#golden bastard my beloved

[fandompuppet]

Finally finished drawing oliver

[jellykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Jinwoo Drabbles ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 028 ✦ ┆・

‼️[ TW: Implied Yandere Jinwoo, suggestive end <3]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Jealous. Jealous Jealous. ] ¡! ❞

What kind of rage is more terrifying than one that is being displayed in the open like a volcanic eruption? 

The type that is silent.

The kind of rage akin to that of a blazing flame that sits beneath calm serene water free of ripples. The kind of fury hidden inside a doll that has been abused and thrown by its own, developing a curse within it’s porcelain glass that is pristine and free of cracks

That was the kind of rage Jinwoo holds beneath his expressionless exterior.

Though his empty grey orbs displayed nothing, there was an undesirable wish to set everything ablaze. To bathe this glorious ballroom in brilliant dancing embers.

Oh but he had to hold back. 

He has to.

After all, his beloved is currently attending as a plus-one in this small gathering of hunters and celebrities alike are present. Jinwoo never really thought much of it, he invited you since for one; you are his lover. Two; he wanted to show you off to the world.

Sure, you could say that he’s doing that just to prove to everyone that he loves you more than anything or to perhaps end the rumours that he is secretly dating famous actresses or some rich girl or someone else. But all those things came in second really. His real priority was to see you dressed up pretty.

Of course, you’re always been pretty in Jinwoo’s eyes. Your figure dressed in an outfit that accentuates your beautiful body. Meek but elegant jewellery on your ears and most importantly— Your pretty face gleaming underneath the brilliant lights in this ballroom. The golden glow on your face just made you more endearing.

You are the apple of Jinwoo’s eyes.

But ah… You two aren’t alone in this little gathering.

People kept approaching you. At first, it was merely small talk and greetings. Nothing really wrong with that. But Jinwoo was perceptive. Too perceptive.

He knew how men do their things, he isn’t that stupid since he is one himself.

He could see the way those grimy bastards flashed you their charming smiles. How their hands were twitching to rub their digits over your skin that only he is allowed to ever touch.

Ah… Jinwoo could feel his head about to burst the more he watches the men flock over you for your favour.

He tried to stay calm really, but the more the seconds ticked by, the more he watched them try to woo you over— He wanted to call over his children and maul them over to death.

Jinwoo stayed in his spot, with hazy grey orbs so far gone in the stirring rage brewing within his stiff body.

The moment he spots someone about to land a palm on your lovely waist— Jinwoo charges forward and stops the hand. His hazy grey orbs now glowing with a terrifying hue of purple.

“Well aren’t you having a good time?” Jinwoo says with his low voice, warning and daring the bastard to do something. 

The man stiffened, paling at the up-close sight of the shadow monarch that is craving to put an end to his life right then and there. Jinwoo has the look that could kill, even his eyes can be enough to put your 6-feet under.

As Jinwoo roughly let go of the man’s hand before wiping his palms and then extending it towards you. 

Of course, you obediently take his palm. The moment he felt your skin, Jinwoo flicked his head to the host and said; “It’s late, my lover is not a fan of staying up late at night. We’ll be on our way now”

Without even batting an eye back to the crowd that froze due to his ministrations.

Jinwoo would have been calm when you both arrived home. But you kept talking about the famous celebrities who  were polite to you. The way you smiled was endearing but irritating at the same time because someone else is causing you to make such a pretty expression.

You didn’t even stop even as you both arrived in your bedroom. 

Eventually, Jinwoo would lose his patience and there would be a visible shift in his eyes.

Eyes had always been mirrors to the soul, and Jinwoo for one— Had especially expressive ones. His blank face may be devoid of anything but his eyes would always manage to show what he really feels.

The way his grey orbs are sweeping over you right now, it was dominating. It was as if Jinwoo was holding back a destructive dam, threatening to swallow him whole and then bursting.

“So, you find that Mr. Cheong is charming?” Jinwoo cocks up an eyebrow, putting one step in front of the other— Causing you to step back with the sudden overwhelming feel of Jinwoo’s shift in his demeanour. “You seem so entranced by his gentle and witty personality, in contrast to me, who is gloomy and awkward.”

You end up stumbling backwards, sitting down on the chair behind you and Jinwoo leaned forward, his hands resting on either side of the armchairs— Caging you down as he cocks up an eyebrow, teasing you to answer him.

“Hm?” Jinwoo muses, lifting his hand out to touch your hand— Making you all the more flustered and confused at his actions. “Maybe I should start reminding you some stuff, baby. Your memory has gotten a bit… Foggy.”

He mumbles, lifting your hand up to his lips and kissing your palm, then your knuckles, then to each digit before his gaze swept up to you again. Those intense, grey eyes, boring into your very soul— Piercing every cell in your very being. It was hypnotising, as if you were a snake being seduced by the sounds of a wind instrument.

The way he was hovering above your head, those ebony black locks of his falling forward as he hovered right above you— You could feel tingles starting from the very soles of your feet rising to your very heart that was already thumping so madly.

Oh you knew, you knew,.. you’re in for one hell of a marathon with the monarch.

“I won’t promise I’ll be gentle, and neither will I promise this punishment will only take one night”

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[qxuiara]

My honest reaction

LonganPearl propaganda is real /j /silly

I love Ur shadow milk X aquamarine Art so much they r very cute ❣️♥️

Are there Any other ships that U like? (srry if this sounds 2 much but just curious U dont have to answr)

Ouhhh thank you ,,!! I love shadowmarine can you tell.

There's no ship I'm nearly as insane about but I do have a bunch I like too. Gonna keep this short! Or at least try to.

There's PureLily. Practically canon and I think they're reallyyyyy cute. What do you mean to tell me they were friends since school and then WL turned evil but then turned out to not be evil and they can have their happy ending.!

Another one with White Lily is ElderLily. I don't even know how to explain this one they just have romantic tension for some reason 💔 I think in the short time they were together they were pinning for each other but never revealed it because they both knew White Lily will leave eventually. Though if I had to choose I'd still pick PureLily.

I used to ship Espresseleine a bunch but as time passed I started to see them more as close friends than a couple. I like it, I have no problems with it, I just? Don't really ship them myself anymore.

HollyTaya is cute,,,, wym Hollyberry wooed a dragon. What kind of rizz does she have...! I need it...! /SILLY they fight everyday except it's not the toxic kind of fight they literally clash weapons ❤️ and they have fun

GoldenBerry (Idk the proper ship name but it's Golden Cheese X Hollyberry). Seeing as they were travelling together before the ancients fully met up they probably have some history together . Ehee... It's cute you don't get to judge me. YURI!!!!!

Looks at the gun being pointed at me) LonganPearl is really cool too /SILLY I really do like them. I blame @qxuiara they've infected me with the plague

[nemesis-writer]

[Unwanted Ransom (Chapter 1)]

What was I made for?

TW: Mentions of Death, PTSD, ED, SH, Neglect

Masterlist

🎵Thumbs- Sabrina Carpenter🎵 🎵What was I made for?- Billie Ellish🎵

On my first day of staying here, I was excited to see if I had brothers.

Dick the oldest, supposed to be there for me, and pose as a role model right? WRONG, he instead leaves me on read when I text him. The fucker has enough guts to ignore me, and when he notices me, it's when I either get in trouble at school, or when his teamates talk to me. He had time to look after Bludhaven.

Tim, one of the family's detectives, doesn't find me interesting, and thinks of himself too big to talk to a lowlife like me. AND WE LIVE IN THE SAME FUCKING HOUSE FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. With him, I have little to no memories. All he does is twiddle his thumbs, pretending I wasn't there.

Cass, Steph, Barb. I never really cared bout' them, all they do is talk shit about others, and play daddy's little girl. I was never daddy's little girl and I never complained. Not much to really talk about with them, I even learned ASL just for some light communication.

Jason, alright, I'mma be honest here. He was the closest thing I had to a brother, but he only came to the house at night for some food and rest. The best memory with him, was him taking me to school on the first day, I joined grade 5 class because I have an IQ of 190. Everything was great until he died, a part of me died with him.

Damian, the "golden apple" of this whole shit hole. This bitch thinks that he can do anything, because he is the bastard of Bruce Wayne, and Talia Al Ghul. He gets to train with Dick, while I watch them train to become a "hero". He bullied me even when I was a year older than him. Ughh, what a bitch. He was the reason I got the name Jinx, I was the bad luck of the family

Bruce, the man had the guts to adopt me and change my true name to a wayne. I was named Xerxes because it meant warrior, my dad never thought I was one. I'm not even allowed to call him dad.

Alfred, oh sweet innocent Alfred. I considered him as my father when my mother's "sperm donor", couldn't be there for me. He was there to teach me how to bake and cook, the best part was that he never admonished me for my bad behavior at school.

For 4 years I had lived with them, every night I had prayed for a miracle to happen. At night the same dream, every morning, the same nightmare. After the first 5 months of my stay, I started to avoid eating, because of depression.

And before I go to bed I looked for any blade I could, and locked myself in my bedrooom. I cut myself below the wrist, while keeping a first aid nearby. I never felt any pain from the wounds, but I felt the scar in my heart.

It's ironic how a whore with nothing, could love a child more, than a family that has everything. I always laughed at the idea, I never allowed myself to cry or show weakness. Bruce never knew how to deal with emotions anyway, so why cry?

I never cried, when Damian slashed my arm with a knife. Not when Barbara told me to go to hell, not when Tim destroyed the birthday present I made for him. And especially when Bruce called me a mistake. I only cried when Jason was murdered by the Joker.

I always thought crying was useless, so I worked hard. I got straight A's, I made friends, I enlisted for multiple sports when I turned 10. I even took up art just for the sake of fitting in.

But I will always be the Wayne pushed from the spotlight. Not even then, could I cry.

I just went to my dilapidated bedroom, God, it was ornamented with all of my awards and certificates. I started to pack my stuff, I even took the photo of me and my mother. There wasn't much to pack, all I got were hand me downs, and the dregs of my "beloved siblings."

At night, it was the perfect time to escape, with the villains on the loose, they had to take night shifts. So I slowly climbed out of my window and placed the note I had prepared for Alfred. And I prepared to go to the abyss that awaits me...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N Hiii... I got this idea from reading @acid-ixx, and @luludeluluramblings... I'm making a seperate part for the note Jennifer gave Alfred. HOPE U LUV THIS <333

[justpoliteconversations]

Fool's Bet [Hyrule + Reader]

You made a bet you shouldn't have. And almost lost.

Just something to share while my brain fizzes for while on the rediscovered trash heap. This is pretty rough, but I'll take some time later to edit it.

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to disclose. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.

