#like the reality of your existence continues to haunt you & threatens to break through its confines♡

[betasuppe]

You know, I've never been happy with any Tron or Rinzler designs I've done... so I'm just trying again lol & starting with the sad boyo first uwu

Please accept this hurried & rushed mess as I try YET AGAIN to figure him outtttttt

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Yandere Vampire Girlfriend: Cressida Beauregard

Relationship: yandere fem monster x fem reader

As The World Caves In

You might’ve mistaken her for a haunting apparition had she not spoken your name with foulness embedded on her tongue.

Saying her name brought fear to your mind: fearful that she was indeed just a ghost, her ghastly appearance one you had not seen before from her. The shroud of nightfall gave her and the thin layer of her nightgown the appearance of mourning, mourning for you as if you were already gone from the world. Her usual long salt and pepper locks were always pinned up, now cascading like an angry veil of misery behind her, unbrushed and moving with a mind of its own. Her skin looked flushed, cheeks rouged as if life had been drawn back into her once again, except her eyes were the deceitful ones.

They were darkened and bloodshot, angry and glowing.

“You now plan to leave me, dearest?” She tried to remain level-headed, her usual calm demeanour a crashing reality. She was almost aloof, calm, now, a madwoman who didn’t seem to even recognise you.

You stepped away from the landing at the top of the stairs, taking in her slowly. She could pounce- even as far away as she was from you, and you didn’t wish to blink and miss it.

“You know I must go.”

“Why?”

“I don’t belong here!” Your voice faltered in a louder crescendo, vibrating through the rotting walls. “You have been a welcoming host to me, but I have overstayed my visit. I must return to where I was, back to where I belong.”

Cressida took your words quickly to heart, and her incessant ramblings proceeded: a droning cry of ‘no’ that ruptured straight through to your ribcage, growing madder and madder as if the word was cursed and she wished to break it.

She seemed to be crying some more, stepping closer to you, bare feet creeping against the old floorboards. Before you, one hand was outstretched, the other curved behind her back.

“You know I cannot live without you.” She half-wept, golden eyes seemingly unblinking as you gripped the handrail tighter. “What is existence without you by my side?”

“You lived a century and a half without me. You can continue with another more.”

Cressida’s eyes seemed half-dead by your statement; sunken and protruding through the hollow skin of her face, and again, she continued to step closer towards you, as enticing you to stay.

“I won’t let you leave—you cannot leave me.” Her voice was gravelly, a complete turn to the strain in her tearful pleas, pulling her other hand to reveal what was in her grip.

You could only laugh bitterly, “You wish to stab me now?”

The ruby dagger was shining in the dead of the night, as crimson as the blood she drank, flowing and rich, beckoning to be as close to your flesh as possible. Cressida only used that dagger when it was handy—to make herself look as powerful as possible when she was threatened.

“I only ask you again, dearest, stay with me. I could give you everything you ever wanted. Dresses, riches, the chance to live with me—to be like me. Forever.”

Your eyes glinted down from the blade up to her face, and she stood as if waiting for you to come to her.

You bit down on your tongue, not wanting to say the wrong thing, to curse her out and the very place she kept you held in. You could still feel the numbed-out marks that maimed your skin, across your shoulders and around the collar of your neck, months of agony that she had called signs of her love.

“You know I can’t accept this, all of the things you wish for me to have.” you sighed, picturing if things could’ve been different. Her large hanging portrait sat at the top of the stairs, decked regally in delicate ornaments and silks, a half, cheeky smile adorning her face for the painter.

Cressida’s face fell once more as if she was on the verge of either bursting into a fit of anger or a flurry of tears. There was something within her eyes that told you to run, hide from her and her hidden anguish and fury.

In a blur, she was in front of you, and you recoiled back in surprise, nearly tumbling back down the stairs you ascended. It had only been thanks to her for holding you back by the shoulders, shaking sense back into you.

Her eyes, her eyes were raging.

“I-I love you, I love you so much,” her voice broke at the end of her warbling, and you wished to have the courage to kiss her face all over, to reassure her and apologise for upsetting her, but it pained you more to be having her to say those words back.

“I love you too.”

It had come to you as a surprise when something knocked itself into you, almost winding you between your ribs. You recoiled back once more, words garbled in a silent gasp, but Cressida had cradled you when you crumpled, whispering those same words again, over and over again.

The sting was powerful and drew no words to you, black spots clouding your vision as you stared and stared up at the ceiling, blinking away the tears.

“I love you so much, dearest. Don’t ever forget it.”

[remsmoonlight]

— title : help me

— word count : 2.1 k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : you’re not the only one who can feel yourself falling apart, but other things come to light in the mean time

— warnings : brief mentions of death, minor swearing, lack of self care

Had it not been for the fact that you know the world has ended, you could almost find yourself beginning to allow for a sense of tranquility to alleviate the constant threat of anxiety that creeps up on you almost daily. Normality was not a guarantee anymore, it was a rare prize that the group finds itself sometimes able to create even a jagged fragment of.. something you find yourself gripping onto with an unyielding strength, as if you could force it into reality.

The appealing picture is punctured as you spot some movement out of your peripheral vision, your gun is raised in the direction, an inaudible laugh is released as you try to find humour in your paranoia. Even protected by steel fences and concrete walls, you can’t find yourself believing that this prison is now your home, your sanctuary that protects you from the horrors from the outside that constantly threaten to overwhelm the grimy paradise your family had built.

Nothing out of the ordinary has occurred the entire time since you had been awoken to take watch, just a few stray walkers and animals, nothing that would warrant a bullet in them to draw every other living thing for miles to the prison. You find the cool mist that blankets the green fields welcome, something to keep you grounded before your mind wanders off to all that has been brutally torn from your soul, piece by agonising piece. The fog acts as miniscule needles, poking and prodding against your reddened cheeks.

A rustle pulls your attention to the small room of the tower, Daryl had been one to volunteer to take watch with you that night. Something about him conjured the most perplexing yet fond feelings of affection rooted within the centre of you, sometimes you think that there may be something yet sometimes you are sure he was sending signals that there is nothing. Ghost of minor grazes against your skin that had been seared into place, yet were so easily covered as if they had never existed.

Daryl Dixon is one confusing man.

“ no one taking over yet? “

You shake your head at Daryl, a few strands of hair are horridly disloyal to their place and tumble in front of your vision, that is hurriedly rectified as it throws you off balance. Sometimes you had no idea how to behave in front of him, it’s something you wish to confront as you know you cannot continue this way.. especially as tomorrow is never and has never been a guarantee, clearing the air is the only answer.

“ um, not yet. it’s still early though. “ you reply, a latent tremblant that almost completely breaks into your tone, the anxiety you had when you dedicate thoughts to your family going out tries to haunt you like a spirit would. You have already lost so much from the simple things.

“ they better move their asses soon. “

Of course, you have been relieved from watch duty and before you have even thought about breakfast you’re already hauling your heavy limbs to your cell.

Your eyes scan the room to find what you need, a backpack that is shrouded by the intense gloom and darkness that dominates the cramped room filled to the brim with an infinite amount of blemishes from top to bottom. You know that many happy memories do not occupy the room, let alone the building.. but it’s something you intend on changing. You move swiftly to pack it with all the supplies, your mind conjuring scenarios from nothing and every single one more horrifying than the other.. the drive to protect your heart from any more loss is the central force moving you to fill its empty space.

“ the hell you doin’ there? “

The abruptness of the voice sends your pulse skipping, not expecting anyone to bother you so soon.

“ I can’t sit here while they go out there. “ you don’t turn to look at Daryl, you already know the expression that is dyed so densely as he watches your crouched form. “ i tried, but i have to go.. i have to make sure they’re okay. “

“ you don’t trust ‘em? “ asks Daryl, he’d noticed your strange behaviour, he’d not said anything to anyone but the concern he feels is beginning to take on a life of its own. Knowing he would have to share with Rick if you become worse, it’s not something that he wants to do but if it brings some peace to your troubled mind he would.

“ no -- it’s not that! I just.. “

Daryl emits a scoff, he doesn’t mean to be so cold with his demeanour, but divulging anger and rage when he cares is all he knows. His upbringing created a perfect fusion of uncertainty, fear and suffering. One that blends into such a perfect mixture that any time he has to confront an intense situation, all that is expressed is a fire that burns anyone in its path. It’s taken time to be able express himself in healthier ways, but sometimes he finds himself fleeing to the same old habits.

“ what? ‘cause you’re gonna keep on going out there and it’s gonna get ‘ya killed! “

“ you don’t get it. “

Daryl barges his way through the empty doorway, before you even realise it the backpack that had been held firmly in your hand now lingers at your side, an emptiness that your grasp finds itself itching to rip back to its former place. You have your mind set in stone that you need to protect them, you can’t lose another person, the last time you had missed one.. it didn’t turn out so well, and you lost a friend. It was a pain that had your heart feeling as if it was being compressed under an unbearable weight, it’s a childish whim that refuses to back down. The urge to protect clouds everything you see, knowing that if you are there, then you have done everything in your power to ensure that life keeps on going, even if it limps pathetically along.

“ y’think I’m some sorta dumbass? that it? “

“ no! I just -- “ you can feel your entire being beginning to heat up from the pent up fear and frustration that have been building block upon block that is so close to tumbling down in a chaotic fashion. Your fingers move up to clench strands of your hair in exasperation, the phantom pain from your grip enough to prevent yourself from spilling over.

“ y’just what? huh? “ Daryl moves closer towards you, you can see that he wants to say more, to do more.. his eyes speak volumes, they say much more than his mouth does.

The aches that Daryl can feel within him never fade, they never dull, not when he can see what has been occupying your mind is causing a dramatic shift in you. He doesn’t know how to approach the subject, tender conversations have never been his forte.. and the fact that it’s.. well, you. He can’t pinpoint when he began to notice you more and more, but the thought of harm befalling you is something that sends ice through his veins. He doesn’t want to be in a world where he would never see you every day.

“ if I was there.. then maybe, I don’t know. I could have done something. “

Silence is thick, as thick as the dust that still continues to haunt the floors of the cells, no matter how much they are cleaned and wiped away. You can’t wipe away the horrors as easily as dirt.

You turn to face him, you slowly lift yourself as an unwavering tenseness lines every inch of your limbs. It sounded silly now that you have admitted it to another human being, but it is still real and it’s still how you feel.

“ what? y’think you can take on a horde of walkers? it was a suicide mission and they knew it. “

“ how can you be so careless? “ you ask him, a horrified expression staining your expression.

“ I’m seein’ you go down the same road, I ain’t gonna be part of that. you keep goin’ like this, it’s gonna kill ‘ya. “

The words run circles in your mind, a marathon that feels as if it will have no end. It explains his behaviour towards you, the warmth you receive one moment and the sudden shift to a numbing chill that felt as if you were no more than strangers. You hate that to be able to get information from him, you have to be arguing, it’s not something that can be allowed to continue.

“ tell me why. “ a demand comes from you, your voice sounding the most steady and enduring since the argument began. You sigh, feeling defeated. You hate the bubbling concoction of negative emotions that are brewing more and more from the exchange.

“ ain’t hard to figure out. “ Daryl has directed his attention to the floor, unable to meet your sight. He doesn’t want to see what is written on your face, his mind bolting to the worst possible explanation as it always does.

Moving towards what could only be described as a pitiful form of a bed, you drop yourself roughly onto the raggedy mattress and pat the space next to you. Your eyes follow him as he contemplates his next movement, if he decides to move toward you to forgo it all and pretend as if what you had just spoken about had not existed.

Luckily for you, he situates himself on the far side, his hands only slightly fidgeting as he waits for you to speak. It has to be you.

“ Daryl, why don’t you want me to go? “

“ I can’t see ‘ya get killed, just can’t. “

Before you even can truly comprehend what it is you’re doing, you inch a pinky finger towards the hand that lays resting dormantly at his side and allow it to curl into one of his own. The tenderness of the moment is not missed by either of you, both of you not knowing how to proceed. Daryl wasn’t used to being shown such softness in this context, he wants to hate it.. To squeeze the life from the feelings that it evokes, but he can’t. He doesn’t want to.

