#death mark artists i owe you my life

[galaxyedging]

Part of the Exposed Masterlist

Claude the Cat x OFCC (the extra C is for cat because apparently I've lost my mind. I may as well go all in at this point.)

WC:3.2k

Summary: Claude meets a cat that he is desperate to paint and do other things with.

Warnings: A horny cat. Angst. Talk of death.

Alley Cats

The sun warming his tail told Claude it was time to make a move before the room was rented out. If he made his way to the kitchen door, he could probably charm some thinly sliced salmon from the overbearing sous chef. She always finds a little something for him. She even digs out a little extra if he lets her hold him. He feels like a common whore when her boney fingers dig into him and her strong citrus perfume brings a sting to his sensitive eyes. Still, the food was good and it wouldn't be the first time he was called a whore. They didn't understand that he was on borrowed time. 

The new guy he lived with had taken him for that goddamn operation. Claude was lucky to come out with everything intact. The vet had the gleam of a butcher in his eyes. His fingers looked cumbersome and not capable of the fine motor skills that needed to attend to Claude's most delicate parts. He had put up a fight. He dodged and weaved like a prize fighter. He'd done his best to keep them at bay. His new roommate, and several of the employees, bore the scratch marks to prove it. Ultimately, he had been bested by a rather rotund man with a syringe. He spent the next few days ruing the day he graced the fire escape outside that insipid artist's apartment. Even if he had fed him tuna and scratched that spot on his head that he likes. And he let him sleep on his bed when the storm outside got too loud. Still, he took him for that operation, he risked his virility, it was still at risk. Claude was afraid if he didn't use it he would lose it. 

It may have caused a couple of problems for him. A couple of fights between his partners, who thought that just because they barbed, once, they were a thing. That he owed them something. If anything, they owned him. Even if he could only find a flea bitten tabby to keep him company, he always made them feel good. If he was going to do something he was going to do it right. They should be thankful.

To be fair, they usually were. They fell at his feet. He didn't blame them, given the competition. All mangy alley cats and overfed, lazy family pets. His winning personality aside Claude was obviously the far superior choice. 

As he sat on the sun warmed concrete, finishing off some salmon meant for today's main, (He earned it by doing his best 'poor little kitty' routine. Big, brown eyes. A little mournful whine. His small, soft paws laid gently on her outstretched hand. It was degrading, but a man's got to eat and occasionally he has to eat finer fish than his roommate offers him), Claude thought that this new life wasn't so bad. Throwing himself into all these indulgences helped him to forget what he had lost, his home, his….well, he wasn't going to be in that position again. He'd barb, he'd take what he could from the humans and that was it. No bonding. No feelings. It wasn't a bad way to live. He could quite happily spend the rest of his days like this, then she sauntered into his life.

Claude watched her lithe form drop down into the alley. Gracefully landing on all fours before heading to the open kitchen door. A pitiful meow got the sous chef's attention.

"Oh, Sweetie, you're back. Are you hungry?" She rubbed her head against the chef's calves as they spoke. "Stay there. I'll get you something special."

The woman returned with even more food than she had given Claude, chicken as well as the salmon. He watched as the woman fed it to the newcomer, who purred happily in her boney hands. He didn't know this cat but she was good. 

"That was a pretty convincing little act." Claude called over as the cat made her way back down the alley.

Her head snapped towards him, she raised an eyebrow in question. "Act?"

"The nuzzling, the purring. Acting like you can stand that woman." Claude gobbled up the last of his breakfast before waiting for her reply. Making a good show of licking his paws while he did so. He might have found her display a bit over the top but there was no denying how attractive she was.

"She's kind. She feeds me when my owner can't. Why wouldn't I like her?" Claude was taken aback by her answer.

"Don't you find her a little overbearing? Needy?"

"How long have you been coming here?"

"About a month. Why?"

"Did you notice the tan line on her ring finger? Or remember the ring that used to be there?"

Claude hadn't given any notice to either.

"She's clearly going through something. She needs a hug."

"How noble of you." Claude scoffed.

"Wow. Are you always this big of an asshole?" 

"I don't know. Why do you spend some more time with me and find out?" Claude's tone was laced with suggestion.

"Hitting on me before you even find out my name. Classy."

"I would have learnt it eventually. I'd need to know what to call out in the throws of passion."

"Good luck with that." She leaped up onto a crate next to the wall preparing to leave.

Claude called after her. "So you're not going to tell me your name?"

"No." She stated firmly.

"No matter. A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet. Mine is Claude by the way.

The female smiled to herself as she strolled along the top of the wall. Against her better judgement, she decided to visit this place more often.

A couple of days later, Claude smiled triumphantly as the object of his desire dropped down into the alley again.

"Good morning, Molly." He called out casually. He saw her bristle at his words."I asked around. I couldn't go another day without putting a name to my latest piece."

"Piece?!" Molly spun to face him, claws out.

"My art piece." Claude smiled wryly as her reaction as he walked over to get his pizza box canvas. "What do you think?"

Molly had to admit it was good, he was obviously talented. "I think it's creepy that we met once and you painted me."

Claude was enjoying this. It had been a long time since he'd had to work this hard for a woman. Usually after he unveils his art work it isn't long until he gets his cock wet. Molly was going to be a challenge. One he would gladly rise to.

"How can you blame me? Look at the inspiration I had. Any artist worth his salt would have to immortalise a woman as beautiful as you."

"Immortalise? Whatever you painted with smells like it's about to turn. I give that two days, tops."

"But the mental image will stay with me forever. Unless you have a better one to replace it with?"

Molly found herself being rather flattered by Claude's tenacity. He was good looking, and that voice! Maybe she would concede to his attention eventually but she was going to make him work for it. She wasn't some easy street cat.

"Is that all you are interested in? My beauty?"

"It's not all I am interested in." Claude made a point of raking his eyes over her body.

Molly cursed the way her body betrayed her morals at his molten gaze. Ignoring him, she made her way to the door to be fed. Once she was done she made her way back the way she came. Shooting a quick "Bye, Claude." his way.

"Bye, My Darling. I'll see you again soon. I hope." His tone was almost sweet.

The next time they met it was raining, the overhang by the kitchen door afforded little shelter. Claude was already there licking the remnants of his meal from his paws. He locked his eyes on Molly's as she came into view. Purposely slowing the progression of his cleaning. Making a bigger show than necessary with his tongue. "There you are. The weather is miserable but there is enough shelter here, if you want to squeeze in with me?"

He wasn't wrong, there was just enough room in the dry patch of floor for the two of them, if they huddled together. Molly rethought how hungry she was.

"Come. I don't bite. Unless I'm asked." Claude shuffled back a little to give her space to land. She did so gracefully as always. "There. Isn't that better?"

Molly had to admit that the shelter and the warmth of Claude pressed next to her was a lot better. 

The sous chef appeared with her supper a few minutes later. Molly ate happily as Claude sat pressed into her in silence. She was grateful that he didn't keep hitting on her while she ate. Until he hit her with "So when are we going to fuck?".

The last of her chicken almost caught in her throat.

"Sorry to be so blunt but you are attractive, I'm attractive. You clearly have strong feelings towards me. Even if they are just of annoyance. Hate sex is fantastic. So it seems a shame not to fuck."

Heaven help her, Molly found his boldness attractive. "I do find you attractive but I'm not interested in being another notch on your scratching post. I'm not a young cat, my priorities are different. If you want to fuck me, you'll have to get to know me." With that hanging in the air she left a stunned Claude to shelter from the rain as she bounced home.

Claude told himself he wasn't going back to the alley. So Molly was attractive. So she was self assured. So she wasn't going to be an easy lay. It didn't mean he had to have her. Except it totally did mean he had to have her. He was obsessed. He painted her every day. She consumed his thoughts. He liked that she was keen to put him in his place. Claude was a big, bold personality. He usually got what he wanted, when he wanted. Being denied something was driving him crazy.

As soon as Molly dropped down into the alley, Claude was on his feet. Despite telling himself he wasn't coming back here, he'd been there every day. When he finally laid eyes on her he was practically giddy. Taking a breath, he forced himself to regain his composure."There you are! How do you expect me to get to know you if you're not here?"

"I didn't expect you to get to know me. I figured when it became clear I wasn't an easy lay, you'd move on."

"I'm wounded that you think so little of me!"

"I know your type. Thinking women should be honoured to carry your progeny."

"That's where you are wrong. I just know what a good time I can provide a woman. It would be wrong of me not to provide that service to as many women as possible."

"So your interest in me is purely philanthropic? How noble! If pleasing me is all you care about then you can get to know me."

After a quick bite to eat, Molly gave Claude her best come hither look over her shoulder and hither Claude came. He followed her out of the alley like so many foolish humans he'd seen being led out of clubs in the dead of night. Destined for heartbreak and regret. Not that that would happen to Claude. No one can break your heart if you don't give it to them. Claude followed her as her backside swung temptingly to and fro. He was so entranced by her curves, he didn't realise she had led him to a park until he heard an overexcited voice. "Look at the kitties!"

The owner was a little chubby faced thing, all freckles and sticky hands. Molly didn't seem to mind when it petted her. It giggled in delight as she purred before skipping off to play in the sand.

"So I know you like salmon and don't mind the gross mini humans petting you. Is that enough?" Claude sighed.

"Yes. Please take me in a manly fashion." Claude couldn't help but smile at the sarcasm dripping from her tone. 

A matching smile spread over Molly's face. "Come on." 

She continued through the park, stopping to let various people pet her, while Claude hung back out of the way. His lack of hair generally made him a less attractive petting prospect. The scowl on his face helped to ensure that no sticky hands touched him.

"Here we are." Molly smiled as they cut through some brushes. Claude was so caught up in how pretty she looked smiling in the sunshine that he didn't even notice his surroundings until a large drop of water landed square on his lower back. The freezing liquid shot a shiver up his spine. Instinctively he jumped and whirled on the source of his discomfort. Claws and fangs bared. 

Molly's laughter was light and airy as she skipped towards the fountain. Jets of water rhythmically shot from the floor arching into the air, projecting rainbows in their spray. Molly moved from jet to jet pouncing on the spray, causing it to rain down on her. The droplets ran down her spotted fur causing it to shimmer even more so than usual. 

Now that he was over the initial shock, Claude couldn't help but see the beauty in the scene before him. The sun dipping low behind the trees caused an orange dappling across the ground. The gorgeous woman frolicking in the dewy rainbow cascade. It was all so rich and vibrant. He knew had found his next work of art. As he pondered what medium he would use he was hit by an errant jet of water. An indignant yowl erupted from him. He hissed until he saw Molly suppressing her laughter. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to full on hit you with it. Are you okay?" 

"I've been better." He shook the drops from his whiskers. "So this is something you enjoy?"

"I'm a Bengal. Water is kind of our thing. You?"

"I'd be happier if it was warmer."

"That's the second best part. Come on." Molly darted out of the water to race ahead. 

Thankfully, all those tins of tuna hadn't slowed Claude down. He caught up to her at the bottom of an art installation. It was a conceptual art piece. Large uncut stones were used to recreate the shape of Atlas. This idea was that the responsibility of taking care of the earth was on all of our shoulders. Claude could do better. He also knew that Atlas carried the sky not the earth. 

"Do you like this piece?" Claude tried to keep his distaste out of his tone.

"It has its perks." Molly jumped from stone to stone before disappearing at the top.

Claude quickly followed to find her stretched out of the 'earth' stone. The stone still clung to the heat of the day under his paws. It felt good. As if she could read his mind Molly commented "Wait until you stretch out on it."

Claude didn't wait any longer to stretch out. He sprawled himself next to her, so close that their side touched. He was sure she would push him away until she didn't. Until she snuggled closer. Emboldened by it, he rested his head on top of hers. In turn she rubbed her head against his until their positions were reversed and her head was on top.

"So are we going to…?" Claude began.

"Not tonight." Her voice was firm but gentle. It gave Claude some hope.

Then Molly began to groom him. Around his neck as first then she ran her tongue over that spot behind his ear. The one that usually got his leg twitching and his motor running. This time it had a different effect on him. Warm tears gather in his eyes. It had been so long since anyone had treated him with this kind of care. It had been so long since he let anyone treat him with this kind of care. He tried to muffle the sobbed that welled up in him but she caught it.

"Shh. You're okay, Claude. Just let it out." she continued to soothe him with her tongue as he finally let out everything he had been holding in. 

His owner had died. He had watched as she faded away. It hadn't taken long. In less than a week, she started with a cough then she was gone. He could still hear it every night. She told her family she was fine. Claude knew she wasn't but he was helpless to do anything. On the third day, he stayed out all day and night. That worried his owner enough to call her nephew. When her nephew came, he suggested a doctor. She'd shook her head, told him she didn't want to trouble anyone, it was just a bad cold. Two days later Claude woke up on her bed but she never woke up again.

"Damn, Lucien. I haven't teared up this much since episode three of The Last of Us." Jerry looked up from his script.

"Is it too much? Our viewers usually like the honesty in the show. The writing team liked it." Lucien bent the end of his own script in his hand nervously.

Jerry stood to clap a reassuring hand on Lucien's shoulder. "It's great, man. Really. I usually worry about last minute changes to scripts but this is so good. It's bold. It's real. Let's get Bravo back in for the last scene.

"I'm sorry." Claude sobbed into his paws as he covered his face.

"Don't be." Molly held him closer. "I'm flattered that you feel safe enough to let your guard down. I knew there was some reason you acted like an uptight asshole."

Claude laughed at that "No, that's pretty much my default personality."

"Maybe." Molly chuckled. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now. Thank you." Claude lay his paw over hers at his side.

"You're welcome. Let's get some rest. If you change your mind, I'll be here when you wake up."

"She'll be there when he wakes up. Like his owner wasn't. Fuck, that hurt." Dieter grabbed a soda from the mini fridge, nodding to offer Lucien one as he did, who declined with a shake of his head. "Oh, man. Where did you come up with the idea for this one?"

"It just came to me." The way Dieter's eyes narrowed on him Lucien got the distinct impression it wasn't the best idea to lie to a double Oscar winner that studies the human condition for a living.

"Right. I gotta head out. Call me soon, we'll hang out. I want to hear more about this new art project." Dieter was out the door before Lucien could think too much about that invitation.

Getting in his car Lucien pulled out his cell phone. Three messages from you sat there unanswered.

@kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie @faceache111 @elegantduckturtle @shadowtrick @simpingcowboy @pedrit0-pascalit0 @yourcoolauntie @pedrostories

[martini-garnish]

you guys already know I'm addicted to Olive posting rn so have some actual info about her. (details under the cut)

-She's not actually a hotel guest and it has nothing to do with whether or not she believes redemption is viable, she just doesn't think she needs to be redeemed. She has done nothing wrong, she's just done what was necessary for her art.

-She's one of Alastor's longest standing deals that Hasn't become a lost source of broadcast agonized screaming. Their arrangement is more of an ongoing patron/artist agreement. He just thinks she and her horrifically visceral works of art are neat, sometimes they just show up in the hotel.

-It's not inherently romantic/sexual but she is A Little obsessed with him. Like she is not trying to sleep with him but if he carved out her heart and ate it in front of her it would be the best day of her afterlife. One wall of her home is covered in 2555 tally marks hand scratched into the surface for every day he was gone because she's very normal about him.

-Lives in a little apartment/studio/gallery combo along the very edge of cannibal town- her work is a pretty big hit there and she and Rosie have a trade agreement for some of her more... unconventional art supplies.

-Rosie is also pretty fond of Olive and the things she creates, she played a pretty big part in keeping her from walking straight out into an extermination grounded during Alastor's 7 year absence. They have girls nights sometimes with a rotating circle of other women. And also Alastor was invited before vanishing, he was absolutely a part of girls night.

-She is Not a fighter, her capacity for murder was very much based in outsmarting her victims and covering up their deaths entirely. Unlike most denizens of hell she is not all that motivated by gaining power. She wants to Make Art and have people Look At It and Understand Her Vision. That's all she's ever wanted. She was not a part of the battle against heaven because she absolutely would've died immediately.

-If you ask me about her I will, in spirit, kis you on the mouth and owe you my life.

[lovesongbracket]

Reminder: Vote based on the song, not the artist or specific recording! The tracks referenced are the original artist, aside from a few rare cases where a cover is the most widely known.

Lyrics, videos, info, and notable covers under the cut. (Spotify playlist available in pinned post)

Love, Me Normally

Written By: Will Wood

Artist: Will Wood

Released: 2020

A smooth and jazzy ballad about feeling like an outlier. Posted in 2016, Will Wood was a guest on WPTV-6, performing this song for the episode. The studio recording of this single was created in 2018, but unreleased until May of 2020.

[Verse 1] In lipstick on the mirror are the lyrics to my obituary In iambic pentameter, followed parameter, cross my eyes, dot my T's I was delivered holding scissors, I live deliberately, I’m a quitter And a winner anyway, cause I never agreed to participate in this game Won't follow my dreams, 'cause they all got me waking up screaming I can’t let them go for me, after all, there is no “I” in team [Chorus] And I'd rather be normal, yes, so normal I suggest that we keep this informal 'Cause a normal human being wouldn't need To pretend to be normal, to be normal Well I guess that's the least that I owe ya To be normal in a way I couldn’t be C’mon, c’mon, and love me normally [Verse 2] If I could live in third person, well, I don’t think life would be much worse than it is In the current tense, presently, this sentence ending in question marks or dot, dot, dot Is it courageous or escapist to leave the quarantine when you’re contagious? It may just be a cold, and besides I don’t wanna get old, yeah I drank myself to death to be the afterlife of the party When the afterparty came, I was rolling in my grave [Chorus] And I'd rather be normal, yes, so normal I suggest that we keep this informal 'Cause a normal human being wouldn't need To pretend to be normal, to be normal Well I guess that's the least that I owe ya To be normal in a way I couldn’t be C’mon, c’mon, and love me normally [Bridge 1, spoken] Now this is the part of the song where I like to talk to my audience I like to tell 'em there's something I want from you hep cats tonight I want you to look to your left, look to your right, your 12 o'clock, three o'clock, six o'clock, nine o'clock, rock around the clock tonight And I want you to find those points of no return, those singularities, those burning rings of fire in the beautiful pupils and the beautiful eyes of the beautiful boy, girl, neither, both, or in-between that you brought with you tonight, and I want you to tell 'em how you really feel I want you to love the way they so seamlessly, like-a-dream-fully, so beautifully, oh-so-dutifully jam that square peg in the round hole in their hearts I want you to tell 'em that you love the way that they don't stick out like sore middle fingers That they crawl their way up the side of the bell curve, stick their flag in the peak, and slide their way back down I want you to tell them that you love the way that they're not maladaptive, not malcontent, not malignant or maleficent, but rather that you love them exactly the way that everybody else is [Bridge 2] I was nothing before, so I couldn’t have asked to be born I'll be nothing again, so what am I between now and then? Is there nothing to fear? Cause shit's getting weird So to God who made this man, you better have one hell of a plan [Chorus] And I'd rather be normal, yes, so normal I suggest that we keep this informal 'Cause a normal human being wouldn't need, no To pretend to be normal, to be normal Well, I guess that's the least that I owe ya To be normal in a way I could never be C’mon, c’mon, yeah, I said c’mon, yeah C’mon, c’mon, yeah, I said c’mon, yeah C’mon, c’mon, and love me normally C'mon, c'mon and love me normally

Do I Wanna Know?

Written By: Alex Turner

Artist: Arctic Monkeys

Released: 2013

Cover included: Hozier, 2014

“Do I Wanna Know” is the second single from AM, premiered live at the Ventura Theatre, CA on May 22, 2013. In it, Alex portrays himself as an obsessive lover that is paranoid about the state of his relationship.

[Verse 1] Have you got colour in your cheeks? Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the tide That sticks around like summat in your teeth? Are there some aces up your sleeve? Have you no idea that you're in deep? I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week How many secrets can you keep? 'Cause there's this tune I found That makes me think of you somehow an' I play it on repeat Until I fall asleep, spillin' drinks on my settee [Pre-Chorus] (Do I wanna know?) If this feelin' flows both ways? (Sad to see you go) Was sorta hopin' that you'd stay (Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day [Chorus] Crawlin' back to you Ever thought of callin' when You've had a few? 'Cause I always do Maybe I'm too Busy bein' yours To fall for somebody new Now, I've thought it through Crawlin' back to you [Verse 2] So have you got the guts? Been wonderin' if your heart's still open And if so, I wanna know what time it shuts Simmer down an' pucker up, I'm sorry to interrupt It's just I'm constantly on the cusp of tryin' to kiss you But I don't know if you feel the same as I do But we could be together if you wanted to [Pre-Chorus] (Do I wanna know?) If this feelin' flows both ways? (Sad to see you go) Was sorta hopin' that you'd stay (Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day [Chorus] Crawlin' back to you (Crawlin' back to you) Ever thought of callin' when You've had a few? (Had a few) 'Cause I always do ('Cause I always do) Maybe I'm too (Maybe I'm too busy) Busy bein' yours (Bein' yours) To fall for somebody new Now, I've thought it through Crawlin' back to you [Outro] (Do I wanna know?) If this feelin' flows both ways? (Sad to see you go) Was sorta hopin' that you'd stay (Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day (Do I wanna know?) Too busy bein' yours to fall (Sad to see you go) Ever thought of callin', darlin'? (Do I wanna know?) Do you want me crawlin' back to you?

[magic-is-something-we-create]

Hi magesmith

Do any of your characters have tattoos or other body markings?

hi hello!! thank you for dropping by for sts!!!! <3<3<3

many of my characters have tattoos and the like, yes!! particularly in Whispers, having/getting a certain tattoo is a major plot point, and the only characters who don't have that tattoo by the end are Lorelei, her sister Katya, and the various children in the narrative (the tattoo is a sign that you owe a life debt to the Whispers/the Shadow of Fowden, and she doesn't indebt anyone younger than twenty as a rule)

but there are a bunch of characters in TMS that have tattoos as well! part of the religious worldbuilding on ehl in general involves Lib, the goddess of art, also being the goddess of love, death, and history. people generally devote themselves to different goddesses depending on what they need guidance for in the coming time/what they want their life to focus on, so artists, historians, morticians, etc etc will often devote to Lib, and people looking for new love might temporarily devote to Her as well. any characters who have devoted themselves to Her have gotten a tattoo to symbolize that devotion - this includes:

- Autumn, who has gotten the devotional tattoo for two years, and so has a butterfly and a swirl of mist over one of her shoulders - Annie, who did the traditional devotion for every goddess at once when she was twenty, and has a thorned vine wrapping around her ankle - Isa has several on his right leg from mid-thigh down, including a Whiptail dragon, a Rillflower blossom, the phases of all six moons the night he was born, and a music box - Gab has a small star behind one of his ears - All characters who have been married in Ehlven tradition have matching hand tattoos signifying that marriage. This includes Aurora and Mahann Meywin (Annie, Gab, and several other characters' parents), and notably excludes Emerald and Actaea (Isa and Lakia's dad and grandmother, respectively) - Priestesses of Lib tend to be absolutely covered in tattoos, as they'll re-devote every year or so for as long as they choose to remain Priestesses, and they'll often go for bigger, more prominent tattoos than the average person, as part of being a Priestess in their tradition includes shaping yourself to look like your Goddess of choice (this also means a not insignificant number of Priestesses of Venn get tattoos as well, because Venn is often depicted as being made of inorganic materials like wood, metal, and cogs) - miscellaneous and sundry characters who devote to Lib, including Ember's foreman who has a full sleeve and half of both his chest and back covered in tattoos both commemorating his life of sailing, and his dedication to ship building as an art, and several other artistic side/unnamed characters

i also have plans for Lakia, Iggy, and several others to get tattoos over the course of the narrative, but i haven't decided what they are yet so im not including them here, and they won't be for religious reasons. just cool points bc thats what Lakia's all about

thank you again for the ask!!! i'll think up a good question and send it to u before i go to bed <3

[charles-simmons-fanfiction]

I want to talk about Mitzi Fabelman

I just watched The Fabelmans, and even though I already knew I would like it, I didn't expect it to this good and for it to feel this personal. Now, there are multiple things I could say about it, but what I really need to talk about is Mitzi, Sammy's mom.

I don't think I can truly express how much I love actually flawed characters. Characters that do actual mistakes, who are selfish, who really hurt others, and still aren't inherently bad. Because those are the character who feel real. In this case, it's different because she's not just a character, she's based off of an actual person, which only adds to that feeling. Mitzi feels complex, multidimensional. Out of all the characters, she's the one I can see as an real person the most (even though the whole family gives off this feeling too).

The image I get off her in the beginning of the movie is that she's this perfectly happy and artistic mom (almost that wife-that-dies-at-the beginning-of-the-movie vibe, y'know?), and I found interesting how much that view changed throughout the story. Partially is probably because Sam starts to get older and seeing things. Which leads to when he notices she's cheating on his dad with Bennie.