---

It was those eyes. That damned honey sweet gaze shimmering under thick, dark lashes and lighting up the delicate constellation of freckles dusting tanned cheeks beneath. It was the glossy tears (fat and shiny and fake as hell, but so damned pretty against the wide round of his dark eyes) rimming those lashes like a string of pearls.

It was the way earthy brown rings melted into golden specks of starlight peeking through the warm swirl of honey and chocolate. How light and shadows intermixed and brought forth an innocent (deceitful) glimmer of pleading. Like fairy chimes in the night. Soft as a whisper, sweet as peach flesh.

Dangerous. Tempting. (Chime.)

Trusted.

"Please." Hyrule pleaded (whispered? chimed?), those bewitching (enchanting) eyes locked on yours. Brows softened and pulled just so into an expression so beguiling, so ingenuous, it pulled a sweat to your own (manipulative, pointy-eared little bastard. damn fairy-borne liar and trickster). "I made it for you!" (Chime.)

You hesitated (a mistake. a death sentence).

Behind you War's quiet curse felt like tiny fairies' feet dancing upon your grave. Sky's mumbled prayer the solemn temple bell tolling over the final, sacred grounds at dusk.

Time gazed upon you with pity. And glee. The light of mischief shining in his hooded eye like moonlight on still water.

(Fairy boy, indeed. May cuccos sully your boots next you rest, farmer boy.)

Hyrule smiled softly then. Lower lip wobbling, the tip of his nose and curved sharp of his cheekbones flushed pink. Ears pinned tight against his thick, dark curls. Beautiful little waves that fluttered in the wind and curled softly against his face and delicate neck.

(The very picture of harmless vulnerability.)

(The perfect little mask. Hiding a gleeful little smile caged around a fae giggle.)

(Chime.)

Your heart thundered at the sight of it, and you swallowed thickly around the knot pulsing in the tender flesh of your throat. Your wide, searching eyes scanning, pleading, begging.

Eyes glanced away from yours in shame (Twilight having to step away entirely, lest he be drawn into a battle he has no chance of escaping unscaved. so moved to compassion as he is by your plight). Though some meet yours with amusement (may your pantless legs be besieged by ticks, bunny boy. And your beloved winds blow seagull shit into your hair, sailor).

(Chime.)

Warm (uncomfortably so. like sitting too close to an open flame), callous-roughened fingers touch the sensitive skin on the back of your hand, drawing you out of your internal cursing (and panic). And from one breath to the next, your lock eyes with the man (fae-borne. liar. trickster. trusted. enchanting) once more and your fall back down into the depths of an emotional whirlwind.

The gleam of honey and gold and enchanting (bewitching) (chime) light swirl in the melting warmth of brown. Dazzling and beloved.

Something is put in your hands. Warm (too warm) fingers wrap around yours.

(What is that?) (Chime.)

"It's good." Hyrule says (whispers? echoes? chimes?) reassuringly, brows still so pleading and eyes so sad. So sad. So sad.

White, straight bones caged by slips of pink, curled flesh. Gold and honey and-

Your hands are moving. Your eyes have not (cannot) break away.

"You can do it." Hyrule encourages (whispers? echoes? chimes?), his hands on yours. Moving. Guiding. (Chiming. Chiming. Commanding.)

A gasp. Someone has to support Sky as he goes feint. Legend's eyes are wide and intently focused. Bright, bright blue and fixated on the atrocity (and curiosity) being committed in front of him.

It's lost to you.

Your mouth opens. The gold is so strong now. Stronger than the honey. The brown. The light.

Stronger than you.

(You're salivating like a dog.)

"What in the Goddess' name are you doing?" Four was suddenly there (where did he come from?), his hand snatching your closed(?) fist away from your face (when had it gotten there?). His expression twisted in some unreadable combination of amusement and frustration. "Hylia give me the strength to deal with these fools."

The gold vanished. Hyrule's eyes dimmed to dark, honey brown. Expression relaxing into a small, embarrassed and natural grin (bright and warm as sunshine. nothing like the intoxicating honey sweet of before). "Don't be mad, Four! They bet me 50 rupees I couldn't charm them into eating my rations!" Four made a face that clearly expressed how much he didn't approve of such an idiotic wager.

None of that mattered to you though. Because you were free once more. Of body and of mind.

And you were holding to most putrid slab of meat you (and probably any of the chain besides Hyrule) had ever come across. The congealed grease of the half dried meat ribbons oozing between your fingers and weaving cold, shinning paths of pinkish-orange gelatin down your wrists and one unfortunate elbow.

On your bottom lip. Something cool dripped down your chin. Down your neck. Pooled at you collarbones.

Twilight, keeping his distance (from the horrendous stretch more than anything) but with eyes full of concern, cast you a pitying glance. "You okay there?"

Eight pairs of eyes found you. Just in time to watch you empty your stomach contents all over your grease streaked hands and boots.

Unsurprisingly, Hyrule was the only one who was surprised by this sudden turn of events. "The Meat!"

And somewhere in the forest, leaning over a freshly hunted buck, Wild's hand twitched with the unexplainable impulse to pinch Hyrule right on the ear. Hard.

---

Time to rest now.

[umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken]

Neslin AU idea -> A ballad of beasts

AU where Tamlin, unwilling to deal with his brothers' power struggle for the High Lord title after their father's death goes FUCK NO, and legs it for the mortal realm.

He eventually finds refuge in a little, faraway village called Carterhaugh. But even though he's fae, he has no idea how shit works in the mortal realm, and he needs a safe place to stay.

BUT, he can't just saunter into the place and be like 'please will you let me into your house and give me a safe place to stay??'

That goes against all the fae rules, sanctuary must be given freely of a mortal's own choice and mind, no asking allowed.

SO

He transforms himself into a cat and wanders around until he comes across Nesta; the prickliest woman of the village, who couldn't give less of a shit about other people, but who is instantly besotted by the bedraggled and clearly malnourished cat that's mewling pathetically at her village bookshop door.

<><><>

"Oh, you poor thing," she cooed, gathering up the golden cat into her arms and scratching it under the chin.

It purred happily, and she immediately made for her small cottage at the edge of town.

"You must be hungry, don't fret little one, I'll look after you."

<><><>

She takes him home and gives cat-lin a bath and feeds him, and everything, but Tam starts feeling guilty so he poofs back into his fae male form and Nesta rightfully freaks out, screaming at him to get out of her house but eventually she listens to his story

High Lord powers -> WILL be killed by brothers

Nesta's still kinda eh,

So Tam just PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE's and Nesta is eventually just like 'jesus fucking hell, fine, but i'm gonna make you do unpaid labour in the bookshop if you're gonna stay.'

So that's how life is for a while, they grow closer, and eventually Nesta tells him her story.

Years and years ago, her sisters were out playing in the woods near their home, and she was tasked by her mother with looking after them. But then as she was watching them, a thick wreath of shadow just... gathered them up and disappeared them from sight. They were never seen again, and Nesta's mother had hated her for it until her death, and Nesta has spent every day since then hating herself for it.

<><><>

"I- I tried," her throat bobbed, eyes going distant and hazy.

"I tried to go back for them, I took my winter cloak and walked to the wall to bring them back home."

A tear slid down her cheek, "I failed."

<><><>

Tamlin immediately goes sHaDowS? kidnapping? that fukcing bastard Rhysand -> Shit, I'm pretty sure I know where your sisters are -> cue trip across the faery world to find Feyre + Elain

SO, they finally trek to the wall, trek across the courts, end up in Night, and Tamlin + Rhysand confront each other (bitter ex lovers energy, obv)

<><><>

EXTRA BACKGROUND

Tamlin's father dies of illness or smth and his two older brothers fight to the death for the High Lord title, cept the winner almost forgot about Tamlin until the magic fails to go to him and he's like 'fuck', forgot to kill the other one, so he goes after Tamlin. BUT he makes the fatal mistake of asking Amarantha for help, and she's like, oh, you're trying to kill my beloved??! UNO reverse, fucker.

DEAD.

So now she's taken over the Spring Court and still trying to find Tamlin to make him her 'mate' and become High Lord/ Lady of Spring

BUT fae magic can't be sensed in the mortal realm, so she's just kind of been wasting time being a shitty ruler.

ALSO

Turns out Rhysand has only been taking young girls from the mortal realm to keep Amarantha happy-> she sacrifices them for her magic rituals, or if she likes them enough, keeps them as serving girls/ maids, and she'd originally wanted RHYSAND'S SISTER as her companion, so he was doing it for family. doesn't make it any better, but yeah

<><><>

"But if however, I were to present you to her... I am sure her appetites would be satiated for quite some time." Rhysand's eyes glittered and Nesta's stomach roiled at the implication. Beside her, Tamlin only listened with a stony silence.

Don't. she begged. Don't you fucking dare leave me.

<><><>

Rhysand brings them both before Amarantha, who is instantly threatened by/ jealous of Nesta x Tamlin

So she proposes a bargain.

<><><>

"Is your love true, I wonder?" Amarantha's wicked fangs leered down at her.

Nesta fought to keep her voice even. "It is."

"Would you love him if he were a mere man?"

"I would."

"Would you love him if he had nothing?"

"I would."

"Ah, but would you love him if he were a beast?"

She turned to him then. To Tamlin. To the man that she had grown to love so purely and wholly. It was to him that she spoke her next words.

"Man or beast, I would love him with all my heart. Thorns and all."

<><><>

Thus begins the trial of beasts.

A blood red ribbon is used to bind Nesta and Tamlin by their wrists.

Amarantha uses Tamlin's shapeshifting powers against him and forces him to shift into beasts of all kind without any control over his body.

If Nesta can maintain her hold on him throughout his beastly transformations and endure the claws/ fangs/ gashes/ bites without cutting the ribbon, Amarantha will let them all go (Nesta, Tamlin, Feyre and Elain)

Nesta, being the bamf she is, completes the challenge.

Amarantha, pissed as hell thinking that Nesta wouldn't be able to do it, but unable to break her bargain without repercussions, has no choice but to let them go.

the end

or is it???

AMARANTHA LETS THEM GO, BUT NOWHERE DID SHE SAY SHE WOULDNT ATTACK THEM AFTERWARDS, SO THAT'S WHAT SHE DOES

she goes for Nesta, and THAT'S when Tamlin's High Lord power finally snaps into place, because it was dormant the entire time he was in the mortal realm and he goes full beast mode on Amarantha and murks her once and for all.

