe not today, or tomorrow, but someday. And Hector, frozen with fear, does nothing. From that day forward, Hector's death is hanging over his head every time he leaves the house. But when a fight between Chavo and Hector's brother escalates, Hector is left with no choice but to take a stand. It's up to Hector to choose whether he's going to lose himself to revenge or get back to the hard work of living.

MISTER IMPOSSIBLE

Do the dreamers need the ley lines to save the world . . . or will their actions end up dooming the world? As Ronan, Hennessy, and Bryde try to make dreamers more powerful, the Moderators are closing in, sure that this power will bring about disaster. In the remarkable second book of The Dreamer Trilogy, Maggie Stiefvater pushes her characters to their limits – and shows what happens to them and others when they start to break.

THE GHOSTS WE KEEP 

Everything happens for a reason.At least that's what everyone keeps telling Liam Cooper after his older brother Ethan is killed suddenly in a hit-and-run. Feeling more alone and isolated than ever, Liam has to not only learn to face the world without one of the people he loved the most, but also face the fading relationships of his two best friends in the process. Soon, Liam finds themself spending time with Ethan's best friend, Marcus, who might just be the only person that seems to know exactly what they're going through - for better and for worse.

SIMONE BREAKS ALL THE RULES

Simone is shaking things up by making a bucket list of everything she hasn’t been able to do thanks to her strict Haitian immigrant parents. But as the list takes on a life of its own, things get much more complicated than Simone expected. She'll have to discover which rules are worth breaking, and which might save her from heartbreak.

SPEAK FOR YOURSELF

Skylar is ready to show everyone that her latest app is brilliant by winning an academic competition. To do that, she's going to use it to win State at the Scholastic Exposition, the nerdiest academic competition around. But when she falls for one of her team members and things get complicated, is her path to greatness over before it begins?

THE GIRL FROM THE SEA

A graphic novel about family, romance, and first love! Morgan's biggest secret is that she has a lot of secrets, including the one about wanting to kiss another girl. Then one night, Morgan is saved from drowning by a mysterious girl named Keltie. The two become friends and suddenly life on the island doesn't seem so stifling anymore. But Keltie has some secrets of her own. And as the girls start to fall in love, everything they're each trying to hide will find its way to the surface...whether Morgan is ready or not.

RISE TO THE SUN

Three days. Two girls. One life-changing music festival. Toni is reeling in the wake of the loss of her roadie father and desperate to figure out where her life will go from here. Olivia is a hopeless romantic whose heart has just taken a beating (again). When the two collide at the Farmland Music and Arts Festival, it feels like kismet. But when something goes wrong and the festival is sent into a panic, Toni and Olivia find that they need each other, and the music, more than they ever imagined.

YOU & ME AT THE END OF THE WORLD

Hannah Ashton wakes up to silence. The entire city around her is empty, except for one other person: Leo Sterling. Leo might be the hottest boy ever (and not just because he's the only one left), but he's also too charming, too selfish, and too devastating for his own good, let alone Hannah's. Together, they search for answers amid crushing isolation. But while their empty world may appear harmless . . . it's not. Because nothing is quite as it seems, and if Hannah and Leo don't figure out what's going on, they might just be torn apart forever.

IN THE SAME BOAT 

Sadie is ready for the race of a lifetime: The Texas River Odyssey. But then her brother ditches her and she has to pair up with her former best friend, Cully. It's irritating enough that he grew up to be so attractive, but once they're on the river it turns out he's ill-prepared for such a dangerous race. But as the miles pass, the pain of the race builds, they uncover the truth about their feuding families, and Sadie's feelings for Cully begin to shift. Could this race change her life more than she ever could have imagined?

THE GREAT DESTROYERS 

In this alternate-history novel, Jo joins the Pax Games: an Olympics-style competition that pits pilots of mechas against each other. But when fighters start dying in the arena, Jo is drawn into a deadly political plot. In a global arms race between superpowers, playing out in violent games that only humanity could create, comes a chilling story of clashing titans, ruthless competition, freedom, and the girl caught in the middle of it all.

[meganlpie]

Always Sam

Based on this request from Wattpad:  Dean x demon reader the reader got turned into a demon by Crowley and is now the strongest and most feared demon now and is back for revenge and it is dean’s fault it happened because he had to choose between sam and y/n and now y/n is in love with Sam

Here you are lovelies! The first of the new requests! I do not own ANY Supernatural characters. They belong to the writers/creators of the show.

Warnings: ANGST! Mentions of death, demons, SPN magic stuff. Ya know. 

Pairings: Sam Winchester x demon!reader, enemy!Dean Winchester, mentions of Crowley. 

*F/N= fake name

You watched with a glare as once again, Dean rushed to Sam's side. Even as you were lying there dying, Dean went to Sam. You understood that they were brothers, but you had saved both their lives on countless occasions. But, as always, when given the choice between Sam or someone else, Dean ALWAYS chose Sam. Always. So, you accepted the fact that you were going to die knowing that, if there was a chance, you were going to haunt Dean Winchester for the rest of his life. That was your last thought before everything went dark.

         It seemed like mere moments later that you heard an accent you knew very well beckoning you back. "Open your eyes, Y/N. See the world as I do." You grumbled a bit, thinking you may have been dreaming, but opened your eyes all the same. Unsurprisingly, you saw Crowley staring down at you. However, you were surprised that you were in an unfamiliar place. Everything came rushing back to you as you sat up.

         "Am I-?" Crowley smirked as he continued your question, "In Hell? Give the hunter a prize. Although I don't suppose you'll be doing much hunting anymore." You glared at him, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. "Why aren't I being tortured like the other lost souls?" you snapped at him. Crowley chuckled and shook his head before conjuring a mirror.