Then, Sammy starts to get colder with her, angrier too. Mitzi obviously notices and when he says he wishes she weren't his mother, she hits him. Something that she doesn't forget and feels extremely guilty about even months later. And the scene where she begs for him to forgive her hits particularly close to home to me (the one in the gifs above btw)

"I left a goddamn mark on your skin with the shape of my hand and I need you to say you forgive me for doing that"

She's not even saying a "sorry", that wouldn't be enough, they both know she's sorry, but she needs to know he forgives her. And we see once again how vulnerable Mitzi really is, and how aware she is of how much she's hurting the people who love her the most. But here's the thing: it would be so easy to decide she's the "villain" and the bad person, yet it is not that simple, and regardless of everything happening, we still understand her side so much.

"And yes, this is the most selfish thing I have ever done. But I've got to do this now, because Sammy, you do what your heart says you have to do. You don't owe anyone your life, not even me."

She knows how much her husbands loves and adores her, and she knows how much the divorce will impact her children, but most importantly, she knows it's a decision she has to take. Because sometimes, you have to put yourself first or else you'll never be happy.

"I don't know if it's the right thing, but it's a life and death thing for me."

I am in love with that, especially in a movie. Seeing a character actually take the "cruel and selfish" route for their lives, because it's still their lives, is incredible. To put all of the morality aside for once, because we can't live our life for others. And this acceptance that sometimes you will deliberately choose to do the bad thing just so you can be happy is very refreshing, and controversial, in a way.

I also particularly like seeing it in a mom. Our society tends to have a very strong mindset that the children should always come first in a mother's life, even if it makes her unhappy (and we do see how much Mitzi was hurting), so it's interesting to see her doing such a big decision only for herself and still getting sympathy.

Seriously, I could go on about all the amazing scenes with her and all the details there are and how they add to her complexity, but the main idea I had to say is already written. I love this movie, and I simply had to make this post, even not a single soul read it. But if you did though, thank you. Take care, and have a good day.

[problematicpervertpod]

recs on recs on recs

Yaoi/Manga I’m reading/have read. Please support the artists on official websites. If you have recs or want to chat about any of these get in my messages right the fuck now my dudes. Also spoilers, also this probably doesn’t make sense to anyone but me, also I think I’m funny sorry in advance.

Dangerous Convenience Store

Tags: Ongoing, self aware lead for the most part, gangs, smut, love triangle, possessive, not rapey, seme is like the fucking hulk compared to uke, college, age gap, good art, muscular bodies, seme is adorable/romantic in sp chapters, sexual awakening, meeting the gang (in two ways!), FAINTS OF CUTENESS/HOTNESS, the memes after every chapter got me gagged, HAHE hahahahahahahahahaha, OMG DO I GET SOME CNC?! (update: short lived), we stan a vocal man (Ahjussi), thigh fucking, my mans be like my thighs hurt fuck my ass instead DECEASED, ass smacking, these memes are so good god damnit, rimming

8/10, I live for Ahjussi (Am I spelling this wrong..)

The New Employee 

-love love love

Tags: ongoing, we stan supportive boyfriends, healthy relationship, boss/employee, smut, office setting, good art, 10/10 will re-read, muscular bodies

Love Shuttle

Tags: completed, ABO, enemies to lovers, possessive, coworkers, fake relationship, strong omega, the art sucks but I like the story, art gets better after the 1st season, alphas eyes change colors when happy/anxious, muscular bodies, 7/10, update 10/10 art is meh but fml this storyline is basic af in the best way and it’s the fluff/smut I need, when you’re caught by the folks *cringe*

Hold Me Tight

Tags: ongoing, boss/employee, bodyguard, gio can’t feel heat until felix comes along, uke is strong af, horny bastards, smut, possessive, tragic childhood, moving in together right away, rich seme, felix in a bunny costume though *heart eyes*, dialogue is great, rape in a technical sense but the vibe is written like both characters are all good after? Ex. hospital scene…dub con, ART IS GREAT, hand holding during sex, 10/10 will re-read, muscular bodies

Yours to Claim 

Tags: ongoing, love triangle, Dom/sub dynamics, smut, main is big switch energy, reincarnation, jealousy, manipulative, possessive, self aware lead for the most part, toxic af, GREAT ART, college, rich semes, 10/10 will re-read and not even finished, SONOFABITCH that cliff hanger!! Season 3 come thruuuu (I have to wait until November? *cries* BUT MAH LOVE TRIANGLE!!, I want a THROUPLE GOD DAMN IT

The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

Tags: obsessed with this story, will the incense burner scenes make it?? No tags because I'll never forget this one haha wangxian 5ever, send me all fanfics/fan art you have about this story, love Dark Wangji, Jadecest, ABO/omegaverse, Bottom Wangji/Top Wei Ying, and honestly anything regarding this fandom

Bj Alex

Tags: completed, great art, 11/10 will re-read, cam boy, fanboy, seme is an asshole, uke is so sexy, jealously, rich seme, enemies to lovers kind of?, CHANWOO IS MY BOY FOR LIFE, Chanwoo MD supremacy, BDSM (like really really), fuck I love Chanwoo, college students, rich seme, emotional rollercoaster, uke soft body, mean seme, college life, that one nosy bitch ass guy trying to expose my boys needs to fuck right off, seme split/fake personality, dub con 

Anti PT

Tags: ongoing, 11/10 re-readable, porn with feelings, love triangle, jealousy, attempted non-con, personal training wink wink, main love interest is actually the best, second male lead is a god damn creep, first time, smut, great art, sex addict/constantly horny uke, I WANT A HWI, 

Related: https://www.anime-planet.com/manga/anti-pt/recommendations 

Payback

Tags: ongoing, both are psychopaths tbh, revenge, gangs, uke sells himself to seme, violent seme, entertainment industry, brunette supremacy, what this motherfucker gonna do? hehe , great art, muscular bodies, dead dove do not eat, my mans must be GOOD looking/animal magnetism cause everyone losing their fucking minds, okay this is a comedy I’m dying, he tried to scare him with wanting to be a top but my psycho said REVERSEUNO BITCH I’M A VERSE (wait jk apparently *sigh*), anonymous masked sex (sad n’ kinky)

My Suha

Tags: ongoing, wow this gets dark, possessive af like holy shit, terrible people all around uke, rape, boss/employee, office politics/family politics, smut, characters that are punchable, dead dove do not eat, *velociraptor noises*, avoided this for a while but I’m back because nothing can be more emotionally devastating than Banana Fish, TIE HIM UP, FUCK HIS FACE ALKSJD:ASKD, FUCK SUHA UR SO HOT that dirty talk though YAS, glad I picked this back up lmao, GOD DAMN IT just when the package arrived then this red head fucker *screams*

Shame Application aka Dirty Vibration

Tags: completed, friends to lovers, model seme, cute af uke, love triangle, entertainment industry, smut, kink, all kinds of sex everywhere, realized feelings, mutual pining, jealousy, rich seme, blonde seme, big brother 1984 always watching, 10/10 would re-read, porn with plot, they were roommates!, ~straight~ seme, first times, great art, remembering some cringe but considering the story it’s par for the course

Will You Subscribe

Tags: ongoing, season 1 completed, enemies to lovers, cam boy, office politics, boss/employee, hiding a secret, public sex, stalkers/creepy men, emotionally stunted characters, mutual pining, idiots in lust, lingerie company, slut shaming, jealousy/possessiveness, season 2 bebeh, HOLDING HANDS *velociraptor noises*, LMAO okay my mans is not THAT old how tf does he not know netflix and chill, BUNNY COSTUME (quickly becoming my new fav trope in manga, A+ gang), oh we stan a good boy, wtf is wrong with wanting to do cam work, ‘I wish my marks could become permanent’ *omegaverse wink*, *works for lingerie company* *doesn’t understand where bf gets sexy costumes* like wut kind of fuckery…, cross dressing ftw, roleplay, classic BL miscommunication trope

Hyperventilation

Tags: completed, high school crush, unrequited love, mutual pining, smut, quickie (short story), class reunion, apparently furry with the extra chapter turning my man into a bunny but c'est la vie! https://myreadingmanga.info/korean-bl-animation-hyperventilation-engsub/ this is the animation of the same story, different endings but same in tone (this site is spammy AF but the English subs are so hard to find for this) 8/10 

Unmei no tsugai ga omae da nante

Tags: only one bed, ABO, office setting. Coworkers, enemies to lovers, competitive, equality in the omegaverse, dubcon, real dicks and not lightsabers, fated pair, art is cute af 8/10

K’s Secret

Tags: buckle up buttercup, dead dove do not eat, angst, pining, somnophilia, dub con, non con, boss/employee, manipulative, stalking, forced relationship, tragic childhood background, weird art but gets better,  uke: don’t threaten me with a good time but seriously stop threatening me, possessive & obsessive, seme is like the fucking hulk compared to uke, wow were going full psycho stalker hm?, dating a narcissist is all fun and (mind)games, con non con… ? honestly who tf knows, domestic!, OW MY HEART, the t/n WAP note sent me, ch 51 translated by gen z, do special ep= furry? Wait there’s a maid costume, bunny costume, directors friends keeping it real, rough translations 8/10

Enthusiasm

Tags: ongoing, dead dove do not eat, uke buys seme, masc boys, muscular bodies, fight club, master/slave, rich uke, revenge, real dicks not lightsabers, rough sex, cuckholding, daddy issues, suicide, wow the end of ch 5 punched a hole in my heart, penile implant life,  rough translations makes the storyline wonky, nvm back to lightsabers *star wars noises*, HAD ME FEELING SOME TYPE OF WAY I CAN NOT, shibari, possessive, wait this is cute *velociraptor noises*, angst, no kithes for you “bestie”, OBSESSED, honestly choke him pupper, STAY THE NIGHT ALKSDJA:SLDKJAS:LKDJA:SLDKj, problematic but I’m riding for these two, 

Ichimai Goshi Fetish

Tags: completed, short, fetishes DO start in childhood don’t they *ruminates*, author: describes ML as a beautiful 2D character meanwhile: ML IS 2D character, fellas is it gay to kiss the homies?, “real dudes don’t interest me” is a MOOD, comedy, jealousy, college setting, dialogue is A+, not lightsabers but not dicks either, first time, when you’re fucked so good you think you’ve died, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R4uEq5Nx6ko, hero/villain roleplay. Fluff n smut 10/10

My Purrfect Boss

Tags: completed, tooth rotting fluff because blondie is so FUCKING cute little sensitive soul, golden retriever boyfriend, pure comedy, DECEASED, MY MAN JUST DID THE SLOW BLINK, office setting, boss/employee, ~wasted~ (red dead redemption meme),  FFS SO CUTE, he put a ring on it right away beyonce would be proud af, he protecc he attack but most importantly he hit it from the back, jealousy, honeymoon phase of dating, the ex is a snake (update: oh wow literally), I’m picking up abuse/PTSD vibes based on how Kang reacts to his ex :(, classic BL miscommunication plot, immediately no meme audio (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o6XWSGfYnps) ,  I WILL STRAIGHT UP MURDER CHA WTF!!!!!!, gang rape, spiked with drugs that force heat, me rn:*screaming/rage*, psychotic ex/abuser, HE PROTECCC, actual relief after that scene jesus fuck, okay YES kings I see you, okay this is giving me cuteness aggression, hi yes I’d like to adopt a cat and a dog please 9/10

Following Namsoo to the Bathhouse

Tags: completed, same author as, “My Purrfect Boss”, A+ comedy once again, JUNIOR, gay awakening, “fap myself to death” DEAD, facial expressions are ridic, my minds telling me no but my body, my bodyyyy’s telling me yaaaaa, ya boy is literally losing his mind over this, actual lightsabers lmao, FLUFF, permasmile, 6969, THINKS THEY’RE GOING TO EAT RAMEN, dense gay, own your skin wtf okay hannibal calm down, everyone is officially cray,  ah I also am barfy when drunk, denial really is something hm, classic BL miscommunication plot, when people pleasing too far, happy ending 🥺🥰, side story: our crazy gets his very own crazy (ashton Kutcher from spread vibes), public sex, sex sparkle 9/10

Alien in my Closet

Tags: ongoing (maybe completed but def ongoing on the site I use), not rapey at all?? You’d think it’s impossible in this medium ffs, anti pt vibes, cute art, fluff ‘n smut, red head!!, they were roomates!, sex toys, bsdm, D/s (brat)dynamic or maybe owner/pet, bondage, *tiffany hadish voice* this is noiceeee, con humiliation/degradtion, SANTA CLAUS, edging, marking, one lotus please (he’s clearly read the 4 agreements and karma sutra), con non con, exhibitionism, the wrist thing stays on people, Katoptronophilia,  roleplay, is it stalking when you bring your friends?, lotus: welcome home cheater, the chin on the head thing gives me cuteness aggression, the twins are my favs, when ur crush vanilla af 😭, haesung: experiment on me daddy, no dick until halfway through/fingering supremacy, bedroom sessions has me gagged, voyeurism, wait they haven’t kissed this whole time I forgot (audio: https://www.tiktok.com/@ryley/video/6976701880277748997?lang=en), sunbae is sus, YES FINALLY A FUCKING SWITCH COUPLE AKJSDHALKSJDHASKLJDHALS KJDALKSJD (update: sort of), there’s a missed opportunity for an anal probe joke, damn it okay maybe sunbae is chill, 3 musketeers, my heart*implodes*, *velociraptor noises*, 12/10 would re-read such fluff my heart 

On Doorstep

Tags: completed, age gap, reese has ptsd, jimmy going from 0 to 100, jimmy really got down on his knees at work, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) deepest part you say, real dicks, ride him like a rodeo, quickie/short story, porn with plot

Gorani Jeon

Tags: ongoing, omegaverse, no alpha though, animal hybrid, art is beautiful like it's drawn on paper not a screen, 40 inch weave yours came in a pack, historical (non-modern), lord send me a sexy man pls, the memes after each chapter are golden, taking the phrase licking wounds literally, is that an eggplant or are you just happy to see me hehe, ahhh so inhibitors do exist here, vertical 69, here lays Bau fucked to death by Ran, WHY HE TOUCHING MY MAN, these chickens are dope, stomp on his dick, that’s what I call a happy meal, fucked right out the front door I’M DEAD, mpreg, i need a tiger+mountain god spin off (whoops dad/son my bad), slice of life, cute fluff 8/10

Room to room

Tags: completed, college setting, A+ dialogue, absurd size difference, unrequited love,  sexsomina, dubcon, angst, death by a thousand cuts emotionally, insecurity, body envy, pining, friends to lovers, they were roommates!, homophobia, sexual assault, PTSD, gays in denial, the tattoo 🥺 ow my heart, truly this is 90% smut, “going from unrequited love to fwbs is shittier than I expected”, dowan *bad blood by t swift* when he sees garam, ch 22garam reminds me of my ex and that’s not a compliment, I’m not gay but my boyfriend is vibes, triflers need not apply, spanking, 😭😭😭😭😭 my heart hurts, is anyone getting a bit of a puppy play vibe? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vni9ZWmDXis, handcuffs, lots of head we stan, dowan’s gotta a touch of a foot thing or maybe body worship thing, asdlfgkjs ;dlkfgjsd;flkgj;sdflkgj;sdlfgjs;d/gkdf SO CUTEEEEEEEEEEE, roleplay. They broke the bed no use of crying over spilled milk ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), side stories delivering man in uniform and sex toys AND puppy, asdlkjaslfkasdjfl;askdfjasdf the shirt thing is so hot, watersports, I take it back this is 98% smut 9/10

Mistake Lover

Tags: completed, when ur bff is back on their BS, love triangle, coworkers, i swear all these ukes look the same to me at this point (which is very cute), GE!!!! (wangxian flashbacks), wait no smut?.... Paused

Yagi to ookami no hatsujou jijou

Tags: completed, quickie/short story, literally on my reading list because a comment said “nice cock 10/10”hahahaha, animal hybrids, scifi/aliens, me during chapter one: am I a furry? No. Am I? Relevant audio https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=noJNIqvDfoo, hotties when human GOD DAMN, bi king, okay I stan this girl changing gears take your opportunities honey!, does blondie have a tinder or how is this happening? (update: called it), feminization, dubcon/noncon, marking, heats, idk about 10/10 cock but not lightsabers, translation is ruff (get it?), a yankee hahaha, literal wound licking, googles chimera, *claps* yes king selfish call his ass out, tail holding caaaayoooot, not that isn’t usually copious amounts of cum but really this is a lot 8/10

Make Me Bark

Tags: completed, $250 a month rent?? *cries in Californian*, god damn it these grey haired 2D men are really hot fml, “next months rent is a looming concern but I hope it’ll get better” followed by apartment on fire is how I feel about reality, rare characters that smile way more than they frown, sex toys, kink, puppy play, owner/pet dynamic, sugar daddy/baby, college setting, harness, muzzle, leash, tail plug, shirt thing!!, soaked briefs, playing barbie IRL, omg meet cute at the adult store, intercrural sex, possessive/jealousy, ah fuck yes I saw this panel on IG but it didn’t have the source but now hehe, whipping, choking, spanking, *bookmarks*, simp city, childhood friends, side couple cute af, yeonsoo: sorry I’m an anti romantic, size queen, mens lingerie, domestic, mutual pining,  these bestie pairings are *chefs kiss*, skinny but muscular bodies/no ridiculous size differences, “does he have a big dick?” “probably” “well tell him to come” GAGGED AJKSDHALSKDJHA this dialogue pure comedy, exhibitionism, human auction, maid costume, men in heels, topping in a dress, girl at the bus stop HAHAHA, ffs this is so cute, side stories: it’s a small world afterall, dynamic role reversal, pink haired boy is guru, SCREAMING AKDJA:SLDKJA:LKDJA:LSDKJLAKDJA:LDJAL:SKDJASLKDJA:SLKDJLAKSDJLASDJ:LASJD:ALSKDJASL:DJ:ASLJDPUTARINGONIT!!!! 11/10 

Gurume no fukurami

Tags: completed, quickie/short story, food fetish, feeding fetish, age gap, throuple-eqsue? There’s 3 people involved, paused ch 1 pg 30

Under the Green Light

Tags: ongoing, thank you IG for rec’ing this, brunette supremacy, neurodivergent?, lmao @hag, this statue is everything I wonder if it’s based on a real piece?, we went from talking art to being pinned to the ground REAL quick, translations rough but not as rough as my mans here, draw me like one of your french girls vibe, sass master, these dicks are ridiculously huge which is saying something for this genre, i love a verse/switch, “first time he’s asked someone to stop so his self-esteem is hurt” HAHAHAHA, stealing bae’s shirt, facials galore, car sex/public sex, jin not into praise kink clearly, sort of slut shaming jealousy, marking

Walk on Water

Tags: completed, for being about porn it’s not that smutty (i take it back), “don’t even think about running away” got me like https://giphy.com/gifs/VABbCpX94WCfS, actual dicks (lightsabers later must be the cleaners not the OG), muscular bodies, blonde seme, brunette uke, k mcqueen is everything, honestly haven’t loved a couple this much since chanwoo x MD and I LOVE THEM, jealousy, orgasm denial, the angles/frames of the art in this are insane (11/10), emotional intimacy CUTENESS HASIHDLASKDHJLAKSJDH, i wanna lick lick lick you from your head to your toes, dirty talk A+, bestie you turned out to be Judas you judgy fuck how dare you touch my man, Ryan is 50 shades of fucked up bb needs therapy, Chang and yeowoons sexual tension is *chefs kiss*, I ship it/all my ships sailing, woof non con but expected tbh, YEAH BABY YEAH *Austin powers voice*, fml I don’t want this story to end, meeting the Hets ™ would make me nervous too, spiderman kith, mirror sex sjkadfhasldjkfh, 34+35, JOI but with a partner? Not D/s, promises are made to broken hehe, that feeling when you understand the title, omg the fan art is so cool!! 15/10 would re-read seriously I can’t explain how well the artist used angles/how she portrayed the scenes was fucking MASTERFUL

Woof Wolf

Tags: that's my best friend (saweetie), red heads, werewolf au, college setting, students, shoot a shot in your mouth while I'm riding, facials, marking

Sexual Awakening of an Ex Delinquent 

Tags: completed, quickie/short story, sexual coercion/non con/dub con, tiddies, bondage, nipple play, edging/orgasm denial, candy in ass wow, food kink, kink in general, rich seme working class uke, lightsabers,  big dick Jesus fuck, exhibitionism, public sex, men's lingerie, Blondie is a sweet baby angel, self hatred/homophobia, sexual narrating that has me like oof 😣 that's not how this works but okay, the sweet spots thing is a great line, man is a slave to the sweets, lmao at the meme at the end of ch 9 fucking facts, kidnapping plot, rapey guys all around this story, tattoo/back story reveal has me like *nods head yes*, my throats broken has me gagged, crazy amount of sfx noises that distract from the art (I really appreciate cleaners I realize), first times, rushed ending feels,  would rate 6/10 not terrible but probably won't read again.  