[milksnake-tea]

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: he'd wanted to at least see her one last time before his ascension, but it seems that even that is too much to ask of the harmony. ❀ ˎˊ- sunday character study ❀ ˎˊ- wc: 641 ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: set in 2.0-2.1, MAJOR ANGST WARNING, gorey language used like once but it's metaphorical ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: this is all vee and bells fault btw also this tweet that changed my brain chemistry now everyone has to suffer with me. if this had a title it would be "she used to be mine" but its too short so it won't :) ❀ ˎˊ- taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina , @tragedy-of-commons , @cakechase , @kiiyoooo ❀ ˎˊ- img credits

She’s gone.

And with her, goes every thought in his mind.

Ringing fills his ears. He can barely hear the voices of his attendant.

His lips move. What he says, he’s already forgotten.

His vision blurs. His eyes sting.

He sits. He stays. He stares.

She’s gone.

Robin’s gone.

The sweetheart of the cosmos, the idol beloved by all, the beacon of light in a night-filled sky-

His little sister is dead, and he wasn’t even there to stop it.

Muttered voices fade into a disorientated buzz that he can’t be bothered to decipher. Clicking of shoes, rustling of papers, all of it- it’s too much, it’s loud and it’s grating and-

Inhale.

Exhale.

Smile.

His cheeks hurt.

His nails bite into his palms. He wants to dig them into his face and tear off the skin and every horrid pretense he’s had to put up for the sake of this damned Family and that damningly weak Aeon who couldn’t even protect their most loyal acolyte.

And now, his sister is dead. Killed in her own home, in the domain of her god.

He’ll never see her again.

He’ll never see her smile, with the brightest lights and flames in her eyes as she sings on the grandest of stages.

He’ll never hear her laugh, with the voice blessed by the Harmony and the voice that had allowed him to continue fighting, even when he wanted to give up.

He’ll never hold her again, the sister who he had vowed to protect and had failed, not once, but twice now, and this time, his mistake, his carelessness was permanent.

Now, she is gone.

He asks his attendant to leave, as gently and as kindly as he can allow. He wants to scream. He wants to shout, he wants to cry, he wants to strangle and rip into whatever bastard dared to kill the only person he had ever loved, the only thing he had ever thought to be precious.

Was this some sort of punishment? For daring to question Xipe, or better yet, to question Ena? Was their devotion not strong enough? Was their actions not kind enough? Were they not enough?

Or were they simply just… insignificant, despite it all?

Then what was the point?

Despondently, his gaze raises from the cold wood of his desk.

Does Xipe even know?

Do they even care?

Something catches light in the corner of his eyes. There, in one of the many bookshelves in his office, a paperback spine stands apart from the rest. He knows it, bitterness and bile rising in his throat, he knows it better than anything.

He stands, and takes it from the shelf. He doesn’t open it.

The cover smiles up at him, the golden text taunting and mocking.

He grits his teeth.

A weak Path. A weak Aeon.

A weak brother.

He tears into the Odes of Harmony, ripping pages upon pages upon pages of lies, false vows, and cruel, cruel delusions. Inked words that had been ingrained into him since childhood are crushed under the sole of his shoe. The smiling face of a deceitful, lying Aeon is ripped into two.

His teeth tug at his lip. His chest constricts with the effort to keep his sobs down, to keep his eyes dry and to keep his grief and sorrow secret from the halls of Dewlight Pavilion. Every intake of air is a struggle in of itself, and it takes every bit of his strength not to break down and wail to the heavens to give his sister back.

It isn’t long before the Odes are reduced to nothing, and Sunday is left there, alone in his office with scattered pieces of paper littering his floor.

Xipe smiles up at him in two ripped halves of a page.

He hates how he sees Robin in Them.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[dcdreamblog]

Oh. ...Well now look what you bastards gone an di- *recieves email not long after seeing this pop up. Work email* WORK EMAIL FROM WHO NOW?!

Ok Sid don't panic. Don't panic. Don't PANIC. Whiiiiich one of you fuckers ratted me out?! Well I cut out the contact info in the attachment for obvious goddamn reasons but she did indeed give me the contact information of three (3) Golden Age folks who are still around and kicking and evidently each of them has consented to being down for an interview with me! And by extension you guys!

So, while I process this goddamn information I am going to do a quick rundown of who we've got. Please scroll all the way down so you can vote in the poll!!!

Uncle Sam: The spirit of 76 given flesh, Uncle Sam has been an active superhuman for nearly 300 years at this point. A leadership figure in the highly active Freedom Fighters through every one of its many rosters. Also a regular guest here and the museum and, as this last Christmas proved, someone who knows my @#$%& mailing address.

Molly Mayne-Scott AKA Harlequin I: A former supervillainess, responsible for many rounds of grand larceny and general mayhem, Mayne ended up reforming soon after she met Green Lantern Alan Scott. Once Scott's first marriage ended in tragedy, Mayne and Scott married where they have been for the past 60 years despite current revelations about Scott's past and personal life. She also spent time post war, after the JSA's disbandment as an FBI agent tracking down golden age supervillains who had escaped justice.

Airwave II: Son of the original Air Wave, this young and plucky member of the superhero community has been under the wing of names as diverse as Black Canary, Green Lantern and the Atom. Following in his father's footsteps he has become the beloved son of Dallas, Texas.

So these are your options, my friends. I have the contact information for any one of these three people, in my hands. In one week's time I will contact one of them to set up an interview with the questioned picked by you guys. All you have to do right now, this week, is make sure you VOTE as to who it shall be.

God speed and all but I need to go lie down.

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 19 . It’s Only Responsibility

a/n: omg my fav chapter is finally here. i was so giddy when writing this lol

tags: low-key yandere behavior from Cale, implied torture, if Cale says what he feels is irritability then it's irritability goddammit

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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Cale feels as though he can’t get a good grasp on his emotions these days. In particular, he feels as though he feels intense emotions when _____ is thrown into the mix.

Maybe it’s because he feels accountable as he willingly took in the healer.

He doesn’t know when it started, he only noticed he felt that when back at the Gyerre Territory. It was the afternoon after he had destroyed a human trafficker’s house, just before he talked with Antonio. Ron reported that he had finished investigating the Perduellios.

“Young master, this old man took a stroll there and I must say that it’s very filthy. It looks clean from a certain distance but there are rats everywhere once you look closely. No wonder healer-nim grew up with a weak body. Someone like them does not fit that place.”

The redhead didn’t say anything but the servant could tell his listening to every word. 

The young master’s eyes don’t lie after all. 

And right now those eyes are filled with anger. 

Unmeasurable Anger

To the point it made the servant do a double-take.

Despite Cale’s brewing anger he still does everything according to plan. He doesn’t let out a single ounce of that anger until later when his talking to Alberu.

“Your Highness, the future shining sun of the Roan Kingdom. No one is as bright as you. Just seeing your face, even through a communication device, brightens my night and brings me hope for tomorrow.”

“Just tell me what you want. Is it another golden plaque? But you still have some.”

“Not this time your highness.”

Alberu was taken aback at the serious expression on the redhead’s face.

“As you already know, the Perduellios were working with the Chryshis. I trust your highness to handle the Gyerres and the Chryshis. However…”

“You want to handle the Perduellios.”

“We really are alike your highness.”

Alberu already saw this coming so he instantly agreed.

“I’ll allow it on the condition that they must stay in Aunt Tasha’s dungeon. Speaking of Aunt Tasha, she said she also wants a piece.”

“Then I shall be generous enough to share.”

Cale himself isn’t sure how he had the time to meet that bastard family. Between the war against the Indomitable Alliance. Fighting Arm and the Empire, and teaching the nobles a lesson Cale still managed to find free time to visit the Perduellios.

Must be the power of unmeasurable anger.

“Beacrox, Raon prepare to move quietly tonight. We’ll be meeting Tasha.”

The two are confused as to why, but Cale did not explain. He doesn’t need to as they instantly understand after seeing who’s inside the cell they are visiting.

“Young master Cale shouldn’t _____-nim be here?”

Cale looked at Tasha as if she said the most outrageous thing ever. Meanwhile, in the background, Beacrox is preparing his tools as Raon supplies information as to what the healer went through.

“Why would they be here when I’m doing this to relieve stress? I’m here to act trash, that’s not something an unofficial holy maiden should see.”

The next morning Alberu regrets taking a peak before the cell was cleaned up. He doesn’t think he can light up any of his beloved candles for at least a week.

+~+~+~+~+~+

Succeeding that incident, the next time Cale was overtaken by his emotions was after Operation Reflection. Unlike the last time, Cale felt two conflicting emotions this time.

Skyrocketing Pride and Plumeting Disgust

_____ was a core player during the navy battle and that made the redhead proud. Of course, he was also proud of everyone else in their group.

…but perhaps his a bit more proud of the healer.

However, it was only because they had come a long way. As Cale’s responsibility, his proud that the healer is doing better under his guidance.

Nothing more, nothing less.

“Human, those useless noble bastards were also talking bad about our _____ when you left. Some of them even had the nerve to directly yell at them. I wanted to smack them, but you told me to not do anything to those people for now so I didn't."

But then Raon’s report came.

Pride had been washed over by disgust.

Good thing _____ had talked him out of doing anything rash.

“Cale it’s okay. People who only know how to leech off other people are not worth your time.”

Did he mention how proud he is of how far _____ has come? Because he really is.

However, rumours say that it was the night after that when Cale first ‘visited’ the Perduellios.

+~+~+~+~+~+

Cale’s next overwhelming emotion is something his already familiar with. He already felt it back when they were in the Whipper Kingdom.

In fact, he has already associated this feeling with the healer.

Heart Palpitating Distress

But this time it feels more intense. Cale feels as if his heart is going to crawl out of his chest and into his mouth.

Thump!!

Thump!!

The redhead had been acting as though nothing was wrong ever since they finished the battle at Castle Leona. Contrary to his calm exterior, the redhead is a mess on the inside.

A wound, a stab wound with a lot of blood gushing.

Just inches near _____ heart.

And Cale has a strong gut feeling that it was _____’s own doing.

Seeing the copious amount of blood they lost was already bad enough. Seeing the nasty wound itself when they had to change the bandages was worse.

Then as if that isn’t enough to send Cale into a coma, the healer had the audacity to stand up not even 12 hours after their injury.

It was at that moment the commander made a conscious choice of sticking the healer to him like velcro.

+~+~+~+~+~

Nowadays, Cale is not ping-ponging between his emotions like a madman. But he did notice that he tends to feel a particular emotion these days.

Jealo– Irritability

Cale isn’t sure why he feels irritated, but he does. He feels irritated as soon as _____ woke up and started talking to Bud.

What happened during the week he was gone that those two are all friendly now?

And what was that? Bud is going to teach _____ how to drink?

Not on Cale’s watch.

It’s one thing for him if _____ themself wants to try drinking, but he won’t let the healer be coerced by some fool.

“Ron, separate those two as much as possible. That drunkard is nothing but a nuisance to _____.”

