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sanjoongie · 8 days ago

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Testing the Theory

ღPairing: Director! Park Seonghwa x Professor of Dreams! Reader (f) x Professor of Battle! (General) Hongjoong

ღGenre: angst, smut

ღTrope: enemies to lovers, exes to lovers

ღAu: Modern Wizardry School au, Professors au, white and black magic au, army au

ღWord Count: 4,507

ღWarnings: magical somnophilia, sex dreams, restraints, pain into pleasure spell, dubcon (roleplaying, the dubcon is in the roleplay, there is not actual dubious consent), biting, marking, breast play, glove kink, mxm, jerking off, fingering, nipple play, edging, cuckolding, breeding kink, oral kink, penetrative sex with no barrier

ღRated: 18+ MDNI

ღSummary: you literally flee from the truth to stay away from a broken heart but nothing ever stops director park. that's why you may have put him to sleep, but will that really help you?

ღBeta’s: @downtoamagicalland

ღPlaying while writing: Man on Fire, because if that isn't Wizard Director! Hwa, i don't know what is

ღPrevious Part| ღMini Masterlist | ღNext Part

“Well well well, seems like I'm not the only one you like to rub into Wooyoung’s face. I'm wounded.”

You whined and buried your face deeper into the pillow. “Seonghwa, why are you yelling?!”

“Oh, believe you me, lover, I'm not yelling. Yet.”

You blinked blearily up at Seonghwa, whose face was a mask of slight amusement but his eyes burned dark. You quickly remembered drinking with Hongjoong and saluting your fallen comrades. And as it turned out, that ‘pillow’ you had been burying your face into was Hongjoong’s chest.

“Good morning, Reaper,” Hongjoong said in a gravelly morning voice that made your stomach dip.

Seonghwa dipped his head in a cordial acknowledgement. “General.”

“What time is it?” You croaked.

“The sun has risen,” Seonghwa informed you.

“If I'm not late for class, why the hell are you here, Director Park?”

Seonghwa laughed, dry and sarcastic. “I was worried. After yesterday morning, I worried for you. Then I heard you took your last class off and I worried for you. Then I found out that Professor Kim had specially requested his Lieutenant to speak to his students. How cute. And then I overheard our very favourite student talk about how he was pretty sure the professor of dreams and the professor of battle had fucked. Imagine my surprise when I sent out a location demon and it brought me to this spot, this place, with you two cozied up like you never broke each other’s hearts.”

Hongjoong sat up, letting you slip away. “We didn't do anything, Seonghwa,” he insisted.

“Did she let you comfort her when she was hurting?” Seonghwa demanded quietly.

“We didn't fuck, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong insisted again.

Seonghwa’s eyes shone with an intensity that made your mouth dry. “I didn't ask that.”

You got out of bed and found your heels. “I didn't tell him about my dream,” you aimed at Seonghwa, well aware of what he was subtly referring to.

“What dream?” Hongjoong snapped. He didn't understand the situation and it was fraying his nerves.

You raised an eyebrow at Seonghwa and he blew out a bit of his anger. “See? And so much for you being able to share,” you mocked the director.

“Now wait a fucking minute,” Hongjoong interrupted, his anger full blown now.

“My apologies, General. It seems I've gotten my panties in a twist,” Seonghwa said dryly.

You made your way towards the door when Hongjoong called you out. “Where are you going?”

“I want something greasy to eat,” You said.

“Now you may be able to get away with not telling Seonghwa about your dream but I know better. You speak with your subconscious in your dreams. What has it been telling you?” Hongjoong asked.

“Nothing.”

Seonghwa sat down on the bed and crossed his legs. “She woke up with a gasp. She said she had a bad dream.”

“How bad, Lieutenant?” Hongjoong growled.

You swallowed. “I woke up. It's fine.”

Seonghwa’s eyes followed your back and forth like it was titillating. “What does that mean?”

“It means her dreams were always dangerous when we were at war. They usually told her just how much in danger she was. Except they also almost killed her. That's why she started sleeping with me. At first, it was for the sex, to stay awake. Later, it was because I never slept and could wake her in case the dreams became… violent. So I will ask you again, Lieutenant, how bad?”

“I couldn't breathe,” You admitted.

“Is that why you told me you needed some room to breathe?” Seonghwa questioned.

“If you're feeling the danger already…?” Hongjoong appeared deep in thought. “Does that mean we don't have much time?”

Your lie to Hongjoong was convenient at this moment. He never knew that your similar bad dreams about Hongjoong correlated with your heart and not the war. You didn't want either of them to know the truth.

“They're not violent yet,” You said hesitantly, “So there might still be time.”

“So you’re saying we need to start ensuring she shares a bed with one of us?” Seonghwa clarified towards Hongjoong.

You were almost at the door when Hongjoong snapped at you again. “You put one hand on that doorknob and I will have you on your back so fast you won’t know what happened,” Hongjoong growled at you.

There was the man that had been your Captain. You whipped around, feeling like a trapped animal at this moment. “I will push you so far into a dream that you won’t wake up until a century passes,” You snarled right back.

Seonghwa looked wary. “Can she do that?”

“Wanna find out?” You wet your lips, preparing for the spell that was on the tip of your tongue.

“Yes, Seonghwa, if she’s having violent dreams, she’s going to need some supervision,” Hongjoong opted to respond instead.

“Seonghwa can have one of his demon’s watch over me while I sleep,” You dismissed the notion immediately. You didn’t want that but you really didn’t need the alternative. The dreams were only going to get more violent if that happened.