“ Daryl.. is there something there, or am I imagining it? “

“ y’aint goin’ crazy. “ he acknowledges, providing the spark that alights a bright burning hope within you.

“ is this why you don’t want me on the run? “ you inquire as a grimace comes flooding onto your face, your knees jumping as you struggle to contain your energy.

“ shit -- you look like you’re about to drop everytime I see ‘ya. “

As you battle yourself to contain the upturning of your lips, you shuffle closer to him. You felt the exhaustion every day threatening your entire being, you truly had no idea how you have not yet succumbed to it. Days at the prison are never easy, there’s always something to do and that work is nothing less than formidable and punishing on the human body.

He cares about me, you think to yourself timidly.

You take care in slowly leaning your chin on his shoulder and bringing a hand to rest on his back. Waiting for a signal to do otherwise, a rejection.. but it doesn’t come. It’s allowed, something you joyfully see as progress. You allow yourself to take in the comfort from the simple gesture, sorely missing having even the simple solaces that bring a much needed warming glow in the pit of your stomach. It hurts that he doesn’t even know how important he is to everyone, but more so to you.

“ Daryl, this isn’t something I can just kick. It’s not that easy. “

“ not somethin’ I’m asking. you need t’take care of y’self. “

Before your mind even registers it, you can feel a small weight on your free hand that lays dormantly on your hand. His thumb is drawn back and forth on yours, the patterns bringing a sense of soothing to you that had not blessed you in what felt like an eternity.

“ well.. maybe you can help me? “

There’s a hesitancy that the two of you can recognise, you wish with your whole soul that you could be stronger in asking. You’ve tried and tried to rid the negativity from within you, but every time you think you have, it comes back stronger than ever. More and more resistant than it was previously, its claws drawing more blood from you as it secures its hold in a much more impressive manner.

“ ain’t even gotta ask. “

[ufonaut]

Are there things you cannot possibly explain? Are strange things happening to you? These four may be your last hope!

The Challengers of the Unknown section on the DC Comics website from July 1997.

Transcripts under the cut:

INTRO:

Step into The Light...

CHALLENGERS OF THE UNKNOWN

The scene: A jumbo jetliner crashes in the Rockies. In the aftermath, four lone survivors pull themselves from the wreckage and are instantly transfixed by a mysterious bright light bathing the disaster site. The light, growing brighter and brighter by the second, "sings" to them, envelops them, until it is all... until it is everything!

After the accident, race car driver Clay Brody, theoretical physicist Brenda Ruskin, game designer Kenn Kawa, and pilot Marlon Corbet go back to their lives - lives which now seem shallow and unreal. In the weeks that follow the strange occurrence, each is haunted by recurring dreams of the crash and its aftermath, blindly unaware of the changes that have taken place - altering their lives forever!

The four are unexpectedly reunited by Sands, an elderly gentleman with a very special power: the ability to recognize others who have also been touched by The Light. The mysterious benefactor makes them an intriguing offer: If they agree to band together to continue his work, he'll fund them, give them access to information he's gathered over the years, and help them develop their newfound powers. This could be the turning point.. the moment they've been waiting for: to seek the truth, explore the unexplainable... to challenge the unknown!

---

BRENDA RUSKIN:

Flamboyant in style, Ruskin is deeply passionate about her career and most other things in her life. Easily the smartest of the Challengers, she became one of the youngest theoretical physicist in history, working out the mysteries of quarks and dark matter, and her nerve and straightforwardness put her in demand on the lecture circuit. Her love life is less successful, and whereas Brody has no relationships, she has too many of them, with old boyfriends tending to pop up at the worst possible times. Her romances tend to be short-fused and burn out rapidly.

While she has no surviving family, she's ardent both in theorizing about the unknown and in placing those theories in the context of existing scientific knowledge, to make the unknown understandable, though she has a more liberal definition of understandable than most. Her innate empathy with technology seems somehow stronger since the incident that created the Challengers, but it doesn't unsettle her.

An only child pushed to excellence by parents at the expense of friends, Ruskin seeks companionship as much as knowledge from the Challengers. But the one she feels closest to is Kenn. Though she's serious about being friends with all of them; she's almost always at odds with Corbett, and finds Brody alternately arrogant and smothering, as if he can't believe she can take care of herself. Sparks of all kinds occasionally fly between her and all members of the group. She just loves the adventure and the sheer "unintellectuality" of the whole thing.

---

MARLON CORBETT:

Pilot, from Denver, CO. Marlon comes from a middle-class background with strong family values, including strong but not overbearing, traditional religious beliefs and a liberal political tradition. Though the urge that drove him to fly was to find something beyond all that.

Following a liberal arts college education, Corbett enlisted in the air force, and later became a civilian pilot. His family is large, supportive and tightly knit, he's probably the most eager of all the Challengers to dig into their mission, and easily the most lighthearted.

Of the four of them, Corbett has the most to lose by his involvement in the Challengers. His family and fiancee, (who's threatening to end their engagement), don't understand his involvement with "the occult" along with his willingness to abandon his job, and he's not even certain he understands it himself. The situation becomes a test of his family's strength.

Marlon has been troubled by unsettling dreams since the incident that created the Challengers. He disregards the feelings until he meets Sands and realizes they are all changed.

Because he has the strongest family life of the four of them, he is both the most supportive member of the group and apparently the most tenuous, since he has a life elsewhere. But he's tied to the group by the desire to be something more than what he has been, to not be just a member of his family or of a nondescript flight crew, but to stand out, to prove himself. the most easygoing of the group, he openly likes everyone, rising above their petty squabbles and frequently providing the viewpoint that lets the rest of the group rise above them, too.

His natural charm makes him a good front man for the group when they have to deal with the public or smooth the ruffled features of officials.

---

KENN KAWA:

The hardest to pigeonhole of all the Challengers, Kawa designs role-playing games for a living, and enjoys his skill at "playing" widely diverse characters. A firm believer in believing, his beliefs are equally mutable, tending toward wilder concepts; one week he'll espouse psychic surgery, the next primal scream therapy, the next Zen meditation. His family offers no clue to his true nature: his parents divorced, they and his sister are scattered across the globe, and he rarely sees them, though they exchange the usual birthday and holiday cards.

Unknown to anyone, he has an ex-wife and child, but prefers to keep them away from this part of his life. Kawa meanders through relationships with women, who tend to remain his friend rather than angry ex-lovers when he breaks up with them. But Kawa has constants: loyalty, an active practical imagination, an eye for details, a zest for new possibilities - and the ability to keep a secret.

Certain aspects of his fluid character are affecting his everyday life since the incident that created the Challengers, but he welcomes it, embracing anything new as a positive change in his being. Kawa enjoys periodically changing the direction of his life, so the Challengers come at the right time for him. There's little malicious about Kawa, but he delights in testing, seeing how far things can be pushed before he has to go a different way, and this is his chance to test reality. He "tests" his fellow Challengers as well, constantly challenging their preconceptions; he's the most open to the unknown of all of them. He particularly pushes Ruskin's buttons, triggered by her hot temper and her subtle claims to intellectual superiority, but underneath it all they enjoy each others company.

---

CLAY BRODY:

Race car driver, from Pikeville KY. Coming from a coal mining family, Brody is solid and dependable, but his childhood also left him with a taste for risk, and beating it. His father is dead, his mother and his three sisters have never left KY; and since a wild period in his teens when they wrote him off as bad, he hasn't dealt with any of them.

He's very methodological, believing only in what he can see, feel, plan or strategize. Even following his encounter with The Light, Brody resists acceptance of the paranormal and particularly of the spiritual, viewing everything with a skeptical, grounded eye. But, even he cannot deny that his experience during the incident that created the Challengers has changed him, and that change frightens him the more he understands it. Until he meets Sands, and learns the others have been similarly changed, he thinks he's going crazy.

While pleasant enough toward the others, and far from hostile, Brody is guarded around them, determined to find rational explanations for what they investigate, to ground the group in what he perceives as reality. In many ways, he's their anchor. He stays with the Challengers due to a secret need for a family he never really had, but learned behavior with his own family gets in the way. What the others mistake for occasional arrogance is actually shyness. He's rarely without black driving gloves, not really for his image, he wears them to guard himself from... something.

[theparanormalperiodical]

The True Story Behind The Ring (2002) And The 11 Real Cursed Videotapes And Films That You Should NOT Watch

As a paranormal blogger, I often find myself treading the line between honesty and hoaxes. 

It could be the photographic evidence behind a ghost story, or it could be the claims of those that have supposedly witnessed something unexplainable - I spend most of my time trying to work out what's real with a capital ‘R’.

But if there’s one thing I can always rely on, it’s this:

The Japanese know how to make horror films. 

Sure, each corner of the world brings its own flair to the genre, but it’s a very specific aesthetic that runs like a piece of thread through Japanese horror, weaving together the cloak of Asian horror. 

And it was the British winter weather that reminded me of this aesthetic (and had me emotionally prepared to see a clump of black hair snake around my hand and upvote a Teen Mom 2 meme on Reddit).

So, in true Paranormal Periodical fashion, I’ve decided to dig deep into the reality of a horror icon native to Japan:

Samara, the creepy-ass chick from The Ring (2002).

Check out the trailer to her cinematic debut here!

But the thing is, the true story behind one of the most famous horror movies of all time goes much further than any ol’ cursed videotape.

Turns out that Samara’s life - and afterlife - is based on a very real story, and a very real set of ghosts that Japanese culture cannot get enough of.

Yep.

This means that there’s twice as much chance that The Ring is based on a true story than any other horror film. Great.

So, for all of the readers that haven’t hidden under their duvet, this article is going to be summarising the true story behind Samara, the Japanese folklore of the Yurei (imagine multiple Samaras just, like, existing all at the same time), and all of the cursed videos that bring us uncomfortably close to the plotline of The Ring. 

And if that wasn’t enough to traumatise you, I’ve even included all of the cursed horror films you need to know about!

Why? ‘Cause fuck you. 

If I’m going down, you’re going down with me. 

Now, let’s get spooky.

First, Let’s Recap Samara’s Screen Time (The Ring Movies And The Ring Novel Series)

Our story starts in 1991.

We are in Tokyo. News breaks that four teenagers have died on exactly the same night at exactly the same time. A journalist piques interest in this suspicious occurrence, and winds up in a holiday resort where they stayed a week before their mysterious deaths. 

When he’s not shacked up on the beach and living his Love Island fantasy, he discovers a videotape has been left in the room. This tape contains a set of weird-ass images and a warning appears which basically says:

“You gon’ die in seven days. If y’all don’t wanna die in 7 days do thi-”

An advert cuts off the instructions. (So, just like Love Island, then?)

This plotline sounds familiar, doesn’t it? That’s ‘cause it gets repeated in every novel and every film. But that’s not to say that this saga slacks story-wise. 

In the first novel, the investigations lead the journalist to the story of Sadako. Turns out that she was the daughter of Shizuko Yamamura, a medium who was branded a charlatan. Shizuko committed suicide by throwing herself in the crater of Mount Mihara as a result of her disdain by the world around her, but the fate of Sadako was declared unknown. 

The journalist follows the trail back to a well. And at the bottom of this well? What’s left of Sadako. 

Firmly believing that a proper burial will restore peace to Sadako’s ghost, he believes that laying her body to rest has fulfilled the duty expected of the viewer before the Flat Tummy Tea advert cropped off how to stop her.

But fit with the surprise ending that kills a sidekick of the journalist, we discover that copying the videotape is what spares the watcher of the tape from Sadako’s curse. 

Sadako doesn’t want to be laid to rest - she wants the world to know of her suffering and thus by copying the video and showing it to someone, more people will know.

Swap out a couple Japanese destinations for Seattle inspired locations, and we end up with The Ring (2002) - the American film. 

Still with me? 