For a moment Cale got the chills when he heard Ron chuckle. It doesn’t help that the kids are laughing too. Regardless, it looks like the servant will heed his request so he lets it be.

But his jea– irritability doesn’t end there.

The next victim of Cale’s so-called irritable mood was this poor servant in Mogoru.

When Cale got back to Mogoru he unfortunately had to leave _____ back in the castle. There are too many undercover missions they have to do. And while _____ is much better than Choi Han at undercover missions, that man is a lot of things but an actor is not one of them, Cale isn’t cruel enough to make them take on such a taxing mission after being sick.

So he leaves the healer in the Mogoru Castle with Rosalyn and the others. 

“Young master-nim what about assigning a dedicated servant for healer-nim?”

Was Rosalyn’s suggestion after Cale mentioned _____’s tendency to overwork themself.

It seemed like a good idea, therefore they arranged for the healer to have a servant. The servant’s job would consist of making sure the Medicus is eating and resting properly. That servant would also act as _____’s assistant, taking care of whatever the healer needs.

At that time, Cale was satisfied with that plan.

That satisfaction quickly changed when he visited Adin’s room, (well, it’s practically _____ and Cale’s room now) and saw how the healer kept calling the servant’s name. In the beginning, it was fine, Cale didn’t mind it. But then he noticed how _____ seems to call for that servant every 5 sentences they utter.

Honestly? Even Cale knows his acting irrationally this time.

Did he care though? Of course not. Since when did trash care for another person’s feelings?

So he stationed that servant far away.

“Raon make a call in the underground villa. I must talk to Hans”

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Ignoring Hannah’s snickering that turned into full-blown laughter, Cale called Hans over to assist the healer.

Because if the healer is going to rely on someone who’s not Cale, then it might as well be one of his people.

This one is a totally logical decision on Cale’s end. It’s not because of his jea– irritability.

It’s definitely just part of him being responsible over _____.

[isabeauwolf]

A late New Years Party with a Wolf, a Crow, a Stray Cat and a Hawk. @angelblueflame @wtf-ask-baddie-overhaul @number-2-hero-hawks RP

Mary had been cooking and baking up a storm in the kitchen for the last two days.

Why?

She wanted to have a late New Years party with her new family. Pops approval with a smile and no questions asked, however, it was trying to get her husband on board. He didn't see anything wrong with it. Pops would have hosted a party for all of the gang members who didn't have families or lovers to go back home to for the holidays.

A tradition Mary's mother had started when she was alive and hosted with Pops' Wife until their passing.

He was about to agree when she informed him that Dabi and Hawks invited themselves to the party.

The yakuza's golden eyes widen, then his jaw and gloved hands clenched. Dabi, he understood, the walking burn victim had been offered as a temp from The League instead of Himiko Toga. The bastard even dared challenge him for his wife's affection.

Now, this Winged Hero was sniffing around and strutting like he owned the place. Why were both of these other men trying to become mate candidates? He could provide, shelter, and protect her. She didn't need them!

It was bad enough that Dabi was growing closer to Eri, using the girl to get to Mary, knowing his wife adores the child as her own. Dammit, it was working!

He didn't need one of those Heroes diseased with Hero Syndrome making his nest in their home too.

Closing his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose through his black duster mask, took a deep breath and let it out. "Someone above or below is trying my patience." He bit out and opened his eyes. The tension leaving his body and shoulders as he meet his beloved mismatched gaze.

[fandompuppet]

Golden bastard (with and without the stupid doodle)

[snowfieldstories]

In Life and Death [Chapter 5]

Kim Dokja x Reader/Original female character

In Life and Death Masterlist

Warnings: violence and language

A/N: Enjoy this (mostly) silly break from the emotional rollercoaster with some fun movie scenes!

Summary:

In which a reader finds herself tossed into the pages of her favorite web novel after her untimely death. A novel of a novel within reality. It's a reader's dream, right? Well, this reader vows to bring the right epilogue to her beloved character, Kim Dokja. She will give him the happiest of endings. Or she will die trying.

⚠️MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ORV WEB NOVEL AND MANHWA!!!!⚠️

Episode IV. Chapter 5 — Motion Picture Soundtrack

[The constellation 'Abyssal Black Flame Dragon' finds this boring.]

"Oh you're bored?" I said venomously.

There was a sharp pain in my lower legs where I sat kneeling on the ground. I had continued to lay for a time, until my side buzzed from falling asleep in the position and I managed to shift upright.

"Are the others on their way?" I asked.

[The constellation 'Abyssal Black Flame Dragon' says that 'Kim Namwoon' is unable to help you right now.]

...Did I not ask about other people, too? I should have known it was pointless to get the Black Flame Dragon to care about the whereabouts of anyone but his own incarnation. I huffed.

Then froze.

A sound echoed down below. Footsteps on the linoleum. Voices.

"...sure it was here. Yeah. That's what they said."

"We just have to finish a few movies?"

"And take the cool shit from them."

It sounded like three, maybe four, people. Prophets, or prophet-associated. They talked a while longer and then the voices stopped. They must have entered a movie poster.

If they were starting on the first floor, then it wouldn't take them long to reach me. I couldn't quite remember which level I was on, but it was perhaps the third. They could be here within the hour if they were any good.

I strained against my bonds, but the rope wouldn't give. If only that bastard were a little stupider. I could have then used my fingers to form a blade of light.

In fact, I had to be careful. I felt my mana and stamina draining the more I fought against the rope. My knowledge of mythology wasn't detailed enough to know what sort of story it might be from, but no matter what, I couldn't afford to lose the strength to fight later.

There was someone I could ask for help. I wasn't supposed to at this point in the regression round, but I was in a bit of a pinch. "Mother?"

I waited. Silence.

I tried again, but there was no response. I didn't want to anger her by going against her wishes, so I held my tongue from saying anything further.

Ah, well, I suppose that if it came down to it, I could trap the prophet group without much effort. They probably had low-level skills and stats. I mused over whether to use thick, binding cuffs or a golden net to keep them at bay. Perhaps I could string them up by their toes from the banister.

The blue message caused me to perk up.

[The constellation 'Queen of the Darkest Spring' is mystified by your predicament.]

Persephone...wasn't watching me very closely, was she. I sighed. It must be awfully busy to rule Hell during an apocalypse.

I wasn't sure what to do about her sudden notice. As I was deciding, another constellation made themselves known.

[The constellation 'Secretive Plotter' wonders about your mother.]

"Oh."

[The constellation 'Secretive Plotter' says he didn't see any family in your memories during the phantom prison.]

"You were watching then?" The silent observer. It was certainly Yoo Joonghyuk's style, or in this case, the plotter.

[The constellation 'Secretive Plotter' asks if you are referring to your sponsor.]

Shit. Shit, that perceptive bastard. I wasn't supposed to draw attention to her, and Secretive Plotter had the driven curiosity of Yoo Joonghyuk—he wouldn't let this go easily if I revealed anything. I didn't know who or what exactly Mother was trying to avoid by keeping such a low profile, but alerting the plotter to her presence was surely a bad idea. I raised a cocky eyebrow.

"You don't know my mother? I guess your knowledge is pretty rubbish. Or maybe you're just slow," I felt a pressure grow in the air. "I was born a half-constellation."

There was a long pause.

[The constellation 'Secretive Plotter' affirms that the only "half" you are is a half-wit.]

"Gee thanks," I grumbled. The messages stopped after that.

I was rather satisfied at having successfully pissed off yet another Yoo Joonghyuk today. Even the noise of the reappearing prophet group couldn't dampen my spirits.

They argued in low, rough voices, but I couldn't make out their words. Then they vanished once more.

I took the silence to slip into my mind. There were some unknown variables that would come up soon enough, and the largest and most pressing was the fate of the Disaster of Hellfire egg. I needed to go up to the surface and ensure its capture by the prophets.

It was, perhaps, villainous to say I wanted the disaster to hatch early, but I couldn't afford for Dokja not to gain the 'King of No Killing' attribute. Capturing a different station would lead to too many unknown variables. My thoughts became stuck on the possibilities if he didn't get this chance at a resurrection safeguard, and each one ended in his early and permanent death. I force-activated 'Rationality' to control myself from such anxieties.

An hour later, I heard something that made my heart tug.

"...need to hurry. They might already be stuck on the rooftop."

Kim Dokja! I tried my best to yell for him, but the gag prevented my words from forming.

"Do you hear that?"

Their footsteps rushed up the stairs. Lee Jihye was first, and she gaped upon seeing me. Namwoon cried out my name when he saw the state I was in, and Gilyoung angrily exclaimed, "That sooty bastard!"

Dokja rushed up behind them and his eyes immediately snapped onto me in shock.

"Choi Yeona!" Jung Heewon was last to arrive. She shoved past Dokja on her way to me and removed my gag.

Dokja had gone eerily still.

"What is this?" Heewon's expression was painted in fury at the sight of my position.

"...Joonghyuk and I fought." I was a bit embarrassed to say it, because I had clearly lost. I shuffled and Gilyoung gasped as the light shined on me better; the bruise on my face must have purpled well-enough by now. A tremor seemed to go through Dokja's body. My stomach throbbed and I hunched over, wincing. "Can you untie me now?"

Heewon pulled out her rat-spine sword, shouting, "Hold on, did he touch you?!"

Gilyoung and Namwoon's mirrored expressions of horror were almost comical. "No—"

Before I could properly respond, Jihye scowled. "Unnie, Master is not that type of guy! He would never!"

"'Unnie?'" I was affronted. "You call her 'unnie' already? Why don't you call me that?"

Jihye's eyes went wide, as if caught stealing the last of my cookies. "Um, w—well—you see..."

"She said she's 'weak for cool unnies,'" said Dokja rather unhelpfully, his voice sounding odd. Of course he would throw her under the bus, she had spurned him as well. Jihye stammered even more.

I felt highly insulted. Namwoon came and cut the rope around me with his knife, and my brow furrowed as I rubbed the tender skin of my wrists.

Jihye avoided my eyes, looking guilty.

A hand stuck out in front of me and helped me to my feet. I met Dokja's complicated gaze before he looked down at my jaw, where there was undoubtedly a nasty bruise formed, and then the red welts on my wrist. His hand became rigid around mine. Then he quickly let go.

I picked up the scraps of rope. For something so adept at trapping, it looked terribly cheap, as if made from straw.

"'The futility of labor,'" Dokja said under his breath. "Star relic: Ocnus' Rope."

A futile labor. I now understood why my efforts only drained me the more I struggled.

[The exclusive skill 'Sacred Light' has been activated.]

I cupped my jaw and heard a collective "oooh" as my hand glowed gold. When I moved it away, Heewon spoke. "But it didn't disappear?"