         "Because you're tortured enough, Y/N." You glanced in the mirror and blinked, only to jump back when black eyes looked back at you from a body that wasn't yours. "A demon?" Crowley nodded. Thoughts bounced around your head as everything came crashing down around you. This was the one thing you never wanted. "Sorry about the meat suit. The boys gave you a hunter's funeral. No body for you to go back to."

         The very mentions of the Winchesters brought back your anger. Not at Sam. But at Dean. It was his fault you ended up here. His fault that you were a demon now instead of in Heaven or, better yet, alive! You ground your teeth as anger filled you in a way it never had before. The need for revenge was stronger than you'd ever felt when you were human.

         "That's it, Y/N. Give into it." You glared at him, but he merely chuckled. "This why you're already a demon. Your anger. Your resentment. It all twisted your soul and made you into the very thing you always hated. But you have power here, Y/N. Power you never dreamed. And once I teach you how to harness it, you can do practically anything." Crowley's words sound like honey and you imagined all the ways you could enact the revenge you so desperately craved.

         "What would you like to do with your new demon status?" Crowley asked. You blinked up at him with furrowed brows. There was only one answer. "Make Dean Winchester suffer."

         "Perfect," came Crowley's reply with a grin.

*time skip*

         It took months of planning, but finally you were ready to get your payback. You harnessed your powers so quickly and ferociously that every demon in Hell, other than Crowley, feared and respected you. But now it was time for you to return to Earth. "I'll be checking in," Crowley told you and you left.

         Finding the Winchesters was easy enough. The second part of your plan was a little more difficult. Getting Sam to fall for you. After losing so many people, Sam did not fall easily. But you were determined and, to make matters better, Dean "introduced" you to his brother.

         "Hey, Sammy! This is F/N. F/N, this is my brother Sam." You stuck out your hand and smiled. "Want a drink?" Dean asked and you nodded. He walked off, leaving you alone with Sam. You started up a conversation and, at the end of the night, you found yourself in Sam's motel room. That was the beginning of the end for all of you.

         For weeks after that, you and Sam texted and called whenever he wasn't hunting. Occasionally, if you happened to be in the same vicinity for "work", you and he would meet up for dinner or coffee or even just a night of passion. It was never the same thing twice with him and you hated to admit it, but you enjoyed it. Still, you plans for revenge were never far from your mind. You didn't know that Dean was keeping a close eye on you.

         You were out with Sam one night when it all came crashing down. Sam took your hands in his and met your gaze. "I love you," he stated so seriously that there was no mistaking that he meant it. Those words threw you. You hadn't been expecting them so soon, if really at all.

         "Sam I-I-" you couldn't form the words. You were a demon. Demons didn't love. Did they? You wouldn't have a chance to say anything more though because the door was practically kicked off its hinges. "Dean?" Dean walked in with his gun pointed at you.

         "Move away, Sam. That's not who we think." Sam merely stared between you and Dean. You chuckled lightly and shook your head as you looked down at the floor. "So, you finally figured it out, did ya, Dean?" you asked. You picked your head back up, flashing your black eyes.

         "What do you want with Sam?!" You rolled your eyes, flashing them back to the color they were. "Okay, so you haven't figured it out. You know, for such a good big brother, your instincts were certainly off this time. Too bad. This makes my revenge a lot less satisfying."

         "Revenge? For what?" Sam asked, holding out his hand to try and get Dean to lower the gun. "You mean you don't know?" you asked innocently before facing Dean again. "Tell him, Dean. Tell him how you always choose him over anyone else. Tell him that it's because of you I'm like this. You know, you could have at least left me my body to come back to. I miss my body." Dean looked confused for a moment before lowering the gun slightly. "Y-Y/N?"

         "BINGO! Give the man a medal!" Sam stepped in, blocking Dean from your view. "Y/N?" Your anger melted slightly as you looked at the giant of a man in front of you. "Yeah, Sam. It's me. Has been." Sam stared at you for a minute. "But why? How is this Dean's fault?"

         "You really don't know? Think back to when I died. The hunt we did. Your wounds were superficial! Dean could have saved me, but instead he chose you! He always chose you! I died angry and resentful and hurt and because of that, I came back as a demon!" you shouted, making Sam jump and causing Dean to raise the gun again.

         With a flick of your wrist, you sent the gun flying. "You know that wouldn't work on me anyway," you stated as you calmed down, moving once more to bring Dean into your line of sight. "You know," you continued, "This wasn't how I planned this. I was supposed to kill Sam, but I can't do that now."

         "Why not?" Sam asked. You turned to him with a smile. "Because, despite everything has done to me, you aren't him. And honestly? I…I care about you, Sam Winchester. I don't know if it's love. I don't think demons can love, but whatever it is, it's close to it. So, I have a better idea." Sam raised a brow.

         "You come with me and I leave Dean here to wallow in his misery." Sam opened his mouth in surprise. But you never got to hear an answer. You felt the bullet from the Colt before you heard it. How could you have forgotten about that damned gun? You crumpled to the ground, knowing you were going to die for real this time. The only one who could save you now was Crowley and he was nowhere around.

         Sam was by your side in an instant. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice cracking. You let out a wry chuckle. "See? I told you." Sam looked confused for a minute. "He will always choose you, Sam. Your life over everything, even your happiness." You groaned a little as the meat suit began dying. "You know, I think I do love you. Tell Crowley that when you see him again, okay?" you managed to mutter before the body finally gave into death.

         Sam sat there, cradling the body that temporarily been yours as his eyes filled with tears. "Sam?" Dean questioned but Sam didn't want to hear it. "Don't, Dean. Just don't." Sam got up, scooping you up in his arms, ready to burn your body once again. He walked with a heavy heart as he his mind raced and his heart was torn between his brother and the demon he'd come to love. A demon that only the King of Hell could bring back to him.