With Your Tail Yes

Tags: ongoing, IG rec, quickie/short story, on man brunette looks EXACTLY like a different character by another artist like for real duplicate, home boy pulled Elle Wood’s Bend n Snap and we are HERE FOR IT, lingerie/cross dressing, okay compilation of short stories, great artwork but wtf these are far too short (maybe uploaded wrong..?), *immediately makes deal with the devil because yum*, ah okay previews THEN stories, human animal hybrid situation, lightsabers, fucking imagine your crush delivery the sex toy you ordered online HAHA *dies*, buys toys because men ain’t shit is a VIBE, you know he’s always wearing matching sets because he’s 100% that bitch, dub con/non con, knotting (unexpected), exhibitionism, public sex, good ol’ fashion blackmail to get your lover to stay with you trope, sexual assault/attempted rape, victim blaming, shibari, leashes, D/brat dynamic sort of, copious amounts of cum, lube? What lube?, marathon sex, first time, 75 hours?? Immediately no meme, 7/10 mostly for art/concepts but not execution

Heat and Run

Tags: ongoing, IG rec, omegaverse, friends to enemies to lovers, multiple couples as main to sides then sides to mains, my heart dropped because I thought the first sex scene was incest but then realized I’m mixing up all the characters derp, dense gays, this is america (the shooting comment WOOF reality feels bad man), blondes have more fun, real dicks, dubcon/CNC dealers choice, mutual pining, idiots in love, big alpha energy BDE, there are moments I feel Hayoung on a spiritual level and not sure that’s a compliment hahaha, orgasm denial/edging, istg if he bonded without Hayoung permission *jenna marbles BOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII YOU BETTAH NOT*, also I was hoping the idol was him but realizing it’s probs his sis, *deep sigh*, BDIRL, wow racism, oh no oh no no no no no meme audio, listen everyone needs to get into therapy to break that generational trauma is all I’m saying (not excusing abuse at all, trauma isn’t a free pass), NO ONE WANTS TO PLAY A GAME WITHOUT KNOWING THE RULES :ALKSDHJALKSDJA:SLKDJTRUE, matthew singing bo burnham: I’m problematic *background singers ‘he’s a problem!’*, i ship it yolo, JAEHO STAN (no means no!), mpreg, god damn it I am so worried about him getting roofie and the party scene hasn’t even started ABO WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TOO ME, OH THANK JAEHO, dayummmm that clapback was real fuck him UP, me clapping: MARK HIM MARK HIM, GOD DAMN IT WITH THESE ONGOING FUCKING CLIFF HANGERS FML, marked via knotting? Okay that’s new, but also like normal marking I think, fucking til bottom pees trope

Heaven Officials Blessing

Animated series season 1 complete. Live action currently filming (same director as Untamed too UGH SO HAPPY)

Tags: ongoing, same author as my fav ever MDZS, just finished season 1 animated on netflix and can no longer avoid this because I LOVE THEM, all the memes on IG make sense now, Prince voice: Dearly Beloved (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXJhDltzYVQ) we are gathered here today to dive deeper into a fandom I will never escape, ART IS AMAZING (https://tenor.com/view/incredible-talented-lady-brilliant-gaga-gif-14857187), group chats are always chaotic tbh, wait a minute meme audio: bride = bottom? How tf did I not get that the first time round *sigh* always hoping for a verse couple, the asst. Boys I ship hard, the sass, fuck this is going to just be pure angst isn’t it *straps in, has fluffy manga queued*, even if no smut 11/10 gege porn, not subtle, god FUCK this ART IS SO FUCKING GOOD THE TALENT skjas;ldkfja;, 🥺, traumatic cliff moment *mdzs flashbacks*, HC smirk is my new favorite thing, no fucking but lots of touching, size difference, horror, gore, wuxia, great side characters, my ear feels tingly too lmao, SOMEONE BETTER GET THESE MF SNAKES ON THIS MF PLANE (cliff), umbrella moments got me uwu, gimme at least didi pleaseandthankyou, FUCK I LOVE THIS ARTIST she keeping us WELL fed with these extras DAYUM, wind/earth master ship please sail, CALL ME DADDY IM DEAD, HC has LWJ energy like you are not qualified to talk to me LOL, WAIT this totally counts as there was only one bed trope, also I’m already excited about omegaverse ff (send me recs please please please)

4 week lovers

Tags: ongoing because apparently I want to torture myself, mutual pining/”unrequited love”, college life, friends to lovers, blackmail ur crush into sex trope, public sex, I was going to tag possessive body language but possessive in a general sense apparently (starting strong yessss), sure jan @unrequited love dialogue, THEY WERE ROOMMATES *cackles*, sus haha, rough translation, pure comedy, shirt thing!, casual abuse :( (back story, traumatic childhood), I’m getting TharnType vibes (but not quite…), that note is precious, cry during/after sex, great angles, dialogue A+ 

Burlesque Night

Tags: completed, quickie/short story, stripper/body guard, coworkers, lust at first sight, magic mike vibes, fridays = getting fucked on stage O-O, well that was traumatizing af, took a bullet, real dicks, LDR, CUTE, I’m not in love with you… sure jan, OH WOW MASTER dlksaj;alsdkja;lsdkja;sld, gay awakening/first time, the art detail is *chefs kiss*, disappointed but not surprised :( :( :(, we stan a yes and lover, shirt thing, still not sure wtf the vertical anus thing is but full circle moment haha, you know what fuck it I’d re-read this 9/10

My one and only cat

Tags: ongoing, cat hybrids, god damn it I’m totally in furrydom ffs, ah well here we go, idol hot = loneliness wahhh /s, so hot he literally transforms other beings, omg a cat cafe CUTE, fuck that cat is cute *so fluffy*, stalker status, comedy, real dicks, I think the uncle would be supportive/jealous even I hope they talk about it I’m dying to know his thoughts, big tiddies, if this ain’t the cutest shit FLUFF/SMUT, copious amounts of cum, ate it with the panties on, CAKE, xmas, his milkshakes bring all the boy(cats) to the yard, trifling bitch

Imitation Mate

Tags: completed, omegaverse, alpha x alpha. Class rivals YAS, childhood frans, enemies to lovers omg this is all the shit I want, manipulation 1000 but yolo I ship it

Mr. 100% Perfect

Tags: ongoing, so relatable, OCD?, hoarder, when I read the title I thought mental illness and I was right, masks ugh RELATABLE, getting back together w ex, woof sibling drama/manipulation, suicide attempt, omg their communication regarding the psycho is REFRESHING, OMG JEJU ISLAND I see it in every fucking kdrama ever but this is the first time I’ve seen it mentioned in a manga *hm* interesting, furry furry everywhere, eye contact, finished reading season 1 pause for an omergaverse cause, okay I’m back and season 2 starting STRONG #1 men are gross #2 mans just went right to a blowie while mf was trying to pee lmao i can NOT the germs barf, fuckboi extraordinaire stressing over a textback is *great*, that istg face is perfect, HYUNGGGG, hand on his heart OW MY HEART, vibe check LOL, here for this plot dev, END OF SEASON2 NOOOOOOOimnotready. Head bonks CUTE

The origin of species

Tags: ongoing, omegaverse, sex tape, blackmail, i already don’t like this teacher, size difference, ‘JUST DIE’ hahahahahaha, I’m in love with noona, wait Ahjussi means uncle/mister? Dangerous convenience store has a new meaning to me now, DECEASED @they won’t, copious amounts of cum, alcohol to have intimacy *sighs in early 20s*, also WTF THEY ARE FUCKING AND THERE’S NO PHERMONE STUFF! What’s the point of being ABO without smell *swaggy p meme???*, wait okay ch 11 it begins, stockholm syndrome but since childhood I’m fairly certain *looking at you teacher I don’t trust these mfs*, dubcon obviously, also the can’t be knotted thing has me *cardi b meme that’s weird that’s sus* obvs poor bb about to get preg af, five word horror story: I won’t hurt you again *why tf you lyinggggg why u always lyinggg meme*, white collar crime, what’s the point of a contract when there’s no actual choice

How to Chase an Alpha

Tags: ongoing, lowkey been avoiding this one not because I think it’ll be bad I just..idk the brain is a weird thing, page 2 and I love mains attitude fucking gagged sass me bb, starting with rough translation but it be that way sometimes, GROUNDS HIMSELF BY TOUCHING HIS BLACK CARD I CANTTT, pheromone city fuck it UP, MC is a MOOD, mutual pining, when u and bae both hire PI’s to get info on each other, R-E-S-P-E-C-T, shirt thing, fucking chuffed about the rival fucking bring it, funny art, cheated on ugh mah heart I saw it coming and it still hurt, pure comedy this airport scene is so funny to me wtf, LDR, good ol murica fuckboi, LOVE HIM RIDE FOR UR MAN/MORALS, liams a little rapey rapist hm? No one’s ever said no… well being flooded with pheromones isn’t consent my dude, istg liam = I love it when they struggle, obvs jealousy/possessive tag but such is ABO, cat suit, BUNNY suit, sexy costumes, god damn it I love them that proposal/mpreg so cute, imprinting AW, ugh baes fam is so cute I needed that bc I wanna strangle wooyoungs dad, THE SECETARY is my fucking fav never stops being A+, SEC+LIAM?? Here for it *i ship it*, FUCK SO CUTE 12/10 re-read, fluff n smut, excited for how to chase an omegaside story hyung needs love!, JINI is mood, sales king I’m dying, that collar is ~hot~ btw

Egoism

Tags: completed (because jesus I can’t with ongoing, theheartbreakTM), UPDATE FML THE HEART BREAK IS REAL also no smut, omegaverse, hey stepbro, starts with rape, possessive/jealousy (isn’t all ABO?), age difference (6years, alpha is younger *can I get hyung plz lord*), HYUNG, woof this dad SUCKS, child abuse, rape culture *sigh*, I wanna get jacked like rick and summer and beat tf out of the dad, me n my cat, TELL EM HONEY I love this MC, traitor indeed, beta x omega btw, fated pair, coercive sex, didi going to be his own demise, BREAKUP/TIME SKIP NO this is BL hell, the rona is mentioned in this, ALL I WANT IS TO HEAR YOUR STORY WAHHHHHHHHHH also YES MY SHIP IS GOING TO SAIL I CAN FEEL IT, okay honestly frustrating a bit but also liked it yah 7-8/10, won’t re-read unless I’m looking for hurt though cause the comfort is BRIEF

Yarichin bitch bu

Tags: ongoing, reading because I watched this anime after seeing it mentioned in the comment section of -im-being-harassed-by-the-sexiest-man-of-the-year, anime was 2 eps a fucking wild the way this is uploaded SUCKS, no reality porn what plot rape-y ridiculous and now I need to read the source apparently haha, I need to know much more about yuri and blue hair guy ASAP (they have the spin off*adds to list*), high school setting, smut, studentsxstudents/teachers, photography club my ass, sex toys, kinky, crossdressing, gay awakening, unrequited love, jealousy, fake relationship, two faced people, OCD, COMEDY, rich people problems, hoarder, inferiority complex, one bed, toono is a dumbass in this love triangle or denial might be a better word, they are cousins my dude stop shipping it (I say to both toono and myself LOL), I wanna see Yuri’s face laksdjf;aldskf, vibrator #18 line is fucking iconic, yaguchi is about to get real interesting (BPD?), lies/manipulation, oh toono you sweet summer child, YURI i can’t wit chu, wait did he just punch the student because he won’t kiss him or???, dubcon/noncon obvs, finally my verse couple but they’re not a couple (yuri/tamu), they all care about each other is a weird way awwww, love confessions to pet vibrator scene are ICONIC MY DUDES I CAN NOTTT, lowkey living for Yuri’s drooling at this point, Jimi gives me such bad second hand embarrassment, Yuri the switch verse bb I’ve been looking for need more!, internalized homophobia, blackmail, MIDDLE FINGER IN THE AIR YAS KING, the heartbreak of ongoing/hasn’t been updated in years

Yarichin bitch bu dj wa

Tags: not completed I think, years old though, see above you know what it is, so cute omg, FIRST KISS AW, degradation kink?, MY VERSE COUPLE I’ve finally found you, biting, choking, rough sex, sex toys, they had fun together for another two hours DECEASED

Fucked by my Best Friend

Tags: ongoing, friends to lovers, body swap, Porn what plot, cannon threesomes in past maybe??(MFF for sure but MMF??), beach life, revenge, he became a HOT woman so honestly get over it, sloppy seconds, first off you’re both sluts second lmao this is going to be wild hm?, fellas is it gay if you kiss the homies, classic did you cum guy jfc, that’s how you get preg dumbass, ah the joys of being a woman /s assault in der clrub, *DEEP SIGH* @ you almost being raped turns me on, YES TURNING BACK DYING, gender has nothing to do with this LOL but true. Also yes cannon threesomes/orgies, googles frotting, mans like narrating playtime, intecurial sex public sex, lingerie, this is the closest thing to straight manga I’ve read hahaha, THE SCIENCE OMG FUCKING RIDIC :you need a mass amount of semen within you SURE JAN, possessive. Objectification, she trying to fuck without Shion LMAO, 34+35, do you think he’s on r/nofap, dry orgasm honestly impressed with mans rn ngl, spit as lube, anal fingering, just helping the homies find their prostate, bottom shaming (disappointed but not surprised), bis/gays in denial smh, question if he has a wet dream will he turn into a woman?, shirt thing, lol at female orgasm =anal in switcharoos mind, paging doc perv, shion is enjoying dressing up hm? Same dude, biggest reality gap is believing shion got admitted to a college HAHA, bad anatomy all over the place dude, rui is a dedicated exhibitionist, HE SO TIGHT BECAUSE THERES NO LUBE team no lube over here apparently not even a courtesy spit, yandere territory sort of?, Mayu with the dick wet comment is *chefs kiss*, THE HEARTBREAK OF ONGOING WAHHH I can’t believe I read all this but I can? 8/10 problematic possessive porn

[sylverstorms]

Donna x Elena ----From Winter to Spring

This is a commission written for the lovely @saltwatereulogies and I cannot thank you enough for all your support! I hope you enjoy the story :)

She doesn’t know how she escaped that nightmarish inferno. How she still draws breath. Why her body keeps running despite its condition and despite the fact that she has lost everything.

The village is gone. Everyone she knew is either dead or a monster. She watched her own father growl like a beast and cleave a woman in half, then soon after wail out her name and succumb to the flames swallowing up the building. There is nothing left. There is nothing left for her.

Why? Elena wonders. A trail of blood marks her path through the snow, towards the unknown. Why still fight?

It will be easier to surrender to the agonizing burns, to the open gashes and wood splinters stuck in her skin. It will be far, far simpler to stop pressuring her rattling lungs to provide oxygen and fall into the snow, instead. It looks… peaceful. Soft. Pure.

It will welcome her to a quiet death, she thinks, so she may join her friends and her father.

Her father. The man who had never reached his hand out to help her when she fell –either on the fields or when she tripped over hardships— yet had always been there in his own stubborn, strict way, telling her to pick herself up.

“I didn’t raise no quitter.”

Ah, is that why.

Perhaps part of her feels it owes it to him to try. She did miraculously survive the fiery wreckage she’d initially thought would be her grave. But… the odds just aren’t with her.

Elena is only human. She’s lost too much blood, been through too much punishment. Her vision is growing blurrier by the second, her legs more sluggish. When she steps on grass instead of snow, she believes her mind is now playing tricks on her, too.

Something smells sweet, like wildflowers.

That is the last thing Elena is aware of, before she drops to her knees and blacks out.

-

-

When she blinks her eyes open, she is… confused.

She never thought heaven nor hell would have a wooden ceiling. She wouldn’t have guessed pain follows one into the afterlife, either, yet there she is, prone and throbbing with every weak breath on a bed too comfortable to be her own.

Unless…

Unless she’s not dead. Unless, against all odds, she survived a second time only to suffer some more. Elena wants to cry. What cruel game is the universe playing with her? The luck she never had in life is suddenly gracing her in extreme bursts now that she doesn’twant it.

“She’s awakeeee!” an overly excited voice exclaims somewhere around the room. Elena is too dizzy to tell.

“Shh.” A second presence makes itself known, calming the first.

“Who…” Who are you, Elena tries to say, but the words never make it past her dry throat.

Heels tap against the floor, until a black-clad figure comes to peer down at her. Elena expected to see the face of her savior, yet all she sees is a ghost, its visage hidden behind a mourning veil. The image is jarring; it sends her heartbeat skyrocketing, which doesn’t help her condition.

Oh, Lord, Oh, Lord what… Elena wants to tell herself she’s dreaming. It isn’t real, none of this is real—

Until a doll jumps into the edge of her bed and says something she doesn’t hear over the sound of her hoarse scream.

The ghost flinches backwards as the world turns dark once more.

-

-

The second time she opens her eyes, hours or days later, the pain has subsided somewhat.

Elena can feel her body, at least. All the wounded parts are carefully wrapped in gauzes and all her burns are covered by a soothing salve. Her lungs no longer hiss when she inhales, so long as she does so slowly, evenly.

That, of course, is not so easy to do when she turns to her left and sees the ghost sitting there, an open book in her lap. The veil is still on, obscuring her features, but Elena takes note of her fingers as they cradle the spine of the tome, long and pale, manicured black.

Appearances aside, there is a certain calm about her that doesn’t feel threatening.

“I… I’m not hallucinating, am I?” she whispers, not trusting her voice to go any higher.

The mystery woman tenses as though her voice has startled her. “…No.” she eventually replies. Her voice is quiet, like the rest of her.

“Did… you save me…?” A single nod is all she gets in return. Her company doesn’t seem very comfortable speaking, but Elena has questions that she needs answered. “Where am I?”

“The Beneviento estate.”

Elena would gasp if she could. I made it that far? And this woman… is she really Donna Beneviento? Her father told her all she needed to know about the four Lords residing at the outskirts of the village. He had also told her to avoid them at all costs.

“Um. I’m Elena—” A cough cuts her off. The sudden motion causes every injury across her body to burn.

“…I know.”

She is too much pain, in that moment, to ask how Donna knows.

-

-

In the following days, Elena comes to accept a few things that would have normally made her question her sanity;

The doll is alive. Her name is Angie and she is Donna’s friend. Donna is the adopted daughter of Mother Miranda, who, upon the former’s request, has given her permission for Elena to remain in the mansion. When she asked what would have happened had she denied, the doll only sing-songed that she doesn’t really want to know.

It still plagues her mind, probably because she has far too much time to think and this is the only thing she can focus on, lest she starts crying over and over again.

When Donna comes to change her bandages, it is a relief.

The woman sits at the edge of her bed, at the absolute maximum distance. Elena slowly brings her body to a semi-reclining position to assist. Angie hops on the bed and pulls the covers to the side… and that is when they arrive to a standstill. Donna doesn’t move, Elena doesn’t know what to do.

“Um. May I?” the veiled woman motions with her –admittedly very elegant— hands. It’s… endearing, how she approaches the subject of touching her.

Elena nods and tries to be a good patient for her. Tries being the key word. When she’s not fighting for her life, she is not nearly as brave in the face of pain. Her teeth are gritted as Donna’s cool hands unwrap the gauzes at her right arm, her eyes closed, breath held.

“…Am I hurting you?” Donna asks, quiet as ever.

“No.” Elena forces herself to exhale. “No, you’re… very gentle.”

Donna nods and continues with the same measured movements. Elena doesn’t want to look at her wounds, afraid of what she’ll find there, so she turns to the veiled visage of her companion. She wishes she could see her face. Wonders what she may look like, what flaw she’s trying to hide.

Until a bandage catches on a particularly bad burn and Elena cries out.

Her whole body jumps—

Donna’s hands fly to her shoulders, keeping her steady with surprising strength, yet she steps away the very next second as though she’s been scorched.

Elena bites her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. There you go, making her uncomfortable…

Angie takes over for a while, also quite precise. Elena peeks down to realize she isn’t in as terrible a condition as she may have imagined. Scars will be left, no doubt, but she will probably heal well enough.

Then the last difficult spot comes up. She knows it when Angie warns: “You need to stay still here.”

“No, no wait!” Elena pleads. “I—I can’t.” I can’t, I can’t deal with this again, not again—

But Donna sits back next to her and her mere presence calms her down. “You are very strong, Elena. This is the last one.” she says.

“Hold me down.” Elena requests.

Donna doesn’t seem to like the idea. Still, she slowly brings her hand back over the uninjured part of Elena’s shoulder. “It’ll be alright.” she whispers.

“On three.” Angie says. “One… Two…”

She pulls the bandage on two and Elena would jump high enough to burst through the ceiling if it wasn’t for Donna. When the agony subsidies she realizes she’s sobbing helplessly, clutching at the dollmaker’s sleeves for dear life.

“Shh, I’m sorry, it’s over now. It’s over.” Donna’s slender fingers comb through her unruly hair.

The brunette closes her eyes and lets her head drop back down into her pillow, but she doesn’t let go of the dollmaker right away. She smells like the flowers outside her house,she thinks.

She feels like a safe space, steady, in a world that’s broken and tilted for Elena.

-

-

Gradually, Donna talks to her more. Gradually, Elena tests her body’s limits until she is strong enough to walk around the house on her own.

Angie is with her, most of the time, but she knows it’s less a security measure and more one for her safety. Her mental connection to Donna is something Elena cannot grasp nor understand, but she tries to.

The first time she manages to get to the living room, Elena stops and stares at the painting of Donna adorning the wall opposite her.

“…is that her?” she asks Angie.

“Of course!” the doll replies excitedly. “I am so proud of that one, the artist did a great job! Mistress Donna looks splendid, but it is me who steals the show!”

Elena can’t look away from the canvas. Why is she so familiar…? “Is that what she looks like?”

“Well, excluding a scar she wishes to hide. Kind of like my face. We match.” Angie answers, giving her version of a grin.

For the rest of the day, Elena sneaks glances at Donna, then the painting. It isn’t proper, she knows, but she’s curious. And… surely, no scar is enough to justify hiding that cute face from the world?

-

-

Weeks pass. Elena has healed well and she owes it all to Donna.

The two of them have grown closer in the time the former’s injuries have forced them together, close enough to have tea in the mornings and brief chats over common interests throughout the day.

When the weather grows a tad warmer, Elena asks the dollmaker to take a stroll with her outside. She sees the decorated graves, of course, but she knows better than to ask. She doesn’t want their time to be poisoned by grief. The scars of losing loved ones run deep, she knows this too well and they never really heal.

The two of them are basking in comfortable silence for a while, until a thought that feels impossible not to be voiced strikes Elena.

“Donna.” she speaks.

“Hm?”

“When I first woke up and I told you my name… you said ‘I know’.”

“…yes.”

“I’m sure we’ve never met before…?” Elena stops and turns to face her companion. Donna mirrors her.

“How certain are you?” she asks. Upon Elena’s obvious confusion, she elaborates; “As a child, I used to visit the village with my father. In one of those visits, some of the kids made fun of my scar. A boy, especially, was saying some very mean things.”

Elena starts to recall one such incident in the blurry images of her childhood.

“You stopped him.” Donna says. Pauses. “…with a punch to the face.”

Elena raises a hand to her mouth, but a quick laugh escapes her anyway. “I did?” A nod. “No way.”

“You did.”

“It couldn’t have been a strong one, though.” Elena giggles.

“I don’t know. Rumor has it he still hasn’t gotten up, to this day…” The little exhale of a chuckle that escapes Donna makes something in Elena bloom and flutter.

She wants nothing more in that moment than to lift the damned veil and see the face of the gentlest, kindest woman she’s ever met.

-

-

The winter eventually gives way to spring. The earth heals from the wounds of the cold like Elena has, under Donna’s care.

She no longer has doubts about what she feels, what she wants. It is only a matter of overcoming her fears and nervousness. Only a matter of finding the right timing and the appropriate setting.

Elena has rehearsed the words she needs to say many times in her dreams and thoughts, yet she finds herself tongue-tied and completely lost on what to do in reality. She has asked Donna to walk with her, taken her to where the waterfall calms into a river… and now struggles to summon her voice.

“What is it, Elena?” Donna, ever the sweetheart, asks. “You know you can tell me anything… right?”

“What if…” she hesitantly begins. “What if I can’t tell you? …can I show you, instead?”

“Of course.”

Elena takes a deep breath and chastises herself to woman up. One little step brings her into Donna’s personal space. Her hand raises to the edge of the veil, blue eyes searching for a sign she should stop. The dollmaker is tense, but she hasn’t made a move to back away, nor lower Elena’s hand.

She trusts her.

And that’s all Elena needs to finally, finally remove the barrier separating them for months. The cute girl she defended as a child is a beautiful woman now, looking back at her with gentle, dark eyes. The jagged scar running down the right side of her face does nothing to retract from that beauty.

“You don’t need that.” she breathes. “You never did.”

Donna glances to the side, a hint of color spreading over her pale cheeks. Elena chases her chin with her fingers, then slowly inches closer, making sure the dollmaker has ample time to decide if she wants this, too.

When their lips meet, color blooms behind her shut eyelids, within her chest. Donna’s mouth is as soft and sweet as her personality, Elena discovers. It is a short, chaste kiss but it is also a promise for many more to come.

It is the gratitude Elena will eternally hold for Donna, who found her at the ending of her life and nursed her back to this,

A new beginning.

[whereisten]

Sweet Pea

A Haechan fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: Who knew the undead could be so..lovely. You hated arrogant singer Haechan when he was alive, but could you love him now that he was..dead?

Pairing: Rockstar!Haechan (turns into a zombie) x Journalist!female reader

Genre: fluff, angst, horror, a little smut

Word Count: 9K

Warnings: death mention, car accident mention, blood and gore mention, wild animal death, character death (and resurrection?), cursing, some violence, cheating mention, smut: mention of penetration.

(A/n: THANK YOU GUYS FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT FOR THIS SERIES SO FAR!! We hope you enjoy everything we put out🥺❤️ i did not proofread this so sorry for any mistakes uh ha ha)

————

“Lisa..I really don’t want to interview Mr. I-Am-God’s-gift-To-This-World.” You sigh and hold your head down while sitting at your desk.

“Well, do you really want to switch and dive into the dark web for me?” Lisa turns to face you.

The two of you are journalists assigned to two very different topics for this week’s news articles.

You, being the one responsible for writing articles based on the music industry, were faced with the grueling task of interviewing pop rock’s most famous star, Haechan.

From what you had heard, Haechan was an arrogant bastard that gave all of his interviewers absolute hell. He gave sarcastic, abrupt answers that they could barely work from. But lucky for you, you were the one assigned to interview him as he promotes his second album in your town.

If there was anything worse than a crazy rockstar with a bad reputation, it was one that was incredibly good looking too. 

You had to admit, from the pictures you had seen, Haechan was dangerously handsome with brown wavy hair and skin kissed by the sun itself. Girls swooned over the way his delicate fingers strummed his guitar and the way his soothing, high pitched voice sang words about love to them.

You had to remind yourself that it was all an act, however, he didn’t give a damn about them or anyone else besides himself.

Could interviewing him be worse than risking your life by going too deep into the dark web? Maybe.

You looked up at the ceiling and bit your lip as you thought about it.

Lisa scoffed and shook her head. “Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking about it.”

“Listen…I-“

“You got this, what’s the worst he can do? Call security on you like that one magenta-haired rockstar guy did to his makeup artist?”

You groaned and placed your head back down onto your arms. But she was right, what was the worst that could happen?

———

[The Next Day]

You were let into Haechan’s dressing room by his manager.

“Well, good luck in there.” His manager raised his brows and quickly closed the door. It felt like you were being let into a Lion’s cage with no way out.

You took a deep breath. Your hair was tied back, your bun felt tighter than it did five minutes ago. You smoothed your hands over your pencil skirt and quickly fixed the collar of your button down shirt.

When you turned around, you saw the legend himself, typing on his iPhone. He was probably tweeting something out to his 10 million followers or coming up with some “sweet” caption for his Instagram groupies.

You cleared your throat, you didn’t want to interrupt him, but you really didn’t have much time. 

“Excuse me...Mr. Lee?”

He didn't respond, he kept typing.

“Mr. Lee?!” You said with more volume.

He rolled his eyes and looked up. You felt your breath get caught in your chest. He was magnificent. Not a flaw in sight. His eyes were of a perfect crescent shape and sparkles in the light of the vanity mirror. And his lips were a beautiful heart shape as they puckered before he spoke.