Good. Because this is where the Japanese story and the American films diverge:

The American films go off-piece, either churning out this same plot, or go deeper into Samara’s past. This includes seeking out her mother and the child of the journalist being possessed by Samara. 

The Japanese, however, shake off such a simple plot and stick to the novels.

Spiral (1995) is the sequel to the first book, from which it is deduced that a tumour is what kills the victims of Sadako. The tumour forms in the throat, and then blocks the airway when the 7 days are up. This tumour is transferred from the tape to the body via an organism known as the Ring Virus.  

Investigations continue, questions go unanswered, and then the virus mutates and uses a report on this case to become a medium to transfer the curse to the reader. Some bloke reads it, and begins to think of Sadako and the well. He follows these thoughts to the well, and meets a girl called Masako.

They zig-a-ziga, and he discovers that Masako is actually Sadako.

Oh, and she’s up the duff.

Sadako then makes him publish the files that are essentially now the tape.

The rest of the book series sticks to the growing spread of the virus, and includes a supercomputer project, someone giving birth to Sadako… The Americans only went so far as someone sending a video clip to her next victim!

Yet despite the escalating Japanese side of things, there is something that I need to mention to bring out yet another component of Sadako’s uncomfortably realistic story:

It’s her tragic death. 

Having fled to Hakone - the site of the well she died in - to visit her father in hospital, she is raped by a doctor. She defends herself with her psychic powers, but once she is strangled, she is incapacitated and cannot fight back. She is then thrown (still alive) into the well. 

Nevertheless, the premise is still clear - and uncomfortably accurate to Japanese folklore and the true story inspiring this set of novels and films.

*Runs away*

The True Story Behind Samara 

Now it’s time to discuss the woman of the well herself.

Samara, or Sadako, is the leading lass of these films and novels, and is known for her mop of tangled black hair, her debut appearance in the creepiest cursed video tape known to mankind, and desire for the world to know her name!

(I’m telling you, this whole saga could just be a metaphor for Love Island.) 

But it turns out that this tale is based on a similarly tragic set of events taking place 700 years ago:

It is claimed that a woman named Okiku worked in the dungeon of Himeji castle, and was the servant to a samurai. Among her tasks was looking after a set of 10 golden plates. 

In true rom-com fashion, the samurai fell in love with her, and wanted to leave his wife for Okiku. However, in true patriarchy fashion, when she declined his advances he blackmailed her by hiding one of the golden plates and threatening to tell the authorities that she had stolen it.

We are uncertain of the exact events following this, but we know that she either committed suicide by throwing herself in the well, or was murdered by the samurai and then thrown in the well.

Either way she ended up in a well.  And this well actually exists…

(Note the iron bars covering the well. To keep her contained, perhaps?)

Well, I say ended up - Okiku made a point of revisiting the samurai after her death. She would haunt him by crawling out of the well each and every night, and would make a point of counting the golden plates. When she found once was missing, she would scream and throw a fit of rage. 

If that story wasn’t similar enough to the theatrical version of events, then Okiku’s portrayal as a yurei will be sure to send a shiver down your spine...

The Yurei

Okiku is far from alone in her ventures in the afterlife. In fact, a whole branch of Japanese ghosts bare similarities to her existence.

And they are known as yurei.

Take a look at this gif of Samara:

A dark mop of wet, let down hair. A white, flowing dress. Arms outstretched and hands limp.

These are all core traits shared by this #squad of spirits.

The japanese word translates to ‘faint soul’ or ‘dim spirit’, but the main focus of the yurei is actually their burial and afterlife.

Women are buried in Japan in white flowing dresses and have their hair down, hence this aesthetic crossing over to the other plain of existence. Unfortunately, the plain of existence they reach is far from the heavens expected:

The yurei are spirits who are kept from a peaceful afterlife, thanks to the unfortunate nature of their deaths. The yurei are ghosts which have died under unnatural circumstances - think traumatic deaths or having no official rites to bless than during their final moments. Oh, and you can’t forget the burden of jealous feelings and the desire for vengeance! 

“So, is sharing round their tragic stories like Samara’s the way to cleanse this spirit?”

Nah. 

Performing the rites or resolving the circumstances of their desire for vengeance or their unfinished business typically does the trick.

In fact, letting the ghost have intimate relations with an intended lover is a very popular method of de-yureing your life. 

Not willing to shag a spirit?

(Of all the sentences I thought I’d say on this blog, that is definitely not one of them.)

I’m afraid you’re going to have to let the yurei carry out their final actions forever…and ever… and ever…

So, we know what yurei are - but is Okiku the only recorded case of one?

Nope!

In fact, she’s one of three famous yurei that are repeatedly portrayed in theatrical and cinematic productions. Otsuya and Oiwa make up the rest of the trio, but unfortunately I can only find Oiwa’s story. 

Well, the terrifying part, that is: anyone that portrays her in a film or at the theatre is sure to be haunted by her!

Currently freaked the fuck out? Here’s how you can spot if you are being haunted by a yurei:

Their appearance is often what gives them away. Aside from the white dress, the hair style is actually key to their aesthetic. It is believed that Japanese women often wore their hair pinned up during their life, and thus had it down for their burial. That or the characters portraying yurei at the theatre would wear wigs, giving the appearance of a cloak of long hair. 

Speaking of the white dress, yureis wore white kimonos as this was the symbol of purity, again the traditional garb of buried Japanese women. They would also wear a small piece of cloth to cover their forehead.

(Perhaps explaining why Samara draped her forward and covered her face - and thus her forehead, too.)

“So, they just look like women that have been buried?”

Nearly - they are often seen hovering above the ground, with wisps of colour coming off of their bodies. Also known as hitodemon, these often stick to the colour palette of greens, blues and purples.

These colours feature heavily in the American Ring films. 

The Real Cursed Videos You Seriously Shouldn’t Watch  

Aside from Samara’s #aesthetic, the main feature of both the novel series and the films is that of the cursed video tape.

Bearing a similarity to a student film from an edgy undergrad, it contains a mix of abstract and hyper-realistic images bound to unsettle the watcher - all set to a soundtrack of high pitched noises.

The tape contains traces of Samara’s life, and is intended to leave a mark on the watcher to encourage them to make the world know of her pain. But being creeped out isn’t the only effect of this tape. Over the week prior to their deadline, weird effects in photographs, bite marks and other physical afflictions are also noted. It's these mental and physical effects that give the real life cursed videos lingering on the net their ‘cursed’ label.

Unfortunately, these effects tend to be much more drastic than those envisaged in The Ring.

*sigh*

#1 - suicidemouse.avi

Mickey Mouse is one of the most iconic cartoon characters to date. His lovable charm and his adorable voice make him the extrovert of the age! However, this video might make you regard the frontman of Disney in a different light.

This video - which first appeared on 4chan - sees a sad looking Mickey walk through a dark, grey city, with hands behind his back. 

Things take a turn, however, when a series of creep-AF things go down.

The screen goes blank for a couple of minutes. The piano music stops. The music comes back on. Screams are heard. The music gets fucked up. The buildings around him crumble. He wears an uncomfortable grin as the city falls apart. Mickey collapses with a syringe in his hand. 

The final shot shows a blurry logo for the cartoon character, and Russian text appears. It reads:

“The sights of hell bring its viewers back in.”

It is claimed that after a single watch you will experience panic attacks and suicidal thoughts. 

Could it have simply come from a troll on the web? Potentially. But the urban legend follows a much darker tale, claiming film critic Leonard Maltin was reviewing old cartoons that would be brought into a compilation when he saw this one. He voted it out immediately, and actually left the room thanks to the video.

But it is also claimed her kept a version for his own records.

Oh! And it gets worse!

The original editor was supposedly driven to insanity having watched it, stealing a security guard’s gun and shooting himself having yelled “Real suffering is not known!”.

Yeah, fuck this shit.

#2 - The Japanese Kleenex Advert (1980s?)

The Japanese film industry makes yet another feature on this list, and once again, it's the traumatising stuff that puts them on the map. 

The advert shows a woman sitting next to a baby painted as a red ogre who sits on a pile of straw. If that wasn’t weird enough, music with the innovative lyrics “die” in German repeatedly being chanted is the soundtrack to this freaky advert. 

Well, depending on the time of day, that is. The soundtrack would alter depending on when it was viewed. 

Viewers also noted an unsettling feeling whilst watching the advert, some even complained of sudden intense suicidal thoughts. The advert was quickly pulled from air thanks to the complaints, but not before it could take its toll on the creators of the advert.

Unexplainable accidents and a series of mental health issues plagued the creators of the film, leaving both viewers and producers haunted. The baby in the video? Killed in a car crash. The actress in the video? Hung herself in a mental hospital.

#4 - The Grifter

Potentially the scariest video on this list, the Grifter is a collage of images and clips relating to human torture, sacrifice and a variety of other gruesome scenes. Splash on some unsettling music and you have yourself a 4chan icon!

The thing is, only screenshots have been shared of this video. All we know is based on the whispers and wonders of the internet pit that is this website. This includes a clip of a rotting plant with the words “Your race is the one dying”, writhing maggots, paintings melting, flashing colours, random forests, text in different languages...

“Hold up - doesn’t this sound like all supposedly cursed videos?”

The images of a very realistic looking baby/doll set this apart from the other videos (dis)gracing this list. Well, that and the supposed subliminal messages people claim to be lingering on the frequencies in the music.

A very clear message is laid out to viewers, however, when a voice says:

“This child (now a young man) is still alive and lives in a local shelter whose name was not given. He never spoke, and still is katatonie [sic].”

We then once again return to the parallels with the other videos:

Negative physical effects and internal afflictions are frequently noted by viewers; sudden nosebleeds, nightmares, hallucinations, depression and suicidal thoughts haunt anyone who dares watch.

Fancy clickin’ ‘play’? Good luck with that. Any clips found on any corner of the web are often taken down, and are near impossible to copy. 

#5 - Satan’s Sphinx

Most of the videos have been traced back to 4chan, and have left us with much speculation regarding their backstory. But the urban legend accompanying this video starts with its creation:

It was supposedly uploaded to the internet in 2006 by the US government in order to test subliminal messaging. But when the reports of madness started rolling in, it was taken off the web.

Don’t fancy watching it yourself?

Then you’re missing out on a succession of bloody images overladen with high pitched sounds and murmurs! Eventually the images flick through so quickly that a flash of is all that is left.  

So, no, you’re not missing out on much. Apart from depression. 

The Real Cursed Movies You Seriously Should Watch (They’re All Great Movies, Okay, It’s Worth The Sacrifice)

Everyone okay? We all good? Had a little cry?

It’s ok, it’s over now. 

Now it’s time for the cursed horror movies you can watch! 

But before I continue the train of terrifying-shit that is this post, I wanted to begin with a personal story regarding cursed videos: In case you didn’t know, I captured paranormal activity on audio whilst recording a video for my long-dead YT channel. It was when I mentioned the true story of Anneliese Michel that strange occurrences began to plague my sound. 

Given that, I firmly believe that discussing the true stories behind certain hauntings is what cursed these films, most of which were based on true stories or unholy themes.

#1 - The Exorcist (1973)

It’s famous for being one of the scariest horror films to date, becoming a cinematic icon that would lead the the horror movie genre forward in terms of both CGI and storyline. But it's also earned its reputation through the claims of a curse.

Fires on set, actors being seriously hurt during filming - and the death of actors whilst the film was barely out of post production - all scar the film. Heck, in 1987, the actress who voiced the demon experienced the curse herself when her son murdered his own family before comitting suicide.

Here’s the trailer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YDGw1MTEe9k 

#2 - The Conjuring (2013)

Both the cast and crew cited paranormal activity, but it was a slash of a claw on Vera Farmiga’s laptop that sparked the rumours of a curse…

Digital claw marks ripped through her laptop and then appeared on her thigh, bearing the mark of a demonic attack or violent spirit. 

An exorcist was thus made to be on set throughout filming for the sequel.