(a/n: How’d I do? It’s been a bit since I wrote anything SPN. I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard​ @brewsthespirit-blog​ @sirkekselord​ @aikibriarrose​ @lady-of-lies​ @esoltis280​ @stories-by-shanna-p​ @motleymoose​

Supernatural Tags: @jotink78​

[thephantomessoftheopera]

Notes on Gaston Leroux’s “The Phantom of the Opera” - Chapter 14: “A Masterstroke by the Lover of Trapdoors”

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Raoul and Christine are still running away from the shadow on the rooftop when they encounter the Persian, who tells them to run in the opposite direction. Raoul makes another try at getting Christine to run away with him on the spot, but once again, she refuses and repeats that Raoul will probably need to make her go against her will if he wants to elope with her (what is he supposed to do though? Drag a screaming and kicking Christine through the opera house? Drug her or knock her unconscious and roll her up in a carpet?).

She tries to convince him that Erik has not overheard their conversation on the rooftop because he is working on „Don Juan Triumphant“, but doesn’t seem to quite believe it herself. When Raoul bitterly says how brave she was to play his fiancée, Christine reveals that she had actually told Erik all about the engagement game she was playing with Raoul, and that he was willing to tolerate it under the assumption that Raoul would be leaving for the North Pole soon.

It is also obvious that despite the kiss Christine has given him in the preceding chapter, Raoul is still unsure of her feelings, which might also be due to her speaking of it like a one-time thing:

“Are people unhappy when they’re in love?”  “Yes, when they’re in love and aren’t sure of being loved.” “Are you saying that for Erik?” “For Erik and for myself”, answered Raoul, shaking his head with a thoughtful, forlorn expression.”

To a certain degree, Christine might be asking that first question for herself, too, since she is obviously unhappy and has shown signs of crying before. Keep in mind that this is the last interaction we see between Raoul and Christine before her abduction. Raoul is still uncertain at this point if Christine actually loves him, which means that he is soon going to risk his life for a girl whose feelings remain a mystery to him. We’ve got to give him some credit for that…

In her conversation with Raoul, Christine calls Erik a “man of heaven and earth” - not a ghost, monster or demon. She has seen his face, and even though she feels horror, she apparently also sees him as a man here. Raoul is once again taken aback by how Christine talks about Erik, making him question her determination to leave. She also tells him that no matter where she calls, Erik will always hear her. This is certainly due to the acoustics of the building and its secret passageways, since Erik apparently used similar techniques in the palace he built in Persia. On a deeper level, this is a symbol of how strongly they are still bound together, and seems to extend into the supernatural.

We also learn that Erik has promised Christine to stay away from her dressing room and her bedroom in his house, and that she trusts what he says. It is quite poignant to see how far Erik and Christine apparently trust each other, and how each of them is not fully deserving of the trust put into them even if they seem to be trying. In „Apollo‘s Lyre“, Christine also mentions how she instinctively trusted Erik.

Erik has given Christine a key to his house, which must be a pretty big thing for him as he puts his own safety into her hands with this. Christine shows Raoul the key but refuses to give it to him when he demands it because it “would be a betrayal” (apparently, she doesn‘t consider what happened on the rooftop a „betrayal“ and is also unwilling to betray Erik). But then she realises that she has lost Erik’s gold ring, probably while she gave Raoul the kiss on the rooftop - which is symbolic, of course. When Erik gave her the ring, he told her that she would be safe as long as she wore it - but if she parted with it, he would take revenge. She is greatly distressed, fearing what Erik might do to both of them - but even that is not enough to get her to run away. As she seems to have lost the ring on the rooftop, and Erik has it back in his possession two days later, saying that he had found it, it is likely that he directly picked it up after Christine and Raoul left the rooftop.

Raoul then goes home, cursing Erik and resolving to save Christine while he goes to bed. In the darkness, he thinks he sees Erik’s glowing eyes watching him from the balcony, and turns on the light to see if the eyes disappear. He takes his pistol and fires a shot at Erik’s eyes, which wakes the entire household including Philippe. Philippe thinks Raoul, who is rambling incoherently, has gone completely mad and asks him who this „Erik“ is that Raoul seems to be so obsessed with. Raoul states:

“He’s my rival!”

That statement is significant because it shows that Raoul views Erik primarily as a romantic threat to himself - not just as a threat to Christine’s safety or a general nuisance that he needs to get rid of, but as a serious contender for Christine’s hand. Raoul considering him his rival also puts them on more or less equal footing. Raoul also starts to worry that he should not have been so rash because if it really was Erik, Christine might not forgive Raoul for hurting him after all.

From Raoul’s description of his glowing eyes and the fact that there really is blood on the balcony and the drainpipe, we can conclude that it was indeed Erik standing there, and that he has been wounded by Raoul’s shot to a significant degree, considering there was enough blood to have seeped through his clothing and dripped onto the balcony in a very short time. The explanation of Raoul having shot at a cat doesn’t sound very likely, given that cats wouldn’t usually slide down drainpipes to get off a balcony.

Raoul and Philippe go on to quarrel over Raoul’s plan to elope with Christine. Philippe will not tolerate Raoul marrying a girl from the opera, but Raoul seems to be determined to go through with his plan anyway and defy Philippe’s wishes.

The next morning, there is an article in the newspaper “L’Époque” revealing that Raoul and Christine are engaged and about to marry. It is somewhat strange though because we never see Raoul and Christine actually getting engaged in a serious fashion. There’s the “engagement game” of course, but it cannot be considered the same as a serious marriage proposal. In addition to that, the last time we saw Raoul and Christine discussing their elopement, there were distinctly no plans of marriage included, as Raoul promised to take Christine away and then leave her to herself, as she has decided *not* to marry. It is not clear when that plan changed, or if Christine is even aware that his plans have changed. Philippe is very much embarrassed by Raoul’s behaviour, and swears that he will stop Raoul if he still plans to go through with his plans of elopement with Christine. Raoul leaves without saying anything more to Philippe, and spends the day making preparations for the elopement until 9 pm.