"I can't heal. Only hasten the recovery time...stimulate the cells into repair...lessen pain..." I moved to soothe the other places that had taken a beating from Yoo Joonghyuk.

The longer I took, and the more I moved my palm around my body, the stonier Dokja's expression became. At the reminding ache in my sternum, I pressed my hand there and his face twisted into something dark before reverting back to that cold stiffness.

When I finished, I stepped back to lightly stretch. Laying on the floor in the same position for hours wasn't exactly comfortable. "Shall we pick a movie?"

"Are you sure you're okay, Yeona-noona?" Gilyoung's sweet, worried voice piped up.

I nodded, moving to smooth down his unruly hair with a smile. "We have to get through more movies before we can reach the theater master. And there's not much time to spare."

We browsed the movie posters, slashed and untouched alike. There were an unfortunate number of horror and thriller films on this floor, and we were all in mutual, unspoken agreement not to enter those. I dragged Namwoon and Jihye away from a superhero one where I knew the world was supposed to end at the hands of a mad titan; we already experienced a ruined world of our own.

In the back of the group, Dokja was unusually silent and seemed to have retreated into his own mind. It was probably best to let him be.

"This looks like a fun, family movie!" said Jihye, stopping suddenly.

It was a poster with a family of four on the cover, mostly all smiling. My forehead wrinkled. The other kids dashed forwards in excitement and the spotlight shone down on us.

Heewon looked up at the poster properly. "Oh, wait—!"

Then we were zapped inside.

MOVIE #1

I blinked until my vision returned.

"Camping?" said someone behind me.

I looked down at myself to find a pretty blue top and some khaki slacks, and reaching up I felt my hair swept in a neat updo. We were in a giant, camping RV, and I was up in the passenger seat.

"A family road trip?" I turned to Dokja next to me, sitting behind the steering wheel. His hair was slicked back in an attractive style. And that navy polo is fitted rather nicely...

"Huh? This is boring. How are we supposed to complete the ending?" Jihye leaned in between our seats, frowning.

"I don't think this is very family friendly."

The three of us turned to look at Namwoon, who wore a boyish striped shirt. In his hands was a giant, plastic-wrapped package. He dug into it with his fingers and dried green clumps spilled out.

Drugs.

"What kind of movie is this?" screeched Jihye.

"Are we supposed to smoke it?" said Namwoon seriously. I couldn't help the hearty laugh that escaped me at the image of Namwoon and Jihye, high out of their minds.

"More than that..." Dokja stood and looked at each of us in turn. "Shouldn't we figure out why we're wearing these ridiculous hats?"

He pointed to the oversized Mexican sombrero on his head that matched our own. It was certainly out of place in the current scene. My head swiveled at a greater realization.

"Where are Heewon and Gilyoung?" I said, concerned.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"DAVID, I know you're in there!" A man shouted ferociously.

We all pushed our way out of the RV. Outside was a massive guy with one eye and a mustache drooping over his mouth. The long rifle in his hands was trained on Dokja.

There was a shriek next to me, and I honestly couldn't tell if it came from Lee Jihye or Kim Namwoon. "Guns, how are we supposed to fight guns?!"

"Ah, so this is where you were."

Out from behind another RV stepped a handsome man with curly hair. Yet another gun focused on Dokja. His character isn't well-liked in this movie, is he?

The man's thick accent slowed into a purr. "Look at your beautiful wife. Mi amor, come with me instead; I can give you so much more."

Everyone followed the path of his outstretched hand to look at me. Dokja drew his sword and jerked towards me when I stepped past him. The man let me approach, keeping his gun on Dokja.

"You may have a gun. But, you know, you really can't hold one without a hand."

[The exclusive skill 'Sacred Light Lv. 5' has activated!]

He screamed as my sword chopped him off at the wrist. The next moment had it plunging into his chest. He dropped dead in the sand.

"How?"

The one-eyed man swiveled his gun to me, and Namwoon tossed the bag of drugs still in his hands. "Eat this!"

The man's eye grew large and he leapt down. "You dare waste—!"

"What a stupid idea," said Jihye, crossing her arms.

Namwoon was about to retort when the man let out a high-pitched noise of horror. He pulled back his hand from the package but it seemed like the dried bits stuck to him, swelling up his arm. The man wailed and swatted at his skin, but there were too many now swarming up his legs. He dropped his rifle and sprinted away. The dust cloud behind him looked straight out of a cartoon.

"Fire ants!" said a familiar voice.

Gilyoung and Heewon ran up to us, both panting hard under the hot sun. Gilyoung smiled at me with searching eyes. "Awesome, right?"

I crouched in front of him. "That was brilliant work. You're really coming along with your skill, Gilyoung."

The shy pride on his face was something precious, and my heart warmed at the sight.

"Sorry," Heewon puffed out. "We were stuck in an RV on the other side of the park, and there was this annoying girl who just wouldn't—oh! You killed the cartel boss."

I blinked. "You've seen this before?"

She nodded and sheathed her sword. "Once, long ago. It's a comedy-crime flick. By the way...what are you all wearing?"

Just then, a series of fireworks went off, ill-timed and utterly nonsensical to the current situation. It was quite the movie, and I was certain I never wanted to see the original after this.

[The Theater Master is satisfied with the altered ending.]

[Cast: Choi Yeona, Kim Dokja, Kim Namwoon, Lee Gilyoung, Lee Jihye, Jung Heewon]

The RV behind us glowed, and when we entered it we were transported back to the cinema.

MOVIE #2

Lee Jihye was not allowed to choose the next film.

From the previous one, the only rewards we got to keep were several bags of drugs and the sombreros, neither of which anyone wished to take. (Though, I did have to smack away Namwoon's sticky fingers from the plastic-wrapped packages, and I kept my attention sharp on him until we had successfully left them behind.)

We didn't wander the fourth floor long before I spotted one I recognized. "Let's do this one."

Everyone gathered together. Jihye's eyebrows shot up and a wicked grin spread across her face. "Yes."

Dokja's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but it was too late as we disappeared.

This time I wore an elegant purple sheath dress. I was dancing—well, more like being pulled along—with a dashing man dressed as a prince on a ballroom floor. "Oh, Giselle!" he swooned.

I guess that was me.

Uncomfortable with his expressive adoration, I searched the room for my companions.

Jihye and Namwoon were sniggering in the corner as they eyed various people around the room and stuffed their faces with hors d'oeuvres and wine. Gilyoung chased a squeaking chipmunk up the grand staircase. And Heewon was being swept off her feet by a well-dressed man, laughing as they spun on the dance floor.

My hands felt awkward on the prince. He didn't seem to notice as he twirled me around, and as we spun I saw someone approach us, holding their arm out.

"May I have this dance?" asked Dokja. He had already become remarkably invested in playing a role in this movie.

I nodded quickly. "Yes, let's."

"Hmph," said the prince. But he relinquished his hold and stepped aside.

If I thought Dokja was handsome in a polo before, he looked absolutely ravishing in the princely suit as he bowed before me. The navy velvet with silver trimmings had me wanting to run my fingers over it, and, as he took my hand in his, I couldn't help but smooth my palm across the fabric up his arm before settling on his shoulder.

"I actually can't dance," he muttered.

"Neither can I," I said with a smile.

He truly couldn't. But I didn't mind as we both clumsily stepped on each other's feet more than a few times. If anything, I was glad for it; each stumble or trodden toe prompted a private laugh, a shared smile between us. His hand was warm and firm on my waist.

"By the way, what are you wearing?"

"You don't like it?"

Dokja turned his head to the side and huffed. "It's different from everyone else here."

"Maybe I'm the main character, then," I teased.

He looked back at me, a fondness in his gaze. "Of course you are."

Eventually, we found a rhythm just as the song was winding down. The other partners began to separate, but he and I were still suspended in the moment. He was so close that I could see flecks of light grey in his eyes, his lips parting slightly, and his breath felt...Wait, was he that close before?

"Noona, come on!"

Dokja let go as Gilyoung grabbed my dress skirt to tug me along towards the others that had gathered.

Namwoon was polishing his knife with lazy movements along his pants. He greeted me when the three of us joined them. Jihye gave me a wide-eyed, excited glance that had me frowning. She's up to something.

Heewon finally made her way over to us with a light flush on her cheeks. I shot her an amused look, to which she rolled her eyes.

"You have to be careful as the princess. There will be an attempt on your life," said Jihye, staring directly at me. Dokja jolted at my side.

"Maybe it's Heewon," I pointed out. Heewon was certainly dressed in a much more elaborate, puffy ballgown befitting a princess, over my sleek, modern one. But I knew that wasn't the case.

Jihye shook her head. "That's not how the movie goes."

"Great, you've seen this one?" Dokja bit out sarcastically.

"I have too, once," I said. "And she might be right."

We then all turned in shock as Kim Namwoon agreed with us. He shrugged. "What? I've seen it too. There's some interesting shit in it."

Jihye broke the dumbfounded silence with an ominous warning to me. "Don't eat any apples."

"What? Why not?" demanded Dokja. Jihye only gave a witchy, mysterious smile.

"It's fine. I just need to stay away from anything with apples." A server passed by with a tray of tarts with a thin apple slice garnishing. Easy enough.

Jihye swirled the drink in her hand, peering into the goblet intensely. Then she pushed it my way. "Here. This is really good—try it!"

I took it with a word of thanks, but was distracted by a commotion behind us.

The prince was elbowing his way past people and coming towards our group. "Giselle! Come, and let us dance once again."

Before he could clasp my hand, another swatted it away. Dokja's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Her dance card is full."

Dance card? We didn't have dance cards.

But the prince was determined. "She is my bride, and we shall dance together."

The smile dropped, and Dokja didn't bother to hide the irritation on his face. "No. You won't."

"Who are you to declare such a thing, lowly peasant?" challenged the prince. Dokja's fingers twitched towards Unbroken Faith.

Jihye's eyes were sparkling like she'd just been given a brand new sword. I took a mindless sip from the goblet while considering her, and Dokja's, behavior.

The effect was immediate.

My limbs locked, muscles frozen in place, and I collapsed on the hardwood as my eyes closed. "Yeona!"

"Giselle!"

"Angel-noona!"

"What happened?!"

Liquid seeped into my dress from the fallen goblet. I heard someone pick it up and sniff.

"Oh, no! Was there apple juice in that cocktail? I feel terrible." Dear God, that girl's acting needed some serious work. The name "Lee Jihye" would most certainly not be headlining a single film anytime soon.

The rise and fall of my chest must have been visible, because I heard a sigh of relief, then Heewon said, "She's alive. Maybe sleeping."

"What do we do?"