Here’s the trailer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k10ETZ41q5o 

#3 - The Passion Of The Christ (2004)

The presence of Mel Gibson was not the only thing to have cursed this film. 

In fact, is was an ungodly amount of lightning strikes that plagued production - even if ‘ungodly’ isn’t the right word to use. In the filming of one scene, lightning struck the set, specifically Caviezel, a key actor in the film. And this was the second lightning strike felt by the assistant director. 

Unfortunately, this was one of the few ailments and issues Caviezel would fac including lacerations due to whipping and pneumonia. 

Here’s the trailer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Aif1qEB_JU 

#4 - Rosemary’s Baby (1968)

It’s time for another biblical tale! 

The sudden death of the composer and the infamous death of the director’s wife at the hands of Charles Manson have scarred this film. In fact, Manson supposedly cited that he was the devil and doing the devil’s work when he killed her. 

A producer also suffered sudden kidney failure soon after the film, amping up the evidence to suggest this film was cursed.

Here’s the trailer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BjpA6IH_Skc 

#5 - Poltergeist (1982)

There’s a lot going on with this film. Like a lot. Like real, human skeletons being used in the pool scene. But that was just the start of this curse.

Unfortunately, this fantastic film has a fatal backstory. 

Carol-Anne, the little girl at the centre of the film, died at the age of 12 as a result of a cardiac arrest, and across a mere 6 year window 3 crew and cast members also met their demise. 

Here’s the trailer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9eZgEKjYJqA 

#6 - The Omen (1976)

This film certainly racked up the greatest number of tragic occurrences, and this supposed curse is believed to be linked to the film itself.

The plotline follows the birth of the antichrist, and follows his life as he takes out his enemies and seeks to dominate the world. 

(Mwahahahaha)

And honestly, it seems like outside of the set this may have just been true:

3 planes carrying both cast and crew ran into dangerous weather conditions. The screenwriter himself was on two separate flights that were struck by lightning, and an executive producer was on a flight that flew through a storm.

Another plane that was supposed to carry Gregory Peck - one of the masterminds behind the film - crashed. Peck had cancelled his ticket moments before deciding to fly.

And the director? His hotel was bombed by the IRA. A special effects artist? His girlfriend was killed in a car crash. Still wanna watch? No thanks. 

Here’s the trailer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sS-sXcx30O4 

So - What Do You Think?

Are you planning to watch any of these cursed videos?

Or are you currently googling ‘how-best-to-protect-from-yurei-and-maybe-the-antichrist-too-why-not’?

Whatever your doing this fine evening, you can find more spooky stuff on this blog - including a new ghost everyday. You in? Then hit follow!

[wongxiexie]

Lies and truths

Pairing: Kim Jongdae (Chen) x Reader (ft. EXO members) Genre: Angst, Vampire!AU Word Count: 2.538 words Warnings: Mentions of cheating, Mentions of sexual situations Note: The photo’s from Chen’s website.

“You’re lying.”

It’s a pleasant night, you guess, what with the stars in full view from the suite you are in, the floor-to-ceiling windows providing you the opportunity to bask in the twinkling lights of the dead stars overhead.

Crossing your leg over the other, you reach for your glass of red wine. ‘Pfft,’ you think. Well, it won’t hurt to dream, right? It won’t do anyone any harm if you pretend that the red liquid sloshing in your wineglass is anything but what it really is.

The texture is entirely different, sure, but maybe the taste is the same? You’ll never know for sure. How will you when the aged fruit juice tastes godawful? Or maybe that’s just you? You guess your other friends  won’t appreciate your drink choices too, so checkmate, but you beg to differ. After all, AB negative is the absolute best thirst quencher ever. No questions asked.

Still staring outside, you down the contents of your glass.

“You’re lying,” he repeats breathlessly, trying to convince both you and himself that what you just said isn’t true.

“My god,” you drag out. “I heard you the first time, you know. And I’m sure you heard me the first time, too, or are we playing the ‘repeat everything I say’ game?”

The chuckle you release is met with an unblinking Jongdae.

“But--,” he whispers, having a hard time speaking with a sob threatening to fight its way out of him. “You wouldn’t,” he says quietly, his voice tainted with betrayal and disbelief, but his eyes…

If you are to describe his eyes, the eyes you love so much, they shine with nothing but hurt.

You meet his stare head on.

“What do you mean I wouldn’t?” you raise a brow and smirk at him. “What? Don’t look at me like that.”

The first drop of tears escapes his eyes and his face is settled into an unbelieving frown. His lips are downturned and his breathing is getting heavier, showing clear as day how hard he’s trying to stop himself from crying.

Leaning forward, you place your elbow on the table and rest your chin on the palm of your hand. With your smirk still in place, you continue.

“Did you really think you could satisfy me? Funny story actually, it’s different with a vampire and a measly human, you know?” At that, you point a finger at him. “I always have to hold back when I’m with you, gotta be careful with your bones. After all, wouldn’t wanna leave you broken on my bed.”

You bark out a laugh, even putting a hand over your mouth to hide your chuckles.

“But with Minseok and Baekhyun, oh boy,” you let a dreamy sigh escape your lips, followed by a smile. “We often invite Chanyeol and Jongin too, whoever’s down for a good fuck. Totally different with you and your goddamn monogamy philosophy and that ‘let’s get married someday’ bullshit you always keep on spouting. Anyway, I’m done playing with you.”

The smile that’s still on your face causes Jongdae’s vision to blur from the tears and soon after, he’s sobbing openly in front of you. You stand up, turn around and take a few steps towards the door, ready to leave the room.

You perfectly know you are breaking him, the cruel remarks that come out of your mouth are so much like sharp knives on his soft skin and flesh.

His chair scrapes the floor and the next thing you know, his arms are around you. Jongdae embraces you as he rests his forehead on your back, pleading to you amidst his tears.

“I’m sorry if I’m not good enough, I’m sorry!” he sobs against your skin. “But please don’t leave me, I love you!”

Steeling yourself, you do your best to not give in.

“I don’t care if you have to be with someone else, just please, don’t leave me,” he cries harder and holds you tightly, his body radiating warmth onto your perpetually cold skin.

You grab his arms and pry them easily off of you. Turning around, you flatten a palm against his chest to stop him from getting closer to you.

When you look at him, you’re almost rendered speechless at his state. Tears are streaming endlessly down his cheeks and broken sobs keep on coming from his mouth. The tears, the sobs, the pain and the heartbreak all look out of place on his gentle features, those horrors not having any place in a soul as pure as his.

“I had fun and it was amusing at first, but now it’s gotten boring,” you tell him blankly.

The sorrow is radiating off of him and the pain is apparent on his face, and you know right then that his cries will forever haunt your immortal existence.

“I can’t-- I don’t believe you…” his eyes beg you to tell him you love him, to say that you’re just lying. “You told me you wanted the same thing,” he says through his tears.

He’s still pleading with you and you almost give in, almost hug him just to give him any semblance of comfort to the best of your unworthy and pitiable capability. You almost embrace him just like how he used to hold you, all just so you could put an end to the agony that is hurting him, but you don’t.

“Yeah, I figured this crying thing was gonna happen,” you gesture towards him as if in disgust. “You know what? I’ll let you do whatever you humans do in times like this.”

You finally turn your back to him, afraid that he might see through you. “You better be gone by the time I come back.”

The door slams shut behind you, not once turning to face him again. Jongdae is on the floor, bawling his eyes out, his hands clenched over his heart as if parting with you physically pains him.

Breathing deeply, you run as fast as your vampiric abilities allow you, escaping the sound of Jongdae sobbing and he is almost out of earshot, but not before you hear him let out a broken whisper.

“I love you, [Y/N].”

——

The wind is blowing but you barely feel the cold. In fact, you barely feel anything at  all.

“Why did you lie to him?” a soft voice echoes beside you.

“Hello to you too, Baek,” you say as quietly, still staring at the late night city lights from your place on the rooftop of one of the highest buildings in the area.

“Really, though, why did you tell him those things, [Y/N]?” comes Jongin’s voice from your other side. If you’re in any other situation, you would have laughed at how sad your friends seem, almost sadder than you are if that’s even possible.

A second later, you hear the familiar footsteps of your clan, the clan you’ve come to treat as brothers in the long life you’ve lived with them.

You feel Junmyeon’s comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly in his attempt to alleviate the pain they are sensing from you.

“I made a mistake,” you whisper to the wind. “I made a mistake when I tried to live a normal life. I was wrong…” looking up at the skies, you gulp harshly.

“I was selfish when I pretended to be a human just for the heck of it. I thought it was going to be fun… and temporary,” you look down at your hands only to find them shaking.

“But Jongdae,” you smile painfully. “Jongdae made me feel alive,” your voice breaks and the sobs and tears you’ve been holding back are released.

Minseok immediately engulfs you in his arms and rubs circles on your back. You bury your face on his shoulders and don’t even try to stop the tears from flowing.

“I thought he would get tired of me, Minseok,” you cry, “I thought humans were shallow-- that it would just be fun and games. I didn’t know it was going to be like this.”

“So why did you leave him?” Kyungsoo voices out softly. “Why did you choose to break him like that?”

You breathe deeply. “You know, Jongdae begged me not to leave him. He said he was sorry for not being enough for me.”

A sad and bitter smile forms on your lips. “He said that, but the truth is that I’m the one who’s not enough for him. I won’t be able to give him what he really wants.”

Gripping Minseok’s shirt, you let out the realities you’ve been trying to fool yourself into ignoring.

“The truth is that I’m not worthy of him. I can never make him happy and I had to hurt him so he wouldn’t hold on to me.”

Biting your lip, you let the tears cascade down your face. “I had to hurt him if so he could have a normal future…”

“Even if it means he would hate me.”

——

It had only been a year after you’ve been together, but you were fairly certain that you were already in love with him. You were sure the same goes with him, too, for you could sense it, but even without your abilities, Jongdae never once failed to make it known to you that you were important to him.

The two of you knew everything about each other, your likes, dislikes, preferences whatsoever, dreams and aspirations. Name it and you knew it. There’s just one teeny tiny bit of information that you “forgot” to tell him, nothing important really, just that… you were a vampire.

Alright, maybe it wasn’t as insignificant as you would have liked to believe, but even with all the negative possibilities hanging over your head, somehow you knew that Jongdae would accept you wholeheartedly.

With all your unbeating and useless heart, you knew that Jongdae would love you all the same, maybe even more because as he always said, “I love you even more and more with every new little thing I get to know about you.”

You could imagine it already, the two of you spending eternity together. You were positive he would say yes if you asked him to be like you. He didn’t have any family left and you can just alter the memories of his friends, it would all be so easy.

And he would survive the transformation process, no doubt about it. Your connection was so strong that you could almost feel the threads of it engulfing your entirety. He would pull through because he was strong.

As you lay there quietly in his arms, the two of you just contently basking in each other’s presence, you become giddy at the prospect of telling him. You absentmindedly chuckle at yourself -- a vampire, giddy? Funny, but it was true.

“Darling--”

“Angel--”

You laughed when you both spoke at the same time. Jongdae chuckled at you, finding your laugh adorable. “Okay, you go first, my thoughts can wait,” he gave you a tender smile when he spoke, looking into your eyes with so much love.

“No, you go first,” you said coyly. “Mine’s a big reveal so I should go last.”

Jongdae couldn’t resist so he placed a full kiss on your lips. When he leaned back, he gazed at you lovingly and told you what probably was his biggest wish ever.

“I know it’s only been a year and I don’t mean to freak you out or anything, but I just wanted to say I love you.”

You swore you almost felt warmth spread inside your chest at his admission, but before you could reply, he continued speaking.

“Maybe it’s too soon, but I just know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to marry you someday, [Y/N]. Maybe we can buy a house near the sea, or maybe one with a garden, or somewhere in the city if that’s more your style. I want to grow old with you, [Y/N]. I just want to be with you…”

You smiled at him.