“Yes?” He answered with annoyance in his tone.

“My name is y/n, I’m here to ask a few questions.”

“Oh..I see, well, I’m not really into the “boorish teacher type” but I’m sure we can make it work with some role playing..” Haechan bites his bottom lip as he eyes you up and down.

“Um..I..”

He places his phone down and walks over to you.

“Tell me, teacher, do you have a ruler to spank me with?”

You stumble backwards, your back hitting the door.

“I-I from the Neo Chronicles actually, I am here to interview you.”

He stands over you in his leather jacket, placing his hand on the door beside your head as you cower. He seems to be misunderstanding your purpose for being there, but you did like being close to him. He smelled like fresh lemons and summer. His warmth was unlike anything else and with his face being so close to yours, you could see every beauty mark. You knew any other person would’ve been a puddle had they been this close to him, but you were growing to be quite annoyed.

He leans down to whisper in your ear. “Oh, so you want to be a journalist, okay then so you want to record me? I can make any sound you’d like me to make, all you have to do is touch the right spots.” He says seductively while staring down your shirt.

You shiver and shake off your goosebumps. “Oh my God, Haechan! I’m just here to ask a few questions okay?! I’m not some..escort!”

He steps back and furrows his brows. “What? Then what the hell are you here for?”

“I’m the journalist!” You show him your badge with your name on it as it hung from a lanyard around your neck.

He rolls his eyes and plops down into his chair. 

“Boring. Go on.”

He waves a hand and motions for you to continue.

You sigh and hurry through your notes so you can get the hell out of there and away from this weird man.

“Okay, well let’s start off with your name. Your real name is Lee Donghyuk, why did you choose ‘Haechan’ as your stage name?”

“Why did you choose to pair that shirt with those god awful shoes?” Haechan begins to type on his phone again.

This little brat. 

“Haechan, please take my questions seriously, your manager has only given me ten minutes with you.”

“And yet, I could be doing so much more with our time than answering your useless questions..” he stops typing and looks you up and down again. “I could be giving you an interview to remember, don’t you think?”

You chuckle. “No offense, but you’re not my type, and also, I’m faithful to my boyfriend.” The first part was a lie, but you hoped he would feel a blow to his ego.

He scoffs. “Honey..I’m everyone’s type..”

“Anyway...what inspired you the most when writing this new album of yours?”

“Hmmm...you.”

You slam your iPad down onto the counter. “We don’t even know each other.”

“I wasn’t finished...Youuuutube.” Haechan smirks as you get more and more visibly upset.

“Haechan...I respect your musicianship, but you’re making this interview really difficult. I can’t do my job if you keep acting like this.” You try to play nice, maybe that would work.

“Well you’re not very good at this job, I have another job for you, if you’d like to try that.”

You scoff and raise your eyebrows. “You know what…”

He places his phone down and crosses his arms. “What? Is it time for the part of the interview where you storm off back to your little cubicle and fabricate an entire interview with bullshit answers I never gave?”

You remain still, silently thinking of ways to kill this man without being caught. 

You grit your teeth.

“Write a nice and pleasing story about me, sweetheart. I’ll be anticipating it.” He gets up and walks towards the door but you step in front of him to stop him.

“Listen, you little twat—“

He furrows his brows and gives you a frightening glare. “No, you listen. I’m the rockstar here, I don’t owe you anything, I’m worth so much money, you wouldn’t be able to wrap your head around it if you tried. You don’t matter to me or to anyone else. There’s 5 million of you and only one of me, the only difference between you and them is that other journalists are smart enough to get on their knees and prove that they’re worth a celebrity’s time. Now, miss—what was your name again?”

“Y/n.” You say through tight lips.

“Move.”

You step to the side as he walks past you, bumping into your shoulder on purpose before leaving.

You tried your best not to cry as you headed home that evening. You knew he was an asshole but you didn’t think he’d be *that* bad. You were thankful that you’d never have to see him again, but you hated the fact that it was up to you to create some story about your interview and fake his answers so that he’d remain a positive figure in the spotlight.

It pained you to lie. Would you risk your job to just write about your actual experience and expose him for who he really was? No. You couldn’t do that, you needed this job. So you went home to your boyfriend.

But your boyfriend wasn’t there. He came home about two hours late. 

“What happened, Mark?” You sat up in the bed and watched him take his work uniform off. 

“Oh, nothing, y/n. The boss just kept me late to finish up some work.”

Mark was lying through his teeth and you knew it. You had your suspicions for a few months now, for he always came home late with that excuse. But you ignored your feelings for tonight, you just wanted him to cuddle you as you complained about your “interview” with one of the worst celebrities alive.

Mark held you close and comforted you as you told him your worries of being bad at your job. He listened carefully, but thought about how he had planned to tell you the truth. He wasn’t working at all. He was staying home with another woman during the day, doing an online job and spending time with her while he made money. She was pregnant and Mark knew that he would have to break the news to you, but he couldn’t, not now while you were at your lowest.

He rubs your back as you fall asleep.

————

[The Next Day]

“Breaking News. There’s been a massive accident on Highway 15. Several injuries and possible deaths are being reported. We are on standby as we gain more information from those at the scene.”

You look up from your computer in your cubicle and at the TV above you.

“Coming to you live from exit 45, it seems that there is a car on fire and an overturned tour bus. Upon closer inspection. It seems that it is the tour bus of none other than pop star, Haechan.”

Your eyes widen. Gasps fill the room as everyone watches the live footage from the scene.

“As of now, we are unsure if Haechan is in the bus..”

The reporter continues, but your focus shifts to the car on fire.

“Oh my God, y/n, what if—“ Lisa starts but you shush her with your finger in the air. 

Your brows furrow as you stand up and take a closer look.

A red Dodge Challenger...the car on fire is a red Dodge Challenger.

No. 

You take a closer look at the license plate and see ‘WTERMLN.’ That’s his personalized license plate. 

You pull your phone out and dial Mark. But there’s no answer. Lisa places her hand in yours and squeezes it. “Y/n..I’m sure he’s fine.”

You dial him over and over again but still no answer. You watch in horror as they begin to pull bodies out from the cars and the bus, they’re covered but your heart aches. 

“Breaking news. It has been confirmed that Haechan is of the casualties lost from this terrible accident.”

While the office cries out in a collective “no!,” You run out to the bathroom and start to cry by yourself.

“Mark..please answer.”

But he doesn’t, and a few hours later, you get a call from the hospital informing you that Mark was also killed in the accident.

———

[1 Week Later]

Days go by and you mourn Mark’s death. You can’t fathom that he’s really gone. Your apartment feels strange and empty. And his family didn’t make things any easier, they didn’t speak with you or tell you anything. They acted like you were some stranger.

“You’re not invited to the funeral, we are sorry.” You hear Mark’s mother say over the phone and before you can ask why, the line goes dead. Tears flow from your face like a waterfall. How could they do this to you? Did they really dislike you this much?

The world mourned Haechan’s death, everyone was shocked, vigils were held everywhere in the world. From Brazil to Japan, and Ghana to Turkey. He had a massive impact on the world as musicians from all over covered his songs and sang them on YouTube or in the streets for live entertainment.

Everywhere you went, you saw RIP posters or T shirts with his face on them. His album was released early and topped the charts in all countries. The world was grieving but finding comfort in his music.

But none of that mattered to you, you were truly alone, left to an empty apartment and crowded with memories of your moments with Mark.

They wouldn’t even let you into the hospital because Haechan was there too and there was so much ruckus with the media. The deaths of everyone else never made the news. It was all about Haechan. And that made you even more upset. They painted him out to be some perfect angel, if only they knew what a jerk he was.

———

[Two Weeks Later]

Your family and friends did the best they could to help you move on, but you just couldn’t. 

Everything reminded you of Mark, you couldn’t eat or sleep properly.

One day as you jogged through the park to clear your mind, you ran into an old woman by accident. 

You had been staring at the fountain that you and Mark used to sit at while eating treats from the food trucks nearby. You didn’t see her standing in the walkway throwing pieces of bread to ducks.

“Oh, I am SO sorry.” You reach out to help her up, but she only laughed. 

“That is okay, dear..” she gasped as she stared deeply into your eyes, her curly white hair fell into her face. She quickly moved it out of the way and continued to stare at you intently. Her brows furrowed.

“Dear...you are in pain, so much pain.”

You gasped as your mouth fell open. She read you like an open book and your eyes weren’t even red from crying.

“I-“ you stuttered.

“I can help you, I am a psychic, come to this address, tonight at 7. I will help you.” She quickly handed you a card. You look down at it in your hand then looked back up to respond but by the time you looked up, she had already started walking away. You stepped towards her.

“Ma’am?” 

Then suddenly a bicyclist ran right in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. You lost sight of her and turned to head home. You thought about how strange everything was, but even more strange was your desire to actually show up to her place.

You were welcomed in exactly at 7.

The door creaked as did the floor once you stepped inside.

“Dear..I am so happy you came.”

“What is this about? How can you help me?”

You looked around the strange cabin decorated with beads and distinct ornaments hanging from the ceiling.

“You’ve lost someone dear to you, haven’t you? Mark..that’s his name.” She said as she sat down at a table in the center of the room.

Your mouth fell open. “How do you..how do you know that?”

“I’m a psychic, I see things.” She said with a wide smile.

You raised your brows. “Yet, you couldn’t see me running towards you this morning.”

She laughed out. “I see MOST things. Take a seat.”

You sat down across from her.

“What if I told you that you could bring him back and be happy again?”

“No..no that’s not possible.” You shake your head.

“But it is, dear. And I’m gonna show you how.”

“This isn’t right, don’t get me wrong..I miss him..I miss him so much, but I can’t do this.”

You swallowed hard as you started to tear up.

“Why not? Death took him away too soon, right? He’s a young man, he deserves a second chance at life and you deserve to be loved.” The old lady held her hands out. “Here, take my hands.”

You thought about what she had said, could this be possible? Could you be reunited with Mark?

It sounded too good to be true. But you were desperate. You held her hands.

“My father passed away when I was just two years old. But I grew up with him right in front of my very own eyes. My mother was able to bring him back to life so he could be with her and raise me. It is possible, I’ve seen it work firsthand and I want to provide you with this opportunity so you will no longer feel the pain that my mother felt.”

“Why? Why do you want to help me? You don’t even know me.” 

“Because..I know that I have a way to make things right.” She reaches under the table and picks up what looks like a piece of granite stone. It has strange writing on it in a language you don’t understand.

“I can’t sit by and watch people suffer.”

“What is this?”

“Listen carefully, this is what you must do. Take this tablet to your dwelling, keep it on a table in the room that the two of you spent your most time in. Surround it with objects that Mark used most when he was alive, then light five candles and repeat these words five times.” 

She hands you a crumpled up piece of paper.

“You must say this sternly, do not falter or have weakness, or it will not work.”

“But what if—“ you still stare at the rock in confusion.

“You must do this at 8:23 tonight for it is when the full moon will be at its strongest. It will protect you from other beings that will try to enter our world.”

“Wait, other beings?..”

A harsh knock fills the room. You look behind her and see a door with all sorts of bolts and chains on it from the bottom to the top. She moved to the side to block your view of it.

“You must leave now!.” She jumps up from her chair and grabs your hand.

“Oh! Okay!” You walk hurriedly to the door as she practically pushes you towards it.

“May you be blessed, my child.”

“Thank-“ the door shuts in your face and you hear the lock turn.

You think about all that’s happened and wonder if you should really try to bring him back.

You decide to sit in the center of the living room by the coffee table, where you would play video games with Mark, and lay out items that reminded you of him. His favorite hat, his watermelon charm, and several pictures of the two of you together.

You turn all of the lights in the apartment off after you’ve lit five candles as instructed.

You sighed as you sat down. “Please bring him back to me, I love him.”

You place your hands over the tablet and read the words on the paper out loud, in your best imitation of Latin.

“Anima corpori, fuerit corpus totem resurgent.”

You repeat it four more times. The flames go out.

A gust of wind blows through your apartment, causing your blinds to shake and your hair to blow forward slightly.

Your eyes widen as you sit in the darkness.

You sit in silence and wait for the unknown. Would he just pop up? Would he knock at your door? Did you say “copori” or “corpori”?

You breathe heavily and sit for about 2 minutes in the darkness, trying not to shake as you feel the air become crisp and freezing. You jump up from the floor and turn your lights on.

Nothing’s changed. You search around the apartment and don’t find him, so you begin to feel a sense of defeat. With tears in your eyes you take a shower then fall asleep. How could you be so desperate? You felt like a fool, there was no way this crazy old lady knew what she was talking about, she just wanted to see you act like a fool.

He was never coming back, you had to accept that.

———

[The Next Day]

You’re woken up by glass breaking.

You hop out of your bed and grab your baseball bat that Mark gave you for protection.

Someone had broken into your apartment. You quietly around the corner with your back against the wall.

When you peak out, you see that your door was hanging from its hinges. Your mouth fell open. Whoever this was, was clearly big and hefty, powerful enough to break down your freaking door.

What damage could this baseball bat do?

You heard grumbling and groaning sounds as the person shuffled through your fridge.

You stepped closer with your bat in hand.

But when you got a closer look, you saw that the person was small, slim and...grey.

They smelled too, like raw meat from the butchers market or more specifically, rotting flesh. 

“Hey!” You called out and swung your bat up high.

They spun around quickly. Your eyes widened in shock.

It was leather jacket wearing...Haechan?

He grabbed the bat from you, snapping it in two before throwing it across the apartment.

He was incredibly strong, but you couldn’t focus as he then grabbed your ankles and pinned you onto the kitchen counter.

“FOOD!” He yelled.

His eyes were of a white color, like he was blind, his face was a mix of purple, green, blue and grey, and bone in his neck stuck out of his skin. He looked—dead.

His fingers were frigid cold as he gripped your skin.

You looked in horror at him, confused. Had he not been holding you, you probably would’ve lost all feeling in your legs at the sight of him and collapsed onto the floor. 

“Haechan?? How is this..how is this possible?”

“GIVE ME FOOD.” He yells again as green spit oozes out of his eyes and mouth, you nearly pass out from his smell.

“Let go!!” You yell.

“IM HUNGRY.” He dashes his arms across the counter in one sweep, causing all of your utensils to scatter across the floor. 

“Okay, okay! Um..I..I don’t have anything here..oh my God what the fuck is happening?”

Between the mess in your kitchen and Haechan sounding like the Hulk while looking like something from the Walking Dead, you didn’t know what to do. Was it possible that you accidentally brought Haechan back instead of Mark?

“BURGER.” Haechan grabs you by the collar and groans.

You nod quickly. “Okay! There’s a McDonald’s down the street, I’ll be right back, um.. stay here.”

Haechan shakes his head violently. “RAW..RAW.”

“Okay! You like it raw, I get it, you can let me go now!” You fling your freezer door open and shuffle through your collection of ice cream, hoping to find a frozen package of beef.

Haechan bangs on the counter and grumbles as you search.

“Found it!” You quickly hand him the package and watch as he tears the plastic cover off and devours the raw meat.

Your face crinkles in disgust. What have you done?

About thirty minutes pass and Haechan slowly starts to look and smell better. His eyes have cleared and returned to their brown color, the green and purplish veins no longer stick out as his skin returns to its normal, warm color. He looks more like a human than a monster. However, the bone in his neck still sticks out.

This all felt like a dream...or nightmare, rather.

“Where am I?” He opens his eyes slowly.

You hand him a napkin to clean up the blood and meat around his mouth.

“You’re at my apartment..Um..do you remember me?”

He squints as he stares at you. “I don’t remember much..”

You step closer. “What do you remember?”

“I remember the music, the crowds, my mother..my father.. but that’s it.”

Your brows raise. “You don’t remember who you are? You’re Haechan, you have the biggest ego in the land, you treat people like crap and you even told me I meant nothing.”

“What? I did that? But why?” Haechan looks so surprised, you can’t help but feel sorry for him. He rubs his neck, wincing at the pain he feels when he brushes his palm over the exposed bone. “Why does my neck hurt?”

You shake your head. “It wasn’t supposed to be you..” you whisper quietly.

“What?” 

“You’re only here...because I summoned you. There was a big accident a few weeks ago and..you died..my boyfriend died too. I was desperate..I tried to bring him back.” You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m an idiot. Because now I’ve brought you back instead.”

“I DIED?” Haechan sits forward.

“Yeah, but you were a dick, I just want my Mark back, not you.” You turn away from him, he looks up with sad eyes.

“I don’t remember who I was before, but I apologize for whatever I did.” His tone was so sweet, he was virtually unrecognizable from the man you interviewed. 

“That’s fine, Haechan, but you’re missing the point. You’re back now and I don’t know what to do with you. You can’t leave because then everyone will wonder how you’re alive again especially after they’ve spent so much time mourning you.” You rub your temple.

“Woahhh. I was a superstar?” 

“Yes, a superstar I hated.” 

“I don’t feel so good.” Haechan clutches his stomach.

You stand up straight. “What do you mean?”

“I feel..sick.” He starts to rock back and forth, you start to see the color drain from his hands and face. His tone becomes deeper, he starts to sound more and more like he did before he ate.

“Shit..it’s happening again.” 

Haechan groans and grabs onto the table as he transforms back into what seems to be his zombie form.

“Need..to EAT.”

“Oh my God, your appetite is crazy.” You rush to your freezer and find a frozen chicken. 

You turn around to toss it to him, but Haechan is already behind you, he growls and grabs the chicken from your hands.

With wide eyes, you watch him devour yet another piece of raw meat.

When he’s done he sits back in the chair and lets out a loud belch. You chuckle as his cute and handsome face returns to normal.

But you couldn’t ignore the fact that you truly had no idea what to do with him.

“You can kill me..since you hate me.” Haechan says softly while staring at the table.

“What is this..thing I’ve become..I don’t know why it’s happening, but when the hunger kicks in, I feel like eating everything to satisfy it. My mind goes blank, I can’t even form normal thoughts. I only see red. I’m sorry for doing this to you, I’m sorry for breaking in.”

Your heart breaks when you hear him apologize and look up at you somberly. “No..it’s not your fault. It’s mine, and I won’t kill you. I’ll find a way. I have to find her.” You pick your bag up and grab your car keys.

“Where are you going?” He stands up fast.

“Stay here, I have to find the lady that got me into this shit.”

———

You bang against her door. “Open the door, lady!”

After a few minutes, she reluctantly opens the door. “Yes?”

You push yourself into her house.

“Hey!” She yells to try to stop you.

“What the hell? You set me up!”

She scoffs. “I did no such thing! I gave you the tools you needed.”

“I have a zombie in my apartment! He goes berserk, like full frickin monster mode when he doesn’t eat raw meat for just 30 minutes! Do you know how crazy this is?!”

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry, you must not have done the spell correctly.”

“No! No, don’t blame this on me, I know you gave me that cursed tablet because you didn’t want it in your house anymore! I knew it was too good to be true but I trusted you! And I have no fucking clue why!”

You stepped closer to her as you yelled.

“You have to fix this!”

Her face fell. She had no idea that you would’ve suspected she was trying to use you to get rid of her curse, but you were right.

She sighs. “Dear...there is no way to get rid of this curse..it is final.”

“Final my ass! I should’ve brought him here so he can eat YOU! But you’d probably taste like shit because you’re full of it!” 

A loud groan and beastly sound comes out from behind that same door.

“Shhh!! Lower your voice!” She places her finger on your mouth.

Your brows furrow. “Is that...your dad?”

She looks to the floor. “It’s..my son.” 

The beast wails loudly.

“I thought...if I gave you the tablet, he would be released from this curse..but I was wrong. He doesn’t seem to be getting any better.”

“Are you serious? You knew about this..you knew what would happen, yet you let me do it too?” You scoffed.

She nods. “I am sorry, dear, but let me help you.”

She walks to her kitchen and brings back a large jar of lavender colored powder.

“If you mix 1 teaspoon of this powder with water and give it to him every day..he will be “normal” for 24 hours.”

“And what happens when it runs out? How do I stop him from eating everyone and everything in sight?” You snap back.

“I will be here, come back to me and I’ll give you more but this should last you for at least a year.”

“Really? So you’re telling me that there’s 365 teaspoons worth in this jar? Also, why don’t you use it on your son?”

She closes her eyes. “I’ve been doing this for twenty years, I’ve experimented with him, trying to find a permanent solution, however, when I cast a spell on him, it gave his body and mind a tolerance to this potion, meaning that it no longer has an effect on him.”

“Where do you get this from?”

She chuckles and opens her eyes as she looks out of a window. “From the fairies...they do not wish to be seen, but if you offer them something, they will leave a gift.”

You take the jar from her. “I am going to try this..if it doesn’t work, I’ll be back and I’ll be sure to bring him.”

“I hope that you and your lover can live peacefully in the end, dear.”

“Oh, that’s the thing, he’s not my lover.” you roll your eyes and slam her door shut.

———

[2 Months Later]

Living with zombie Haechan was..interesting. The potion worked and Haechan didn’t have those crazed hunger pings that turned him into a monster straight out of an 80s film. 

You were thankful that he wasn’t like who he was before the accident, an ignorant asshole. He was incredibly sweet and helpful. He didn’t speak much because of his decaying brain, but he kept you company and helped to clean.

You bought him clothes and eventually replaced them with Mark’s, for you couldn’t bear to see his things anymore.

You’d leave for work and come home to see him fixing things like the cabinet doors he broke.

“I don’t remember much, but I do remember my father..he never liked to watch me sing at school..he’d rather I have a hammer in my hand. He taught me how to fix most things when I was just 7 years old. But my mother..she supported everything I did..I miss her.”

Haechan said quietly as you both ate dinner. You ate spaghetti and meatballs, he ate the same thing but the uncooked version of course.

You felt a slight pain in your heart as you thought about how this must’ve been for him. Surely, he would want to console his mother and tell her that he’s okay, but he couldn’t.

You helped him dye his hair a dark red color and gave him a new haircut. His luscious licks were now gone, but if he wanted to go outside, he’d have to look different than he did before.

So you bought him round glasses and a scarf to wear to conceal his broken neck bone whenever you went to the supermarket together.

You still missed Mark, but you had been so busy with caring for Haechan that you sometimes forget the loss and pain.

You cleared your throat and thought of something quickly to distract Haechan from thinking about his mother.

“What is something that you would like to do? For example, I’m sure you couldn't go ice skating when you were famous right?”

Haechan chews and looks up to his right as he tries to remember. “I don’t think I’ve ever done that.”

“Would you like to?” You say with hopeful eyes.

Haechan chuckles and smiles at you, making your heart run wild. What was this feeling? Why did he make your chest weak?

Was it this new undercut that he had? Or perhaps the dazzling smile paired with beautiful eyes and a dainty nose?

“When I’m here alone, I watch TV and I saw an advertisement for..the fair?” He asks innocently.

“Oh! You want to go to the fair?” Your eyes widen.

“Yes.” He nods.

———

[The Next Day]

Haechan tightens his scarf around his neck tightly before the two of you get on the next ride.

“I like this one a lot, we used to ride it over and over, me and M-“ you stop before saying his name.

“Mark?” Haechan sees your hesitancy. He wishes you wouldn’t be in pain over his death anymore. He didn’t like seeing you like this, he wanted you to be happy, especially when you were around him, for your smile felt like a garden of bright flowers had bloomed simultaneously.

“Yeah..” you hold your head down.

The man at the ride lets the two of you on. It’s the pirate ship that swings back and forth, rotating you guys upside down as you scream your heads off.

Haechan holds onto you for dear life as you are flipped over in the air and held there for nearly 5 seconds.

You giggle while he screams and closes his eyes tightly.

When the ride is finally over, you jump up from your seat and take his hand in yours. He freezes and stares at your hand. It was the first time you had touched him. He felt sparks fly from your beautiful fingers to decorate his skin.

“Come on!” You say excitedly while beaming.

He smiles like he’s just seen gold and jumps up from his seat as well.

The two of you continue on through the fair, going on the worst rides just so you can laugh at how Haechan suffers through them.

After about an hour and a half, you decide to get some to eat.

Haechan looks up at the menu from a food truck. 

“Uhhh..do you have anything...uncooked?”

“Uncooked? Like..raw?” The chef looks at him with concern.

“Yeah. Like just a turkey leg..without the smoke?”

You run up to him after leaving the restroom. You can see from the puzzled look on the man’s face that the conversation doesn’t seem to be going well.

“It’s for our dog!” You quickly exclaim while wrapping your arm around Haechan’s. He once again felt soft from your touch. He loved being close to you, seeing you smile, feeling your warmth and love. The two of you had grown close as time went by, and even though he slept on your couch, he’d never felt more at home.

The man nods and hands Haechan a raw turkey leg. You get a hot dog and lead Haechan to a corner of the park where he can eat his food without being watched.