Hongjoong’s wheels turned in his head and you didn’t like the way he was studying you. “You know for someone who was a part of the Intelligence Corp, you lie for shit, Lieutenant.”

“Well, excuse me for not wanting two men hovering over me like I’m a damsel in distress!”

“Lover…” Seonghwa looked wistful. “That’s not it.”

“Let her rage, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong shook his head. “Stubborn until the day she dreams forever, that’s the Lieutenant.”

Except Seonghwa never knew how to stop. Or maybe he did and refused to. Seonghwa always pushed until he was satisfied.

The director stepped up to your form, his lanky body slightly looming over you. He curved a hand fondly over the side of your face. “Why couldn't you breathe in your dream?”

“I would like some food now, please. Even if it’s not Wooyoung’s.” You refused to meet Seonghwa’s gaze.

“You’ll get fed when you answer the question,” Seonghwa insisted softly but firmly.

“Then I’ll starve,” You muttered. “Am I free to go now, General?” You said Hongjoong’s title like it was an insult.

“You’re dismissed, Mistress of Dreams,” Hongjoong said with a sharp jerk of his chin.

You ripped out of Seonghwa’s grasp and stomped down the stairs of the inn.

“Have a happy--?” San’s eyes wandered after you and stopped talking suddenly. “Seonghwa, when did you get here?”

“I don’t understand!” Seonghwa called after you as your heels clipped along the stones towards the school. “Why is that dream so important for you to not tell me the details?”

“Let it go, Seonghwa,” You shouted back.

For once, you wished you had Hongjoong’s speed.

“I won’t,” Seonghwa refused. “Why wouldn’t you tell me that your dreams could get violent like that?”

“It’s none of your damn business!” You refused to answer his questions.

“You, Mistress of Dreams, are starting to get on my nerves,” Seonghwa growled. “What do you mean it’s none of my business. I care about you!”

“That’s the problem!” You screeched. “Stop caring.”

“What’s wrong, Lover?” Seonghwa crooned. He practically stalked you, walking with his hands in his pockets, like you were prey and he a large cat. “Afraid you’ll catch feelings too?”

Not when that had already happened. “It’s annoying. It’s a weight I’d rather not carry.”

“Good thing I’m strong enough for the both of us then,” Seonghwa dismissed you within a moment's notice.

You were at your wits end. “No, Seonghwa, you are not strong enough for the two of us! You get hurt with every barbed phrase I send your way. You got jealous finding Hongjoong and I cuddling. You have left your heart open and vulnerable and it’s going to get ripped from your chest.”

“I get hurt but I can endure it! Because I--”

“You fucking say those words and I will resign!” You threatened.

That caused Seonghwa to actually pause. “You wouldn’t.”

“You have no idea how desperate I am right now,” You heaved.

Seonghwa’s face was stormy again. “It’s his fault isn’t it? He’s scarred your heart so badly that you don’t have room to heal. If I could go back in time and wring his scrawny little neck and steal you for myself--”

“Would you have killed me?” You interrupted him.

“...what?” Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Do you know how many of your comrades died because I ate their dreams and they never woke up? How do you know it wasn’t me that kept your beloved Captain in a dreamless state so that Hongjoong could kill her? I was integral to the war, Seonghwa. I could be dead at your hands if you had known who I was. Don’t speak of stupid what-if’s, they never help. I am in charge of my heart and I’m saying I don’t want you to have a piece of it.” You stared at Seonghwa as the sun filled the sky slowly but surely.

“Let me watch over you as you sleep, Dreameater” Seonghwa begged.

The nickname you had acquired from your enemies almost slapped you in the face. “You are fucking tiring,” You spat. “Leave me alone, Director.”

“You're… more angry today. More angry than normal. Please, tell me something. Anything,” Seonghwa begged.

You sighed heavily. If Seonghwa wasn’t going to leave you alone then… drastic times call for drastic measures.

You walked back towards where Seonghwa was standing behind you. You muttered the Chinese word for sleep, invoking the bedchamber goddess Chuángmǔ, and pressed two fingers to Seonghwa’s forehead.

“Wha..?” Seonghwa mumbled and then fell asleep where he stood.

You barely caught him before he slumped over, letting out a loud ‘oof’. “Could your shoulders be any broader?” You said to absolutely no one.

You invoked next the Celtic Goddess Cerridwen, using some Welsh to command Seonghwa to walk. You kept a step behind him in case he stumbled, but you intended to walk him right to his bedroom and leave him there until he woke up the next morning. Maybe you’d even stop by Mingi’s office and let him know the director was down with a bad headache for the day.

You steered Seonghwa all the way to his bed and it took but a slight push to his back and he collapsed onto his bed. You contemplate leaving him like that, just to make a point, but then that feeling of Nightmare Seonghwa suffocating you resurfaced and you shook your head. You did not need to be the reason that man died, despite the many times you had threatened him with it.

You climbed on the bed. You pushed and pulled to move the lanky man to his back, gasping and sweating at the labor.

You looked down to admire your progress and then felt a pang in your chest. Whether it was from the guilt of using your powers selfishly or from the view below you, that was uncertain. But you pushed a strand of Seonghwa's hair out of his face nonetheless.

Somehow, without his ability to smirk and poke at you, he seemed younger, and more innocent, as he laid there sleeping.

“Why must you be such a pushy, insufferable man?” You muttered to yourself.