"Heh. Well, you know how these things go," said Jihye, much too eager. "Only true love's kiss can break the spell."

The resulting silence was painfully loud.

Then there was a rustling sound, and a heavy force pressed down on me while a pair of lips pushed onto mine. They made a loud smack as they were instantly ripped away.

"Get. Off. Her." Dokja's seething voice could have cut diamond.

More than one of my companions must have drawn their weapon on the prince, because his laugh had a nervous strain to it. "Let's talk this out like civilized men, now."

"Get lost."

"Look, it didn't even work," said Heewon.

"I—" The prince huffed and then there was the noise of him storming away.

"Pompous bastard," someone mumbled.

"We need to try," said Gilyoung, his voice growing louder as he neared me. He pressed softly onto my cheek. I could practically feel the waves of disappointment at his failure to rouse me from my state.

It's not your fault, Gilyoung. I don't care for you any less! I cried out in my mind.

"I'll go."

Heewon left a gentle peck on my forehead. She sighed when I didn't wake.

Lee Jihye was next, leaving a forehead kiss that was much too wet, and I agonized over not being able to wipe off her slobber.

"No, Kim Namwoon."

There was a shuffling sound of struggle, and I heard Namwoon protest. But he must have been successfully held back, because no one approached me.

Gilyoung's voice was calm and assured as he spoke. "Hyung, it's you."

I heard the others urging Dokja to just do it, to get it over with so I would be saved and they could all move on. There was a long pause as we all waited.

My skin buzzed underneath the lips that pressed into my cheek, but, still, I couldn't move. It caused a few grumbles from the group.

"You have to do it like in the movies," explained—surprisingly—Heewon. "They always wake up the princess with a real kiss."

"Or maybe it has to be someone else," said Dokja dully.

"Yeah!"

"Kim Namwoon, shut the hell up."

Jihye must have hit him because Namwoon began complaining at her.

"Hyung." At Gilyoung's insistent urging, Dokja's thumb slid across the spot he had just kissed as he cupped my face.

A warm breath hovered over me. It hesitated, before something brushed light against my lips and left. I remained trapped.

"Again!" Jihye demanded. "That was pathetic! It has to be worthy of a 'true love's kiss,' after all."

"But she doesn't…" mumbled Dokja. He exhaled loudly.

Then his lips returned to mine. My eyes flew open.

Kim Dokja was kissing me: solid and proper, if lacking the passion of a raw, sincere kiss between lovers. Even so, I couldn't help the smile that broke out.

The hand left my cheek as Dokja shot back, aghast. I sat up and touched my tingling lips. "Wow."

"Were you awake that whole time?" said Dokja in a thin, panicked voice.

"I was." I nodded. "But I really was frozen. It was like sleep paralysis—my mind was awake but my body was stuck."

Dokja paled. I wouldn't mind sleep paralysis if the demon in the corner looked like him. Perhaps I shouldn't share that particular thought out loud, I mused as I observed Dokja get up and pace, wringing his fingers. I looked to Jihye who returned my grin. Hers was much more devious.

Jung Heewon looked between us with great interest.

[The constellation 'Demon-like Judge of Fire' trembles with euphoria!]

[800 coins have been sponsored.]

[The constellation 'Prisoner of the Golden Headband' is very curious about you now.]

Dokja finally stopped and addressed the others. "We achieved the ending, so why aren't we leaving?"

The story responded in the form of a booming roar that cracked the windows and rattled the ground under our feet.

A villainous-looking older woman transformed in the center of the dance floor amidst a pillar of green and orange flames. She unfurled her wings to reveal an iridescent, dark-blue dragon.

"Kill it!" Jihye yelled and ran towards the dragon.

Dokja dashed away (rather eagerly, might I say), and Heewon and Gilyoung were quick to follow.

I poked the still-scowling face of Kim Namwoon. "Stop your sulking."

"It's not fair," he wailed. "It would have worked with me, too, if I had the chance to try! But that loud, ugly sword-girl and bug brat wouldn't let me."

"You and that 'ugly' sword girl were awfully close and giggly earlier," I reminded him. Namwoon's face flushed as he tried to stammer out excuses.

There was another roar. "Should we join them?"

Namwoon hesitated, and said, "It's a dragon."

I contemplated. He must be unwilling to kill another dragon because of his sponsor. It wouldn't be right to force him into something like that, and, as I watched our companions fend off the beast, not everyone was really needed.

[The exclusive skill 'Sacred Light' has been activated.]

"No problem. This won't take long." And I sent two spikes of light straight at the dragon, plunging them into its eyes.

"It's blinded!" said Heewon.

All too quickly, the dragon was slain.

I rubbed Namwoon's back at the dispirited and mournful look on his face. The others rejoined us, and our messages popped up.

[The Theater Master is beyond satisfied with the ending.]

[Cast: Choi Yeona, Kim Dokja, Lee Jihye, Jung Heewon, Lee Gilyoung, Kim Namwoon]

The prince suddenly walked up to us. He got down on one knee and offered out his hands to...Jung Heewon.

"O, powerful and fair maiden! Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Heewon gaped at him. "I don’t…that is—"

The spotlight flashed on us and we were glitched back into the cinema.

THE PROP ROOM

This time, we obtained a healthy stash of poison sleep vials and various dragon claws and scales, whose beauty might fetch a high price on the Dokkaebi Exchange and Auction.

I shuffled next to Jihye. "You knew that drink was poisoned."

"Did I?"

I laughed, glancing at Dokja. He was carefully angled far away from me. "He's never going to be able to look me in the eye again."

"Just wait, he'll be back for more. Once the fear settles down he won't be able to resist," said Jihye, possessing the assurance of a wisdom far beyond what seventeen years of life should have given her.

This sly, mischievous child. I suppose I ought to thank her for a matchmaking scheme well done, but I didn't want to give her the satisfaction. Instead, I sighed and shook my head. "How meddlesome."

"I, um, wanted to apologize." Jihye's voice was meek as she lowered her head, fiddling with the charm on her sword handle. "I don't dislike you. Actually, I think you're really cool. An extremely cool unnie."

"Then why—?"

"Master likes you more than me." The words choked out of her. "I'm his perfect student, but still, you...I was maybe...a bit jealous."

Jihye trailed off and seemed to shrink down on herself. I placed a hand on her head and she looked up. "I think you're really cool, too. And believe me when I say your Master does not like me as much as you think he does."

I touched the bruise on my jaw, and Jihye straightened, confidence returning to her body.

"Yes! That's when I knew I was wrong." My expression deadpanned, but Jihye continued with a bright smile. "Master would never beat up his girlfriend."

"Are you still on about that?"

Jihye leaned in conspiratorially. "Besides, I want to help you. It's not Master you love, but that blurry-face ahjussi. I think you have terrible taste, but I won't judge."

My sputtering was somewhere between a cough and a wheeze. Like student, like teacher, it seemed; both were too perceptive for their own good. I was too stunned to even defend Dokja from her—definitely judgmental—insults.

"Don't worry, angel-unnie. I think he likes you, too," she said. Then she skipped up the stairs after the others.

I trailed after her in a daze.

"Let's visit the prop room," called out Dokja. He was already over halfway up the fifth floor stairs.

[You have reached the rewards room.]

[Rewards are limited to 2 per person.]

We oohed and aahed at the movie prop replicas on display. Heewon picked up a sword, while Gilyoung grabbed a hat and Thor's hammer right from under Jihye's nose. Jihye was incredibly grouchy after that.

Namwoon was dashing around in a frenzy, shouting in excitement at each new item he came across.

I saw a necklace behind a glass that made me pause. The ivory pendant was in the shape of an elephant tusk, and it was attached to a black cord with an ornate bronze clasp.

[Item: Hathi's Tusk — Replica] A-grade necklace A replica of the tusk of the great leader, Colonel Hathi When worn, it can amplify a taunt skill using "Law of the Jungle"

Hmm. In fact, I did have a 'Taunt' skill, but I rarely used it, often forgetting to raise its level. Perhaps with this item it would prove more useful. I slung the pendant around my neck.

I wandered a bit longer before Dokja found me.

"Yeona, here. Take this."

Nestled in his palm was a jade ring. It was a translucent, imperial green that seemed to glow from within under the lamplight, and there was a Celtic carving along the band. A hint of gold was painted into the design.

It was a gorgeous piece.

"Thank you. What does it—" I asked, but he was already nodding and walking away "—do."

I tried a couple different options before sliding it onto my ring finger. I stretched out my hand to admire the way the gold in the middle caught the light and gleamed. It was truly stunning. I stared hard at this band of stone that now graced my hand.

Kim Dokja gave me a ring. My skin felt too warm and sensitive everywhere.

It was the only finger that fit, and my right hand needs to be totally free for when I hold a sword for an even distribution of weight. Plus, it doesn't necessarily have to mean what rings on those fingers usually meant, or anything of the sort…

Well, it really couldn't be helped.

I had chosen my two props, so I tagged along with Heewon in search of something for Sangah. Along the way, I stopped at the sight of Dokja arguing with Jihye.

"Can you just take it? You haven't got anything picked out anyways," said Dokja, annoyance all over his face. He had on the reinforced suit—which led to some very, very distracted and inappropriate thoughts—and Heracles' Shield was in his hands.

"Why should I, huh? Why don't you?"

"I've already chosen mine."

"How is that fair?!"

"Jihye." I stepped near them. "Can you please? Your companions need good items, too."

She softened at being included in our group. "...Fine, but only for you, unnie."

Then she marched away with the shield, her nose held high. I smiled. She must still feel sorry for how she treated me before.

I was curious what other item Dokja had picked out, if he couldn't take the shield like he did in the novel. But I didn't have the chance to ask as he said a quick thanks and left.

Really, now. How long will I have to endure this?

Soon, everyone had finished up and gathered to ascend the next few floors. Yoo Joonghyuk had waited long enough.

THE FINAL ACT — ROOFTOP GARDEN

It didn’t take long to clear the movies and we now stood in front of the stairs leading to the rooftop. We left Jihye behind to recover from the admiral film, and we reached the top.

Joonghyuk stood in the center of the garden.

"Oi, Yoo Joonghyuk!"

Before I could tell him to wait, Dokja sprinted towards him and smacked his head. Damn, that was pretty hard. Gilyoung and Heewon winced beside me, while Namwoon cackled. Dokja kicked his leg harshly, but froze afterwards when there was still no reaction. "Don't tell me..."

['Theater Master Simulacrum' has appeared.]

We all turned to look at an old man on a park bench. He tipped his hat at us with a pleasant smile.

"Fuck," said Dokja.

Joonghyuk was taken possession of by the theater master and punched Dokja so hard that he flew backwards. He was stunned and clutched his head.