The two of you ate quickly as you hid, the sun was starting to set and you were growing tired.

“No one seems to recognize you!” You take a bite of your hot dog.

Haechan nods.

“It’s the haircut..thank you, by the way.”

You nod. “You’re welcome, sunny.”

Haechan stops chewing, his eyes widen. Did you just come up with a cute nickname for him?

A piece of meat dangles from his mouth.

You giggle as he stares. “What? Don’t choke now.”

He quickly chews and swallows. “Why ‘sunny?’’

You shrug your shoulders. “Hmmm i don’t know,..you’re bright..like the sun!”

Haechan blushes. “You think I’m bright?”

“When you’re not full monster mode, yeah..”

“What can I call you then...hmmm...sweet pea!”

You chuckle and throw your head back. Haechan’s smile widens.

“Sweet pea?”

“Yes! Because you’re sweet and small like a pea,”

Haechan teases and steps closer to you.

“I am NOT small.” You wave a finger.

“You’re shorter than me so…”

You laugh and turn away from his strong gaze. “well, I guess you have …”

You stop in your tracks when you recognize the brown haired man stepping out of the restrooms.

No, it couldn’t be.

You walk up to him and tap his shoulder.

“Mark?”

Haechan follows behind you. 

Mark turns to you slowly, gulping as he feels your touch.

“Y/n.. I can explain.”

You step back and bump into Haechan while covering your face with shaking hands.

“What’s wrong?” Haechan asks.

Mark steps forward.

“I-I..wait, it worked after all?” You tear up.

“What—are you talking about?” Mark’s brows furrow.

“You died and I brought you back to life..but..”

Mark shakes his head, thinking that you aren’t handling his “death” well.

“Y/n..no..I didn’t die..I faked my death, I’m sorry..I-I had to.”

“What?!” Your hands fall from your face.

“Baby, who’s this?” A pregnant woman walks up to Mark while holding her back and wincing in pain.

“This is..y/n.”

She holds her hand out for you to shake, but you glare at Mark.

“Baby? Mark, what...is this..are you messing with me right now? Am I on camera? Haha very funny, jokes over.” You hold your hands out and look around you for the cameras, for none of this made sense.

Mark sighs. “Y/n..I was going to tell you, but I couldn’t. I cheated on you with her and got her pregnant. I got into the accident but left the vehicle as fast as I could and escaped the fire. Im fine but..I told everyone to tell you that I died.”

You chuckled and bent over.

“I’m serious..I needed to start over..without you.” He continued.

You stand up straight with tears flowing down your cheeks. “Was I that bad, Mark? Was I that worthless?” Your voice cracked.

“Did I mean nothing to you?” 

Mark shook his head. “No..you were everything to me. Which is why I did what I did like a coward, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Do you have any fucking idea how much I cried over you? What I DID for you?” Your voice starts to raise.

Mark’s mouth falls open into silence, for there is truly no excuse for his shitty actions.

“You’re a lying bastard and I wish you nothing but the pain I felt when I thought you were dead.” Upset wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe your feeling right now.

Haechan also grows upset when he sees how hurt you are.

“You know what? I’m really hungry right now.” Haechan stepped forward, a low growl escaping him. You stepped in front of him and held his hand. 

“No..”

“You look familiar…” the woman beside Mark speaks as she looks at Haechan.

“And you look like the whore my boyfriend, wait, EX boyfriend knocked up! Come on, let’s get out of here.” You took Haechan’s hand and led him out of the park.

You drove in silence, a million thoughts running through your head. Once again, you felt like a fool.

Later that night, you crawled into bed and sobbed quietly, but Haechan heard you.

He opened your door slowly. 

“Sweet pea?” He says softly in the darkness.

You can’t help but laugh when you hear the nickname.

Haechan smiles when he hears it.

“Yes, sunny.”

“Do you need a hug?”

You roll over onto your back and swipe at your eyes. “Yes, please.”

Haechan climbs into your bed and pulls you into his arms tightly. You place your hands over his as he rests his chin on top of your head, and the two of you fall asleep soon after.

The next day, you wake up to Haechan rustling through your pantry.

He wails and groans loudly. You jump out of bed.

“Shit. I’m late.” 

You run out to the kitchen, Haechan tosses things out of the fridge while green and purple veins bulge from his grey skin. His hair is messy and great and he sounds demonic as he screams. You dodge his thrashing arms and quickly mix the potion for him.

You hold his head and keep him still with both hands.

“Haechan! Drink! Now!” You look into his white eyes.

You grab the glass and pour the liquid into his mouth. 

24 hours was up from about 30 minutes before you woke up. You had to be on time or Haechan would quickly change into zombie mode and could potentially leave the apartment to find someone to eat. This was the downside to having him around. But it was your curse and you had to deal with it.

You always thought it fascinating how he never tried to eat you.

Haechan calms down and sits onto the floor while panting.

He holds your hand and looks up at you with teary eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry ..I’ll clean this up, I promise.”

“It’s okay, Haechan.” You sigh and head back to bed.

———

[Three Months Later]

You and Haechan live together happily, you slowly get closer, sleeping together in bed on most nights and doing coupling things like going to the movies or taking dancing lessons. 

He helped you get over Mark, he made you feel so loved. 

He couldn’t talk much so he was unable to get a regular job. But one day, the two of you walked by a floral shop. Haechan stopped walking and stared at the lilies. They were beautiful.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

You smiled as you touched the flowers.

“Yeah..Like you.”

You felt your face become warm as he stared into your eyes.

“I like flowers, which explains why I like you.”

Haechan says smoothly.

“You like me?” You say giddily and tug his hand.

Haechan rolls his eyes. “You’re cute.”

“What if you worked at a place like this since you like flowers?”

He nods “I’d love that.”

And so, you spoke to the owner and helped him get a job there. Of course, he’d have to wear his scarf to conceal his “scar,” but other than that, he would have no issue with preparing bouquets and cleaning up.

He’d bring home flowers for you all the time, making you smile and forget all about the pain you felt months ago.

——

“Sunny!” You cry out as Haechan flips you over his shoulder and takes you to the bathroom.

“Ha! I love hearing you call my name, baby.”

He helps you into the shower then steps in with you.

“Ah! I don’t have much time..”

“I know, that’s why I’m going to help you shower..”

He rubs you down with body wash, slowly caressing your body as you fall weak in his hands.

His touch was soothing, gentle..

“Are you sure you don’t want to call out sick today?”

He whispers into your ear as his hands trail down your abdomen.

You turn to him and kiss him for the first time. It felt like you were skydiving, falling through the blue sky without any indication of stopping, you felt a rush so indescribable your mind went blank.

Haechan can only think of how beautiful you are, he doesn’t want this moment to ever end. You’re refreshing and his chest feels like a hundred butterflies are roaming around freely in it.

He kisses you back slowly tracing his tongue over your lips. You inhale each other’s breath, closing your eyes and adoring the warmth of each other’s skin.

When you have finished showering together, Haechan carries you to the room and lays you down onto the bed. He crawls over you and lays his lips back onto yours while gently pressing his hands onto your sides.

You moan and hold yourself up on your elbows. 

You hold his face in between your hands while you kiss for what feels like hours. He gives your thighs a light squeeze.

You widen your legs and fall back into the bed.

“I don’t have much time, go ahead.” You say breathily into his ear.

He bites his bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “Absolutely.”

He pushes into you slowly, merging your bodies in the bright room and on the plush bed for the first time.

You gripped his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your fingers trailed up to his soft hair as he kissed your neck.

It felt magical, unreal, you felt like you had a small piece of heaven during your moment together.

Haechan whispers “I love you.” as the two of you lay in bed after.

“Is that code for “call in sick so we can do it again”?” You tease him before kissing his nose.

——

[6 Months Later]

You were running out of time to find more powder for your solution. You tried not to be worried in front of Haechan but he knew you were.

You were both worried about the future of your relationship.

You headed to the old lady’s cabin, hoping to get more.

But when you reached the exact spot, you were frightened to see an empty area littered with black dust.

“No..this can’t be..what the-?”

“Can I help you, ma’am?” A man on a bicycle passing by asked you.

“Yes, where is the cabin that was here?”

“You’re looking at it, honey. There was a fire about three months ago. The sweet old lady that lived in it passed away after inhaling too much smoke..”

Your mouth fell open as you searched the area. This couldn’t be real. How would you get the solution now?

———

[A Few Days Later]

You searched the Internet long and hard for a solution but found nothing. You were playing a dangerous game by shortening the amount you gave him, in hopes that it would last longer and give you more time.

But instead of the effects lasting for 24 hours, they’d only last for 18 before he started to grumble while the two of you laid in bed together. 

You’d quickly grab some meat from the closest supermarket and feed it to him, but that also meant that you couldn’t sleep at night.

“Hey..you’ve been at it all day. What are you looking for?” Lisa asks you one day at work.

The truth was, you couldn’t tell anyone about your predicament.

“I..it’s nothing, it’s just some old recipe I’m looking for.”

“Oh really? What’s it called?”

“I’m not sure, my mom used to make it, but it involves some pretty scarce materials.”

“Ohhhh..sounds interesting, well, what I can tell you is that when I did research on the dark web, I found a website that included weird stuff like 16th century recipes for potions and shit, it was crazy. They’d be like “you must drink four quarts of animal blood for this to work.” Wild.” Lisa shook her head and went back to her desk.

What if you needed to delve deeper into the internet, what if you searched for the potion on the dark web? 

No, you couldn’t, you’d just be asking for trouble.

Later that day when you went to pick Haechan up from your work, you saw that the shop had been destroyed, glass and flowers were scattered all over. The door had been ripped off and thrown across the floor.

You stepped out of the car but was stopped by the owner.

“Get out of here! You’re the reason for this! What the hell is wrong with your boyfriend? Look at what he did to her!” The owner pointed to another worker at the shop.

She was whimpering and holding out her arm. When you looked closely, you saw that she had been bitten. A chunk of her arm was missing. Your eyes widened as you backed away.

The potion..it wore off.

“Oh no..” barely left your lips.

“He was eating her like a maniac! I came just in time to run him out!”

The owner yelled as you jumped back into your car.

You drove around the area looking for him. You're on the brink of a full meltdown. What if he had attacked someone else? What if the police tried to get him and failed? How many more people could he hurt? 

You had to find him...now. 

You parked the car and ran around a park nearby. It was relatively quiet until you heard bones cracking. You snapped your head in the direction of the sound and rushed towards it.

You heard the high pitched cry of an animal. You peered through the bushes and saw a terrifying scene.

Haechan guzzles down the meat of a deer. He grumbles and makes demonic sounds as the deer’s eyes close slowly.

“Haechan..” you croak out quietly.

His head snaps up towards you while he still devours the intestines of the poor animal.

“Haechan..stop.. please..” you start to tear up. Your lover is unrecognizable in front of you, grey and purple skin and black fingernails. His mouth and chin is covered in blood and guts and his teeth are nearly fully decayed and yellow. His hair falls from his scalp like leaves fall from a tree.

He stands up slowly as he finally comes to realize who you are. He steps towards you but you don’t back away, you only stand there and cry.

“I’m sorry..I’m sorry I couldn’t help you in time.” 

You sob.

He breathes heavily and looks into your eyes, he’s confused because he doesn’t feel the need to feed on you, he feels like...crying, and the monster doesn’t know why.

You take him to your car and drive him home while he eats what’s left of the deer. The last thing you wanted was a dead deer in your car, but it was the only thing that kept him from thrashing around and being dangerous towards you. Once there, you use chains to tie him to a chair. You pour out the final teaspoon of powder and mix the drink.

He yells and groans as you give it to him to drink. You had never seen him this bad before. He has holes in his grey skin and his veins are now black. He was decaying faster than ever before.

His eyes were completely white and he spat out black blood as he yelled and strained against the chains.

“Haechan..please..baby it’s me, sweet pea..” you give a small smile.

But he doesn’t stop yelling.

You try to force the liquid down his throat but he coughs it up and spits it out.

“Haechan! No!!” You watch as the last bit of potion splatters onto the floor

You fall onto the floor and sob into your hands. What could you do now?

You remembered a conversation that you two had a few months ago.

“Should I threaten your safety or the safety of anyone else..you must kill me..” Haechan says while squeezing your hand and looking up at the stars.

You laid on the roof of your apartment building and watched the stars together.

“What are you saying..you know I can’t kill you.” You chuckle.

“Y/n...I’m serious...I am a monster, and if I lose control..” he shakes his head. “I can’t bear to think that I could hurt you. So you have to stab me in the head, that’s the only way.”

“You’re being ridiculous. I’d never do that.”

He turns to you and holds your chin in his hand while looking deep into your eyes. “Sweet pea..I love you, but please take care of yourself first.”

You raised your head as you sat at his feet now, the man in front of you being completely different from the man beside you on the roof long ago on that night.

“I love you too, sunny.” You cried harder and stood up. There was no going back, you couldn’t find any solutions and he was only getting worse. You loved him but he was right.

He lets out a loud groan as you walk past him and to the kitchen.

You take out a sharp knife and close your eyes before driving it into his skull.

The wailing stops.

You fall to the floor again and cry. 

———

[The Next Day]

You wake up and see Haechan’s lifeless body slumped over.

You miss him so much, your feeling of desperation begins to creep in again. And so, you jump onto your laptop and get to the dark web.

You scroll through many websites, some leading to porn websites, some leading to games with jump scares, and some just leading to flat out dead ends.

But as time goes on, you get closer and closer to what you need, finding websites about satanic rituals and sacrifices.

You eventually find a resurrection spell.

With nothing to lose, you take the knife out of his head and lay him down on the floor. You set the stage and prepared for another ritual, you should’ve learned from what happened the first time, but you loved him dearly, you needed him.

“I call upon the ancient power to help me in the darkest hour… with a drop of my blood…” you use a small knife to cut into the center of your hand. You wince from the pain and squeeze your hand to let drops fall onto his forehead.

“I will heal this man with all my love..” you say a few more words in Latin and close your eyes.

When you are done, it’s silent in your apartment, but your eyes are still closed.

Then you hear it.

You hear a breath leave his lips.

He sits up straight suddenly and opens his eyes. You gasp and watch as his skin heals and his eyes turn to brown. His teeth are back to being bright and white and his hair is luscious.

He smiles when he sees you. “Sweet pea..”

You grin with tears in your eyes.

“Sunny!” You got to hug him, but his body disappears and you fall to the floor.

Your smile fades, you hold yourself up from the floor and look behind you. Haechan sits there with a look of confusion.

“Y/n..”  he holds his hand up.

You sit back up in front of him and place your hand on his, but your fingers fall through thin air, failing to grasp his hand.

You didn’t read the fine print..the terms and conditions. This spell only worked for you to be able to see someone that has died, not for you to touch them.

“Haechan..I’m so sorry.” You begin to cry but he touched your cheek, it comes off as a light gust of wind.

“Don’t cry, sweet pea..I’m here..with you.”

And he stayed with you as a ghost for the rest of your life. He comforted you even though you couldn’t feel each other. You still explored the world together, watched movies and slept together. You missed his warmth and he missed yours, but seeing your beautiful face was enough for him. Even as you aged while he stayed the same, he thought you were the prettiest woman to ever grace the Earth.

And when you too had passed, you joined him as a ghost, walking hand in hand as you roamed the world.

come back tomorrow for the next spooky story...

[demi-shoggoth]

2021 Reading Log pt 24

116. The Paleoart of Julius Csotonyi by Julius Csotonyi and Steve White. Now this has a suitable amount of text for a scientific art book. There is a lengthy interview with the artist and numerous testimonials from scientists that he’s worked with, describing their specimens and research. Most of the art is from the Paleozoic and Mesozoic—a Cenozoic chapter is maybe 15 pages long. Csotonyi works in digital, traditional and photocomposite mediums, the latter of which are somewhat controversial (with him distorting modern animals into paleo shapes). I tend to like his more traditional digital drawings best. My favorite is the gallery of ceratopsian heads, showing off all of the minor variations in horn and crest shapes.

117. Watch Your Tongue by Mark Abley. This is a collection of idioms, what they actually mean and where they came from. Part of the fun comes from the author’s being Canadian, so he juggles American, British and Canadian English and tries to explain its pieces and parts to people familiar with only one. It’s also openly political. The book is from 2018, and Abley clearly hates both Trump and Boris Johnson.

118. The Amoeba in the Room by Nicholas P. Money. This book is an overview of microbiology aimed at a general audience. It does an excellent job of surveying the diversity of single celled eukaryotes (what were traditionally called “protists”) in the first chapter, and then talks about the roles that they, bacteria and viruses play in maintaining ecosystems throughout the world. The title refers to how long the impact of unicellular life has been ignored—like the elephant in the room? Anyway, this book is good when it’s stressing the wonder and diversity of single celled organisms, but it is less good when it takes its time dissing animals and plants. Especially animals—the author seems to have a chip on his shoulder about zoology in general and taxonomic efforts like the Tree of Life project in particular.

119. The Unnatural Order of the Three Eyed Skull’s Field Guide, Vol. 2 by Andrew P. Barr. The second of three (so far?) volumes collecting @andrewbarrillustrator ‘s monster designs. This book reaches beyond the confines of Weird Ontario to show up ghouls and grotesques from around the United States and Canada. Some folkloric monsters appear in these pages as well as originals—we get a Loveland Frog, Flatwoods Monster, even Indrid Cold. There are some issues with copy editing, however. Lots of uses of the wrong “it’s”, and in the aforementioned Indrid Cold entry, the word “dame” instead of “name”, that sort of thing. The art is still top notch.

120. Mr. Humble and Dr. Butcher by Brandy Schillace. This is a biography of Robert White, a neurosurgeon who developed methods to cool the brain to reduce brain damage during surgery. Oh, and he also transplanted the heads of monkeys onto the bodies of other monkeys, and spent his entire career wanting a chance to do the same for humans. The book stresses White’s religious nature, his motivation for proving the existence of the soul in the brain, and his relationship with the Catholic Church. In the process, it also touches on the history of transplant surgery, the definition of death from a medical and legal standpoint, the animal rights movement and the birth of PETA, and the medical rivalries of the Cold War, among many others. If you’re interested in medical ethics or just weird science, you owe it to yourself to read this book.

[naturepointstheway]

Two Outer Wilds Fic Authors recommendations!

There are some absolutely stellar quality fanfictions in the Outer Wilds fandom on Archive of Our Own and one or two where it’s practically criminal how few kudoses/bookmarks they have (what is coming to this world smh). I would even say I have favourite authors among them as well, and there are fics there that Kelsey Beaucham (the writer for OW) would be proud of (if I were in their shoes!) Basically, if I had to choose someone to write the writing for the next OW thing (be it DLC or otherwise), these are the amazing human beings I’d pick. And yes, I am one of those who will gush in a manner that Cassava would find “gelatinous”. I don’t care. Because I am full of love for their writing.

Author Rec: BlackBlood1872

Normally I hesitate to read fics with second person points of views, BUT they do their fics with absolute finesse and flawlessness that it doesn’t matter. In a way it fits, because when one plays Outer Wilds, they are the character. What you experience in emotions is perfectly valid to project upon the Hatchling. It’s your experience and your game and no one else’s. All three of their fics on AO3′s OW section are absolutely worth it, especially,, ESPECIALLY “The Day Riebeck Forgot” (though not in 2nd pov) which warmed and broke (and then warmed and broke at least three times over) my heart from start to finish. Let’s say Riebeck finally gets to meet a Certain Friend on a Certain Moon and it’s as amazing, exhilarating, beautiful, and heart-breaking as you’d expect. If I were stranded on, like, Mars or something, and I could only have one fic with me from each of my fave fandoms, THIS would be my pick for OW. Honestly, for me, it’s hard to top “The Day Riebeck Forgot” and...I can only gush about it because I have no more words for how amazing it is. It’s a 12/10 rating for me. 

“Neither Benign nor Hostile” - based on a line from Gabbro about dying a few loops ago - is a small fic, one that can be read in the space of time it takes to roast a marshmallow over the campfire, but it smacks you in the feels (much harder than your average marshmallow) and leaves you reeling (at least it did for me.) The mark of a truly gifted and skilled writer is one who can effortlessly break a reader’s heart and tell a whole story in under 1000 words. It is a very maturely written fic, touching upon grief, loneliness, the deep need for the company of the only one other Traveler who knows about the loop, and it really changed my view on the game as well. 

“like the sun and moon, they end only to begin again” - in a similar vein to the previous fic, this explores the many ways you can die in the game, and how it affects the Hatchling and their relationships with life, death, other characters, and the universe. The dialogue is absolutely top notch as in their other fics, and flows with natural ease and symphony. Honestly, if Kelsey Beaucham asked me to pick someone to take over the writing for a DLC or whatever of OW, I’d pick this author, no hesitation. There are no waffles or fluff in their dialogue nor narration, whittled to the finest instrument of storytelling it can be. You get the sense of the Hatchling having had to grow up so fast and consider the preciousness and fragility of life while aware of being trapped in a time loop, especially considering it’s literally their first day of launch again and again, experiencing death so many times in various agonising ways that it has “become routine”. 

Author Rec: PartlyCloudySkies

‘monument’ - This exquisitely narrated piece with its flawless, natural, mature dialogue follows a conversation among the Nomai in the statue workshop, touching on science and art, and how they blend together. To Phlox, the creation of the statues wasn’t just a scientific endeavour, it was also an artistic, creative project that drew on a passion for the art. Daz provides an alluring contrast in their views as an engineer, where to them, it was all science and little to do with artistic endeavour, generating a deep conversation between the two characters. 

“You don’t suspend art, Daz. It happens.” 

The second chapter is enriched in the same finely-tuned narration and dialogue between Hornfels and Esker, touching on nostalgia for the old days, especially for when they used to all sit around the campfire and tell stories and play music. I also loved their discussion on past astronauts of the space programme, and their different personalities and approaches and views on space and spaceflight (yes, Slate, I’m looking at you). I love that Feldspar was essentially the Hermione of the group during Hornfels’ lectures, waking everyone up after they fell asleep. This is well worth a re-read (and another re-re-re-read...) 

‘orbits’ - Longfic oneshots, this one clocking just shy of 10K words, are my favourite things in fandoms and I always love getting stuck in one (and also writing them, depending on the fandom (read: Life is Strange), and when one is as well written as this, it’s perfect. This follows both Hatchling and Solanum on not just their inaugural journeys to space and the Quantum Moon, respectively, but also their character development through time. We see Solanum go from a little child scared of the Eye to one who is absolutely passionate about their coming of age pilgrimage. Each are imbued with individual personalities and views on the world and people around them, as well as insatiable desire for knowledge and exploration.  

[nacrelyses]

okay brain if i make the post will you shut up

so love, me normally can be interpreted in a romantic sense, and it would make sense for it to be interpreted in a romantic sense of someone who desperately wishes they weren’t so different from the norm, so “bad”, so “abnormal”; that they’re so tired of being different and being treated different that they just want to be loved like they’re normal, loved like a nobody

but that’s not what i’m making this post about god damnit keep on track-

[under a read more because it’s very heavy. tw external and internal queerphobia, existential despair, also this is so long oh god 2k words]

 i could make a joke about how “cross my i’s, dot my t’s” is a joke about going on testosterone but uh i’m just going to talk about first stanza 

“I was delivered holding scissors, I live deliberately, I’m a quitter And a winner anyway, cause I never agreed to participate in this game”

this’ll come up later in this long ass post but the child is delivered holding the scissors to cut their own umbilical cord. when a child is born and they are a queer individual, it is up to them to cut the ties that hurt them the most - even the most close and familial ones. in the way that an umbilical cord is cut because the baby no longer needs the mother’s nutrients, the child is born with the inevitable fate of having to cut off those whose approval and love they can no longer thrive off of, or can no longer receive. or, it could be a metaphor for the scissors of fate, where the child is born with their fate in their own hands and they, being an outlier in queerphobic society, must make do with what they’ve got.

“i live deliberately, i’m a quitter” the child lives deliberately in their quest for self discovery and their need to understand and accept their queerness but at the same time they are a quitter in all the things that society considers normal but they cannot utilize to function: a white collar job when the child is an artist, a nuclear family when the child just doesn’t want one, keeping in contact with your parents when the parents do not accept their child.