Still, he was quite handsome, lying there, small puffs of air leaving those pink, plush lips.

You already have gone this far… Maybe it was worth taking one more step and seeing what Seonghwa was dreaming about? That way he'd take you more seriously and stop pushing you so much.

You closed your eyes, still straddling Seonghwa on his bed and simply stepped into the other plane that was your playground.

💭😴💤Inside Seonghwa’s dream💭😴💤

You couldn't help but stiffen as you took in the scene that you had opened your eyes to. You were well familiar with the layout of the Black Magic User’s encampment. The Dark tents that appeared more like a traveling circus than an army. You had been here many many times in many many dreams. But you had simply been an observer, not a participant. This time was different.

Goddamn it, Park Seonghwa, you thought to yourself.

You were in the tight, white uniform from your days in the civil war. You were ‘hanging’ in the air by the many demon hands Seonghwa had used on you before in his bedroom at Twilight Academy. You never actually supposed he used them on the enemy as a weapon--or a means of torture.

“Now, Lieutenant, I would like the answer to my question,” The Reaper purred as he stalked around you.

The white haired Director you had fallen into bed with was vastly different from the legend that Hongjoong had once defeated. This one had dark hair held in a bun at the top of his head. He sported the dark green uniform of the opposition. You had to admit, he still looked handsome in severe clothing. Perhaps the uniform was the reason he flaunted his fashion nowadays.

If you didn’t want Seonghwa to wake up, you now had to play into this fantasy. You sent a small prayer to Shai, the Egyptian god of fortune, to send good luck your way. You were going to need it.

You painted a bored expression on your face. “I drowned you out ages ago, what is it that you’ve been bothering me about?”

Seonghwa took a step closer in his shiny black boots. “Give up your Captain to me and this charade can come to a close.”

It took everything in you to not roll your eyes. Of course he would be dreaming of this.

“I’m loyal to The White Magic Users and to my Captain. You’ll never get me to turn, you despicable, high-handed, dirty--”

A demon hand suddenly clamped over your mouth, halting your plethora of negative adjectives. It didn’t surprise you that Seonghwa simply wanted to hear himself speak in his own dream. He often did that in the real world as well.

Seonghwa leaned in to whisper into your ear suggestively. “If you won’t willingly give up the information, I have other means of getting them.”

Goosebumps dotted your skin. You knew that Seonghwa would never harm you but this was a dream. There was a chance that Seonghwa could be so deep in his subconsciousness that he was reverting back to the days of the war. Perhaps--

“Means that I believe we will both enjoy,” Seonghwa continued.

His demon's hands began to simultaneously undo the buttons for your high neck jacket and pull up your tight skirt.

Oh god, you were trapped in a sex dream with The Reaper.

You struggled in your restraints but that only made Seonghwa smile amusedly. “Must you maintain the air that you don’t want this? Because I know you do.”

Seonghwa’s gloved hand moved to leisurely cup your mound and pressed against your hole through your underwear. When he brought his hand to his mouth and licked it, his smile bloomed into a grin. “See? Wet and ripe, just for me.”

Your muffled arguments dotted the air but Seonghwa deigned to keep the demon hand over your mouth. You had no one to curse but yourself, for being curious as to what exactly Seonghwa had been dreaming about. In your attempt to escape him and banish him to sleep you had effectively trapped yourself with him as well. You were an idiot.

The demon hands that had exposed you were now working on massaging both your breasts through your chemise under your jacket. You moaned against the demon hand still gagging you. Seonghwa’s eyes lit up at the sound.

“Pretty noises for me already, Dreameater? I think I will very much enjoy playing with you.”

You glared daggers at Seonghwa but that only seemed to make his pupils blow. He physically grabbed your face and turned it to the side so he could lick a long strip along your neck. He moaned wantonly at the taste of the anger on your skin. Some things never changed.

The reaper fell to his knees to lick and suck along the exposed skin of your stomach. He rolled his eyes upwards to look at you, as his tongue circumvented your belly button and moved lower. He nipped and sucked, making all kinds of marks on your skin.

The demon hands pulled and tweaked your nipples into stiff peaks through your chemise. You couldn't help but press your thighs together, looking to relieve some pressure that was building there. That did not escape the Reaper’s notice.

He clucked his tongue. “Now, we can’t have that. Do you need something, Lieutenant?”

Your lips pressed to a thin line even when the demon hand lifted from your face.. “I have nothing to say to you,” You insisted.

“No? That’s too bad,” Seonghwa said with pretend sympathy.

His lips jumped over your scrunched up skirt and then he groaned loudly when he pushed your thighs apart and pushed his face into your underwear.

“This is my favourite place to be,” He whispered to himself.

Why did this man have to be so obsessed with you? He made you want to break all the oaths you swore to yourself after the civil war ended. He wasn’t good for your heart.

You were pulled from your inner turmoil when Seonghwa ripped your underwear right off your body. “Look at how wet you are for me, Lieutenant. Is your Captain not satisfying you?”

You turned your nose upwards. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Seonghwa shook his head. “Ah, still stubborn as always. Lucky for me, I know how to get you to sing.”

Seonghwa’s voice went deep as he called on Freyr, and when you saw a boat drift upwards, you knew you were in deep shit. Seonghwa was using the spell he had originally cast on you, the one that turned pain into pleasure.

Still, you had to play into your role. “What kind of black magic curse did you just cast on me?” You growled as you struggled in the hold of the demon hands.