There is a curious detail that Leroux draws attention to, but I’m unsure about why he mentions it at all: Raoul’s carriage is driven by a coachman “whose face was largely hidden by the long scarf he wore” (They might have picked up on this in the 2004 movie). It cannot be Erik here though, as he now appears on scene to observe the carriage while the coachman is still sitting on it. In this scene, Erik is wearing the attire we have come to associate with him because of the musical mostly - the black cloak and felt hat.

During that night’s performance of Faust, Christine appears in the role of Marguerite again, but this time, the rumours about her engagement from the morning paper cause the audience to react with hostility to her since they see her as a social climber. This gives her (and us) an idea of how Parisian society would have reacted to her if she had ever become the Viscountess (or Countess, if Philippe is dead) de Chagny (and it would most likely have been far worse if she had married the man suspected of having killed his brother over her in public). Christine is quickly losing confidence when she suddenly sees Carlotta appear in one of the boxes, and her defiant nature is awakened. Not wishing to appear weak and succumb before her enemy, she regains her confidence and sings with all her soul again.

In the final scene of „Faust“, Faust and Mephisto come to rescue an insane Marguerite from her prison cell, but even though she and Faust confess their love for each other, she refuses to escape and asks the angels to take her soul to heaven instead (you can watch it here, for example: https://youtu.be/i2C4ezHUF1I).

Final scene from „Faust“ performance at the Metropolitan Opera (image from bruzanemediabase.com)

When Christine pleads with the angels in the final prison scene, Leroux makes use of the ambiguity of the „angel“. Raoul stands up from where he has been sitting in the amphitheater (not the de Chagny box where Philippe is sitting), but the Angel of Music is quicker: the entire stage is plunged into darkness, and when the lights return, Christine is gone. A great commotion ensues, with everybody trying to explain where Christine could be, but her co-star Carolus Fonta then announces publicly that she has disappeared, and that no one knows what has really happened.

Erik’s action here is both daring and desperate. From his perspective, he needs to act now before Christine will be out of his reach forever. He has overheard the escape plan, and I guess he also saw the newspaper speculating about her impending marriage, and now sees his hand forced before it’s too late for him. The chapter‘s title calling it a „masterstroke“ („coup de maître“) highlights the extraordinary skill and boldness that were necessary to stage his abduction of Christine in the fashion that he chose. The „lover of trapdoors“ is a nickname that was given to him in Persia, as we will later learn from the Persian.

Image from wikipedia

Next chapter >>

[doyelikehaggis]

oh god I want to ask abt many of ur wips but the one that v obviously stands out the most to me is valerine and the twins !! that ficlet u did for this concept with teh mb still lives in my head rent free so ofc I want to know how that fic is going. also 40 (bc what a concept !!) and/or 53 <33

I thought that would be the one that most interested you haha, of course you can know how it's going, I am very pleased that it lives rent free in your head. You obviously know the basic concept, which is that Valerie and Caroline get full custody of the twins, so we'll jump right into the snippet instead!

"I want to go for full custody." 

Valerie stops. Her hands are drenched in bubbles and soapy water, a plate in one hand and the sponge in her other. She looks more domestic than Caroline ever thought she'd see her, hair tied back loosely and wearing one of Caroline's softest plaid shirts. It's orange and pink. It's a good look on her. 

The smile that had been caught on her lips just a second ago has faded slightly as she processes what Caroline just said. In all fairness, it's a big thing to just casually throw out into a normal conversation while washing the dishes. 

"Okay," Valerie says slowly. "Um... Okay, that's a pretty big deal." She lets the plate slide back into the sink and turns to Caroline, shaking her head. "I mean, I think you should."

Caroline blinks. She was expecting a more alarmed response; usually, in tv shows and books, when one person says they want to get full custody of a kid, it's a big deal for the partner, right? They're not sure they can handle it, they're not sure their relationship will be able to get through it, all of that. 

Flat out agreement wasn't quite on the list. 

"Really?" she asks, straightening up with a surge of joyful hope. "You do? You're not -- you don't want to -- to talk about it or anything?" 

Valerie frowns, her brow wrinkling. Caroline's always liked the little crease it makes between her eyebrows. Not when she first met her, that was more satisfying, knowing she had stumped her. But recently, it's become a fond thing rather than one for her to be triumphant over. 

"Caroline, they're your kids," Valerie says. "If you want full custody of them, it's not my place to have a say in that." 

The hope is quickly pricked with a sharp little pin and bursts, deflating with a sad whistle. It weirdly stings her, too.

"That's... No, that's not how this works," Caroline says, weirdly hurt. Maybe she had been expecting a bit more hesitation surrounding the idea, but this feels worse. 

Valerie seems to be realizing that. Confused, grabs a towel from the sideboard and starts drying her hands, while she says, "It isn't?" 

"No!" Caroline laughs in disbelief. She steps forward and takes one of her partially dry hands in between both of her own. "No, it's absolutely not. Val, you are a big part of my life now. You know that, right?" 

Valerie hesitates now. Her mouth opens like she wants to agree, but her just runs along her teeth while that little crease in her eyebrows grows deeper. 

"Well, yeah," she quickly says after a moment, with Caroline's exasperated stare focused on her. "Of course I do. But I wouldn't stand in the way of any decisions you wanted to make about your kids, that's why I just thought this was more you telling me rather than something for us to talk about." 

Caroline's realizing that Valerie's response wasn't because she doesn't want to be part of the family. She just doesn't think that she is part of it. 