“And a winner anyway, cause I never agreed to participate in this game” this comes up later in the post as well but yeah the child never agreed to participate in this game of life. they didn’t ask to be a player, but by default of their unwillingness and their lack of consent, they are made a winner because they are the only player at the table of their own life. they are made an unwilling winner for something they never had the consciousness to consent to experience. they can be called “strong” later in life for overcoming queerphobia, lauded as a “winner” over their oppression, but it rings hollow because to be a real winner, you have to have agreed to be playing in the first place. 

and then the chorus, this is pretty obvious. like the 

“And I'd rather be normal. Yes, so normal I suggest that we keep this informal Cause a normal human being wouldn't need To pretend to be normal to be normal Well I guess that's the least that I owe ya To be normal in a way I couldn’t be C’mon, c’mon, and love me normally”

because you know, that could kinda be interpreted as a queer child talking to their queerphobic parents. it doesn’t fucking matter if their parents are proud of them for their grades or their achievements now because no matter what, they’re proud of the persona of the child they’ve constructed for themselves. they’re proud of a fraud. the child knows they’ll never truly be loved the way they are, that their parents will only love who they want the child to be and they’ll only love the image they have of their child. think of it like internalized queerphobia, homophobia, transphobia, the idea that similar to i/me/myself, it would be easier if i were a girl [or cisgender, for a general application] and it would be easier if i were normal. the child would rather be normal in the way their parents see normal and they feel that they owe their parents, for all their parents have done to provide for them and pay for their bills and everything, the bare minimum of pretending to be normal so that they don’t break their parents’ hearts. and it’s really for the sake of everyone in the family because if they’re outed, the parents will argue, the parents will be sad, their siblings will be upset by the arguing and the mourning, they feel as though they owe their family this bare minimum of pretending -  both for their own safety, and for the prosperity of their family. moving on.

“If I could live in third person, well I don’t think life would be much worse than it is In the current tense, presently, this sentence ending in question marks or dot dot dot…”

the child feels like if they were an outsider witnessing their own life in a third person perspective, it still wouldn’t change a lot. or it wouldn’t be much worse, it might actually be better, in a sense, because they’re fully disassociated from the identity that alienates them so from their parents and their parents’ approval. but they’re living in first person, so this sentence (their life, basically, drawing upon how a suicide prevention thing a while back was using a semicolon as a symbol of your life being an author’s sentence) ends in two ways. a question mark, showing how their existence as someone outside the “norm” of a queerphobic society is rife with constant questioning and identity gaslighting because of how “abnormal” it is to deviate from the norm that you are left without many resources to figure yourself out. you die at the end of the day perhaps not even knowing who you truly are because society has not yet normalized terms that could better articulate your identity, and because you can never really know yourself. or, your sentence ends in a dot dot dot. forever unfinished. you leave with so many loose ends - maybe you move out and cut off contact with your family forever, and live perhaps happier but never knowing if they change their mind (oh god now i’m thinking about change your mind from steven universe and how steven’s entire story is a metaphor for the trans experience). maybe you decide to continue pretending and you cut off the option of really getting to know yourself a little bit better, and you die never knowing who you could have been. so living in full disassociation would at the very least not be much worse than how the first person tense currently is.

“I drank myself to death to be the afterlife of the party When the afterparty came, I was rolling in my grave”

no i am not an alcoholic, thank you very much, i am a responsible person. but the substance abuse reference can be applied to any self destructive habit that arises out of a need to cope - in this case, the child’s need to cope with their fractured identity. maybe they turn towards being hyperfeminine or hypermasculine in an attempt to feel connected with their assigned gender, which branches out into so many different destructive habits (aforementioned drinking, drugs, eating disorders, etc). they do so to become the “afterlife” of the party - if you think about a “party” as a moment in time, it can be the moment you are in in your life. the child turns towards these destructive habits to try to achieve the unachievable. to bring the afterlife into life, to bring their parents’ false image of the child into fruition when that is never impossible and that in itself becomes destructive. but they do this in the current moment of their life, in the current party, so when the afterparty comes, they’re already dead. when the afterparty comes, they roll in their grave because it’s a hollow call for what they could have been: a more genuine person to themselves, a happier individual free of parents’ queerphobia. 

“I want you to love the way they so seamlessly, like a dream for me, so beautifully, oh so dutifully jam that square peg in the round hole in their hearts”

the bridge monologue is very very romantic-coded and i don’t think i can pull much meaning from the first bit but here, have the “jam the square peg in the round hold in their hearts”. the child has learned to “seamlessly”, like a second instinct, to jam the square peg of their parents’ false image into the round hole in their hearts, to somehow cram something into a space that was never meant to fit and should not be fitted at all. this quote speaks as though it’s the child talking to their parents, telling them, “i want you to love me, but you are only loving me as i am now, when i am literally destroying myself to be who you’re capable of loving”

“I want you to tell 'em that you love the way that they don't stick out like sore middle fingers That they crawl their way up the side of the bell curve, stick their flag in the peak, and slide their way back down I want you to tell them that you love the way that they're not maladaptive, not malcontent, not malignant or maleficent, but rather that you love them exactly the way that everybody else is”

yep. so the bell curve, the statistical graph, the idea that their child could sit perfectly at the average as the cishet kid their parents expected them to be. the way that they’re not “maladaptive, not malcontent, not malignant or maleficent”, which can all be adjectives weaponized in queerphobic rhetoric against the queer community. and the final line, that their parents love the child “exactly the way that everybody else is”. their parents hold their child to a supposed “norm” that does not really exist because of how suppressed queerness is in society, that the norm is most likely not the norm at all and who’s to say what’s a norm? their parents love them when they are “normal” and it feels like that’s the only way they’ll ever be able to love you. they’ll not be able to learn how to love a different you. 

“I was nothing before so I couldn’t have asked to be born I'll be nothing again, so what am I between now and then? Is there nothing to fear? Cause sh*t's getting weird So to God who made this man, you better have one hell of a plan”

deep breath. okay. okay. first of all, will wood’s inflections from the last line of the first bridge all throughout the second bridge are gorgeous and hit so hard. 

but yeah. here we go here we go ho boy

the idea that birth in itself is actually an immoral thing, since children don’t ask to be born. they don’t ask to be brought into this world, to experience this world, to develop mental illnesses and to face queerphobia or discrimination or danger in any sense because of who they are. they don’t ask to be born into a family that consistently alienates them and forces them to keep quiet about something that’s so important to them. and the child, in learning that their parents are queerphobic and will never accept them the way they are, realizes now even more that they never asked to be born. they didn’t ask for this closeted life. they didn’t ask for this kind of pain, this kind of false love, this kind of otherness. they never asked for any of this. 

“i’ll be nothing again...” the idea that life is finite, that they’ll become that “nothing” they were before they were born if they come out to their parents because in that sense, it’s the parents asking themselves, “why did we have a child that turned out this way? we didn’t ask for this kind of child. we never asked for this kind of person. we never asked to raise them as they are now.” look if you can’t fucking accept that your child will be anything other than a cishet individual made to play out your nuclear family life so you can project your ideas of parenting and hopefully help parent your grandchildren in all the ways you fucked up your own kids i want you to-to- the window is right there. leave. fucking leave. 

“Is there nothing to fear? Cause sh*t's getting weird So to God who made this man, you better have one hell of a plan”

is there really nothing to fear, from your parents? they’re supposed to be your closest guidance but is there truly nothing to fear from them if they hate the idea of who you really are? the child is questioning their identity (”shit’s getting weird”) and everything they’ve ever perceived their parents as is thrown up in the air.

and we can’t have all this internalized queerphobia without some religious trauma, can we? the child asks the all knowing, all seeing God, “what was your plan for me?” did this God intend for this child to have to go through this pain? this suffering which is often carried out in the name of aforementioned deity? this God better have one hell of a plan, really, because this child sure as hell needs one, and this God better have a good enough excuse to be able to redeem themselves in this child’s eyes. 

all the choruses are just the child constantly asking their parents: “am i normal enough?” “do i need to pretend more?” “i know i owe you this much at least, can you tell me you love me? the normal me?” “can you tell me you love me at all?”

[spookyspaghettisundae]

Answers Found in Silence

Vincent licked his lips.

The blood tasted like iron, but the vision of the masterful painting before him absorbed his entire attention.

He loved paintings. He loved living vicariously through them. The rush it filled him with whenever his eyes followed every stroke of the brush, paint layered as passionate memories upon canvas, the sheer essence that the artist channeled into creating such masterpieces.

Seeing what they saw. Breathing what they breathed. Imagining what they must have heard at the time. Tasting what they sampled upon their tongues.

Absentmindedly, he licked his lips again, only now realizing how much blood must have sprayed his face upon bludgeoning a man to death. It took him out of his revelry. That taste of iron prevented him from embarking on another journey through the lens of the painting.

Vincent dabbed his lower lip, then inspected his fingertips, ensuring with a glance that it was indeed another man's blood.

He turned to the corpse splayed out on the marble floor behind him, in the middle of a pool of his own bodily fluids. Vincent scanned the dead body with silent contempt. His lip curled into a sneer. He shook his head in disbelief.

"Philistine," he muttered.

The knife that Sir Dorsey Dwyer had held now lay on the shiny floor beside him, underneath a reflective surface comprised of his own spilled lifeblood, pumped out to completion by his heart's merciless beating, throbbing until he had exhaled his last breath.

Dwyer had threatened to do harm with that knife. Not harm to Vincent—but to the painting. An act of aggression he could not tolerate. An act of spite which he would not suffer.

That they would not suffer.

"Yes," whispered his favorite voice. That sweetest voice. "You did well, my love. Revenge for a loved one he had lost, I can always fathom, but what he would have done to the painting never would have—"

"Brought him back," said Vincent, Lord of the Bailyview, seemingly to himself.

Nobody but him could hear the phantasmal companion whose sentence he had finished. He stood alone in that spacious hall, company only to his late colleague's corpse growing cold. Sparing little glance to the bent candelabra which had caved in Dwyer's skull, he turned to gaze at the painting again.

He said, "It is a bit of a bother though. I need to figure out how to get his sorry carcass out of here without getting caught red-handed, or our time together may just be spent in a cell in the Tower."

She stayed silent.

He rubbed thumb and bloodstained fingers together, marveling at the sensation of that warm slick fluid trapped between them. Though rare for him to take another person's life, he rarely felt anything even remotely related to remorse.

Like this painting.

A beautiful portrait of a quaintly handsome man. Staring off to the side through hazel eyes, head crowned by messy hair, garbed in a fancy dress likely donned just for the portrait's painter—or imagined, as it contrasted the rest of his appearance so.

The painter had clearly seen something in the motif of his masterpiece. Felt something for the man depicted on the canvas.

And the painter had been nobody less than the infamous Outer Wall Reaper. The murderer who had kept the city locked in a breathless fear, rendered masses afraid of the killer who stalked its streets by night, picking off people and making them disappear until only mangled bodies surfaced in the slums, organs missing.

And now, Vincent owned this painting, stolen from the Reaper's vandalized home by looters before an angry mob fully thrashed it. The piece of art had found its way into the private collection of this rich and handsome playboy.

"So fascinating," said she.

Orinrya.

"The painter? Or the subject?" he asked.

She rendered a whole aria, carried in the singsong of a single word as she replied, "Both."

He chuckled.

"So rare for us to glimpse what such a pure soul saw as attractive," she added.

"Pure soul?" scoffed Vincent. But he smiled.

"Yes. Just look at the way he painted every single hair on his head. What little attention he paid to the shirt's collar or the bow, while having slaved over the sheen he had seen on this man's skin. The hand that guided that brush also guided the needles and scalpels that took all those lives, in all those cold and dreary nights. The warmth of their blood, steaming in the snow—"

"You're right."

"Hm?"

"I see it," breathed Vincent.

He sighed. Shot another glance at the dead man on the floor, repeating his oath, "Philistine. To think—you almost robbed our world of this masterpiece. The single only painting the Reaper may have ever made."

Dwyer had been out of line; he had had no right to destroy it. Nobody did. The stupid fop had foolishly tried to put knife to the canvas, to slice it to ribbons in a fit of rage upon hearing who had painted the portrait. A petty act of revenge, as if it would have brought back his slain brother, the only wealthy victim whose life the Reaper claimed in his rampage through the slums. Caught with a night worker, no less, adding insult to injury.

And to imagine that a simple painting could have been the object of his impotent rage—no, they would never have suffered such petty revenge. After all, it was not the artwork that had taken his brother's life.

Snatching a gas lantern from the table, Vincent raised it in front of the painting and frowned. Though perfect for the simple sandalwood frame, this artificial light did not do the artwork itself any justice. The long, foggy night had swallowed the sun, and Vincent could not wait to behold the Reaper's artistry again in broad daylight.

In a way, the Outer Wall Reaper had just claimed another life. Even if only indirectly. Vincent smiled at that thought. That he had accidentally become the murderer's own instrument.

Almost as if on cue to disrupt his morbid amusement, someone knocked on the door.

Muffled through the entrance still closed, the butler spoke, "Milord, I heard—"

"It's fine, Perry. Brace yourself as you enter. Sir Dwyer had a," Vincent's words trailed off like these thoughts. He smiled again to himself before he finally finished the sentence. "He had an unfortunate accident."

He never turned around. The doors to the gallery opened and Perry entered. His shoes squeaked as he swiveled and froze in place, staring at the corpse.

"An accident with a candelabra, I see," said the butler with his usual measure of dripping sarcasm. "Looks like the poor chap fell backwards into it. Repeatedly."

Vincent chortled, still admiring the painting. He never understood how Perry found it in him to deliver such deadpan remarks without breaking out into laughter himself.

Their gazes met for a second, and as always, Vincent read no fear in Perry's eyes. They would never harm a hair on each other's heads, and knowing each other's dirty secrets assured mutual silence—or mutual destruction.

"What would you have me do about this mess, sir?"

Vincent clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"Pay no mind. Fetch me everything for some absinthe. I will take care of the late Sir Dwyer myself. And as you recall, he showed up here all drunk off his arse. I don't think anybody knows he even came here. And someone in the constabulary... still owes me a favor. I'll have it all sorted out soon, no worries."

"Despite the recent disaster at your party?"

"Oh, let them all talk. I love being the center of attention. Next thing you know, I'll be the headline of another lurid article," Vincent said, painting a picture in the air with a hand, fingers splayed as he envisioned the printed piece. "Painting me as the Outer Wall Reaper himself, while others rush to defend my name and trip over themselves in fabricating all the reasons why I would never harm a fly."

Vincent arched his brow as he flashed his loyal butler a twisted smile. The same involuntary expression to mark his face whenever he felt like he was winning a game. And he always won the games that people played in the rumor mill.

"I am less concerned about them, milord. And more about how difficult it will be to clean after the constabulary concludes their investigation." Perry raised his nose and stared down at it, gray cheeks reddening.

"Hm. I am terribly sorry about all that, Perry. You have my word; I'll hire someone to take care of it. Now—how about that absinthe?"

The butler emitted a grunt in recognition, bowed, and backed out of the gallery hall again, leaving Vincent alone with the corpse.

And Orinrya.

The door clicked as it shut completely.

"He's such a good friend of the family," she said. "Three generations, and now the old codger's stuck with handling your caprice."

She smiled through Vincent's own lips. He smiled to himself, as well.

"I'm sure he has his own share of amusements," he said. Focusing on the painting again, he asked, "Now, where do you think this one leads? It's just blank around the subject. Well, not entirely blank. There's some color, some suggestion of gloom. I'd wager he painted it just this same winter. But without background—no context. A blind journey. We've never done that before."

"And that's why we will, darling. You cannot resist."

He smiled even wider.

Orinrya was right. She knew his thoughts, reading them as clearly as if he had spoken them out loud, giving them air. She knew his capricious nature as well as he did, or perhaps even better. Knew he could not pass up on any opportunity to explore the unknown. He bored quickly of things familiar and always sought to visit a new horizon whenever it presented itself.

He flopped down onto the sofa with a heavy sigh, his velvety upholstered oasis in the middle of this opulent marble gallery. Surrounded by alabaster statues of ancient deities, and arrays of exquisite paintings that his family had amassed over all these years to plaster the high walls. The lights from gaslit lanterns cast pockets of eerie glow throughout the gigantic hall.

Vincent tapped his chiseled blood-splattered chin as he once more marveled at the craftsmanship that had gone into painting this portrait.

"What do think is his name? Or was?" he asked.

"Eric," she said. Giggled. "He looks like an Eric to me. And still alive, I feel."

Vincent chuckled.

"So, you're picking up on a name with an 'E'. Perhaps Egon? Egon. Hm. What a funny name," he mused.

"Edward. That must be it, for sure."

"How would you know?"

"Call it—intuition," she cooed.

"Or should I call it whispers? The things you hear from the beyond? You never answered, love. You never told me where you came from."

"And perhaps I never will," she breathed with melody, drawing out another smile from him.

The set of double doors opened into the gallery. The butler entered. Empty glasses and sugar cubes in a small metal cup tinkled and clattered until he arrived by the sofa's side. He set the contents of his tray down onto the table by the sofa, one by one, preparing everything for Vincent's ritual.

Before he could seize the bottle of green liquid to pour him a glass, Vincent raised a jewelry-clad hand to stop Perry.

"That'll be all. Thank you," he told him. "I'll take it from here."

Perry nodded, bowed again, and left the gallery, shedding not even a glance in the direction of Dwyer's corpse.

The doors clicked shut again.

"You know you don't need that, right?" asked Orinrya.

"Yes. But I just—I enjoy it too much. I like the taste. I associate it with our study of these pieces. With our journeys."

He chuckled again.

Perching a sugar cube atop the glass with the ornate spoon—and his family's crest of the eagle cut into the silver piece of specialized cutlery—he poured the sweet green spirit into his clear cup. The trickle of liquid tickled his senses.

And he lived for all manner of sensations.

"It is a lovely taste, I must concede," she said. "Particularly this bottle, this make. More than mere resemblance of licorice. Mint. Thyme? And a hint of other worlds. I do understand the appeal, don't get me wrong."

A delighted sigh escaped his throat as he cradled the glass between the fingers of one hand, swirling its contents like fine wine and sampling the drink's scent.

"Other worlds indeed," he said, the smile never fading from his face.

He sipped from the glass. Heat spread over his palate with a pleasant warmth, like a beautiful wildfire consuming the countryside, burning away every hint of iron and blood. He closed his eyes as he savored the aftertaste, and took another longing sip, kissing the glass like he would his many lovers, the men and women he consorted with behind closed doors at his many lavish parties.

"Drink, sweet prince," she said. "I long to see what lies beyond. I wish to meet this man for myself. To see what the Reaper saw."

"Taste what the Reaper tasted," breathed Vincent, licking his lips again, now only tasting the sweet sting of the green fairy, any tang of blood having been relegated into memory.

He focused on the painting. Drinking in the portrait's details. Warm tones made up the complexion of the artist's subject. Streaks and dabs of gray peppered dark hair despite the youthful and symmetrical face. A faint hint of stubble around the small and tender-looking lips and a soft chin.

And such kind eyes. So utterly kind.

What had the Reaper seen? Who was this mysterious subject?

"The killer became obsessed with him," Orinrya whispered. "Watched him from afar. But not like he watched the others."

Vincent sipped more from his cup; his sights fixed on the portrait. The spirit burned his throat on the way down and blood now rushed in his ears.

"Do you think he would have kept him for last? After torching down the entire world, would he have kept him around, do you think?"

"Not for long," she said. "Those kind eyes, he would not have been able to bear them for all eternity. Those eyes, painted thus, they knew not who watched him. What watched him. What monster—"

"Oh, my dear, let us not wield that word lightly," Vincent said.

His eyes fell shut as he drank more from the cup. The cool steel framing its glass made his silky palm tingle.

"Oh, but my dear, he is one of us," she sang.

"Was," said Vincent, breaking out into another chuckle.

Opening his eyes to continue gazing into the soft amber irises of the portrait's eyes, Vincent's vision blurred.

"Yes, was," she chimed in, joining him with melodious laughter in his mind.

"And this—Edward, you say—"

"Yes. Certainly Edward. I see a room. Orderly. Well-organized. Neatly arranged instruments. Cabinets filled with... medicine."

"A doctor?" asked Vincent with a lopsided smile, arching a brow.

"A doctor."

He drank more from the cup. Lost all sense of time as his senses dulled, losing track of how often he repeated the motion—the trickle of green spirit soaked up by the sugar cube, trailing down through the family crest into the cup, and burning in his throat as he sent it to cascade past his luscious lips and tongue.

"Here, in this very city, am I right?"

"Yes, dear. He is near. I feel it."

As his vision faded, his memory soon followed into the hazy mist.

Vincent cradled the bottle. Empty, save for a few droplets. They laughed as its glass shattered somewhere on the floor, no further mind paid to its breaking after jettisoning it away in a languid arc.

"I can almost taste it."

The lingering smell of the spirit occluded his senses further, but he began to smell another sharp substance.

Rubbing alcohol.

"We're getting closer, love," she whispered.

Every time he blinked, his eyelids grew heavier. His vision of the portrait turned into a blob of warm colors in dim light. The kind eyes of the mystery man in the painting—Edward—soon peeled away from that unseen something off to the right side of the image, and the doctor in the painting turned his head to look back at his spectators.

Then he looked out a window. His motions were slow, deliberate.

They felt that he felt watched.

"A busy street by day, just outside that window," Orinrya said.

"A foggy day," Vincent ventured. "A day not long ago."

"Only days around when the Reaper started his spree."

"Oh, how he cherished knowing how this beautiful man—this oblivious doctor—was unwittingly helping him."

"Did he provide the instruments?"

"Or drugs, perhaps?"

"No, just the thing to stab. A precise thing."

"A needle," they both said in unison, their voices blending until they matched. Orinrya spoke through his mouth. "A syringe."

Two voices. Not one.

The lantern's flame flickered but stayed alight. Turned bright blue. The world began to fade.

"Inspiration."

"He inspired him. Oh, he quaffed the nectar of this man's innocence—"

"Watched from afar, even before he started claiming lives—"

"Twisted it into something darker—"

"Something fierce—"

"Oh, the delicious transgression."

The lights throughout the gallery went out, one by one, until all but the lantern sitting on the floor between sofa and the lonesome painting remained lit. An orange-hued island in the middle of a sea of darkness. On one edge, the dapper lordling lounged, limbs drooping lazily off the sides. On the other, the painting.

The handsome man had disappeared from it.

Vincent brushed over his own lips and the numbness had set in. Unable to feel his own fingers, it felt like someone else caressed him, like she had planted there a gentle kiss.

They no longer saw a portrait, but another place. A window into that other location: a doctor's practice. Vacant of people, with shadows flitting about, hints of its owner leaping from one task to another chore, as day and night cycled rapidly, bouncing back and forth.

Meticulously washing his hands in the sink. Examining a sitting patient's eyes. Carefully bringing scalpel to an exposed arm. A laugh to defuse some fear. Blood, dabbed away with cloth in slender hands. A warm and kind smile to match the gaze from the painting, a patient calmed by his gentle disposition.

Oblivious of the darkness that watched him, reaching through past and present and now seeing that darkened room. A solid night, a roiling fog outside the windows. Like one monster once watched, spying from the outside, they now peered through painting, bridging time and space.

Vincent lurched up onto his feet and stumbled halfway on the infinitely long walk towards the painting. Glass shards crunched underneath his shoe, reminiscent of the blanket of snow outside, melting into the flurries of crystallized precipitation which he saw through the painting, falling softly to cobblestone-covered streets outside the practice's window.

Though numbed by stupor, the bumps and ridges of dried paint surfaced in a texture he traced with his fingertips, exploring the picture of the painting. No longer depicting the kind-faced doctor, but his practice, blanketed entirely by night.

"Push, my love. Let us explore."

And Vincent did. Pressed his palm against the painting, and ripples exploded outwards from it, as if he had disturbed the surface of a still pond. The image swallowed his hand and he pushed deeper, until he dove into that distorted image, neither place nor person, stepping entirely through.

As he stumbled again and blinked to orient himself, he stood inside that doctor's practice.

Rocked back and forth as the absinthe did its number on his coordination, barely able to read the handwriting on letters stacked on a desk.

Orinrya whispered through Vincent's lips, "Doctor Edward—"

"Carnaby," Vincent finished himself, slurring the surname in a drunken drawl, erupting into a stupid giggle.

He slapped the paper back down onto the desk and looked about, letting his eyes adjust.

"Do we truly travel to these places, love?"

"Or is it just a jaunt of the mind?" she countered.

"A little escape that leaves the flesh behind?"

He giggled another drunken giggle as he clumsily knocked over objects on the desk, causing them to clink and clatter and a small broken vial to gurgle out liquid. Something black, likely ink.

"Oh fairy, my green fairy," he murmured with the most melody that a positively drunken man could muster.

"This is all us, darling. No fairy needed. Just some added fun for your pleasure."

He pushed through a door, stumbling down dark corridors, and registering the softness of a carpet beneath his shoes.

"But it's so much fun, love—"

Vincent froze.

Bathed in a bright sliver of silver moonlight from a crack between the curtains, a woman lay in bed. A shapely face, heavily scarred, and peacefully resting, eyes closed.