Seonghwa chuckled lowly and then bit into the flesh part of your thigh. You felt your lower half flood with desire and you whimpered at the pleasure one simple bite did for you.

“Did you like that?” Seonghwa crooned. “Did that make you clench down on nothing? I can help you with that. You just have to tell me exactly where your Captain is and I can make you feel so good.”

“Never,” You said through gritted teeth.

Thus started Seonghwa biting into every inch of your left thigh, leaving teeth marks everywhere. And when he ran out of flesh, he only moved to the other thigh. You were eventually panting and desperate, whining at the desire that was thrumming through your body.

His gloved hand ran along your folds, sweeping up any wetness that pooled there and then he sucked on his fingers. The motions did nothing for your desire for he didn’t enter your hole nor did he touch your clit.

“Don't you want my gloved fingers inside of you, lover?” Seonghwa continued to tempt you in a sing-song voice. “Don't you want my glorious tongue exploring your folds? I know they warned good little magic users about us. They did it for good reason. We will give into all your baser desires. All you have to do is give up your Captain, and he'll trade places with you. He can be tortured and tempted while I make sweet love to your body.”

“Seong--seonghwa,” You whimpered pathetically.

The Reaper stood tall in order to lean in so his ear was pressed up against your lips. “Tell me.”

You licked the shell of his ear and he shivered delicately from the motion. “Go. To. Hell,” You whispered.

Seonghwa let out a noise that was part laugh and part groan. “I thought I could break you. Oh well.”

Seonghwa’s voice went high and sweet as he called on Hermes. One second you were being held and groped by Seonghwa’s demon hands, and the next, you were in Seonghwa’s arms and Hongjoong was being held and groped by the demon hands.

Your eyes went wide at the view: the demon hands were pulling aside Hongjoong’s jacket only to grope and tug at his nipples. Another palmed him through his pants and massaged his balls. If Hongjoong appeared as an absolute wreck, then what was your fate?

“See, Lieutenant? See how he enjoys being tortured so? You needn't protect him from me. You were both made for me,” Seonghwa cooed as he pressed his cheek to yours, his stance behind you.

Is this truly what Seonghwa wanted? Or was it his guilty pleasure? His way to work through his trauma from the civil war? Unless you actually asked him, you wouldn't get an answer, and even so, you were pretty sure he wouldn't give you a straight one.

You turned in Seonghwa’s grasp, and whimpered, “Mercy. Please, clemency for us both.” You made two fists in Seonghwa’s uniform.

Seonghwa smoothed his hands over your fists, flattening them against his chest. He smiled so fondly down at you, that you had a hard time keeping his gaze. “You know I’d do anything for you, lover.”

The demon hands stopped their motions on Hongjoong and he whined. “What’s going on?”

Seonghwa smirked. “Your lieutenant has asked for clemency.”

Hongjoong’s form trembled. “I want more.”

Seonghwa cocked his head. “The question is, what do you want, Lieutenant?”

It was your turn to tremble in Seonghwa’s arms. You could let go just this once, right? Just for this dream, so that Seonghwa’s conscience wouldn’t figure out this wasn’t his dream version of you but the real you invading his dreams. “If Hongjoong--”

Seonghwa clucked his tongue in disappointment. “What did I just say?”

“Seonghwa.”

“Yes, Lover?”

“Please…?” Your mouth was dry and your heart beat to a rhythm that you were sure wasn’t good for you.

“What is it that you want?” Seonghwa purred.

“Please give us what we want.”

Seonghwa chuckled lowly. “Oh no, you’ll have to do much better than that.”

“Take me in front of Hongjoong and edge him with your demon hands,” You whispered.

Seonghwa shivered, you could feel it, from head to toe. “As you wish.”

Seonghwa turned you around, so that you could watch all the ways his demon hands were torturing Hongjoong. Hongjoong’s hips pushed against one hand that was fisting his cock. Another was behind him, fucking him full of demon fingers. Two hands massaged his chest, taking their time to flick his nipples when the time was right. Nothing muffled his cries, which was probably for the best, because the way that Hongjoong was panting with his tongue out had to be one of your favourite views of him.

They continued to molest your captain as Seonghwa plunged into you from behind. He kept one hand on your hip, keeping you in place so that he could fuck you, and then two fingers inside of your mouth. Your tongue swirled around his digits obediently. Your breasts bounced with each thrust into you.

“See, I told you that you two were meant for me,” Seonghwa growled. “See how wet you both are for me? Whining and wanting more. Brats, the both of you, needing to be put in your place. You two are mine and that’s how it will be.”

Hongjoong’s cries grew into a crescendo; high pitched and pretty, when Seonghwa’s demon hands halted their progress. His shoulders heaved and sweat dropped down his chest and off his face.

“Again,” Hongjoong said, his voice croaking.

The demon hands started back up again and Hongjoong moaned in relief.

Seonghwa removed his fingers from your mouth and pressed the wet digits to your clit. Then he bit into your shoulder. The triple stimulation of Seonghwa fucking you good, rubbing your clit and the bite was more than enough to bring you over the edge of destruction. You screamed his name as you spiraled into the pleasure zipping through your nerves.

The Reaper held himself inside of you and bit down even harder onto your shoulder, spurting inside of you. You would have screamed bloody murder if not for the reminder that you couldn't get pregnant, this was just a dream. His tongue lathed at his marks and he slowly thrusted through his high.

“What cute little white and black magic user babies we’ll make,” Seonghwa sighed.