Which... actually hurts even more, Caroline finds. Because maybe that's on her. Has she been making her feel left out? Like she's a separate part of her life from Lizzie and Josie? That was the last thing she wanted. 

"Valerie," Caroline says seriously, and her eyes widen a little with worry. "Almost every decision that I make for my future is going to include your voice, because it's going to affect yours, too. That's what being in a relationship is, remember? So, if I tell you that I want to get full custody of Lizzie and Josie, I'm asking you to talk it through with me before anything goes ahead. Are you okay with having that conversation?" 

She has never seen Valerie look so stumped for what to say before. It's the first time they've had a conversation like this, one that's really going to affect both of them.

But even though she has that fight-or-flight, ready to flee at a moment's notice look in her eyes that she often gets, Valerie nods slowly. Then her face breaks out into a smile, and she breathes out a soft laugh, looking down. 

"Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I would love that."

Now, 40! Hope living with Jeremy! It is certainly a concept, isn't it?? This comes entirely from the start of season 2 of Legacies, when no one remembered Hope but she was sticking around Mystic Falls to help with the Malivore monsters. When watching that, my mum and I had been trying to guess who she was going to live with, because surely she wouldn't be living on her own and she couldn't stay at the school, so we came up with the theory that she was going to be living with Jeremy, who, as far as we knew, would have to have somewhere to live while he was in town. And then I decided that if she was going to be living with Jeremy, they would train together, he would help with some Malivore monsters, then they would slowly bond because Jeremy was actually kinda friends with Kol at one point. And then we have big brother Jeremy! Have a little snippet:

There's a loud thwacking noise from the back garden as Hope walks into the kitchen. She pauses momentarily in her sleepy state, registers the noise, then continues going about grabbing a bowl and her box of cereal. It's nearly empty, she finds, to her dismay. 

Once she's poured the last of the milk and tossed the carton, she opens up the back door and steps out into the garden. Her eyes adjust quickly to the darkness and hone in on the figure currently throwing a staff around at a tree like it has personally offended him.

"Are you ever worried that one day it's going to fight back?" she asks curiously. 

Jeremy startles and nearly drops the staff in his haste to turn around to face her. 

"I mean, dryads and wood nymphs are actually a thing. Just so you know. That tree might have a family that probably wouldn't appreciate you hitting it repeatedly for fun."

She spoons cereal into her mouth as Jeremy laughs. Relieved that she isn't some Malivore monster sneaking up on him, he relaxes enough to double over, hands on his knees as he breathes heavily. For someone who's not exactly unfit or unathletic, he gets out of breath incredibly easily.

Tilting her head, Hope asks, "Have you ever considered that you might be asthmatic? You breathe like one."

"And you talk like your uncle," Jeremy quips back, still laughing at her comments. He groans, straightening back up as he adds, "But yes, I do have asthma. Thanks for your concern."

Hope's heart beats a little faster. It always does when her family is mentioned, more often now than before. The urge to get on the bus and go home to them in New Orleans is still there, no matter how much she tries to ignore it. She needs to focus on Malivore's monsters. But it's hard sometimes.

She smiles to herself, wondering if he's right. She hopes so. Uncle Kol was always her favourite. The thought that she could be making him proud with just a few words fills her with a kind of happy pride she hasn't felt since Uncle Kol told her she was just like him for causing trouble at the Salvatore School. 

Then she wipes it off her face like she always does whenever he casually talks about her family, straightens up against the doorframe, and says, "Maybe you should use an inhaler, then. I wouldn't want you dropping dead while we're fighting a monster." 

"Hasn't happened yet!" 

She rolls her eyes at him, something she also finds herself doing often these days. It's easier to ignore him and continue eating her cereal while he goes back to training. Clearly, he has no concern about dryads coming after him for revenge.

"Hey, do you wanna join?" Jeremy calls over to her. 

He offers the staff out to her, but she shakes her. Motioning her cereal with her spoon, she smiles again, and says, "I'm good. Just came down for this. You have fun freezing out here, though."

She turns back inside the kitchen as Jeremy chuckles and shakes his head at her. "Good morning to you too."

53 is a good choice, I very much enjoy that one as well. "Klayley Wedding" is pretty much what it sounds like; Klaus and Hayley are together and getting married. They waited a while to do so, so Hope is seventeen and being pulled out of the Salvatore School for a few days in order to be there for it. And she's bringing a date! Here is your preview:

"Come on, humour me," Lizzie whines as she fusses with the back of Hope's hair. Why she agreed to let her style it, Hope has no idea; it was definitely a moment of bad judgment, but at the same time, it was let her do it when she begged, or be forever resented for saying no. 

And having Lizzie Laughlin-Forbes resent you is not something anyone in the Salvatore School risks. It's signing a death sentence. 

Rolling her eyes, Hope goes to shake her head then quickly stops when Lizzie holds it firmly on both sides and glares at her in the mirror. "No moving until I'm done!" she reminds her. "I haven't spelled it yet, you'll mess it up."

"Have you ever considered going into hairdressing?" Hope asks dryly, glaring back halfheartedly. Really, she doesn't mind her helping her out. 

It's at least better than her having to worry about it herself. Though, Aunt Rebekah is not going to be happy that she didn't let her do it. It's why she's practically been avoiding her since getting to New Orleans. 

Lizzie laughs shortly, then says, "Nice try. You're not wriggling out of the question."

Hope doesn't admit that's what she was trying to do, but it definitely was the intention. Lizzie has been a broken record since she found out that Hope was bringing a date to the wedding. At first, she was offended that Hope hadn't asked her, but then saw Hope's reasoning when she pointed out that she and Josie were already going to be there because of their mom.

"It's not a big deal!" Hope says, finally at least acknowledging the question. 

Lizzie scoffs. "Oh, of course not. Except, it absolutely is, and you know that it definitely is to Rafael. You basically asked him to meet your family, Hope. That's a big deal to most people."