I ran to check on him, double-checking my stats that all hovered in the high-twenties range, and unleashed sacred light as a long sword and arrows hovering behind me.

"Dokja-ssi!"

Heewon flew past me towards Joonghyuk and I tried to reach out, but it was too late. "Heewon, no!"

She was similarly hurled into a wall. Gilyoung hurried to check on her, bloodied and stunned, and Jihye suddenly popped up from the staircase. I saw Joonghyuk aim for her next.

My arrows flew towards them, shifting into a barrier of light in front of Jihye. Upon impact with Joonghyuk's fist, it shattered. She started yelling at him as they fought.

"Yeona," said Dokja. I helped him sit up properly. "Can you take the theater master?"

I nodded. "Be careful."

As I ran, I called over Namwoon. Together we leapt for the boss. Dokja said in the novel that this guy had extremely low combat ability, right?

Wrong.

The theater master blocked my sword with his staff, and quickly, much too quick for an old man, dodged the swipe of Namwoon's knife. His hand pushed flat against Namwoon's head and the boy's eyes rolled back.

Shit. "Namwoon!"

He lunged for me, jabbing his knife with an unfortunate precision. I blocked it. "Kim Namwoon, snap out of it!"

Behind us, I heard Dokja talking to Joonghyuk with his knowledge of Ways of Survival. Dokja must have then activated the stigma 'Song of the Sword,' and Gilyoung must have summoned his monster, Titano, because all hell erupted.

Namwoon didn't give me more time to think as he charged at me with a roar, swinging wildly. We exchanged blows, knife and sword. His blade caught my arm and sliced the skin, and I used the flat of my sword to knock him back.

The theater master smirked at us.

I dodged, then punched Namwoon's chest, and when he fell down I used sacred light to trap him to the ground. He struggled, his mouth foaming.

[The skill 'Fleet Foot Lv. 6' is activated.]

"You're too smug." I appeared behind the boss and sliced down his back with my sword. He vanished in a glitch of sparkling light.

['Theater Master Simulacrum' has been defeated for the first time.]

[9,000 coins have been awarded.]

"It's over?"

Heewon and Jihye supported each other. They came over to me, along with Dokja carrying a knocked out Gilyoung. Namwoon had also passed out, so I released his shackles.

Dokja set down Gilyoung in the grass.

"Look, shooting stars!" said Jihye. Those of us that could lined up along the railing to see the view beyond the broken barrier. Seoul was burning, crumbling, and somehow glittering below.

"I feel bad for thinking any part of this looks pretty," I said slowly.

Dokja glanced at the side of my face before turning back. "You're not wrong, though."

I saw Heewon and Jihye making a wish upon the shooting stars.

"They're wishing on disasters," I muttered. Dokja seemed surprised that I was aware.

Then Gilyoung, having awoken, pushed in between Dokja and I. My hand found his hair. "What did you wish for, hyung? Noona?"

"I wished for happiness of my own design."

They looked at me curiously at that. Dokja was silent, before he looked back at the unconscious Joonghyuk and said, "I wished to see this story's epilogue."

He went over to Joonghyuk and squatted as he inspected the regressor. In the meantime, Namwoon roused and sat up, rubbing his head.

Dokja's spine suddenly went rigid, as if remembering something.

"Yeona."

He strode up to me, tilted my face to stare hard at the bruise on my jaw, then stalked back to the unconscious Joonghyuk. His arm reared back.

THUMP!

"You know what? Hell yeah!"

"AHJUSSI, YOU DARE—"

"Nice, Dokja-hyung!"

Heewon seemed torn between shock and amusement, Jihye was trembling from rage, and Gilyoung cheered with curled fists. I turned to the one person that had been suspiciously silent.

Namwoon only shrugged at me. "That's what he gets for messing with your pretty face."

Dokja, who had returned to us in time to catch that comment, looked at Namwoon approvingly.

[The constellation 'Prisoner of the Golden Headband' bangs his staff in excitement.]

[The constellation 'Abyssal Black Flame Dragon' laughs maniacally at 'Yoo Joonghyuk's' plight!]

[600 coins have been sponsored.]

[The constellation 'Secretive Plotter' rolls his eyes at such pettiness.]

"...Uriel?" I prompted. She had been uncharacteristically silent. Surely, this was a moment she had an opinion on. I waited.

[The constellation 'Demon-like Judge of Fire' is overjoyed at 'Kim Dokja's' display of protection over you!]

[The constellation 'Demon-like Judge of Fire' was sad to see you hurt earlier.]

I smiled. "That's very sweet of you."

[The constellation 'Demon-like Judge of Fire' apologizes for her words yesterday, she gets carried away sometimes.]

"Water under the bridge," I said. "Under different circumstances, it might have been funny. And I like seeing your comments."

This encouragement must have made Uriel incredibly happy, because she sponsored me a whopping two thousand coins in response.

Then we all looked at Yoo Joonghyuk's student. Jihye seemed conflicted now that her initial anger had waned.

"Well…I also think that Master shouldn’t have touched unnie’s face," Jihye admitted, digging her toe into the ground.

And just like that, everyone agreed to not breathe a word of what had transpired on the rooftop.

Yoo Joonghyuk threw a fit of fury when he awoke and caught sight of his reflection, his previously perfect face now marred by such a bruise, but for all his sword threatening and glaring, he couldn't shake the culprit from our closed lips.

He was still furious with Kim Dokja anyways.

Next part ->

A/N; Did you catch all of the movie references in this theater dungeon chapter? There are five total.

[abyssalwyrm0]

Adam and Eve talk about the elephant (Cain) in the room.

He was where she expected to find him. After putting the children to sleep, Eve had gone after Adam and here he are, outside home and looking at the night sky with that grumpy face.

"Adam...." Eve calls him.

"What do you want?" Adam didn't even look back at her.

"We need to talk, it's about Cain." She says with a serious expression, having found strenght to have this talk and taking advantage that it was only the two of them now.

"Sigh, what's your son's problem?" He suddenly felt his energy being drained off and stress started to burn, he would need to put some effort to give her any attention.

"You."

"Oh, can you explain me, why?" Mockery was detected.

"You know why!" She tries to hold back his anger. "Adam, you see how he look like when you're with Abel and his siblings. He is envious and for good reasons, since you barely give him the time of the day."

"And why is this my problem? He isn't even my son! I'm already doing enough, giving and teaching him enough to him survive by allowing the brat to live under my roof with MY children where he get food and shelter.

"This isn't enough! Cain needs a father, and you're the only one who can do it...." Suddenly Adam jumped from where he sat and on heavy steps walked in high speed until where Eve was, interrupting her.

His golden eyes looked into her red eyes that formely were green with such a burning rage that made her shut up.

"How you fucking dare ask it from me!? He isn't my son, never will be and I won't pretend the contrary! Did you really think you can order me to love your bastard as if I'm obliged to it?!"

"Adam, please, I'm asking........"

"To raise and love the son of the person I hate most as if he was my son! Sorry, not sorry, sweety, but only the first part is possible and is already hard enough." He opens a sarcastic smile.

They remembers clearly of the day she gave birth to the original bastard. They had to figure out for themselves about how to do a childbirth like basically everything else since they were banished and this was one of the most scary moments for both of them. The pain, cries, all this bloood, etc, with the only examples of what was supposed to be done being the animals. The fact tha they had to do it again and again crossed their minds in the heat of the moment, but they had more urgent issues to deal with.

When Adam was holding Cain in his hands, Eve never felt so much afraid as if Adam was cruel enough to hurt a baby, even one whose mere existence offended him, but the look he was giving the newborn wasn't reassuring for her. There was so much rage there, but also sadness and dissapointment after the surprise ended and he got the situation. That blonde baby with white skin, red cheecks and angelic aura obviously wasn't his and he knew exactly who was his father.

Heaven only resolved to send some angels after Adam and Eve did most of the work, appearing exactly when the mother was asking to the stepfather calmly give her son, just to strip off the nephilim of his powers and let him crying with his family. Adam took advantage of the moment to let Eve alone with Cain to think alone and only appeared after what seemed to be an eternity for his wife, who was starting to think she and her son were abandoned.

"Please, Adam, my son deserve a father....."

"Why don't you ask his father to take care of him?" He interrupts her again.

"You know exactly why! With Lucifer and Lilith on hell, I can only rely on you!"

"I feel sooooooooo beloved~."

"Take things seriously, I need your help!"

"Of course, what you were going to do without me?" He chuckles bitterly, the fact instead of amusing him was making him angry.

"Exactly, we only have each other now. It's us against the world, fighting for ours and our children's survival! I need your help." She approaches.

"Urgh, shut up! I'm alread doing enough for you too, more than you deserve." He gives her the shoulder and walks away.

"Hey, what are you going to do!?" She shouts out of surprise and run after him, grabbing his arm.

With brute force Adam releases himself from Eve's hand, almost making her fall on the ground by accident. For a quick moment he seemed worried for her, but then he came back to his usual mood that vary between boringness and rage, and now he was very angry.

"Take care to not hurt yourself, fucking Wasted Rib. I need some time alone, later I'm coming back to sleep." He returns to the route of his original destiny, nowhere.

"Now!?" She points to the darkness of the night. "It's already too late, it will be too dangerous. If you don't want to talk now It's fine, but let's go back inside." She tries to grab him.

"I can take care of myself, don't talk as if you're worried about me." He avoids his touch.

"I'M WORRIED ABOUT YOU!"

"No, you aren't. You just care about how I can be useful for since you need me." He says with a tired tone.

"I'm the one being treated as an object...." She looks to the ground and kick one rock, before crossing her arms with an uncomfortable expression. "...you only care to how I can be useful to you, objectfying me as some sort of multitasking tool." Her voice turns heavy.

He rolls his eyes and leave her alone.

[jules-writes-stories]

Just Enough Light to Cast Shadows

Azriel x Eris

Chapter 34

The sky was a gray blanket, and thunder rolled over sloping hills. Rain pelted Gwyneth Berdara as she led a dozen Valkyries along the Eastern Front of the Autumn Court's seat of power. They were bolstered by another fifteen female Illyrians, led by her sister-in-arms. Emerie studied a map, leathers gleaming in the rain.

“Where is Nesta?” The Illyrian asked, not looking up from the soaked parchment. She wiped the water from her face with her sleeve. 

“I don’t know, but I hope she gets here soon.” Gwyn’s voice was clear and strong. She looked around at the females, standing at attention, armed and ready to take on Prythian’s most powerful, ancient, and cruel male. Her heart ached with pride. 

“Did you think I would miss taking down this bastard?” Nesta Archeron asked from behind as the Valkyries turned to see their friend. She was fully armed, Ataraxia strapped to her back, and her spine of steel was unbent. 