Your view began to get cloudy, and the edge of the frame of the tent began to fall away like sand sifting down an opening. The dream was complete, and Seonghwa was regaining consciousness. Thank god, because you did not like where this was going. Why did he always bring up the babies?

💭😴💤Seonghwa’s Dream Done💭😴💤

The dream had ended and you were free. From the dream, at least. Seonghwa groaned when he woke up. A sleepy, happy smile pulled at his features when he felt your soft form against his. “Good morning, Lover.”

You mumbled nonsense and sat up.

Seonghwa’s eyes widened in alarm. “What exactly did we get up to that we are waking up in this state?”

You were fully dressed but straddling the director. You winced because you could feel the wet spot on your underwear where you had climaxed in Seonghwa’s dream. Seonghwa must be feeling a similar situation inside of his pants. You did your best to not wince guiltily.

“We were both tired after our… discussion. You suggested a calming nap and I agreed to such before classes started.” Completely avoiding the question of course. Did that bugger not remember his own dream? After everything you did to endure it?!

Seonghwa quirked an eyebrow at you. “A nap? In the morning? You?”

You avoided his gaze. “It was a peace offering after finding me in bed with Hongjoong. I wanted to show you that I could find comfort in your arms as well.”

That was not a lie you wanted to tell, or a seed you wanted to plant, but you knew Seonghwa would latch onto it.

You almost felt bad when Seonghwa’s face broke out into an even happier smile and then he was hugging you back down to his chest, the way he found you when he woke up. “Are you compromising for little ol’ me, Dreameater?”

“Pretty noises for me already, Dreameater? I think I will very much enjoy playing with you.”

A shudder ran through you, that memory of Seonghwa’s dream unable to be shaken from your mind. “Seonghwa,” You growled in warning.

Seonghwa laughed merrily and then kissed you on the crown of your head. “Let’s get cleaned up and ready for classes today.”

Seonghwa rolled you to your back and he stood up. His demon hands moved around, grabbing toiletries and a new outfit today. You had to remain lying on your back because even the damn demon hands were triggering.

What the hell did you just get yourself into now?

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Twilight Academy Taglist: @wooyoungqueen @babiestarrcandy @michael-angelhoe @smallfrye @park-simphwa @spooo00oky @novocainenoon

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yourprettylildoe · 2 months ago

Text

ℳ𝓊𝓇𝒹ℯ𝓇 ℳ𝓎𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓎

what if your favourite story became reality? And not just any story that you made, a murder.

Tears roll down your cheeks, a hand against your lips stifling your sobs as you stared up at all the evidence.

You didn't how to stop this madness.

❤︎

Landen stared up at the shelf in his room, smiling contently. Many books sat proudly on top, not even a scratch on their covers.

They all had one thing in common: your name written under the title.

That's right, you were the author of these murder mystery novels. People ate up your work, discussing online the twists and immaculate writing in them.

However, this guy inhaled them.

He studied them like there was no tomorrow, reread them: again, and again, and again. If somebody asked him to recite every detail, he would.

So now, Landen looked up as the news reporter popped up on the screen. "Breaking news — with murders happening left and right, safety is not guaranteed anymore. Yes, you named it, the killer is still on the loose. Yesterday, a body was found behind a movie theater. The man's features were beyond recognition as his face was..." the woman rambled on, describing the horrific scene. And Landen's smile was never wider.

He did a great job at perfecting your instructions.

The time, the method, the location, everything was flawless to the last detail.

"...however, do not fret. The police is doing everything they can to put an end to this. We advise you to take precautions and notify authorities immediately if anything suspicious is found."

The police can take their sweet time, he thought. After all, he did a very great job with covering up evidence. And even if they found out it was him, he had all the connections to silence anyone who dares to speak.

Now, the question remains.

Would you be proud of his work?

❤︎

Curled up on your living room floor, you cried your heart out.

This can't be real. This can't.

It all started when you opened up your computer and checked the news. At first, everythign was normal, until the descriptions of the incident were displayed.

Why were they similar to your stories?

You wish you didn't search up the rest of the murders.

Sitting there, in horror, your hands trembled and your head hurt. Everything was a carbon copy of what you published. What have you done? Why did you write those stories in the first place?

A voice in your head whispered that it's your fault, that you should've stuck to a fantasy or drama novel.

Clumsily, you reached for your phone, accidentally knocking down a glass of water. Glass shattered around you. Tears blurred your vision as you dial your good friend's number. The shards pricked your skin, droplets of blood dripping down on the carpet.

Ring.

Ri-

"Hello?" Landen's voice uttered softly.

You sobbed into your phone, "L-Lande-" hic "please, h-help me."

The concern was evident in his voice, "what's wrong?"

"Please, please, help me- I did something really bad. Please."

"Okay, okay, stay on the phone," you could hear the sound of an engine starting up on the other line. "Hang on."

❤︎

Landen finished bandaging yiur hands up, "there! All done!" A soft smile on his face. A blanket was draped around your shivering form, an occasional sniffle escaping you.

You had explained everything to him, crying and constantly repesting, "it's my fault."

Thanks to his eassurances that you were not the cause, you were now in a better state.

You whimpered, "what will we do, Landen? We can't let people do, especially because of what I wrote."

A sigh escaped his lips, "First of all, it's not because of you. You did what you loved, honey. Secondly, don't you worry, I'll hire someone to look into it."

That made you perk up, "will you really?"

He nodded.

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" You wrapped your arms around him. He laughed, returnign the hug.