“...with you and our kids,” he said as he sighed happily. “I could already imagine having a little you, or maybe two or three. I want to create a life with you because that’s how much I love you. I know I’ve never really known my family so I don’t really know how to be a father, but I do want to have a family of my own, of ours. I’m willing to try with you. I promise I would do my very best to raise our children. I would do my best to love them and not let them go through what I had to.”

He suddenly covered his face with his hands, embarrassed of his sappy thoughts. He chuckled and closed his eyes, still shy about what he said, which was why he failed to notice the shocked state you were in.

If you had a beating heart then it would have absolutely stopped the moment he uttered those words.

All your years, decades and centuries of being a vampire, never once did you find any flaw about yourself or your kind. In fact, you loved it and you found it very advantageous especially when compared to the vulnerable humans around you.

But that… 

His dream to have a family of his own...

It was one thing that you would never be able to give him for vampires do not and cannot bear children.

You forced yourself to let out a believable chuckle. He turned to you with his eyes still holding that tenderness that could melt you.

He hugged you closer to him on the bed and placed his hand on your stomach. “I can’t wait to start a family with you.”

The smile he gave you was so radiant, so blinding and so full of love.

“But enough about me. What did you want to tell me, angel?” he said, still with that ever present smile.

You almost stuttered but you caught yourself just in time. “I was going to say the same thing!”

You almost cringed at how forced it sounded, but Jongdae didn’t notice because of the happiness that spread through his body from your words. You embraced him so you could hide your face from him, choosing to cling closer to his body to get the comfort you wanted.

Placing a kiss on the top of your head, Jongdae whispered his feelings to you.

“I love you so much, [Y/N].”

You exhaled and let out a sad smile, still hidden from his warm eyes. “I love you, Dae.”

He was on cloud nine, but that day was the day when you realized the harsh reality surrounding the two of you.

Vampires and humans may coexist, but they do not mix.

The truth was that you and Jongdae could never be together and you would let him go if it meant he could live a normal and happy life where he could have the world because you believed he deserved everything. He deserved to live out his dreams…

Even if the only possible reality of those dreams did not have you in it.

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

Now whole {1}

Description; He’s late to your training session and you give back at him in your own way. Teasing and innuendos is thrown between the two of you, until you pin each other down.

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Chapter 1/2

Word count; 3.700

Warnings; Hint of angst, cute Bucky which is a totally valid warning, sexuall innuendos  but SFW

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: So I thought way too long about how I would write this and it ended up becoming a spinoff to a mini-series, the first chapter being my addition to the lovely @buckysforeverprincess 3K writing challenge. The prompt is “Never a dull moment when you’re around”. Hope you guys have a good weekend and enjoy this chapter.

SERIES MASTERLIST

”You’re late”, the moment you saw his big build in the entrance of the training centre you called out to him.

Bucky raised his head at your voice and not until then did you noticed the frown he sported between his brows. For a second, you felt your own furrow in worry, that was until you saw the phone in his hand. Your expression eased as quickly as it had been visible, although the feeling of something not being right continued to exist.

You knew that although the brunette, ever since he began to stay at the tower, accustoms himself fairly good to new things. However, a few were always harder to do so with. The phone Tony had designed especially for the team, one the soldier currently held in his hand, was one of those things. Which, without a doubt, could be the cause of his troubled expression. Yet, you possessed more than just a bit of doubt if that actually was the case.

As the almost see-through phone, which had been the object of your stare, made its way into Bucky’s training bag, it naturally made you look up at him again.

”Taking over my phrase doll, ain’t fair”, his low voice tutted towards you, although with a smirk pulling his lips.

”Why so? You’ve used it in the same circumstances”, you replied, your gaze following his movement towards the benches on the right. He didn’t waste more time then it took to place his bag besides yours before walking over to you.

”Well, ’cause I think I have a few more sessions to be late to before catching up to you”, his voice drawled, although it wasn’t the same low and sensual  one it usually was glazed with. Neither was laziness, something you actually don’t think the soldier owned. However, it sounded  tired .

As soon as you'd realised this, your eyes instantly flickered all over Bucky, searching for the signs you’ve learned to look after.

His chestnut hair wasn’t unkempt, but the half-bun he attempted to do didn’t look as ideal as anyone, especially him, wanted it. You couldn't say he slouched, yet there was something in the way he moved that didn't belong to the facade he seemingly tried to keep up. It was subtle, thus with time, Bucky had learned to stand tall and proud even though, in reality, he didn’t have the strength to do it. Making everyone’s work besides his own that much harder.

Yet, it was when your gaze met he brunette’s, no amount of pretending could hide whatever was troubling him. His eyes- why you hadn't noticed it initially, you didn't know- they didn't hold the same glint as usual. Instead, they seemed dull.

”Didn’t sleep well?” You didn’t need his answer when his reaction was enough for you.

It wasn't that Bucky suddenly halted to your question, thus that he’d done seconds earlier from walking the short distance between you two. Although his smirked dropped, as well did his head. You tried to urge him to meet your eyes, but they simply began to flicker around your face, not stopping on any part of it for longer than seconds.

”I take that as a yes”, you answered your own question. While doing it, you looked down, shaking your head. You knew Bucky wasn't a proud man per see. But still, in situations like these, it felt like he gripped to it as much as any other man.

It was in small instances like this when you felt his gaze on you, not only heavy from whatever weighed him down and kept him up at night, but also that you  realised  that something actually was troubling him, that the feeling of not being enough crawled up.

You wouldn’t say you get it often, although it would be a lie to say it didn’t occur. You knew that your thoughts were silly, a dream that would count as a miracle. That you could be the person who made Bucky's problems go away. It couldn’t happen because that’s how reality works, but you hoped for him.

Shaking your head, dismissing your thoughts, you looked up at the brunette once more. Not really having to force a smile as it came by nature whenever you looked at him.

”Well, good for me, seems like I have a chance today”, you said, trying to lighten the mood somewhat, even though you would need to speak to him after your training.

When Bucky didn't say anything, you simply raised your hand with a smile. A sign that you asked if he could help you up. However, instead of the general point zero seconds that it took for him to take your hand, he hesitated. It was during that hesitation, you saw a flicker in his eyes. You didn't know what it was, but it made him finally grip your hand.

The force of his pull wasn't strong enough that it made you hurl into his chest, as it had done countless times before. Instead, it was enough for you to gently get tugged to your feet.

Standing once more, you attempted to shake the tingling feeling out of your legs for sitting down for too long. While doing so, you tried to let go of Bucky’s hand, yet, he didn't let you. Quizzically, you looked up at him, seeing his smile shining through some of the darkness you saw a few minutes ago in his demeanour.

”You always have a chance”, he murmured, turning your hand and kissing the top of it, before then letting go, leaving you to retract it to your side.

He hadn’t shouted it, but you didn’t think you could have heard it any clearer then you'd done.

The slight warmth from the place he kissed felt like it spread throughout your body. You tried hiding your shocked expression, as well as your heartbeat coming close to life-threatening, your body heating up as a result of your quickened pulse.

You huffed at his administration, all while rolling your eyes. You didn't believe the soldier bought your try of playing it off, thus though it all had started with you being able to read him, Bucky had become increasingly good at it the last six months, ever since the Stark gala, as your relationship evolved

”Flirt”, the only answer from his side was a wink, telling you he played along in your act. An act that was increasingly hard to maintain as you felt the smile that tugged your lips. Though, before it turned into a full-fledged one, you turned around, walking away a few feet, leaving the middle of the sparring matt.

”Leaving me already, doll?” Turning around to Bucky’s voice, you saw him standing at the same place as before, smirk visible.

”Not getting rid of me that easy, Barnes”, you said, crossing your arms over your chest, weighing back and forth on your feet. ” Although  I’ll get rid of that smug smirk of yours sooner rather than later”, your teasing earned a laugh from him, one where he closed his eyes and shook his head.

”Don’t be so sure about it”, he almost didn't finish his sentence before he suddenly lunged at you.

If anyone else then you and Bucky had been in the training centre, you would've made a much bigger scene about justifying yourself for not noticing his attempted  and  succeeded attack while chuckling for yourself. Now though, the only one to witness your lack of grace and loss of dignity was Bucky, who you frankly could live with beholding it.

”Do you give up?” Instead of answering, you tried praying your hand out of his grip, something you knew was useless, but your well-known stubbornness did not let that knowledge root. Glancing down, you saw how Bucky had positioned your arms far enough from your body so you wouldn’t be able to twist or turn out of it.

Initially, you'd planned to use your legs to break free from his grip, as his strength overpowered yours by miles. And that was when you didn't even take his metal arm into account. However, those plans dissolved as soon as his lower body anchored yours to the floor as well.

He was heavy. What else could you expect from someone made out of pure muscle? Therefore his weight alone would  almost  be enough to hold you down, but both you and Bucky knew you would've been able to get out of that somehow. And seeing as the man above you weren't dim, he'd taken that knowledge into account when pinning you to the matt.

Thus now you were basically unable to move, with not only your arms pinned by his hands but your legs pressed down firmly with the weight of his.

You huffed, not wanting to answer Bucky's initial question while meeting his eyes. The crinkles in the corner of them displayed the grin his whole face held out of amusement witnessing your struggle. Yet, you didn't focus on this. Instead, you observed how the dullness that before was present in his gaze now seemed to have faded somewhat. Still, if you concentrated, you noticed whatever haunted him still lingered in the background.

However, when you felt a light pressure change around your wrists, you felt yourself being pulled out of the depth of his blue-grey hues.

”Oh, don’t be like that. Didn’t you say that you would wipe the smirk off my face and not the other way around?” He chuckled.

Although his legs touched you in an almost sinful way, which you weren’t sure if he was oblivious to or not, his arms supported his weight, resulting in his chest being high above your own. So when Bucky lowered his face, not his whole upper body as much as you damn well wanted it despite the setting, the strands of hair that had fallen out from his up-do tickled your face. You tried shying away from it, not wanting to break out in a laughing fit during a sparring session.

”Think your hair is nearing midnight Cinderella”, you pointed out as it only felt like more and more strands began tickling your face. Even if you tried not to laugh, you did so when Bucky looked up, trying to locate those strands you talked about.

A frown creased his forehead as he blew one of the particularly annoying ones out of his face, but when it began falling again, it tickled your collarbone. The sound of your hold back laughter made his attention come back to you.

Instantly seeing your struggle, Bucky smiled and lowered his upper body, consequently putting more of his weight on you but also more of his hair tickling you.

When almost all of the strands of hair touched you, he began moving his head back and forth, making his hair caress your skin. Because you couldn’t shy away from it, neither hide your face behind your hands, your laughter proceeded to fill the otherwise silent training room.

Laughter was commonly a noise you didn't hear from the training grounds, something Nat remarked when she neared the area. In confusion, one of her eyebrows raised. However, when the redhead was at the entrance, she stopped, seeing what caused it.

The spy felt how her previous frown ceased to exist, as a soft smile, solely reserved for those close to her, tugged her lips upwards. She leaned against the doorframe, observing you and Bucky sparring, or that was at least what you used to do.

Nat watched you under the big man’s frame, your face twisted into one of glee as you laughed, while his face contorted in a boyish grin. Although the spy wasn’t as silent as Bucky, neither Steve, you and the first-mentioned soldier was too oblivious and in your own world to notice her.

And at the moment, you really were in your own world, unable to concentrate on anything else then Bucky. Neither could the soldier focus on anything else than you.

He continued torturing you until you started to chant ' I give up, I give up'  between fits of laughter. It was only then, when he stopped tickling your face and neck with his hair, that you opened your eyes once more.

His blue eyes almost seemed like they radiated happiness. Yet, like the ever smug bastard that Bucky Barnes was, a smirk stilled conveyed his lips.

”Well then, it seems like I win. Again”, Bucky proudly announced as he untangles his legs from yours and begun hovering higher above you. This was a fault on his end, seeing as you never officially tapped out.

”Think you’re wrong there,  pal , you forgot that one time when I took over a losing round magnificently”, you mused, immediately seizing the opportunity he gave you by starting to relax.