"Oh, here we go again," mused Orinrya. "Be still, your beating heart."

Arms exposed above the sheets, wreathed in bandages, leaving just enough space for Vincent to take a seat at the sleeping woman's side. The mattress and bed creaked underneath his weight.

The scars on her cheek, as disfiguring they were, he saw past them and found a beauty he would have overlooked otherwise. But it was the scarring that captured his entire attention.

"Yet another fancy for you to entertain, love?"

He shushed Orinrya.

His fingers shook with the green fairy's tremors and an enamored fascination. He traced over the lines of those scars, an uneven drawing from a cut inflicted by a blade, that wandered over cheek to nose. Crisscrossing into another scar that ran across the nose, where ridge had broken once. Gingerly exploring the uneven surface of her warm skin where a hound's claw had raked her jaw. Her soft and shallow breath, he felt even with hands so numb.

So focused, so spellbound—

"Careful now," Orinrya whispered.

Vincent whispered back, "Sound asleep—"

"Look," she said. "Look away."

"No, I shall not."

"Look beside her, I say! Look. On the bedside table," Orinrya urged him. The singsong gone, her tone had fallen deathly serious.

That was when his blurry gaze finally came to rest upon it.

A leatherbound tome. Strange glyphs carved into its face.

Another gasp escaped Vincent's throat, all attention for the beautifully scarred woman now blown away.

An authentic tome of magick. He felt it. He felt its thrum. No ordinary book he had ever seen had ever looked like that. It had to be.

The prize he had sought for so long.

"Take me," Orinrya whispered.

No—the tome had whispered that. In his mind. Like her?

Right?

"Take it," she whispered in his mind. "Take it."

His hands trembled—hovered just above the cool leather surface of the book. How he yearned to rip it open and decipher its inscriptions. But his reverence weighed so heavily, the dread of what terrible secrets it may contain, it boggled his mind. His hesitation dragged on forever, mired in a swamp of lost time and a drunken haze.

"Take it," she hissed. Commanding.

His fingers trembled even more as they crept closer towards the edges of the book, keen on flipping the lid and perusing its mysterious pages.

He hesitated for too long.

"What are you doing in here?" a man blurted out behind them.

In the door to the room stood a dark silhouette. The squeak of metal and a clicking sound preceded a lantern going on.

The doctor. This Edward Carnaby. The kind face from the painting, kindness far from its current expression. Glaring at Vincent.

"Who in the blazes are you?" asked the doctor.

Brows furrowed; the moonlight twinkled with fear in the doctor's pupils.

Vincent rose to his feet and lurched towards him, tripping over a chair's leg. He caught himself against a dresser before he could fully plummet to the floor. Laughed, drunkenly.

"Should he see your face?" Orinrya asked. Another murmur in Vincent's thoughts. "Should he remember?"

"No. Yes!" Vincent said, followed by another clipped giggle.

Alibi, he thought. So convenient. If this was even real.

Doctor Carnaby cried, "Get out! Before I fetch a constable!"

The good doctor threatened, yet he took a timid step backwards, back into the hallway behind him. Frightened by the nightly invader in his home.

"Sorry good, sir," Vincent's words lurched as much as he did with his drunken gait. "I must have been confused. Long night—o-out drinking, you see."

"Get out!" repeated the doctor with more force. His voice trembled with terror.

Leaning against the dresser, sliding, and almost slipping as he propped himself up, Vincent eked out a theatrical gesture with his arm and bowed, nearly toppling over in the process. "I'm Lord Vincent Va—"

"I don't care who in the devil's name you are, you are bothering my patient, you drunken lout! Get! Out! " The doctor's fear audibly subsided. He cleared his throat and pointed a finger down the hallway, directing Vincent to leave that way.

He stepped aside demonstratively and waited for Vincent to follow his instructions.

"Yes, yes, yes. As I was saying, good sir, I must have taken the wrong turn—wrong door, you know, it happens," he said with a smile, growing aware of how much less charming he was whenever he was this heavily intoxicated. "Vincent Vance is the name, Lord of Bailyview. Terribly sorry if I broke anything on the way in—"

Doctor Carnaby's face fell through different stages. The dread dropped into fury, and the fury made way for confusion and mild annoyance, with a dash of pity.

"Just leave, please."

"Right," Vincent said, covering his mouth and feigning the urge to throw up, replete with a retching sound.

Carnaby waited patiently for him to step outside, and Vincent obliged. Stared over his shoulder as he turned into the hallway and stopped there—the scarred woman stirred, and more importantly, that leatherbound tome eyelessly stared back at him.

Beckoning him.

He wanted it so badly. Had to peel his gaze from the book. Had to tell himself he'd be back for it. Flashed a stupid grin at the doctor and stumbled forth.

The glow from the doctor's lantern made it easier to navigate the dark hallway, and in the blurry haze where time and space melted into one misty soup, he braced himself against a wall on the way until he pushed through a door that should have led outside. He slammed it shut behind him, more fiercely than he had intended.

But he did not find himself outside on the street, in the cold, where his breath condensed before his mouth, standing in the pale moonlight as it pierced a ring of clouds—but back in the gallery in front of the living painting of Doctor Edward Carnaby.

The doctor glared into the night outside his front door. Poked his head outside to see where his nightly intruder had staggered off to but paid it no more mind. Did not notice a lack of footprints in the thin layer of snow. He shut the door. The lock loudly fell into place.

Vincent leaned against the wall, watching through the painting.

The snowfall of flurries gently drifting down onto the cobblestone-covered streets made him sway again, made Vincent's legs buckle. Hypnotic as it was, it almost fully robbed him of his senses.

He crashed back down onto that comfortable sofa inside his opulent gallery.

"A fascinating jaunt, darling," said Orinrya.

"And a convenient alibi," he replied, shooting another glance at Sir Dwyer's body.

They laughed at the dead philistine.

The blur continued, as Vincent did not recall how he had gotten from the Reaper's painting of Doctor Carnaby in the main hall—to his private parlor.

Slumped into a different sofa, he peered up at the gigantic portrait of himself.

The renowned painter Léon Choffard had spent months completing this masterpiece. A stylized depiction of Vincent's likeness. Though already statuesque in the flesh, Choffard's artistry had lent the portrait a special something that portrayed Vincent as even more attractive than humanly possible—which Vincent regularly and smirkingly attributed to their brief and romantic tryst.

"It truly captures your pleasant face," Orinrya said.

"Thank you, dear."

Silence.

A large clock tick-tocked away from the edge of the room, with everything around him swamped in shadows, two lanterns shedding just enough light that he could study the rendition of his own portrait.

"I wonder," he suddenly said. "What would happen if we entered that picture? Where would it take us?"

Silence.

Orinrya stayed silent.

"Hm, I like that answer. It is intriguing, love. So mysterious. You say so much by saying nothing, you know that?"

She laughed inside his head. A sweet and seductive laugh. He smiled in response.

"Will you ever tell me what you are? Or is that destined to be our perpetual dance?"

She laughed more.

"In due time," she said.

"Like getting our hands on that book."

"Yes, in due time, darling."

"And the woman."

"The scarred one?"

"No. Yes. Her too," he said. He bit his lip, clamped his eyes shut and sighed. "I meant the lady from the new world, that witch-doctor. And all the others in her company. That bandaged inquisitor—oh, how I would like to peel his bandages away and hear all his stories. It's brilliant how all these fascinating people—and things—are all coming together here, all at once."

"Yes. You feel it," Orinrya said.

"Feel what?"

"The quickening."

"What do you mean?"

"Something new being born. Old dreams that are dying, and a new world being birthed before our eyes," she breathed.

Vincent shuddered with a chill running down his spine.

"And what is this new world you speak? You must know. You know so much. I know you know," Vincent whispered, erupting into a crazed cackle over how silly he found his own words.

She smiled. He felt it. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled as a soft breeze swept through his parlor like a ghostly presence. Like soft fingertips that brushed against his lips, not his own. Or perhaps his own, just numbed from the excess of strong spirits only slowly wearing off.

"The real question, darling—what will you do when you bear witness to the reckoning? Will you hold the reins? Or will you pass them off to see what spectacle others may unfold?" Orinrya asked.

The corners of his lips twitched. Both he and she, they smiled simultaneously.

Not gracing her questions with any straight answer, he only returned more questions.

"Are you angel? Or devil?"

Silence.

"Good answer."

He laughed a hollow laugh, eventually mounting into a long and wistful sigh.

Vincent drifted off into a dreamless sleep. And he never yearned for such, as he lived his dreams in every waking moment.

A lingering thought that swam atop the sea of oblivion.

Sputtering awake, the lanterns were no longer lit. Daylight flooded through open doors into the parlor. He still rested in the sofa, sprawled out across it like his own likeness in the gigantic portrait towering over him.

The air was cold and had left him with a painfully stiff neck.

As he shuffled lazily across shiny marble floors, he surveyed the damage he had wrought the night before. The glass shards scattered across the gallery, and the dead body of Sir Dwyer, still left in his own pool of blood.

Work to do. A body to be rid of. A chief to blackmail. A new slew of rumors to seed.

The rich lord took a deep breath and sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck.

He smiled.

"Oh, the woes of pleasure before business," he reckoned.

They both laughed at the thought.

"But that book—"

"Will be ours."

"Its magick—"

"We will wield it," they sang together, dulcet syllables spilling from Vincent's lips.

"Or will you be wielding it, while I soar to incredible heights on your back?" he asked.

And there was silence.

—Submitted by Wratts

[cardest]

Italy & Rome playlist

Pizza. Fiat. Centurions. Fulci. Argento. Morricone. It’s all here in this Roma - Italia playlist. If you love ancient Roman history and horror film soundtracks, this is the playlist for you! Hit play right here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-iHPcxymC18JtHohAYmD7g1FGA8S-D2B

Nero would enjoy this playlist! But, if there is a song or band I forgot or even a horror film soundtrack, or Italian prog record I mighta missed, let me know! This is one of my favorite playlists. Grazie!

ITALIA & ROMA

001 Goblin - La caccia 002 High On Fire -  Romulus And Remus 003 Braens Machine - Flying 004 Piero Umiliani - Produzione 005 Fantomas - Page 1 [6 Frames] 006 Lucio Fulci's Zombie Theme(1979) 007 Tullio De Piscopo drum pattern - Samba Carnival 008 Quella Vecchia Locanda - Il Tempo Della Gioia 009 Sandro Brugnolini - Amofen 010 Ufomammut - Mars 011 Gerardo Iacoucci - Tradimento 012 Procol Harum - Conquistador   013 LA TERZA MADRE  - Main Theme by Claudio Simonetti 014 Fantomas -  The Godfather 015 Toto Cutugno - L'Italiano 016 CHILDREN OF TECHNOLOGY - Fear the mohawk reaper 017 Ennio Morricone -  Non Rimane Piu Nessuno 018 Mina - Non credere 019 Bölzer - Roman Acupuncture 020 Jerry Goldsmith The Omen OST - Ave Satani 021 Lou Monte - roman guitar 022 Tony Di Marti - L'Uccellino Della Comare   023 Paul Chain Violet Theatre - 17 day 024 Satyricon -  The Ghost of Rome 025 Ghost - Con Clavi Con Dio 026 Charles Aznavour - Com'a Triste Venezia 027 Jula de Palma - Tua (1959) versione originale 028 Dean Martin - That's Amore   029 FORGOTTEN TOMB - We Owe You Nothing 030 Mike Patton - Ti Offro Da Bere 031 Death SS - Heavy Demons 032 The Lord Weird Slough Feg - Sword of Machiavelli 033 Afterhours - Milano Circonvallazione Esterna 034 Fantomas -  Page 17 [14 Frames] 035 Gluttony -  The Rise Of Pompey 036 Sherpa - Kim (((o))) Tigris & Euphrates 037 Umberto Tozzi Gloria - Italian Version 038 Franco Bracardi & Giorgio Bracardi -  Lo Strangolatore Di Boston 039 Black Hole - Bells of Death 040 Tarantella Pugliese - La Rondinella 041 Pino Villa- A Mucca Pazza 042 Opera IX - Bela Lugosi's Dead 043 MARIO MOLINO - TRAFFICO CAOTICO 044 Lucio Battisti - La Collina Dei Ciliegi 045 Tenebre (Main Title) by Goblin 046 SYK - FONG 047 FUOCO FATUO - Sulphureous Hazes 048 Primordial -  As Rome Burns 049 Abysmal Grief - Crypt of Horror 050 Mike Patton/Mondo Cane - re D'Amore 051 The Man from U. N. C. L. E. Soundtrack - Jimmy Renda Se 052 Stelvio Cipriani - Papaya 053 Fantomas - Page 28 [20 Frames] 054 Carlo Maria Cordio - Rosso Sangue (Absurd) 055 Emma De Angelis - Trip 056 BRUNO NICOLAI-Red Cats (1975) 057 Duncan Dhu - La barra de este hotel 058 FROZEN CROWN - Neverending 059 Pavor na Cidade dos Zumbis (City of the Living Dead, 1980) Theme 060 Jarboe & Father Murphy - The Ferryman 061 Mudhoney - When In Rome 062 Fantomas - Page 21 [11 Frames] 063  Ancient Roman Music - Synaulia I 064 Behemoth - Rome 64 C.E. / Slaying the Prophets ov Isa 065 Clutch - Nero's Fiddle 066 Gluttony -  The Rise Of Sulla 067 Goblin - L'alba dei morti viventi 068 Elvis Presley - Heart Of Rome 069 Bulldozer - Insurrection Of The Living Damned 070 Peggy Lee - When In Rome (I Do as the Romans Do) 071 Osanna - Variazione I (To Plinius) 072 GIULIANO SORGINI - Ultima Caccia 073 Ennio Morricone - Metti una sera a cena 074 Sepultura -  The Vatican 075 Rome Soundtrack 02 The Forum 076 Fantomas -  Page 4 [11 Frames] 077 Gladiator - Theme Song 078 Avantasia - The Glory of Rome 079 Caligula (1979)-Opening Credits 080 Umberto -  Temple Room 081 SODOM - Caligula 082 Lacuna Coil -  Survive 083 Gigliola Cinquetti - Non ho leta 084 Lucio Battisti - Emozioni 085 Goblin -  Markos 086 MIke Patton -  Urlo Negro 087 Sandro Brugnolini -  Megattera 088 Fantomas -  Page 25 [34 Frames] 089 The Italian Job Soundtrack- Opening Titles 090 Fabio Frizzi - Un Gatto Nel Cervello 091 Heidevolk - Het verbond met Rome 092 Messiah - Nero 093 Julio Iglesias - Todo el amor que te hace falta 094 Calabria - Luna Calabrisi 095 Various Artists -  Iena Sequence 096 Fantomas -  Page 5 [7 Frames] 097 Perry Como Mandolins In The Moonlight 098 The Beyond Soundtrack - main theme 099 Mercyful Fate - Gypsy 100 Goblin -  Suspiria 101 Ufomammut - Empireum 102 Diaframma - Neogrigio 103 Umberto -  The Psychic 104 NecroDeath - Master Of Morphine 105 The Dirtiest - Cento shot 106 Fantomas -  Page 29 [39 Frames] 107 La Morte Viene Dallo Spazio - Ashes 108 Achille Togliani Fontana Di Trevi 109 MV & EE - Much obliged 110 Isis Synaulia - Musica dell'antica Roma 111 Sandro Brugnolini - Marsuino 112 Giobia - far behind 113 Darvaza - silver chalice   114 Fantomas -  Investigation Of A Citizen Above suspicion 115 Rome Soundtrack - Main Title Theme 116 Nebulae - Carbon 117 Beat Fuga - Shake 118 Gruppo folk naxos - Tarantella siciliana 119 Russian Circles - Milano 120 Kalidia - Circe's spell 121 Harlan Williams, Beneath the Iron Heel of Pagan Rome 122 Exhorder - Slaughter in the Vatican 123 Vatican - the 5th of metal 124 Extrema - Deep Infection 125 Rod Stewart - Italian Girls 126 Louis Prima - Buona Sera 127 Mike Patton/Mondo Cane - Che Notte! 128 Sinoath -  Saturnalia 129 Piero Piccioni - L'Italia Vista dal Cielo (Lombardia) 130 PIERO UMILIANI - Topless Party 131 Dean Martin - Arrivederci Roma 132 Fantomas -  Page 30 [2 Frames] 133 Sadist - Nadir 134 Hour of Penance - Rise and Oppress 135  Virgin Steele - The Burning of Rome (Cry for Pompeii) 136 FROZEN CROWN - Battles In The Night 137 The Monolith Deathcult - Demigod 138 PIG DESTROYER -  Machiavellian 139 Raw Power  - State oppresion 140 La luna ammenzu o mari - Folk Sicilia 141 Angels and Demons Soundtrack - Main Theme (Hans Zimmer) 142 Lou Monte - Bella notte 143 Fantomas - Page 7 [6 Frames] 144 Danger Mouse and Daniele Luppi - Theme of ''Rome'' 145 INFERNO OST Dario Argento - MAIN THEME 146 Hombres G - Venezia 147 Rome Soundtracks - The Battle has began (Caesar's Theme) 148 NORA ORLANDI- Ossessione 149 Stelvio Cipriani - Orgasmo Nero 150 Goblin -  Profondo Rosso - Mad Puppet 151 Duatha - Maximinus Thrax 152 Sodom - City of God 153 Caronte - Invocation to Paimon 154 Demoni (Demons) Soundtrack by Claudio Simonetti  - Killing 155 PSYCHEDELIC WITCHCRAFT - Rising On The Edge 156 James Reyne - Fall Of Rome 157 Fantomas -  Vendetta 158  Rome Soundtrack - 16Th Death of Pompey 159 Alessandro Alessandroni & Sorgini Giuliano - Overcraft 160 The Man from U. N. C. L. E. OST - Che Vuole Questa Musica Stasera (Profumo Di Donna) 161 Clutch - Circus Maximus 162 Candlemass - Demons Gate 163 ROME - Uropia O Morte 164 Siouxsie And The Banshees - Cities In Dust (Extended 12 Version) 165 Tony Mottola - You And Only You 166 Musica dell'Antica Roma - Pavor 167 Fantomas - Page 6 [26 Frames] 168 Aborym -  II 169 Scorpions - The Sails Of Charon 170 Blind Guardian -  Lionheart 171 Septicflesh -  Dante's Inferno 172 MESSA - Leah 173 Mike Patton -  Senza Fine 174 Gary Numan - My Centurion 175 Frank Black and the Catholics - Back to Rome 176 Tonino Cavallo - Tarantella Siciliana 177 THE MELVINS - The Bloated Pope 178 Gluttony -  Lucullus In The East 179 Toto - Spanish Steps Of Rome 180 Fantomas -  Page 8 [9 Frames] 181 Mark Lanegan Band - Playing Nero 182 METRALLETA STEIN OST - Telemark 183 Luciano Pavarotti - Sole Mio 184 Jorja Chalmers - red light 185 Blood Ceremony -  Faunus 186 EKPYROSIS - Profound Death 187 Corleone  - Tutto diventerà rosso (feat. Mike Patton) 188 Primus -  The Storm 189 Museo Rosenbach - Superuomo 190 IVANO FOSSATI - MILANO 191 Lucio Dalla - Milano 192 Fantomas -  Page 9 [11 Frames] 193 Alessandro Allesendroni - Remember 194 Le Orme - Felona & Sorona - Return To Naught 195 Rome - The Spanish Drummer 196 Epitaph  -  Beyond the Mirror 197 Ephel Duath - The Passage 198 Three of You - New Life 199 Walter Rizzati I remember (Quella villa accanto al cimitero) 200 Lacuna Coil -  Heaven's A Lie 201 Judas Priest - Nostradamus 202 Triumvirat - Vesuvius 79 A.D. 203 Amedeo Tommasi - Exploration 204 Nero Kane † Lord Won't Come 205 FULCI - Eye Full Of Maggots 206 ULVER - Nemoralia 207 Voltumna  - Roma Delenda Est 208 Adorable - Sistine Chapel Ceiling 209 I Gres - Restless 210 Rita Pavone - Il Geghegè 211 Jahbulong - Under the influence of the fool 212 Theatres des Vampires -  Sangue 213 Antonio - High Voltage! 214 Fantomas -  Page 23 [17 Frames] 215 Sadist - Enslaver of Lies 216 Bunker 66 - (She's Got) Demon Eyes 217 GIULIANO SORGINI - Mad town 218 Zu -  Ostia 219 Moonraker - Miss Goodhead Meets Bond in Venice 220 Franco Micalizzi - I Due Volti Della Paura 221 John Zorn Naked City - The Sicilian Clan 222 Piero Umiliani - Nel Villaggio 223 Mike Patton/Mondo Cane - Cielo In Una Stanza 224 UFOMAMMUT - Warsheep 225 Fleshgod Apocalypse -  Elegy 226 SLASHER DAVE - Fulzzi 227 Panna Fredda - La Paura 228 Meads Of Asphodel - God Is Rome 229 Nora Orlandi - I Robot Original Version (Il dolce corpo di Deborah) 230 Caronte - Exctasy of Hecate 231 White Skull - Will of the Strong 232 Wotan - Thermopiles 233 Chromatics - Faded Now 234 Fantomas -  Page 2 [7 Frames] 235 Schizo - the main frame collapse 236 Ghost B.C. -  Per Aspera Ad Inferi 237 Dream Theater - The Count Of Tuscany 238 Satyricon -  Commando 239 Psico Galera - La Prima Volta 240 Scolopendra - Priest's blood soup 241 Theatres Des Vampires - 'Til the Last Drop of Blood 242 Victrola - Game of Despair 243 Blue Phantom - Diodo 244 Mortuary Drape - My Soul/primordial 245 Fantomas -  Page 11 [10 Frames] 246 Gianni Ferrio - Un dollaro bucato 247 Ataraxia - Canzona 248 Hexvessel - Phaedra 249 Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra - Some Velvet Morning 250 Mike Patton -  L'Uomo Che Non Sapeva Amare 251 Idiota Civilizzato - Uno E Nessuno 252 Ennio Morricone - Main Theme for Dario Argento's THE CAT O'NINE TAILS 253 Rhapsody - Ascending to Infinity 254 Monumentum - Battesimo: Nero Opaco 255 Opera IX - 1313 (Eradicate the False Idols) 256 Piedone lo sbirro OST - The Baron's death 257 Goblin - Deep red OST main theme 258 EKPYROSIS - Immolate the Denied 259 L'Impero delle Ombre - II Sabba 260 Monte Kristo - The Girl of Lucifer 261 Ghost - Lady Nite 262 Hallowed - Wake Up In The Night 263 Fantomas -  Page 27 [15 Frames] 264 Giuliano Sorgini - Lavoro cerebrale 265 Death SS - Vampire 266 VOLTURIAN - Broken 267 Cradle Of Filth - The 13th Caesar 268 Fulci - tropical sun 269 Alessandro Cortini - Perdere 270 Francesco Guccini - Bologna 271 Abysmal Grief  - Celebrate what they fear 272 Goblin - book of skulls 273 Tom Waits - In The Colosseum 274 Peggy Lee - Autumn In Rome 275 Ruins - Petit Portrait 276 Urna - Omnis Inifinita Mens Est Gremium Et Sepolcrum Universi 277 Nicolas Gaunin - Noa Noa Noa 278 Lacuna Coil - No Need to Explain 279 Theatres Des Vampires - Morgana Effect 280 Sepultura - City of Dis 281 Opera IX - The Oak 282 Rhapsody - Il cigno nero 283 Cripple Bastards  - Variante Alla Morte 284 Goblin - Witch (Susperia OST) 285 Death SS - revived 286 Henning Christiansen - L'essere Umano Errabando La Voca Errabando 287 Rolling Blackouts - The Second Of The First 288 Giuda - Overdrive 289 Hierophant  - Son of the new faith 290 Giorgio Faletti - Nati a Milano 291 Fabio Frizzi - A Cat in the Brain, Sequence 2 292 Dean Martin - On An Evening In Roma (Sott'er Celo De Roma) 293 FLESHGOD APOCALYPSE - Monnalisa 294 Valgrind - The Endless Circle 295 Oceana - Atlantidea Suite Part 1 296 Soda Stereo - Paseando Por Roma 297 Blasphemer - The Sixth Hour 298 Raw Power - Dreamer 299 Mike Patton/Mondo Cane - Deep down 300 Lacuna Coil - Swamped 301 Slalom OST by Ennio Morricone - Main theme 302 Stefano Marcucci - INFERNO 303 Lou Monte - Shaddap Ya Face 304 The Case of the Bloody Iris OST by Bruno Nicolai - Main theme 305 Mortuary Drape - Dreadful discovery 306 Antonio Riccardo Luciani - Cinque sottozero 307 Plateau Sigma -  Ouija and the Qvantvm 308 Piero Piccioni - Colpo rovente OST - main titles 309 Riz Ortolani - sette orchidee macchiate di rosso 310 Ad Nauseam - Imperative Imperceptible Impulse 311 Oliver Onions - Italian Girl 312 Bauhaus - Bela Lugosi's Dead 313 Metamorfosi - Spacciatore di Droga - Terremoto - Limbo 314 Body Count OST by Claudio Simonetti  - main theme 315 Symphony X - Underworld 316 Carlo Savina - Titoli di testa 317 Orchestra King Zerand - Night Song 318 Piero Umiliani - La schiava 319 CLAUDIO SIMONETTI'S GOBLIN - The Devil is back 320 Roman Holiday OST - Main title 666 Fabio Frizzi - Voci Dal Nulla

Perhaps not enough Morricone and needs more Goblin. The next update will have more, I am sure. Play it here:  https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-iHPcxymC18JtHohAYmD7g1FGA8S-D2B

[ohgodmyeyes]

Your writing kind of uh disturbs me? I know ‚don’t like don’t read‘ and normally I would do exactly that,

But

Rape? Incest?? I haven’t looked more into your writings because I was puking when I saw the luke/anakin stuff

„My new favorite ship“ no what the fuck

Who in their right mind ships that??