Oh, you poor, poor thing.

Didn't you like his work? He didn't mean to make you cry.

❤︎

A month passed.

The killer hasn't been found, and you grew more anxious.

Landen promised that the detective he hired was doing rhe best he could.

In the meantime, people from everywhere accused you of the bloody crime, claiming that it was a scheme organised by you. However, Landen shut the claims down and stopped anyone from going near you. And you were eternally grateful.

So, now, you stood in front of his estate. The house was huge and luxurious, given his status.

The butler welcomed you, stating that Mr. Levine was expecting you.

Inside rhe house, a chandelier hung over your head and you were greeted by a large, marble staircase and to the right the large great room.

Thomas, the butler, said that Landen was upstairs but is on his way and instructed you to stay cozy while you waited.

You sat down on the plush couch, foot tapping against the floor as you cradle your handbag to your chest.

Minutes later, you got exhausted of waiting. You scanned the room before quickly ascending the staircase.

It was quiet on the second floor, and you heard the soft padding of your footsteps on the carpet.

"Landen!" You called out as you strolled around the west wing, "Landen?"

Upon opening a door, you're greeted with a large study. Documents were scattered over the large, brown office desk.

Curiosity got the best of you.

And you should've known that curiosity killed the cat.

Because as soon as you took a look at the book on the desk, you were greeted by descriptions of murders in your books. Details over details over details. Checkmarks next to each one. Planners, devoted to you.

Realisation dawned on you. This was no normal checklist.

You recoiled from the book as if it was a scorching fire. Backing away, tears fill uour eyes and you look arund. You need to get out.

"Y/n, where are you?" That familiar, haunting voice echoed in the hallway.

Oh, no.

❤︎

part 2 is up!

ty for reading <3

𝒴ℴ𝓊𝓇𝓈 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓁𝓎

@yourprettylildoe

#yandere #Writing #story #Original #mystery #yandere x reader #writing community #Original story

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oswincoleman · 3 years ago

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Jenna Coleman at the Galaxycon virtual comic con Q&A session yesterday

Apart from looking super cute, here are some of what Jenna said during the Q&A.

She seems to have been in the Cotswolds, where it was snowing at the time.

She was asked what she thought the scariest Doctor Who monster was. Once again, she mentioned that she thought the Whispermen were the scariest, but she forgot what they were called, again. "I've got a gold fish bowl brain".

When asked what evil Doctor Who character she would play, she first said that she would play the TARDIS as depicted in The Doctor's Wife. But upon realising that that isn't really evil (though technically Clara and the TARDIS didn't like each other, so perhaps it counts?), she instead said that she would like to play Missy!

Another question was where she would like to film any episode of Doctor Who, if she could choose literally anywere. She mentioned that she was jealous of Matt for having filmed in Venice (even though Matt's episode in Venice was actually filmed in Croatia, not in Venice), and then talked about filming Kill the Moon on Lanzarote. She mentioned how it was like being on a leash the whole time, as the orange space suits they were in had to constantly be cooled, so they kept having to go back to their chargers in between takes. When asked if she went to any other location for filming, she said that she couldn't remember any, but perhaps Swansea or London (she did go to Tenerife to film The Magician's Apprentice though).

When asked what she would do if she hadn't gone into acting, Jenna first said that she always liked casting, and that

"My agent is always shouting at me because I am casting everybody else all the time in everything she sends me"

She also mentioned being drawn to other artistic jobs like being a painter, photographer, or writer, that can take their work with them wherever they go. And last, but not least, she had one final idea of what she would do if she wouldn't be an actress:

"And if not, maybe an interior designer, I don't know. That is like a bit of a side hobby/addiction."

When asked about her favourite episode, she again answered with it being The Snowmen.

Her favourite prop to act with was the sonic screwdriver in Flatline.

And finally, her favourite flavour of crisps are Walkers, salt and vinegar, and Torres black truffle chips.

#jenna coleman #jenna louise coleman #galaxy con #q&a #virtual comic con #doctor who #clara oswald

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chris-evans-indian-fanfic · 5 years ago

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Across Seven Seas

Chapter 4

Description: This fanfiction series is set in the year 2022, after the horrid COVID-19 has finally come to an end. In this fanfiction, Chris Evans holidays with his family in India and meets Meera Shankar. The story explores their rollercoaster journey and raises a question, whether two people, from two contrasting backgrounds and cultures, can build their future together?

WE FINALLY FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENED WITH CHRIS IN THIS CHAPTER!

This series is Chris Evans x OFC with Chris Evans' family and friends having recurring appearances. Please find below a lot of Original Characters-

Meera Shankar - The female lead

Meera's Mother

Poppy - Meera's maternal grandmother

Rohan - Meera's elder brother who is 6 years older than her.

Ankur - Concierge of the Hotel Maple-Fawn in Mussoorie

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3

Chapter 5

FIND MORE CHAPTERS BY CLICKING ON MY BIO

P.S- India follows only one timezone.

P.P.S- All the photographs used in the chapters are of the real locations mentioned. I clicked these photographs on my vacation.

This is a work of fiction. The names of the hotels and companies have been changed to avoid copyright issues. Meera Shankar and her family is based on the author and her kin. No offense is intended.

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

...

Chapter 4

7th September, 1:50 pm - Dehradun-Mussoorie Road

Seated comfortably in 2 large SUVs, the Evans family was on its way to Maple-Fawn, where they were to spend the rest of their vacation in peace. While almost everyone was fast asleep, Chris was wide-awake, awestruck with the view as their cars drove on winding slopes of the mountain. His body was tired, but his eyes refused to shut, taking in every detail of the natural beauty.