"Not to you or Josie." 

"We've known your family since we were born!" Lizzie protests. She stops whatever she was doing to Hope's hair to stare at her in the mirror. "Rafael is head over heels in love with you, any person with barely working eyes -- or ears -- knows that. Except you, apparently!"

Hope shakes her head, once again forgetting Lizzie's rule. Lizzie quickly holds her head in place again, but she's too focused on the conversation at hand to lecture her again. 

"Maybe this is your way of letting him down without having to actually tell him!" Lizzie continues, obviously trying to get under her skin. "After all, you've invited him to meet your family, who are probably going to threaten him at every turn. Especially your dad, because of the whole macho alpha werewolf thing, you know?"

"My mom's actually the Alpha of the pack, not my dad," Hope corrects, but Lizzie brushes it off.

"After today, Rafael's probably not going to have any feelings for you anymore out of fear of your family, so, really, you won't have to do anything. I mean, it's smart -- a little cruel, but at least you don't have to do any of the hard work yourself, that's all up to your family--" 

"You make them sound terrifying," Hope protest with a touch of offence to her voice, staring up at Lizzie in the mirror. "They're not that bad. I actually think they'll like Raf." 

Lizzie raises an eyebrow. She's smiling.

"Is that because you want them to like him?" she asks slowly, and Hope groans, but Lizzie quickly presses on before she can interrupt, "Just admit you asked him to be your date because you like him!" 

"If I do, will you shut up and finish my hair so that we can go and meet Josie and Raf?" 

Lizzie lights up like a Christmas tree. She squeals excitedly, even though Hope technically hasn't even admitted anything yet. She's taking it as all the confirmation she needs. 

"I like him," Hope says anyway, and maybe she's smiling a little as well. "And yes, it would be convenient for me if my parents liked him before anything happened between us." 

"I knew it," Lizzie breathes out, shaking her head. She picks back up where she left off with Hope's hair as if nothing happened. "Now that that's over. Tell me, would your Aunt Rebekah mind if I borrowed that really gorgeous emerald bracelet she showed us yesterday?" 

Hope is laughing. Lizzie can't seem to figure out why, but honestly, Hope's just so happy in the moment that she can't help herself. For a moment on the way over to New Orleans, when everyone was packed onto that bus, shouting and arguing, she thought this was going to be a disaster. Someone would end up killing someone. 

There's still time for that, especially since neither she nor her mom have told her dad that she has a date. But Hope is finally living up to her name for once and is choosing to be hopeful that, actually, maybe everything is allowed to go right for once. 

God, writing those snippets took me so long, so apologies for the delay! But I actually enjoyed this a lot so thank you so much for giving me motivation! Who knows, I might actually finish writing them now! (God, now all I can think about is TVD and Legacies, I haven’t been here in ageeeees. Time to rewatch TVD season 1-6 and season 2 of Legacies, I think.)  

[prorevenge]

Ridiculed, accused of lying and incompetence, I shoved burning facts down their throats and made a successful business in the process.

"The best revenge is massive success." -Frank Sinatra

TL;DR; Told I was lying and didn't know anything about game design. Made a spite video game that became a huge hit. Jackass is also forever immortalized within the game credits.

PREFACE

This is a very unusual story compared to the typical posts you've read here. There's a lot to unpack but I'll try to summarize everything as best I can.

I hope you'll find it as entertaining as I did. And, what's great about this story is that it happened very recently, it happened here, evidence is searchable, and it's still kinda on-going. It's a tale of trolls, video game addiction, self-righteous arrogance, harassment, winning an impossible bet, a viral hit in Russia, and massive success with even some little revenge sprinkles for added measure.

Quick background about me: I've worked with game developers for decades and I'm an avid researcher and supporter of unorthodox and ethical video games used for educational and clinical purposes.

HOW IT STARTED

Two months ago, there was a new reddit post about "using video game to ease depression" that caught my attention.

The reason it caught my attention was because it was a game & study that I had in-depth knowledge of (from over a year prior.) Unlike everyone else in the thread, I was the only one who had actually seen the game, played it, knew the developers, and even had the original technical game design documents.

The article discussed a variety of topics but never addressed exactly HOW the video game was able to ease depression. So, I provided a quickly summary of what the game actually did.

[SKIP THIS SECTION IF NEUROSCIENCE & GAME DESIGN DON'T INTEREST YOU]

A quick side note about this article, for those that like extra details: One of the cool properties of ketamine is that, not only can it provide rapid and temporary relief for depression, it also actively heals damaged brain circuits. Then there's dopamine. A chemical that we internally produce, that has similar but less potent effects. There is no cure for depression, but these are promising treatments for some. The article focused on what's called "flow". Using certain game design methods you can induce a "flow state" by causing a sustained dopamine release. When used ethically, it can be highly beneficial in stimulating/training the brain to perform certain activities, improve or learn memorization, adapt to challenges, learn new concepts, exercise motor skills, and meanwhile rebuild pathways/synapses. While all of this is happening, the user is receiving pleasurable rewards without realizing it. This process can create new pathways, repair old circuits, and increasing their neuroplasticity. Increased neuroplasticity means improved cognitive functioning, reducing impairment of the reward process, and improving the effectiveness of antidepressant medications. Video games can be a unique non-drug option to accomplish this while easing symptoms. Research has already shown that many popular games can already accomplish this (unintended effects by the game developers). By comparison, the game design they used in this theoretical study was highly limited in scope, so permanent benefits were negligible compared to the temporary respite brought about by basic dopamine release. Science is still barely scratching the surface of neurotransmitters and flow state. There are still many unknowns, but dopamine isn't just a pleasure chemical that the media would like you to be believe. It can do quite a number of things. Research has shown that "flow state" can modify synaptic plasticity, improve connectors between cells/synapses, ultimately helping cells in the brain communicate better as a network and improve neural system intrinsic properties.