I was going to delete this the other night, partly because that's what I'd usually do, and partly because I'm actually not sure if you're serious— my sarcasm detector is broken, and I'm a bit incredulous to the idea that anything I've ever written is enough to shock or upset anybody in the year 2021. You didn't call me any nasty names, though (thanks!), and I don't feel like writing anything for real right now... so I'll indulge us both by answering your ask.

First of all, yes, rape is horrifying— that's the way I write it, because that's the way I see it, and I'm honestly kind of glad you see it that way, too. Some rape stories are meant to be read like porn (which is also just fine, by the way), but mine aren't: If you picked up on that, even just through skimming 'Ani', then I feel artistically validated, and owe you a big thanks.

Anidala, as presented to us in canon, says more about mental illness and domestic abuse than I think it intends. People have been using that ship to explore and depict heavy topics for well over a decade now; we wouldn't still be doing it if it weren't a worthwhile pursuit.

It's been said before, but it's always worth saying again— Star Wars is, first and foremost, a story about people who love each other. They love each other for better or for worse, taking all of their damage and trauma and weird conditioning with them. There's only so much that can be explored in canon without rendering the franchise inaccessible to its original intended audience (I get it— my own kid is in the next room watching Lego Star Wars right now), and that's where fanworks come into play. We have complete freedom to look at whatever we want, solely through our own creative power.

Which, I guess, brings me to the incest! I was, at one point, pretty nervous about sharing it; needless to say, I don't feel that way anymore. Mark Hamill and Hayden Christensen are two attractive, completely unrelated men who play two sexy, interesting characters. I like imagining Luke and Anakin together romantically because it's fascinating... and, yes, extremely aesthetically pleasing to me.

Darth Vader is a sad, angry shell of a man for years and years before Luke Skywalker comes into his life. When they 'meet' in the trench on the surface of the Death Star, he feels something he hasn't felt in a long time. He doesn't know Luke is his son at that point, or anything else— all he knows then is that the kid is absolutely bursting with Force energy. He's fascinated, confused, curious, and scared. Those feelings escalate and change enough over the time that passes between ANH and ESB that I totally believe Vader might end up finding himself helplessly infatuated (in his own weird, obsessive way) with young Luke before he knows better.

Their relationship culminates with them claiming an emotional connection which, in my eyes, is unrivalled by anything else either of them ever achieves for themselves. It's a very special bond, and because I'm a mushy horny old lady, I readily read romance into it. I can understand why some people wouldn't, but I can't help the impression I get. Human ingenuity has gifted me a perfectly safe and ethical way to revel in the warm fuzzies I have for these fictional men— and it's not just me, if the infallibly kind response of other ao3 readers is any indication.

Luke and Anakin are both such three-dimensional, relatable, interesting people. There is an endless number of scenarios I can imagine that involve them interacting romantically. Some of those situations are whimsically unrealistic and unabashedly sexy; some of them are deeply disturbing, and very sadly conceivable. Some of them are somewhere in-between, but all of them are entirely imaginary, and you can always count on me to label them accurately.

I'm not bound by real-life ethics or morals when I'm writing fanfiction for free, and neither is anyone else. There are some stories I can't bring myself to read either, and that's alright— those kinds of preferences are both unique to individual people, and endlessly variable. Something I love about stories is that they only take an author to bring them to life; that author can depict essentially whatever they want without having involved anyone but themselves in the production of their work. That's magical! Written language is a man-made miracle, and restricting its use has, historically, never really ended well.

Thank you for giving me an opportunity to talk about some of my favourite people, and why I love writing the things I write about them. I'm largely out-of-touch with what other fans like and dislike, both about my own work and in fandom more generally. I don't know what anyone thinks of anything until they tell me, so I appreciate you doing just that without getting rude about it. :)

[dog-day-morning]

YOU OWE THEM NOTHING

People can be self-righteous when it comes to what they think God is supposed to do if, and when they call on Him. God is not a genie in a bottle that you rub, and a jinn pops out granting you 3 or 300 wishes. The saying faith without works is dead can be applied here. Have you ever heard of or read the book Daniel Webster and the devil? This tall tale or folklore legend was about a man who made a deal with old Slew Foot, and when it was time to pay up he had 2nd thoughts. Satan never plays fair. He's forever putting us in positions where we find ourselves desperate for a quick solution to a temporary problem that only leads to a difficult end. The Latin term for buyer beware is caveat emptor, and Satan knows how to spell. The power of a wicken comes from their basic weapon of spelling or casting spells by word of mouth. Even the Bible tells us that “Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.” Tell that to a Nicolaitan. Those who make deals with the most unclean should expect to suffer in the end. Never trust the father of lies who deals in treachery, and deceit. I look back at my mother's life and wonder if God had ever intervened for her, and fought her battles that surely He and only He would be able to deliver her from, and He has. Life is hard, for many it’s a nightmare that’s ongoing. Satan comes to you when you're at your weakest or most vulnerable in the hopes of snaring your soul into eternal suffering. Jesus comes to deliver us from death, sin, and temptations that confuse us in our trek towards His truth. If you have any aspirations of entertaining people with your gifted voice or your talent for playing lead guitar, don’t sign a contract that promises you the world only to find out you owe them your sweet ass which a man of honor wouldn't consider let alone make you cosign your body for their horn dog appeasement.

Revelation 2:9

9 I know thy works, and tribulation, and poverty, (but thou art rich) and I know the blasphemy of them which say they are Jews, and are not, but are the synagogue of Satan.

You're abundantly rich in spirit Yacob. Now’s the time to claim your position. These bastards have taken everything from you leaving your ancestors nothing but dust. If they could remove us off the face of the Earth they would. They're plotting to do so as you and I breathe, that's why the Father never sleeps. They are demon spawns who say they worship, and believe in God, but whose god, and what righteous god tells you to destroy a people with his blessing knowing what the children of Japheth have done to them historically? The spawns of Satan want your penuche, mouth, titties, and a-hole for their pleasure along with your talent that Justin Timberlake does not have. The new faces of R&B do not look like the people I grew up listening to or the race of people whose songs left an everlasting impression on my bleeding heart that helped me through my ill-fated, miserable existence. Robin Thicke, Christina Aguilera, K-Pop, the BackStreet Boys, and New Kids on the Block. Some of these groups are defunct, but they’re cranking out as many as they possibly can like Justin Bieber, and Demi Lovato. I just saw on YouTube where people were considering if Elvis Presley was Black, WTF?!! He was the biggest culture thief that Dr. Frankenstein, AKA Colonel Parker ever created. Man is cruel; Satan is a whole other type of bastard you shouldn’t entertain. I'm retarded. Some call me an idiot savant. YO MOMMA!!! People are blessed by the Father who has blessed many of us with gifts. There are many of you whom God has endowed with multiple talents that people would sell their soul in order to possess just one. If you're anointed by God to sing like Aretha Franklin may He lead you to sign with a label like Brother Carl Crawford's who won't make the same mistake he did with a very popular artist at this moment. More than likely you'll sign a contract entrusting your talent, blessing, and soul to the most unclean ones. Ain’t a reason in hell you should bow down or bend over for a leach like Mr. Friedman so he can butt bone your a-hole while enriching himself off your God given talents. God blesses those who seek him out, and those that don’t. I don’t know if Eddie Murphy went to Church, and sowed an offering every Sunday to God praying that the Father would make him the highest paid comedic actor in his prime. Richard Pryor was anointed in the womb to be the most blessed comedic talent, and influential comedian to ever walk this Earth bar none yet he and Mr. Murphy pursued their dreams in different ways with both of them becoming world renown. I'm inclined to ask, was it worth it?

Mark 8:36

For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?

The synagogue of Satan isn’t a trending pop culture manifestation that’s to be esteemed, cherished, or envied. These cults are trying to maintain a stranglehold on a world that’s not meant for them or their sort. People who play with Ouija boards or childhood games like Bloody Mary, and light as a feather are ushering dark spirits into their homes leaving their loved ones exposed to something sinister. Get the hell away from me and mine unless you're my sister, AKA Ms. Skunk Funk, who needs to get the crust burnt off her musty, dusty drawers. The whore of Don Juan has a death wish. Explain to me how running with the devil beats walking with God?

Isaiah 59:7

7 Their feet run to evil, and they make haste to shed innocent blood: their thoughts are thoughts of iniquity; wasting and destruction are in their paths.

This Nation was built on our ancestor’s blood, sweat, and relentless faith. Believe me when I say there's strength in every tear. I pray to God that I don’t shed anymore of them. Their wealth is not. It's a stolen Promise that the Father shall reward His children with. Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it. The most glaring, and frustrating example that is also bitter and disheartening I can give you is our Promised Inheritance called Yisrael that the gentiles are squatting on. When a person or in this case a tribe or race of people believe in their own lies they've become reprobate; they're lost.

Revelation 3:9

9 Behold, I will make them of the synagogue of Satan, which say they are Jews, and are not, but do lie; behold, I will make them to come and worship before thy feet, and to know that I have loved thee.

This is what all of Esau's children fear. It's why the bland, colored people of the world are flipping over the Earth's axis, and killing us without any probable cause. They are a lawless people who've displayed their lack of empathy, and humanity for anyone save their own breed, they behave like blood hounds. I've become content with this planet being void of water (Holy Spirit.) Black people suffer from a social disorder called the crab bucket mentality. We hate to see anyone rise up, and we’ll do whatever it takes to keep them down or discourage them. That person may possess something that can benefit the collective, who cares. He who possesses that blessing needs to haul tail ASAP before the winter comes knowing the Father will bless him, and a downtrodden people beyond their wildest dreams. This is why Yeshua, and His Father call us children. It's why I pray, and bemoan to the Father daily that He slays me, putting the fear of the Lord in the heathen and His Son Christ Jesus uses us for His purpose. God doesn't need us, we need Him. He's given us so much power, and authority. When you acquire it, use it for something other than satisfying your sinful, carnal, flesh minded desires. Men, don't behave like horn dogs, and women do not behave as Aholah, and Aholibah, 2 whores.

Numbers 32:24

24 Build you cities for your little ones, and folds for your sheep; and do that which hath proceeded out of your mouth.

Out of thine own mouth you have power to tread over snakes and scorpions. You can exorcise demons and devils out of your present life braking generational curses which is what I' want for a family that's disowned me. To God be the glory. God is telling us to declare a thing, and claim it. What a mighty, just God we serve. Your tongue will become a weapon to use against the lawless ones who use theirs recklessly in their attempts to get us arrested or murdered by local, and federal authorities. You can call it giving them a taste of their own medicine, it isn't. You're reclaiming what they've taken, stolen, including those of us they've murdered.

Isaiah 54:17

17 No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, and their righteousness is of me, saith the Lord.

The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly. Speak positive prayers out loud if you can. If you live with your family or have a roommate pray in the closet. You'll have favor with God that many people won't. They rebuked the Lord, and their anger did tear perpetually, and they kept their wrath forever. When they use their privilege, which is what we call it more often than they, comprehending they’re fully aware knowing they use it with a Demonic, driven hatred. They persecute Black men, women, and children for reasons that are not godly, and the Father does not condone. They, and all the Earth will have to answer for our individual sins against the Father in the end.

Luke 10:19

19 Behold, I give unto you power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy: and nothing shall by any means hurt you.

We don’t worship the same god as they do. They're praying to a god to erase us off the face of the Earth. Why hasn't he?.

Exodus 1:12

12 But the more they afflicted them, the more they multiplied and grew. And they were grieved because of the children of Israel.

Their birth rate is dropping steadily. For the first time in the history of the census they decreased in population globally while indigenous, and other races of people stayed steady or in our case increased. This is the reasoning behind these draconian abortion laws. They're trying to preserve themselves while God is eliminating the Earth of their bloody dominion. God is sending the wicked a message before the storm comes, but no one's listening. Their violence towards us is documented, and more often it's unprovoked. They continue with the guilty until proven worthy of their mercy dogmatic mantra which is racist BS. The Earth will be lulled back to sleep. When they're confident that their world isn't in danger of being challenged by anyone, especially us. That's when God will do things that will scare them right back to the caucasus mountains bringing destruction to those who've touched, bruised, and abused the Apple of His eye. Speak life into your angel spirit, don’t entertain the demon seed that's trying to kill you, and the rest of Earth's indigenous people. You have much authority, use it. Elohim. 9/23/2021

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Zanzibar Marketplace Job

leverage 2.12

Hardison: Two weeks in Tokyo. We'd have a great time.

Parker: What are we stealing?

Hardison: We don't steal anything. We'd be tourists.

Parker: Not following you

hardison: BE DOMESTIC WITH ME PLS

- - - - -

Waitress (puts down beer): There you go.

Eliot: Ahh. Thank you, sweetheart.

Waitress: Anytime.

(Nate kicks Eliot under the table)

Eliot: What? Really? What, I can't have a friend?

Nate: Join a softball team

me whenever eliot flirts with someone other than parker or hardison

- - - - -

Tara: You know he's drinking again.

Eliot: I'm not an idiot, Tara.

Tara: I was told this was a problem.

Eliot: The drinking is not a problem. It's a symptom

this!!!

also eliot’s hair braids are adorable

- - - - -

(Sterling walks into the bar behind Eliot, approaches table)

Nate: Eliot, I'm gonna ask you not to do anything violent.

Eliot: What? What are you talking about? I only use violence As a - as a - as an appropriate response.

Sterling: Hello, Nate.

(Eliot’s face turns murderous and he turns to punch Sterling in the face, then proceeds to throw him down on a table and continue punching him. The bartender moves to call the police, but Hardison stops him by passing him money, Parker watches enthusiastically)

Tara: And this is?

Nate: James sterling. We used to work together. Insurance.

Tara: He seems to rub Eliot the wrong way.

Nate: You think?

(Nate walks over to where Eliot is still beating Sterling, and now has him by the throat)

parker and hardison literally have heart eyes for eliot in this scene ??? ot3 ???

hardison bribing the bartender not to call the police? parker watching like she’s being turned on or something? eliot’s face right before he hears sterling’s voice? sterling hitting eliot with a stick? CHAOTIC

- - - - -

Tara: Okay. Is there any chance she took the egg?

Parker: No. Maggie's the most honest person we know. But besides that, she's okay.

parker adores maggie

- - - - -

Sterling: You live and work here?

Nate: Yeah.

Sterling: I like the old place better.

Hardison: Do not mention the old offices.

people that have no rights: sterling

- - - - -

they had a legit P I L E of passports ready ??? SO MANY

- - - - -

Tara: Okay, you cannot out-bureaucrat a former Soviet Union bureaucrat. These guys gamed the most corrupt system on earth for 50 years. Paperwork's not gonna cut it. They're used to trading favors, not forms.

- - - - -

Nate: I just need some proof.

Parker: It was an inside job. Average keypad hack time is 1 minute, 9.3 seconds. Inner door access card takes at least 30 seconds for anybody but Hardison, and then the vault was an old Mark II Remington. In and out average - 7 minutes, 40 seconds. But these thieves, they did it in 5 minutes, 12 seconds. Maggie had the best access, so the real thieves only had to get her codes and badge. Yeah, only way they could pull it off that fast.

Sterling: How long has she been sitting..

sterling being utterly BAFFLED by parker is my aesthetic

+ she’s wearing a leather jacket AND a cute red flannel,,, the bi energy is strong

- - - - -

Parker: It's your first time being a fugitive, so I made you a bag..

Maggie: Thank you, Parker. It's not that I don't appreciate getting out of jail, I just can't live my life a fugitive.

Nate: But you're not a fugitive.

Parker: Passports, money, lock picks.

Nate: You were released, not broken out.

Parker: Toothpaste, explosives. Do not mix these up.

Maggie: Thank you, Parker.

+

Parker: This looks like gum. Not gum. Diamond-edged file blade.

Nate: Yeah, yeah. That's great.

Parker: She needs this stuff.

maggie is such a Mom™ rolling with parker’s antics and we love her for that

also PARKER IS TRYING SO HARD TO BE NICE BECAUSE SHE LIKES AND CARES ABOUT MAGGIE AND WE LOVE TO SEE IT

- - - - -

Parker: So, I took your advice and did the whole touristy thing. Went to the museum, and it was amazing.

Hardison: You see?

Parker: Yeah. They have a guardian T-840 security system. I've only seen those things in books. And the motion detectors - ooh, gorgeous! Six digital receptors. Six!

Hardison: What about the paintings?

Parker: What about the paintings?

she reads about security systems in books? omg I love it

- - - - -

Parker: We meet on internet.

hi I’m sorry but the way she said it was hilarious

- - - - -

Hardison: Alexander's got a travel visa to the United Arab Emirates. He's also setting up accounts in the Caymans, Macau, and Switzerland.

Nate: Yes, countries with no extradition treaty, tax havens

- - - - -

Tara: I got this one.

Eliot: Really? What are you gonna say to him? 'cause we got no cover story. We got no background on this cat.

Tara: Okay. That's it, then. I won't say anything. Really. Not one word. Just when he turns around and looks at you, do that thing with your eyes that scares people.

Eliot: I don't... know what you're talking about.

Tara: Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about.

Eliot: Pffff.

(Tara sits down next to Chernov and grabs his lunch, taking a bite)

Chernov: What the... Who the hell are you? Do I know you? Did Samuels send you?

(Tara moves a little, still chewing Chernov’s lunch)

Chernov: I paid them off. I took care of it.

(Tara looks over her shoulder at Eliot, who is scowling)

Chernov: Oh, god. Please. Is this about the item?

(Tara throws up her hands)

Chernov: I didn't know. No one told me.

(Tara checks her watch and stands up)

Chernov: Wait! Here. This is all I have. (hands her envelope) I'll back out. I'm sorry.

(Tara gives Chernov back his lunch)

Chernov: Sorry! (walks away)

Tara (rejoins Eliot and gives him the envelope): What we imagine is always so much better than the reality.

Eliot: Like love?

this whole scene was iconic

- - - - -

Sophie: Well, the prospective buyers are invited by their black-market contacts. They show up, they verify the merchandise, and they make a sealed bid. Hey, um, shine an ultraviolet light on that card.

(Hardison pulls a light from a bag and shines in on the card)

Eliot: Seriously? You have one just laying around?

he had one on his keychain in The Ice Man Job and boy do I love continuity

- - - - -

Tara: Parker, double reverse on three.

(Tara places envelope on tray, Parker takes envelope and passes it to Eliot)

we LIVE for smooth hand-offs

+ eliot did the flip thing with the envelope

- - - - -

Sterling: You're welcome. I don't know how you people ever manage – (flinches at feedback on com)

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Oh, I'm sorry, man. That just happens sometimes with the ear buds - You know, feedback.

[Embassy Hallway]

Sterling: As I was saying, the method - (flinches at feedback on com)

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Sorry.

[Embassy Hallway]

Sterling: This isn't gonna stop until I - (flinches at feedback on com)

[Interior Van]

Hardison: Stop talking. Shh. Please

PARKER’S SMILE AT HARDISON FUCKING WITH STERLING? AMAZING

- - - - -

parker is wearing a flannel now :)

+ the leather jacket she wears over it a little later

- - - - -

(Sterling pulls phone from his pocket)

Eliot: What are you doing?

Sterling (dialing): Calling the police. They don't get to dictate to -

Eliot (grabs phone): We're not calling the cops. Two hostages means they can kill one to make a point. (throws phone down on table) All right, listen. There's three types of calls we can get next. One - amateur. Cash and a dump site. Number two - professional. That's wire transfers and multiple-location drop-offs. (glances at Sterling) And three - targeted.

Hardison: Targeted toward us?

Eliot: No. Towards a specific ransom demand - Not cash. (looks at Faberge Egg case)

Sterling: You're not risking a $9 million artifact...

Eliot: It might be the only chance.

Sterling: ...on a hunch! Let me run this. We track the calls, find out whoever it is, have the police surround -

Eliot (walks around table to stand with team): Sterling, I'm the retrieval specialist. That's my job.

Sterling: Your friends' lives hang in the balance, and you're gonna take your cues off a punch-up artist instead of me? (closes case and takes phone from table) Call me when you need me. 'cause you will need me. (leaves with case)

eliot being the focused, determined retrieval specialist that’s hell bent on getting everyone back safe? we love to see it

+ parker, hardison, and tara having 100% faith in him standing beside him

- - - - -

Eliot: He's angry. We took his payday. (phone rings) All right, all right. (pulls phone toward him and hits button for intercom) Go.

Distorted Voice: If you follow our instructions, your friends will be returned unharmed.

Eliot: We agree. Tell us what you want.

Distorted Voice: You owe me

(Hardison uses computer to remove distortion)

Alex: $9 million.

Hardison: It's Alex. It's Alexander.

[Embassy Hallway]

Alex: I still have a buyer for the egg. Return it, and I return your friends.

[I.Y.S. Insurance Offices]

Eliot: I want proof of life now.

Alex: Agreed

it’s cool to see how Retrieval Specialist™ eliot spencer actually works

- - - - -

Nate: Yeah. Yeah, I was lying to you for your own good.

Maggie: Quick little hint for your next marriage - that excuse does not fly with any woman on earth.

Nate: Oh, go- next marriage? That's really nice to say.

Maggie (hitting Nate with spray can): You know what? I've heard that one before.

Nate: Heard what before? What are you talking about?

Sam: Are you actually having this argument now?!

Nate: She started it.

Maggie: He started it

chaotic ex spouses

- - - - -

Eliot: Listen, listen - we know who's behind this, all right? We know what they want. We have the upper hand here. We do.

COMPETENCY!!! HE KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT HES TALKING ABOUT AND WE LOVE TO SEE IT

- - - - -

they made a taser out of two ends of a live wire and a flamethrower with a match and an aerosol I love it

- - - - -

Sam: Give me that. The thing everyone screws up when they fake their own death - no body. Well, that can work, but it leaves no suspect for the police to chase.

Alex: You won't get away with this.

Sam: No, you will. Of course, I've left an evidence trail a mile wide, Visa applications, accounts in offshore banks.

Alex: You were my friend!

Sam: I was your employee. And thanks to your screw-ups, I was an employee with no pension, no savings, no nothing. That was really, really unacceptable to me.

Nate: Well, it's a good plan. What? I- I - listen, I spent 20 years chasing, you know, guys that faked their own death. I mean, this one - it's pretty well thought-out.

Sam: Exactly. Alexander Lundy, desperate for cash, turns to violence. And his poor assistant, Sam, loyal to the last, caught in the cross fire at a ransom drop gone bad.

that’s actually really smart

- - - - -

eliot’s sly grin right before the flashback revealing how they got away with it

- - - - -

(Alex vomiting into a barrel)

Parker (handing him a cloth): It's okay. First bomb's always the hardest (cringes)

- - - - -

Eliot: Was it because they wanted us to hear Sam's performance? It's 101, man. After that, (looks hardison up and down) you don't have to be a rocket scientist to figure it out.

Maggie: You know, people underestimate you, Eliot.

Nate: That's kind of the point

HE CONSIDERES HARDISON TO BE AKIN TO A ROCKET SCIENTIST

- - - - -

Reporter (on television): And that's not all. Today, based on his work recovering the priceless artifact, James Sterling was invited to join Interpol. He's a real-life Sherlock Holmes.

Parker: Interpol? Seriously?

Hardison: Sterling's career gets another boost off of our hard work.

Tara: We didn't even get paid.

Hardison: Nope.

Tara: I hate this guy.

Eliot (taps his beer bottle on Tara's): Now you're part of the team. (walks away)

THAT is what it takes lmfao

also eliot was wearing a flannel in that scene