When they finally reached the hotel, the cold air was cruelly nipping at them. Since Delhi had been extremely hot, they had decided to ditch the winter wear until after they reached Mussoorie. Basking in the warmth of their rooms, Chris couldn't help but marvel at the view from his room. The entire valley was sprawled beneath him, the hill-side dotted with lush green leaves.

There were mountains as far as his eyes could see, dark green set against the bright blue sky. This would be a good place to sketch, he thought, sitting on the chair in his bedroom balcony.

The rest of the day was uneventful for the family, with all of them tuckered out.

Same day, 5:30pm - Hotel Maple-Fawn

Bundled up in 2 sweaters, a jacket, skull cap and finally, a shawl to cover it all up, Meera finished her walk across the property. She now knew where the gym, yoga centre, gaming zone, library, swimming pool, dance club, spa and garden were located. She knew every exit, every corridor and passage. She was satisfied with the amount of fire extinguishers present and their ease of access. The hotel had various maps screwed into the walls, with clearly demarcated ways to the nearest exit and fire extinguishers.

Heading back to her room, she felt her phone vibrate. "Hey Ma, what happened?" she answered the call. "Where are you?" "Just taking a walk, coming back now." "YOU LEFT THE HOTEL?! ALONE?!" shouted her mother. "Ma, calm down, I did not leave the hotel. I was just taking a walk inside the hotel premises. I wanted to see their gym, swimming pool, gaming zone, spa..." "Oh okay okay, but you should have told me you are going na." "Have you checked your phone? I sent you a Whatsapp message when I left. You even received it," replied Meera. "Yes but that was a long time ago!" "It was only 20 minutes ago Ma!" said an indignant Meera, "It is not my fault that you panicked!" "I am your mother. I have every right to panic when I can't find my children." Reaching the lift to her portion of the hotel, Meera disconnected the call.

Conducting a thorough check of any premises had become somewhat of a habit for Meera. There had been too many instances where innocent people had been the victims of fires just because the building had not been upto code, or even if they were, then the people did not know where the exits were or how to use a fire extinguisher. She was not going to take any chances when it came to protecting her family.

Entering the shared bedroom, Meera's mother ran to hug her, "Where were you? Do you know how worried I was?" "Mom I had been gone for just 20 minutes. Can you please not be so clingy?" retorted Meera, dodging her mother. "I am a mother. Mothers are not clingy." "First of all," replied Meera, "A mother is a relation and being clingy is a personality trait, so yes, you can be both. And secondly, I told you where I am na, what is the need to be so hyper all the time?" "I worry Bala," her Mother said with concern, "Times are bad." "If the times are bad then..." "How is the rest of the hotel?" interrupted Poppy, ending their conversation. "It is great. They even have a small library here. Some of your favourite authors are available as well. There's Danielle Steel, Maeve Binchy and Babara Taylor Bradford." "Oo that's nice. Any books which we haven't read?" "I don't know which books you haven't read, but I will take you there whenever you want. I got this interesting book which talks about the history of Mussoorie and..." "Why is my phone hanging?" Poppy interrupted again, "Meera check and see what is wrong with my phone." Meera quietly sighed. Her grandmother had an annoying habit of interrupting people when they were talking about something she wasn't interested in. Clearing some of the junk from the phone, she handed it back to Poppy. "Aah now it's working properly," smiled Poppy.

Next day, 10am - Hotel Maple-Fawn

The restaurant where all the meals were served housed floor-to-ceiling windows which offered a beautiful view of the trees and overlooked the valley below.

The Evans family was already at the table next to the window, savoring the delicious breakfast. Scott suddenly stopped eating his omelette, his eyes squinting at something across the room. "Did you guys see that woman? She took a bowl of cornflakes and is eating them without milk! Why would she do that?" Carly and Lisa turned around while Shanna tried to crane her neck to look at the person. "Who are you talking about?" asked Shanna. "That woman in the skull cap! She's sitting at the table of 4, with 3 other people! The one who's wearing the bulky sweater and shawl!" "That's not a woman, that's a man," stated Carly, "I saw him walking around our wing yesterday. He was looking at all the fire extinguishers and the maps for some reason. I thought he worked with the hotel. What a weirdo." "I think that's a woman," contributed Lisa, "What do you think Chris?" "Not interested," came the reply.

Over the course of the next few days, members of the Evans family kept spotting the 'mystery person', either at the gaming zone, the library, restaurant or around the premises. Shanna swore she once heard the person and their voice sounded "Deep and gruff, just like a man's!" "Bullshit!" retorted Scott, "I saw her crouching on the gravel pathway yesterday. It's a she!" "Wait why was she crouching on the pathway for no reason? That is so weird!" commented Stella, Chris' 13-year-old niece. "Oh she was picking up some wrapper or plastic, I don't know I wasn't very close." "Then how are you sure it was she and not he?" argued Shanna.

The doorbell of their suite rang, putting a pause to the argument. The concierge, Ankur, was at the door. He informed them that the hotel was organising a horse-riding workshop for the next day and wanted to check if anyone would be interested to participate. "Sounds like fun," Scott wondered, "No! I cannot hear you complain about chafed thighs for the rest of the vacation," said Chris. After they politely refused, Ankur reminded Chris about the mediation program. "You have only visited one session sir, when we had you signed up for the entire duration of your stay. Did you not like the session?" "Oh no it was great. I... I just wanted to spend sometime with my family, you know?" "I understand sir. You can rejoin the program anytime you want. I will take your leave. Do let us know if there's anything we can do to serve you," and with that, Ankur left.