As the brunettes face frowned into a puzzled look, one where you practically could see the gears turning in his head, you couldn't fend off your smirk anymore.

”Think you’re remembering wrong, doll”, he finally settled to say when it seemed he'd raked his memory.

”No, I don’t think so. Don’t you remember…” you didn’t finish your sentence before settling your plan of breaking free into action.

First, you took advantage of the fact that Bucky had taken your legs out of their lock hold, which now made him hover high enough above you so you could move reasonably under him. You bent one of your knees and drew it close and upwards your body. Hence, it wedged itself between your bodies. Although, before the soldier could react by pressing himself closer to you once more, consequently trapping your leg, you drew it high enough to rest against the right side of his chest.

It was then, when it connected with the place you wanted, you used all the powers you had to elevate yourself from the floor and  push .

The same hand of his arm you now lifted slightly from the ground released your wrist, thus making at least one of your arms free and movable. It was enough to help your leg push him further away, though not merely up but to the side as well.

Because Bucky hadn't let go of your other wrist, his body didn't land on the side but flipped over, so his back connected with the floor. An ouf let him, more out of surprise than actual pain. Although, it wasn't perhaps only because you'd pushed him off of you, but that the momentum that had caused him to flip caused you to rotate with him as well. Hence, making you kand on top of him.

It wasn't the most graceful of positions. Thanks to the fact that only one of your legs being used in the act. Your right knee rested beside Bucky's torso. While your opposite leg was stretched along his other side. Hence, making you practically sprawl over him.

The complete surprise was evident in his face as you now had switched places. And even though you guessed he wouldn't continue the sparring match, you could at least end it.

Therefore, you rearranged yourself so that both your knees ended up beside his waist while you planted yourself on it. You knew he didn’t get affected by your weight, but you still felt his muscles flex under you as he shifted. Furthermore, you broke free from the loosened grip on your wrist remaining in his hand and changed, so you now pinned both of his arms down.

Holding his arms over his head, or as far as you could at least without leaving your place on his waist, made you naturally lean forward. This placed your face right above his.

Albeit staring into his eyes, in your peripheral, you noticed strands of your hair fell around your face, much like they'd done for him moments earlier.

”.. .that   time ”, you ended the sentence you earlier had begun, showing how you had played him from the start. The whistle which Bucky let out following your words just made you chuckle with content.

”Didn’t think you had it in you, Y/N”, he said, to which you feigned a hurt look before he continued. ”But I think I distinctly remember  that  time now”, he chuckled. The next second, he sat up in a swift motion, bringing his arms up with him. You'd known that if he really wanted, the soldier would easily be able to get out of your grip, which he now had proved.

Now, albeit still holding his wrist, you weren't really the one in control. Especially as his hands came to rest on your hips when you now fully sat  in his lap.

”You win”, he said and before you even had the slightest chance to react, you felt Bucky quickly lean and peck a kiss on your nose. You couldn't help the giggle escaping you as you ducked your head, shaking it. In the motion, also letting go of his wrists.

”You’re unbelievable”, you murmured under your breath as you felt your heartbeat speed up.

”I could say the same thing about you”, his reply came out as a murmur. You felt the tug in the corner of your lips, but not until you looked up at Bucky, getting greeted by his gorgeous smile, did you stop trying to repress it. It grew wider when you noticed the state his hair had ended up in.

”Hey Rapunzel, it isn’t time to let down your hair just yet”, you chuckled, brushing away the shorter strands of bangs framing his face. He huffed, narrowing his brows.

”Sometimes I just want to cut it”.

”You do not dare”, you gasped, the hand on the side of his fad instinctively taking ahold of his jaw.

”And why so?” He looked at you with playful eyes, which made you unconsciously bite your lip and roll your eyes.

”Because...  maybe  I like it”.

”Any motives to why?” Bucky’s question made you promptly hit his chest with the back of your hand.

”You  know  why!” Your voice raised a pitch, knowing very well that you thought of the same thing.

”Hey lovebirds! Are you done, or should I leave for 20 minutes?” In shock, you jumped up from your place in Bucky’s lap, him following you soon after. As you now stood, you quickly spotted the redhead standing in the entrance to the gym, a smirk painting her lips.

”35 at least, Natasha”, the brunette beside you called out. To which you once again smacked him, now instead, in the ribs. The redhead merely chuckled at the two of you as she began walking into the gym.

”I stand by 20 by how she took you down a minute ago”, she chuckled and made the man beside you stunned while you only tried hiding a chuckle. Bucky turned his attention to you then, pointedly glaring at your poor attempt to hide your amusement.

”Not going to object that one are you?”

”No, not really. If my dear friend complimented me, why should I?” You shrugged. The smile on your lips only growing when he rolled his eyes, mumbling what you barley could decrypt as ' women'  under his breath.

”So do we have an agreement, 20 minutes, then I can come back?” Nat’s smooth voice made you stop looking at the man who acted like he was offended.

”No, it’s ok Nat, were done”, you said, which actually brung a pout on Bucky’s face.

”What, no reward doll?” Unimpressed, you raised an eyebrow to his request.

”I’m the one who won. Shouldn’t  I  be the one getting a prize?”

”You can get a prize for winning the last time if I get rewards for  all the other  times”, he took back his cocky demeanour faster then you had expected. That was when you also started hinting at the same drawl you noticed earlier. Something troubled him if his mood shifted like this. From being sweet and teasing with you when alone to more closed up from the moment he knew Nat was there.

” Sure thing,  big boy”, his smile was hollow. You noticed that now as he offered one to both you and Nat.

”I need to go, great kicking your ass”, he stated, winking at you. You'd thought about the right time to speak with him about whatever seemed to bother him. But as he now walked over and slung his bag over his shoulder, it was too late to take it up. You simply catch up to him later.

”Always a pleasure, asshole”, you called after him as he now wandered towards the exit.

At the entrance, however, Bucky stopped. He locked his eyes with you, looking like he was about to say something, before seemingly regretting his choice and simply bid goodbye with the shadow of a smile.

You understood that Nat hadn't seen the action, as she was already heading towards you. But you knew that if she had, the same pit of worry as when Bucky first had entered the gym that settled in your stomach, maybe would be present in her's as well, regarding how the spy naturally was good at reading people.

”Never a dull moment when you’re near”, her words made you avert your eyes from the entrance to the gym to instead watch her.

”Should you say.  You  are the one who makes herself known with an inappropriate joke”, Nat shrugged, though a smirk pulled the side of her lip up.

”Ain’t that inappropriate if you see with how much passion he looks at you”, you swiftly gave her a pointed glare, to which she raised her hands.

” But  defending what I said. It’s never a dull moment for  him  when you’re near. He basks in it”, you huffed at what the spy said, although with a smile present.

”You make it sound like I’m a ray of sunshine”, you could laugh at the imagery.

”Well, you aren’t far from it, at least not for him”, you couldn’t believe it. Despite clearing the darkness that clung to his back he'd an hour prior, you'd seen it creep straight back when he now had left. A ray of sunshine? You could only hope you were, but not  belive .

Series taglist:  @buckysforeverprincess

Forever taglist: @haven-in-writing @flowerchild1216 @krystallynx​ @thejamesoldier​

[an-ambivalent]

World Of Sloth [Yandere! Emperor! Min Yoongi] [Reader-Insert]

Warning: As this story contains yandere themes, the characters display behaviors that can be triggering or uncomfortable to read. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fiction. I do not believe any of the mentioned members would display any sort of this behaviour irl.

Word Count: 3.3K (okay I kept deleting this because I hated it lmao but I won’t anymore I promise)

They lived in an empire that was reigned by a ruler who could not create balance. It was an empire where the harder a person worked, the worse their life was. The poor scraped and lived off dirts left over on the ground from the soles of rich people’s feet; and the rich lavished in their endless privileged. They were consumed by their materials, and each day, they gained more and more for the things they never worked for. Majority of the people who did not belong to the upper class,  lived in atrociously ahorrent conditions.

See, it was not always like this in your kingdom, nor were the inhabitants’ life this miserable. Prior to the reign of the current sovereignty, difference in wealth amongst lower, middle, and upper class existed but the lower class still had a decent life. Mostly, their needs for survival such as food, water, shelter, the chance to have some education, and work opportunities which allowed them to improve themselves, existed. Now, under the current ruler and the society he had created, breaking out of the poverty cycle was almost an impossible task.

Bad quality of life, and barely having their needs for survival met, meant higher increase in crime, hatred, and divide amongst people in a kingdom that should actually be united together. People were beginning to become whelmed by the idea of  justice they thought they deserved, and were starting to lose their fear for the corrupted authority. They kept their heads low for the most part, but acts of rebellion -- small and secretive big ones -- were starting.

Living a somewhat lavish life, and then being hurt by people who were from the lower class, or living through poverty and being hurt by those from the higher class, being at the end of the spectrum in each situation had it cons and complications. But for you, it was even worse because you were from  both worlds in some way, but seem to belong to neither.

You were born to a single mother, who raised you, and then passed away a few years after your birth from a life-threatening disease. At that time, your kingdom was not in shambles like the way it was currently. So despite ending up as an orphan, and without much financial aid, you were lucky enough to enroll in the local training school. You learned everything there was to know about becoming a guard, and after graduating as the top student amongst your peers, you landed a well paying job at the royal castle. Throughout your four years of working life, you had rotated with your job and taken several roles. Currently, you were in the outskirts of the town in order to pick up a small delivery, and were supposed to bring it to back to the royal castle safely.

The outskirts were quite a while away from the central and were a desert. It was incredibly dusty and hot. As you waited outside the person’s home whom you were supposed to pick up the delivery from, you could feel sweat forming at various parts of your body, and your mouth becoming dry. You decided to unhook your water bottle pad, and opened the lid. You brought the bottle up to your lips.  As you began to drink, the cool water felt refreshing and was already helping you feel better.

As you continued to drink, you heard a mockery scoff in the distance which caused you to turn towards the sound. They were hiding, but you could still see an outline of a child, and a woman, who you guessed was the child’s mother.

You felt her cold glare, and saw how she cuddled her child closer to her.

“Filthy soldiers, they take everything away from us and then come here and shove it in our faces as if we don’t struggle enough. Disgusting,” She stated icily, and you winced at the undeniable truth in her words. Although many soldiers contributed to the corruption that existed, you were not one of them. You stayed content with your pay, and your needs being met for survival. Anything spare, or more you had which you did not need, you always delivered it at night anonymously to someone you had seen in need. For that reason, her words stung and hurt you.

You were going to walk up to her and defend yourself. However, you never received the chance to because the door of the house you were waiting in front of was opened. A man with his entire face covered with bandages poked his head through. You were not able to see or guess anything about his appearance other than his strange and bright amber eyes. With suspicion etched in them, he glanced around to make sure you were not being watched. Then, he finally looked at you, and the haunting emptiness in his eyes caused you to still momentarily.

“Is there someone else with you?” He asked. You could not help but notice how deep his voice sounded, and question his odd behaviour. He was acting suspicious of you, and any other possible onlookers, when he was the suspicious one. You almost sighed at the irony, but decided against it, and responded to the question you were asked.

“No, I came alone. I was told to pick up a secretive package that needs to be delivered to the King’s personal guard and am ‘not suppose to see,’” You replied, not aware of the secret message that existed in your words. The man nodded in approval. Then, he opened the door a bit more and placed a raggy looking bag in your hand.

“Hide it somewhere where its not expected,” He said, and his eyes shifted towards your chest for mere seconds, then back to your face. Your eyes followed the direction of his gaze, and when you realized what he meant, a blush appeared on your cheeks. Your eyebrow twitched in anger, and you were going to give him a piece of your mind. But by the time you looked up, you saw that the man had already shut the door on you. You growled in anger, before you huffed, and then stomped away.

                                                          --

“Thank you [Name],” Jimin said smiling, as he took the bag  from you, and tucked it in the pocket that was inside his uniform jacket, before he patted it. You could not help but ponder on the miniscule moment when he had taken the bag from you, and how his skin contacted yours. His touch felt warm, and your cheeks redden at the thought.