The ranks of female warriors stood at attention upon Nesta’s appearance, seeming to walk through a rip in the world. And there they stood, these living legends of their time—the Illyrian Valkyrie who carried her broken wings like a throne, the Warrior Priestess, and Lady Death herself. 

Day and Dawn Court sentries, golden armored and stoic, lined up along the Western Walls as Summer, Spring, and Winter approached the North and South. The Forest House was surrounded, and Prythian united in its cause to take the High Lord from his Court. 

For leading the charge was Eris, their prince and general, in a full suit of golden armor. To his right was Sylvan Vanserra, and to his left, hair braided to her head in a coronet that gleamed as bright as any crown, was their Lady.

The three royal High Fae stopped at the gates of the Forest House. Eris dismounted and stood, but Amaya Vanserra's voice rang out. “Sons of Autumn lay down your arms. Stand with your Lady, princes, court, and Fae.” 

Thanks to everyone still on this journey with me. Special thank you to my beloved @pippsmcgee for beta reading and friendship ♥️

Please let me know if you ever want on our off the tag | @the-darkestminds @fieldofdaisiies @mistandmemories @c-starstuff-man0 @molcat07 @chunkypossum @going-through-shit @talibunny30 @yanny-77 @lilah-asteria @amalhe-kofee @futurehunt @seihdacalling @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @unanswered-stars @that-girl-reading @christeareads @g00seg1rl

[torchflies]

I was cleaning out my drafts and found this tiny thing about vampires. For you, my beloved 💜 (ahem, middle-aged Val Kilmer).

Tomek Kazansky wakes from a dead sleep when a pair of hands close tightly around his ears, smothering the distant knell of a bell.

His blue eyes fly open to the sight of his ojciec chrzestny — his godfather — bent over him stiffly, stinking of nalewki, with an ax from the barn looped through his belt. 

The old man’s eyes are cold, assessing, as he drinks in the sight of a five-year-old Tomek, the bastard son of a Polish nun who never named a father. His warm skin clings to its golden color, even when winter traps them in their homes and away from the sun. He is ruddy and strong, his little round face always upturned towards the sky and seeking out parts unknown. He is Polish and he holds their secrets in the clicking of his young bones, in the caul he was born with — just like his mother, his Mama. 

“Come, Tomek.” His godfather, Piotr Czajkowski, says. “We must cut off her head by sunrise.”

His Mama’s grave is unquiet, that’s what his godfather says as they walk through the moonlit night and Tomek struggles beneath the weight of the heavy shovel handed to him. She has only been buried a day, dying before she could take The Sacrament.

“She is a vjesci now, lost to us.” His godfather growls — a vampire, as they unearth the pinewood box that houses her now. 

Tomek has heard stories of becoming a vjesci for all his life. Babies born the way he was, the way his Mama was, born en caul — inside their sacs — are destined to wake from death as a vjesci. The only way to prevent the change is to eat the dried remains of the sac on the eve of the seventh year of life. His Mama never did. Tomek knows the rules, the way all the children in his village do, on how to prevent his vjesci mother from rising out of her unquiet grave and killing him. That is the first task of any vjesci, to slaughter their friends and family — ringing the church bell to signify their deaths and harbinging many others. 

His Mama looks like she’s sleeping when they pry open her coffin, her cheeks still ruddy red and her hands flexible when his godfather lifts them: signs of life. 

There are six holes in her white dress, as if she had been eating the fabric away. 

That is the only proof his godfather needs before he — reaches a hand inside and lets her fingers coil around his.

She blinks open eyes of sanguine red and her lips curl in a bloody smile as she looks right at Tomek, her mouthful of sharp fangs reflecting off the light of the moon.

“Hello, Tomek.” She coos, “It’s almost time, little one. You will come home to us.” 

His godfather flashes a mouthful of similar fangs, and Tomek remembers — his godfather died last summer in the barn, his ax slipped while he was splitting wood. 

Tomek’s eyes grow wide and terrified, backing up to nearly trip into an open grave.

Come home, Tomek…

—

Come home, Tomek…

On the final night of Tom Kazansky’s life — he’s tired. His body is older than it should be, ravaged by a disease more nefarious than any of the monsters that haunted his childhood. Nightmares, dreams long forgotten, half-truths buried by a child who moved to America and left Poland behind to rot — not realizing how the tendrils of that life are woven into his very being, holding him fast. 

He dies in his sleep, a peaceful death, his tracheostomy grows clogged with secretions as he sleeps and he passes without a struggle.

The man he loves is miles away, protecting their child, as Tom Kazansky breathes his last. 

He just never expected to wake up again — or to wake up hungry. 

—

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 52 Hype Posting

Hi void. I am going to vibrate out of my seat. Oh I'm going feral, absolutely feral. Another WSJ cover and lead colour page next week already! Promotion on TV during prime-time in Japan! The insanely good volume 4 PV! Hokazono-sensei judging for a manga award! Kagurabachi's getting the push to be the Next Big Thing at last- you love to see it.

Kind of.

I want Hokazono-sensei to get all the recognition he deserves, but I also don't want the fandom to explode and become yet another annoying dudebro space. The success of the series is more important though, so I'm happy to see Kagurabachi get so much support. Everyone needs to know about this manga! ANYWAY.

LOOK AT THIS TROLL.

It's Chihiro's turn to have a creepy parasocial admirer now.

Hiruhiko's not doing this just for kicks, however- he deliberately (and successfully) triggered Chihiro to orchestrate his dramatic fall. Given what happened at the end of this chapter, I would not be surprised if Chihiro's literal descent is foreshadowing a metaphorical one of some kind down the line.

And this just breaks my heart:

Triggers Chihiro's rage then fucks off only to do this? I will not be mourning Hiruhiko's death.

Chihiro's not built for being a murder bot and it pains him so much to be seen as equivalent to someone like Hiruhiko. But he was taught to see things through and uses his hatred for the Hishaku to keep going. Revenge is probably the only thing he wakes up every day for- he wasn't kidding about that "fresh hatred" line in chapter 1. And neither was Shiba when he said living like this would break him. This kid needs a hug and a safe place to cry out the pain so badly, man...

More than that, though... more than anything...

HIRUHIKO'S THE FUCKIN' ANTI-HAKURI.

"We're equals", he says. "I killed my family", he mentions. "Let's be friends," he asks as he forces his way into Chihiro's life. "I'm the only one who can understand you." The hell you aren't you rat bastard. Hakuri's the one whose soul resonates with Chihiro's. He's the one Chihiro acknowledged as an equal and a friend. BEGONE, FOUL DEMON.

God damn it. Hokazono, I love you for making my most hated villain archetype into a character I want to see more of. I've never understood why playful psychopaths are so beloved but I get it with this guy. Smooth move making him the evil version of my favourite character in all of fiction, Mr. Author. Now I need Hiruhiko and Hakuri to face off over their ideals about who Chihiro really is. It would be the perfect reprise to the Sojo arc! PLEEEEEEASE. There's so much HakuHiro potential in this setup... Hakuri being the one to pull Chihiro forward again would be amazing. But not for his own goals this time- just to help Chihiro as a true friend and partner. Not gonna get too attached to this since it's just one potential development out of many... I won't let myself... (too late).

(Psst... 昼チ or 昼チ��� will probably be the JP ship tag/name for Hiruhiko/Chihiro. Ain't no way Chihiro is the top in this pair for most Japanese fujin lol.)

The Show

The main character of the play's name is Sasuke and Hokazono-sensei is a huge Naruto fan. So much so that he's taken his own spin on Naruto and Sasuke three times now (Enten, Roku no Meiyaku, Kagurabachi). Chihiro is, in fact, his OC donut steel character inspired by the most annoying emo ninja boy ever. I see you, Hokazono-sensei.

The Battle of Soshima might be a made-up title to reference the real historical event The Battle of Tsushima, which fellow Golden Kamuy fans will recognize. At any rate, there aren't any famous Japanese stage plays with the same name, so there's no direct narrative parallels to draw insight from (sad trombone noises). Fortunately for us Hiruhiko is a yapper like I hoped and tells us the plan pretty plainly anyway:

I relate so hard right now, random audience guy.

Hiruhiko says the plan to kill Chihiro's not a bluff. But he's not acting like he's intends to make good on that statement. So that means...

Perception vs Intent

Chihiro looking his best: stressed and menacing

This is gonna be huge I think. Remember what Azami said back in the Sojo arc in ch. 9:

Azami, please come back soon. I need you carnally.

Then consider likes like this...

Local violent gang member still pretty tough after becoming human shishkebab through a moving train.

Chihiro could be set up to tarnish his father's legacy.

The public doesn't know the true strength or capabilities of the weapons that won the war- they just know that Rokuhira Kunishige made them and they were the key to winning. So Chihiro dropping in on a stage play to splatter the audience with a headless corpse's blood is not a great first impression. He looks downright villainous in this scene. Awesome, but villainous.

The Hishaku are going to metaphorically "kill" Chihiro somehow. For some reason, tormenting this poor guy is absolutely vital to John's plans... it's probably more along the lines of Chihiro being a useful pawn to move around to create conflict they can exploit, but still. They're going to try to break his spirit this arc for sure. Leave Chihiro alone! He's been through enough!

I've got a hell of a lot to say about this but I need some key details from the next few chapters before going off on lunatic tangents. Fuckin' hell though, this is great. This is exactly the type of development I was hoping we'd see after Samura's chapter. Chihiro's committed to the cause of killing the Hishaku, who so far have been wholly unsympathetic villains. But killing is a wrongful act. And this chapter sets up that Chihiro might not be the sympathetic avenging swordsman we love him as in the eyes of the public- he appears to be more of a menace like some of the members of the Kamunabi accused him of. He might be challenged on his murderous modus operandi via a Hishaku-backed smear campaign. Seriously, using Chihiro's brutality against them to ruin his father's legacy would be so evil and cruel. I love it.

We'll be able to count on Shiba and Hakuri to make sure Chihiro doesn't go off the deep end at least. I wouldn't be surprised if Hiyuki played a pivotal role in helping Chihiro out this arc too, but I don't want to commit when we've hardly seen anything of her so far (my spaghetti sovereign... please come back to the main story full-time soon).

Whether or not I'm right (I'm not, I never am), Chihiro's murder sprees fueled by Fresh Hatred are going to get looked at in a critical way. High time and I am definitely here for it. Tell me what you've got to say about violent revenge motivated by grief, Hokazono-sensei. You have more space to examine the topic now compared to Farewell! Cherry Boy.

Shorter than usual but that's not a bad thing. I can always come back and edit this (came back to do so twice now already) or make another addendum post, but...

... Just choose kindness, people. For yourself and others. See you later.