"I am sorry," apologized Carly, "I thought you might like the mediation program. Rishikesh is just a few hours away you know. We can go and spend the rest of our vacation there." "Please don't say that," replied Chris, "They have a nice teacher here. It's just that I have already heard and read everything that the guru was preaching. Plus it's so beautiful here. I want us to stay," Chris tried his best to sound convincing.

It wasn't that this vacation was a bad idea, the change of location and the absence of the hounding media had relieved some of the stress Chris had been facing. It was just that Chris felt like he didn't belong anywhere. Uptil now, for the better part of the vacation, he had stayed holed up in his room, either watching PicFlix or sitting in his balcony, with a blank notepad and pencil. There were days when his mind was flooded with thoughts and then there were times when he felt... numb. He sat in the cold, without a sweater or a jacket, just to feel the nip of the wind, which never really came. He felt like he was either running at top speed, or he had come to a full stop. When therapy had not worked for him, he had tried to speak to his family, but they were always supportive and just this once, just this once, he did not want them to be. He had fucked up, and he wanted a way to fix it. But how could he when he himself needed fixing?

Settling back in his room, with a glass of whisky, neat, he closed his eyes, to rewind everything that had happened, once again.

Post the COVID-19 nightmare, when the country had finally reopened and life had started to return to normalcy, Chris and his partners, Mark Kassen and Joe Kiani, had finally launched their civic engagement project A Starting Point (ASP). The launch had been successful, with Chris' devoted fans flocking to the website in the first few days. The concept had been quite simple, to get senators on one-minute videos to answer questions on topics related to education, trade policies, immigration and more. They had managed to get inputs and secure participation from politicians belonging to both the parties. It all worked fine for the first 2 months.

The third month came with its own set of issues. Many politicians started promoting their own agendas, instead of just explaining the existing policies. This led to a shortage of interview clips as Chris and his team refused to air such videos.

As time went on, politicians belonging to the same parties started giving different, contradicting information on the same topics. While some senators painted a pretty picture about a particular policy, others spoke against it. What added fuel to the fire was that the some of the news media had started reporting that Chris was causing friction in both the political parties through ASP, especially the Republican party. It also didn't help that Chris had been outspoken against the previous Republican President. Moreover, politicians who answered questions by ASP started changing their responses when they were asked the same questions by the media. They blamed Chris for somehow manipulating and changing their responses.

This had already started taking a toll on Chris' career. Award functions were reluctant to invite him to the ceremony, let alone nominate him for his roles. His box office collections had started seeing a decline. Even the media was increasingly writing negative stories about him, wondering whether America's blue-eyed hero is finally becoming the villian.

As months passed, an increased number of citizens were disgruntled by the lack of new videos and hence, lack of information on the site.

The final nail in ASP's coffin was Senator Yellowstone. One of the youngest senators to ever be elected, Senator Yellowstone was charming, intelligent and sharp. He understood the need for reforms in the governement and knew that change was inevitable in order for the country to progress. It was uncanny how Chris and Yellowstone agreed on multiple political issues. Both of them saw eye-to-eye when it came to the electoral college, voting and other issues. As a result, Yellowstone became one of the top contributors of ASP, always open to share a small video on the topics that mattered the most.

Chris would never forget the day when Yellowstone's rape scandal broke the news. He had been accused of rape and molestation by 43 teenagers. Apparently, as a part of his community outreach, Yellowstone ran a program wherein he would tutor and guide young females who would be interested to take part in politics in the near future. Chris had been impressed by the initiative and had supported Yellowstone. But, he did not know that Yellowstone was using the initiative as a front for his horrific crimes. That scandal destroyed Chris, professionally and personally. ASP finally shut down and all the studios cancelled their contracts with him. He was fired from his ongoing projects. While the court had acquitted Chris of all charges, the media still put him on trial everytime. He couldn't come to face the truth. He blamed himself for what happened to those poor girls. He could have been, should have been more careful in trusting people. But, Yellowstone's charm was such that he could charm the snake into shedding it's skin, and then sell it back to him.

Chris had publically apologized to all the victims and had discreetly offered to pay for their education. While some graciously accepted the offer, understanding that Chris had nothing to do with the scandal, a few others saw it as Chris' attempt to hide his 'alleged' involvement. They approached the media with this story and as expected, the next day his kind gesture was butchered, tainted as a 'cover-up fiasco' by the news outlets.

It had been a year since then. There were no new projects on Chris' desk. Most of the film industry was practising their distance, with only a few loyal friends sticking by his side. His social media accounts lay dormant. There were still a portion of his fans who stood by him, defending him on the internet, but there was a large number of people who even today thought he had to do something with the scandal and was to blame.

Everyday, his remorse ate him alive. Everyday, he felt himself slipping into the abyss and everyday, his motivation to try and reach out for help lessened. Everyday.

Chris' phone pulled him out of his reverie. He saw Scott's name on the screen, asking him to join the family for dinner. Chris looked at the untouched glass of whisky, deciding he was not hungry.

Not tonight.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chrisevans #chris evans x india #angst #chris evans angst #a starting point #chris evans family #chris evans fic #chris evans fandom #oc appreciation day 2020 #OCs Are People Too

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