The way Jimin always smiled at you, with his plump lips stretched into a small and adorable smile, and the way his eyes squinted when he did so, always flustered you. He was always so sweet to you. Jimin’s caring personality, combined with his irresistible and  attractive features, numerous talents, and every other perfection he had, made you develop feelings for him in no time. You wanted to become someone who was confident and good enough for Jimin. However, in his presence, you generally ended up being reserved and shy, because you liked him so much.

Since you were zoned out in your thoughts, you did not realize that Jimin was trying to talk to you. You only returned to reality once he started to shake you gently.

“H-Huh? W-What? What happened?” You asked frantically, with wide eyes, while snapping out of your thoughts. You audibly gasped when you saw how close Jimin was leaning towards your face, and the concern he held for you.

It took all of your self control to not implode and scream when Jimin put his hand against your forehead to check your temperature. Your face was burning hot and red but it was not for the reasons he thought of.

“Are you okay? You feel really hot and your face is all flushed. Did going to the desert area affected you this much? I should call the doctor—“ The rest of his words fell on your deaf ears. This was because you had mentally grasped on how dotting he was being over you, and realizing how much he cared for you. One thought of what an angel he was lead to another, and you drifted into your thoughts of how much you loved him.

You missed on how the doors of the room which both you and Jimin were in were opened, and the stoned-faced King that had walked in. You were also oblivious to the momentarily grimace and disgust that was etched on Jimin’s face when he saw the Emperor.

When you felt Jimin grab your hand, and tighten his grip on it possessively, you were no longer lost daydreaming, and focused on your reality. You saw that Jimin’s back was facing you, and realized that he had pushed you behind himself to hide you away from the eyes of the Emperor he was facing.

“Jimin, you’re late. You know that if you make me wait for too long, there will be consequences. You better have a good reason,” Min Yoongi said, as walked towards Jimin, and greeted him with an icy stare. Just like his eyes, his voice sounded cold too. The lack of human emotion and expression in them caused shivers to run through your spine.

The matter of the fact was that although you had heard many things about him, you had never actually seen the Emperor himself. From the time he had started his rule, and till this point, Yoongi had never made a public appearance for any speeches or conferences. All of your knowledge about him came from the discourse surrounding him and other people’s opinions of him.  You suddenly realized how you worked for the King, but had never met him. As a result, you knew little to nothing about him from himself, and you felt strange about that.

Yoongi’s threat to Jimin did not seem like empty words, and you did not want Jimin to get in trouble because of you. After all, you were only supposed to make a delivery, get approval and then move onto your next job. But you thought that due to your incompetency to behave appropriately around Jimin, and making him worry over you for nothing, simply because you desired his attention, caused him to waste his time on you. You knew that you had to be the one to take responsibility for this situation.

Not knowing the terrible future that laid ahead of you because of the choices you were going to make, and being clueless of how Jimin was hiding you because he wanted to protect you, you acted without thinking.

You removed your hand from Jimin’s grip, and stepped out from behind him. Without wasting any time, you were instantly bowed to Yoongi, unaware of the baffled gaze Jimin was looking at you with.

“I sincerely apologize for his delay and any inconveniences it may have caused you, my King. I was merely delivering a package as Mr. Park had assigned me to do, and it was my fault he was held up. I will take any punishments on his behalf that you see fit,” You said, keeping your head low. As a result, you did not see the ravening glint that had appeared in Yoongi’s eyes when he saw you.

“A delivery, huh? That’s strange because I wasn’t told of any deliveries that we were suppose to receive.  Everything that comes and goes in and out of the castle, needs to be run through me first as protocol. Mr. Park, out of all people, knows that,” Yoongi said stoically,  and narrowed his eyes at Jimin, who looked like a deer caught in headlights. Then, he averted his eyes back to you again.

“Raise your head, Miss. [Surname]. I believe that Jimin has enough experience and authority to be responsible for his own actions and not let his underlyings take the blame for him. It’s awful when the innocent pay the price for something that another in power refuses to take responsibility for. Wouldn’t you agree, [Name]?” Yoongi asked, and he looked at you with a predatory gaze that was etched with emotions and intentions you could not decipher. You thought it was ironic, and you were in slight disbelief that out of everyone, Yoongi had said those words. But as mentioned before, what you knew of Yoongi was presumptions. So, maybe there was something deeper to the crisis of your Kingdom then just a lazy King? You furrowed your eyebrows, but nonetheless, responded with a nod.

Yoongi’s lips twitched into a forced smile.

“I like to be answered verbally [Name], and spoken to only when asked. Be mindful, and remember that for our future conversations. Now, I am promoting you. Since Park Jimin will be facing execution for his betrayal, I now assign you,  as my next personal bodyguard.”

Your nerves were on edge, and heavy tears fell down your cheeks due to the things you were forced to endure. You wanted to move, fidget, cry out loud in pain, and were even willing put aside your dignity and beg for mercy if it meant your current torment would stop. But you could do neither of those things, or anything else. Without Yoongi’s permission, you were not allowed to move in anyway, speak, or respond in any other way which may convey your displeasure for his actions.

                                                         --

Your bottom lip quivered as Yoongi softly rubbed salt into your bloody gashes that he had cut into your skin not too long ago. The stinginess of it burned. It was terrifying; Yoongi was terrifying because  despite the fact that he was literally torturing you right now, he was very precise and gentle with his actions. Even when he was hurting you, he looked at you with a soft fondness in his eyes.

It was sickening.

“I don’t like to hurt my favourite toy,” Yoongi began, and he gently ran his fingers through your locks with his other hand. His words, especially his term ‘favourite toy’ that was specifically for you, were always laced with obsession. He objectified you because he loved the idea of you as his personal plaything that he owned, and refused you to think of you as a human. From experience, you knew that evidently his words were insincere, and realistically, he would take whatever chance he got to hurt you.

“But you won’t stop bringing up Jimin, and why I had him executed. You don’t say it, but I can see it in your eyes. I can see everything in your eyes — the disgust and hatred you have for me, and the love you had — still have for Jimin and how much you miss him. You hold love for him that you should have for me,” He hissed, and the hand which was running through your hair gently before, had now made its way to your roots, and clenched your hair strands tightly, causing you to hiss out in pain.

“Well [Name], since I love you so much, I’ll tell you so you can stop wasting your time on grieving for a traitor and move onto me. That package you delivered to Jimin was red sand poison he was planning on slipping in my food to kill me so that he could become the King and fix this country. Not only that, prior to that slip up which led to his definite punishment, he had made numerous attempts to kill me. Can you believe how disgusting that it is? Or the fact that you actually felt love for such a scumbag?” Yoongi said, and his words struck a nerve in you.

See, so far, you’ve handled all of his antics well enough since they were all directed towards you, personally. Additionally, once or twice, he would criticize you about how he thought he was too generous and good for you. Seemingly, his criticism towards Jimin was the catalyst you needed to finally stand your ground, and set Yoongi in his place.

You snapped.

“He probably planned to do that because you deserve it. Honestly, I can’t blame him for wanting to get rid off you. After being in your presence and realizing that you truly are the heartless monster people say you to be, getting rid off someone as pathetic as you; someone who hurts more than he cares for his people, your death would be a blessing. Jimin’s disgusting? Don’t kid yourself.  What’s truly disgusting is how you ignore the needs of your people and waste your time on trying to make me love you when I never will—“ You ranted, but were cut off with a harsh slap to your cheek. You did not get time to react to the pain or the stinginess of the slap, because instantly, Yoongi had gripped your chin harshly in between his index finger and thumb. They dug into your skin painfully, and you yelped in pain.

He forced you to meet his eyes, which were narrowed in an infuriated glare.

“Let me remind you that you were the one who delivered the red poisonous sand to Jimin, so by extension, were aiding him with the crime and I can easily have your head off too. But I didn’t. I took pity on your pathetic self just like the King before me did when he let you enrol in the academy. So, really, without the royal’s pity, you would be dead meat by now, or selling yourself to disgusting and MUCH older man just to afford food and water. You better learn to be grateful for the life I have given you,” He hissed, and as you tried to pull your face away from him, his grip on your chin only tightened, and his nails dug painfully in your skin.

It wasn’t long before your anger blinded you, and you growled. Caught in the heat of the moment and not thinking about the consequences your actions were going to have, you spat on Yoongi’s face as an act of defiance.

“At least it would be MY choice to sell myself to whoever I chose to. With you, its literal hell. Fuck off with your bullshit Yoongi,” You snapped. Subsequently to your momentarily rebellion, it went extremely quiet. Your spit that had landed on Yoongi’s cheeks trailed down his cheek. He looked at you with bewilderment in his widened eyes because he was unable to fathom that you had just done that. However, it did not take long for the realization to sink in, and for his widened eyes to turn into a seething glare.

Then, instead of hurting your jaw with his fingers, Yoongi’s entire hand wrapped around your neck. He clutched it tightly and painfully, and you gasped as you felt your air circulation being cut off. Then, he took out a very familiar small dagger from his pocket -- it was the very dagger that he always cut you with, the one that turned your reality into a nightmare.

“You had the choice to avoid this if you had only submit to me. But since you choose not to and want me to actually make your life a living hell, then I will. I’ll cut you and torture you as many times it takes to get you to love me. ME, NOT Jimin, or anyone else!! ONLY ME!!” Yoongi screamed in your face, and the fear he had inflicted in you with a dagger, rushed to your head all at once. You screeched, and tried to move away and shove him off of you, but all of your efforts remained useless.

“Open wide [Name]. Since you don’t smile at me at all like the way you did for Jimin, I’m just going to have to carve one on your face. Be a good girl for you Emperor, keep still and don’t scream,” He ordered, and your eyes widened in terror. Then, the last thing that you remembered was the tip of his dagger glinting before you passed out.

BAD ENDING  

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okay so if I have links in this post it doesn’t show in the tags. To take the next quiz simply search up ‘world of pride’ the search button of my blog :^)

[xoruffitup]

Burn This First Preview: 3/15 Show Report

OKAY it’s 3 AM and I’m writing this on my phone so the format might be weird, but I have SO MANY thoughts and feels from tonight I’ve got to let the tidal wave out!! 

First off - Yes, he looked gorgeous at stage door and he was so kind trying to sign for everyone he could! (The line was longggg.) I GOT HIS AUTOGRAPH AND THANKED HIM FOR SUCH A MOVING PERFORMANCE AND HE SAID “OH THANK YOU VERY MUCH” AND LOOKED UP AT ME WITH HIS GORGEOUS EYES AND GORGEOUS FACE AND THERE IS A PIC OF THIS MOMENT THAT WILL FOREVER LIVE IN MY HEART:

This is my new OTP, folks: Adam/The back of my head!

I attempted to ask for a pic but was hesitant and security had already half pulled him away so he was like “I don’t know if I’ll have time” sounding so nervous about getting to the whole line. BABY <333

Aksjsknsm I can’t believe I was this close to him - It hasn’t fully set in and omg I better just keep writing before it does set in and I lose my shit completely!

Play Highlights! (This list is Plot-Spoiler free.)

Alas, sadly there is not that much nakedness. He takes his pants off in Act 1 but has underwear and a long shirt on. The BEST is when he comes on wearing one of Keri/Anna’s kimono-style purple silk robes in Act 2 - I nearly DIED and cannot believe I saw that with my own eyes!! When he first steps onstage the robe’s open and he’s only wearing underwear so you get a nice chest glimpse, but then he sadly ties it. (Then proceeds to hilariously struggle with getting one of his arms through the complicated sleeves.) Oh, and did I mention the robe was paired with knee-high socks?

Adam is HYSTERICAL. He doesn’t come on stage for about the first twenty minutes, but when he did, it took all of 5 minutes for the audience to be in the palm of his hand, laughing at every other word he said. His delivery of all of Pale’s curse-laden, barely-logical rants and complaints is just masterful in comedic timing and effect. He’s a literal hurricane when he enters the show, flooding the stage with this frenetic, chaotic energy so intense he’s practically vibrating. He keeps everything at break neck pace, through 0-100 highs and lows where he’s bitching about parking one second, then animal-wail crying the next.