My summary posting was fine for a while, until predictable trolls arrived led by an "armchair game developer". Dr. Armchair definitely did not appreciate my post. It was an affront and insult to his profession. Within a few minutes, it dropped 30 karma. I don't care about imaginary internet points but I don't like being accused of lying. Dr. Armchair and his pals started with the usual "do you even lift?" Then it was quickly asserted, from their armchairs, that I knew nothing about flow, psychology, dopamine or game design at all. From their high horses, they contributed nothing useful; only taunts, defamation, attacking my character and physical appearance, and accusing me of being a liar and incompetence.

Apparently it was a very sensitive topic. Who knew?

It quickly devolved into Dr. Armchair gleefully, and repeatedly claiming, that he won, he was right, and I was wrong. He demanded that I essentially write a 300 page peer-reviewed study to prove him wrong, and when it couldn't be provided within 5 minutes, there were more gleeful cheers of "HAHA! I WAS RIGHT! I WAS RIGHT! I'M NOT LISTENING TO YOU LALALALALA.."

Obviously, it was going to be impossible to reason with Dr. Armchair and his buddies. But actions speak louder than words.

So, I claimed that I would provide undeniable proof in the form of a video game "a few months from now" that he could actually play for himself. Once again, claiming that I was lying and it was impossible. And more of the usual "It's been 5 minutes, where is it? Oh, you can't do it can you. HA! I was right! I BEAT YOU! I BEAT YOU!"

It was weird.

Eventually the mods had enough. Dr. Armchair and his cronies harassment, ad hominem attacks, accusations and inflammatory attacks resulted in multiple posts being removed. But my promise still stood and I fully intended on keeping it.

THE BOLD CLAIM

The plan was simple:

Create a proof of concept that demonstrates just the critical neuroscience principles that induce flow. To prove it beyond a doubt, I intended to also prove that MOST COMMON INGREDIENTS of a game are completely UNNECESSARY to accomplish this.

So, I made the very confident claim that the game would still be fun, addictive, and demonstrate flow state, even after ripping everything out:

No extras or frills. Built within a short period of time.

No music. No sound effects. No animations. No story.

No expensive art. In fact, hardly any at all: I would use ONE SINGLE ART ASSET for the gameplay (plus some lines.)

No feature creep. No sign-in system. No gacha mechanics.

No level design. No achievements. No RPG gamifications.

I could get at least a couple hundred people to play it.

I should have also mentioned that it would be built with ZERO BUDGET and NO MARKETING.

If this sounds like a strange way to make a game, it is. For a typical game developer, this would raise many eyebrows, and they'd consider it highly risky or improbable to achieve any success with both arms figurately tied behind your back while blindfolded.

HOW IT ENDED

While I was preparing to stress test the game online, it was discovered by .ru bots that were scouring the web for new games. Even before the game was ready, they published the game link on several Russian gaming sites.

The game exploded.

It has graphical similarities to Tetris, so it was a nice coincidence that the game essentially launched and did so well in Russia at first. After that, other game sites started discovering the game on their own too, even before I had a chance to submit the game myself. Most importantly, the proof of concept and everything I claimed worked (high ratings and retention). It proved so effective that the game is currently being played by hundreds of thousands of users worldwide. And it's a clear demonstration about the importance of combining psychology and game design.

I suppose you could say that there are many layers of revenge happening here, maybe even karmic justice or backfiring on their part, it's really hard to classify. The best kind of revenge is always massive success, and shoving it in their faces, however. But, on top of that, I also fully kept to my promises while proving these ignorant individuals so wrong they look like fools.

I also added some extra salt to the wound. I figured that success of the game was partly due to Dr. Armchair's ignorance. It was only fair that I included his name within the Game Credits. So, I officially gave this very wonderful human being a very "special thanks" for their support in making this success possible.

(source) story by (/u/postfu)

[oz-corp-uplink-t]

Good evening. I figured it would be a good idea to describe our area in detail, both the one we're in now and the one from whence we came. This will be in chronological order, from first discovered to most recently discovered. I hope you all don't mind the formality. This is simply how I normally converse, and I do not see any reason to be any more or less formal than normal.

--Homeworld: GemsGoldia--

Our Homeworld was a unique one, compared to the more Earthly planets of most other universes. It was an entire planet made of crystals and gems, and the general climate of an area depended on the gemstone that comprised the most of an area. Green Emerald areas were usually perfectly warm, red Ruby areas were much hotter and had a tendency to contain magma geysers, blue Sapphire areas were more or less frozen wastes, and a few other, more unnatural climates, such as constant lighting storms over yellow variants of gemstones, and complete and utter darkness in Obsidian areas.

When I first appeared here, I was the only one. I saw the Creator soon after, and he told me what I should do. The Creator's form in our worlds is quite odd, actually. He's two hands and a head, and he tends to change size often, though he's always bigger than me. His hands have white gloves, and I'm certain I've seen they are connected to his head by fishing line or puppet strings. His head is just a black sphere with extremely triangular teeth and large, red eyes. It's more intimidating than it sounds.

Anyway, the factory/research lab we started with was already built when I showed up, along with quite a few houses, all made of the Emerald the ground was made of, and there were exactly enough for those that would appear soon after. There was an unfathomably gigantic generator in a basement within the factory, which I was told created an artificial atmosphere around the entire planet. Evidently, this was true, as it was destroyed in the destruction of the planet, and we have recorded several corpses of beings that need an atmosphere to survive.

--A strange new land: Mirrold--

I had escaped the destruction of GemsGoldia, and I had to find my way back alone. I went through several places, most of which seemed familiar and sparked... Memories, of past versions of myself. My first iteration looked similar to the creator, but I had a pale skin tone, my eyes were humanoid, my hair was green, and I had some nasty claws. I was a throwaway, used to add plot to a normal 'roleplay' (Which, as he told me, simply describes writing a story with more than one person, which I find to be an interesting concept) between good friends. I was to stop a wedding by killing the bride or groom, the bride being an original creation, from his friend, and the groom being another one of those... Skeleton characters. I think they called them Blueberry. I mortally wounded them, and was destroyed in revenge.

My next iteration was similar to the 000 model. I can't remember what I did as them, but I do remember that the Creator and his friend made fictional children for fictional versions of themselves. Apparently, this was my longest running form.

Then, we're at what I am now. A product of His creativity, depression from a long-passed break-up, of which he has told me was his own doing, and fantasies of escaping His world, and coming to ours. His mental state has left our world in ruin, and it seems like he may want this one to have a similar fate...

...Oh, right. I need to be talking about Mirrold. Forgive me, I tend to get far off-topic if I think about our home...

Mirrold is a mirror world, which I found in an apparently magical mirror in the ruins of GemsGoldia, which acted as a portal to here. This place consists of four islands and a deep pit under them, which we call Lower Mirrold.

--The glass shatters: Shatternia--

Shatternia is the only entrance to Mirrold that we know of. After you enter the mirror, you come out onto a catwalk suspended above Lower Mirrold, which looks like pitch blackness. This catwalk ends at a concrete building, where the Brokem, Ozwald, and Cordial base models reside. This is at the southernmost area of the island. To the west of this, there is a thick forest with various weak monsters within. The foliage on this island is always colored in a mix of reds and blues instead of the normal green you'd expect. To the north of the building, there is a toxic lake, and a bridge leading to a canyon with a large gate at the end, leading to the only town in the area, Shardini. If you go east from the building, there is a tram station, which connects to the next island over, and allows for transport between them. North of this is a mansion under constant snowfall, which is reminiscent of the home the Creator had imagined being in when with their friend. The Creator put a copy of his past self, specifically from the period of major depression over his relationship, in Mirrold, and they occasionally show up at this mansion and cry to themselves. They are hostile to any trespassers, but reminders of this failed relationship will stop them in their tracks.

I do recall, now that I think of it, there was another skeleton who became partially Corrupt, but never fully turned, and who lived with the models in the concrete building. Actually, they may have been an alternate version of Blueberry. I think the models that live there called them "Grape".

--A major downgrade: Junkedville--

It's much larger than Shatternia, but it's mostly empty desert. There is an exception: Salvagius. This is the one town in Junkedville, near the northern edge. Our factory rests at the northernmost point, and the rest of the place is houses and establishments made of sheet metal. The pub here is highly popular, mainly because it's impossible to die from overdrinking, as they add special ingredients that prevent death or impairments from extreme amounts, without lessening the actual enjoyment of it, including the drunkenness. This isn't completely effective, unfortunately, as you can tell from my entire workforce being in alchohol comas.

I did say that Shatternia was the only entrance, but that isn't completely true. In the factory, we are very capable of transporting people using the multiversal portals we have. We also considered opening them up to other creations for this uplink, but we aren't sure if it matters much anyway.

--Eternal war: Magicant--

Magicant is a small place, and there's not much left by now. Mages populated this place quite heavily before the Corruption followed us here. They have allied with us for the destruction of the Corruption, but they have blown half their island out of the sky trying to fight. There isn't much left to speak of...

--Mixed up anomaly: Lower Mirrold--

Lower Mirrold is... Difficult to understand. It's split into five sectors. These five sectors change randomly into portions of different worlds, bringing buildings, landscapes, and people with them into our own. This has caused many visitors to suddenly show up without intending to, and many strange scenarios where multiple characters and worlds combine in strange ways, causing strange situations. One we have documented in particular is still in progress, and the events until now are as follows.

1: Subject A ( Short/overweight/male, generally known as a thief, wears yellow and purple clothes, a cap with his first initial on it, and cyan eyeliner) receives a message from Subject B (Literally a fucking sponge) that proposes an exchange for taking B's job for a day in exchange for a stockpile of treasure. Subject A accepts, drives into ocean and finds Subject B's workplace.

It should be noted these two should not have known each other at all.

2: Subject A falls asleep on the job, establishment burns down. Subject A flees and finds stockpile. Subject B fires a nuclear bomb at his neighbor to threaten the arsonist who burned down the establishment. Subject A is transported to an unknown location for approximately 7 hours, before Lower Mirrold shifts again and any further events cease.

We have reason to believe whatever's been happening here is still happening now, but we have been too occupied with everything else we can't be certain.

--Core of Corruption: Corrupti--

Not much is known of Corrupti, other than Sally currently resides there and controls the Corrupted from it's core. It rose from Lower Mirrold some time after the event above had ceased. We don't know what to do about it, all we know is that it's ruining everything we worked so hard to achieve, and that we must end it... But we do not know how.

------------------------------------------------------------

A few closing statements...

Firstly, I have been informed the Creator has documented the Lower Mirrold events mentioned above. I haven't been told where, though. Just that it's "On my tube", or something. If you happen to figure something out there, that would be helpful.

Second, I'm not completely certain the Creator has fully gotten over what happened with his relationship. I don't know if that's why he seems to be reluctant to help us, but either way I'm sure he'll figure himself out sooner or later. I hope, anyway.

Good night to you all. I hope you haven't forgotten us.

Oh, and to those of you in bad times, (lookingatyourox) just know your pain doesn't last forever, and all wounds can be healed with help and time. Also, do not try to end your pain early. It will only spreas your pain to others, and, if there is a place after life, give you a worse pain in your ghost.

...Sorry, if I'm being a bit too grim here. I'm in quite a grim mood, unfortunately. I think the Creator is, too.