His character’s not likeable. Really, this is a testament and praise to Adam’s acting. After his first couple minutes on stage, there were stretches when I literally forgot it was him. When I was so taken in and then repulsed by this character in turns, his acting prowess overcame even my instinct to love him and everything he does on sight. I’m about to get deeper into the weeds on his character in the next section, but suffice it to say Adam’s performance is stellar and completely, convincingly transformative.

How heated does it get? The only intimate scene that happens in front of the audience includes some slow kissing, a bit down Keri/Anna’s neck, and wandering hands. The rest is implied off stage.

The play is set in the 80s, so while Keri looks KILLER in every single outfit, Adam’s suits are all big and baggy as was the style then and they’re not exactly flattering. His costume look is just a bit weird, not nearly as smolderingly hot as how they styled him in the promo pics. But even with that said.... The scene where they’re both close on the couch, talking softly before kissing happens? I would have still gone for him too. ;_;

The rest of this report is going to dive into and attempt to untangle some of the deeper elements and themes of the play. Stop reading here if you’re avoiding spoilers!

To my perspective, this wasn’t really a play about a smoldering, ill-advised love affair. Yes, that’s the main event, but this play is about so much more.

Anna and Pale are star-crossed lovers. No, not in the Disney or destined interpretation - I mean the proper, tragic meaning. Whatever is between them should not exist. Whatever is between them threatens and harms them both. Whatever is between them is not long for this world, and doesn’t belong in it.

But why doesn’t it belong? Sure, there are the technical, superficial reasons: Anna has a boyfriend; Pale is married with kids (though technically separated); They are polar opposite people - Sharing no visible common interests and with temperaments that couldn’t be more opposite.

What is the one thing stronger than all of that, which first brings them together? Their grief; Their shared (yet deeply personal and divergently different) senses of grief; The solace and understanding they can only find for that grief with each other. The loss they’ve both experienced is life-changing, and has no place to fit into or even exist at all in their normal lives.

And so, they hurtle into an affair that also has no place existing in their normal lives. By the end of the play, they both assert “I don’t want this.” To a certain degree, it’s the truth. It’s unlikely either of them would have willfully chosen to pursue the other, had they met under different circumstances. They would likely never have opened or even tapped at the floodgates of their attraction, unless they had both gravitated towards this dark, abnormal part of life outside the realm of everyday lives, jobs, rational behavior, and decisions.

To me, this play was really about confronting that abnormal, primal, and sometimes unfathomable level of being that exists below the everyday. Pale has a memorable remark about all the little lies people live with and show to the world each day. Sometimes - when it is cut open and its value or sense thrown into question by some great tragedy such as a loss like this - you lose touch with that everyday life and the person you think you are within that everyday world. It becomes painfully juxtaposed and shrunk tiny, in the face of something all-encompassing and all-powerful, like grief. It becomes exposed as paper thin; Everything within it questionable and perhaps useless.

There is something of the profound in an emotion like grief. When it’s shared with someone, it’s no wonder that that also unlocks some profound connection. Anna and Pale don’t like each other as people, and they certainly take no enjoyment in the grief that brought them together. Yet, the relationship that blooms from it contains a compulsion and truth neither of them can deny. Even though they “don’t want this” (the rational, everyday side of their minds talking), they both admit they’ve never felt anything like it before, and they keep finding themselves drawn together. They don’t want to want each other - It’s painful and frightening for both of them, and yet their attraction wraps them both just as completely as their grief.

Anna’s boyfriend Burton is the epitome of the everyday. He earns a lot of money, he’s a well-dressed gentleman. He’s a writer, and fancies he can capture and portray the entire spectrum of human emotion. Even “great love,” as he fumblingly attempts to describe towards the play’s beginning. Yet all his talk is vapid and empty; As is his relationship with Anna. Theirs is one of the everyday, rational variety. It belongs with the small lies we live with and put on and speak and perform each day - To keep our lives square and tidy and comprehensible.

Then - There’s the chaotic, unpredictable, bordering violent being of Pale. He is every sincere, larger-than-life emotion and base instinct most people tamp down and deny voice to. He represents the terrible, uncontrollable, threatening Truth of everyday masks, dark desires, and empty identities of performativity.

Their attraction is not something Anna can bear to look in the face. She throws Pale out and ends the relationship because that deeper truth of true emotion unlocked by her grief cannot coexist with her reality. Her ability to continue dancing, to continue the everyday life she’s trying so hard to believe in and trust the purpose of - It cannot contain Pale. He represents and unlocks profound, unknown feeling that casts the waking world as a shadow.

And yet for all that discomfort, she has an artistic breakthrough after the affair with Pale. She is inspired to finally choreograph Robbie’s final send-off piece. And with Anna, Pale unlocked a part of himself that was calm, gentle, and soothed - A version of himself totally incongruous with his own reality and the identity he wears. Both of them are changed through their journey together through the Profound. It is a deeply uncomfortable, destabilizing place that neither of them wish to remain in. And yet its power is undeniable; Its impact unforgettable. The very experience of it is something they seek comfort for and can only find from each other.

Is it better to tell little lies each day so the world will make sense? So you can understand exactly who’s looking back at you in the mirror, and the quotidian will shade your perception of the invisible and unfathomable depths of human experience? So everything will remain neat and in control?

Or - Does it give meaning to abandon control? To surrender to grief and undesired passion, for the sake of a reality that is uncompromisingly, viscerally, heartbreakingly genuine? The harsh, infinite light all the rest of life seems to be constructed to blot from our eyes?

I really hope that as more people see the play, people will start posting their interpretations as well! I would love some good analysis dialogues! In the meantime, I will now slide right back into flaily, trash fangirl mode.... Thank you for reading all this, if you got this far! Go see this marvelous, haunting play if you’re able!!

All the love to my fangirl besties!!! @reylonly Thanks for making it an amazing night! :’)))

[dudebrosunited1]

What You Should Know About the Wall (1962 GDR brochure)

Newspapers, radio and television report daily about Berlin and West Berlin in many languages throughout the world. They often speak or write of a state frontier, or of a wall.

It may be very difficult for you to form a valid picture from all these reports which frequently contradict each other. We want to help you to do so.

We tried to imagine what would be the considerations of a citizen of a foreign state if he wanted to gain clarity about the problems in West Berlin. And we would like to reply to these considerations.

1st CONSIDERATION. Where, exactly, is Berlin situated?

A glance at the map suffices: Berlin lies in the middle of the German Democratic Republic, exactly 180 kilometres (112.5 miles) to the east of its western frontier. A quite normal locality for the capital of a state. Only one thing is not normal at all: that a hostile, undermining policy and disruptive acts have for years been carried on from the western part of this city against the surrounding state territory. West Berlin Mayor Willi Brandt called West Berlin a “thorn in the side of the GDR.” Would you like to have a thorn in your side? We don’t either! But Brandt even proclaims quite frankly: “We want to be the disturber of the peace.”

2nd CONSIDERATION. Did the wall fall out of the sky?

No. It was the result of developments of many years standing in West Germany and West Berlin. Let us recall preceding events: In 1948 a separate currency reform was introduced in West Germany and West Berlin - the West German reactionaries thereby split Germany and even west Berlin in to two currency areas.

The West German separatist state was founded in 1949 - Bonn thereby turned the zonal border into a state frontier.

In 1954 West Germany was included in NATO - Bonn thereby converted the state frontier into the front-line between two pact systems.

The decision on the atomic armament of the West German Bundeswehr was made in 1958 - thus, Bonn continues to aggravate the situation in Germany and Berlin. Repeatedly the annexation of the GDR is proclaimed as the official aim of Bonn policy, most recently in a statement of the Adenauer Christian Democratic Union (CDU), on 11 July 1961.

Thus did the anti-national, aggressive NATO policy create the wall which today separates the two German states and also goes through the middle of Berlin. The Bonn government and the West Berlin Senate have systematically converted West Berlin into a centre of provocation from where 90 espionage organizations, the RIAS American broadcasting station in West Berlin (Radio in American Sector) and revanchist associations organize acts of sabotage against the GDR and the other socialist countries. Through our protective measures of 13 August 1961 we have only safeguarded and strengthened that frontier which was already drawn years ago and made into a dangerous front-line by the people in Bonn and West Berlin. How high and how strongly fortified a frontier must be, depends, as is common knowledge, on the kind of relations existing between the states of each side of the frontier.

3rd CONSIDERATION. Did the wall have to come?

Yes and no. We have submitted more than one hundred proposals for understanding, on the renunciation of atomic armament, and on the withdrawal of the two German states from NATO or the Warsaw Treaty. If things had gone according to our proposals the situation in Germany would not have been aggravated and, consequently, there would have been no wall. Especially since 1958 the GDR and the Soviet Union have repeatedly told the West Berlin Senate, the Bonn government, and the western powers: Be reasonable! Let us eliminate the abnormal situation in West Berlin together. Let us start negotiations. Why did Bonn and West Berlin reject these proposals? Why did they, instead, step up agitation to an unprecedented degree before 13 August? - The wall had to come because they were bringing about the danger of a conflict. Those who do not want to hear, must feel.

4th CONSIDERATION. What did the wall prevent?

We no longer wanted to stand by passively and see how doctors, engineers, and skilled workers were induced by refined methods unworthy of the dignity of man to give up their secure existence in the GDR and work in West Germany or West Berlin. These and other manipulations cost the GDR annual losses amounting to 3.5 thousand million marks.

But we prevented something much more important with the wall - West Berlin’s becoming the starting point for a military conflict. The measures we introduced in 13 August in conjunction with the Warsaw Treaty states have cooled off a number of hotheads in Bonn and West Berlin. For the first time in German history the match which was to set fire to another war was extinguished before it had fulfilled its purpose.

5th CONSIDERATION. Was peace really threatened?

Indian journalists R. K. Karanjia shall give you the answer to the question. He published a sensational report from Berlin in the biggest Indian weekly, Blitz in which the world public is warned against the West Berlin powder-keg. K. R. Karanjia wrote:

“It (the protective wall of the GDR) served the cause of world peace since it halted the advance of the German neo-Hitlerites toward the East, forced the world to recognize the reality of the division of Germany and thus supports negotiation.” (retranslated from German)

If further evidence of the aggressive intentions of the West German government is needed it is provided by the authoritative West German employers’ newspaper, the Industriekurier, which regretfully wrote, exactly 19 days after 13 August 1961: “A reunification with the Bundeswehr marching victoriously through the Brandenburg Gate to the beating of drums - such a reunification will not take place in the foreseeable future.”

Bonn heads were really haunted by ideas of such a victorious entry. That would have meant war.

6th CONSIDERATION. Who is walled in?

According to the exceedingly intelligent explanations of the West Berlin Senate we have walled ourselves in and are living in a concentration camp. But in that case why are the gentlemen so excited? Obviously, because in reality their espionage centres, their revanchist radio stations, their fascist soldiers’ associations, their youth poisoners, and their currency racketeers have been walled in. They are excited because we have erected the wall as an antifascist, protective wall against them.

Does something not occur to you? West Berlin Mayor Brandt wails that half of the GDR, including the workers in the enterprise militia groups, is armed. What do you think of a concentration camp whose inmates have weapons in their hands?

7th CONSIDERATION. Who breaks off human contacts?

Of course, it is bitter for many Berliners not to be able to visit each other at present. But it would be more bitter if a new war were to separate them for ever. Moreover, when the GDR was forced to introduce compulsory entry permits for West Berlin citizens on 23 August in the interests of its security we at the same time offered to open up entry permit offices in municipal railway stations in West Berlin. In fact we opened them and issued the first permits. Who closed them by force? The same Senate of that Mr. Brandt who is today shedding crocodile tears about “contacts being broken”! The GDR has maintained its offer. If we had our way Berliners could visit each other despite the wall.

8th CONSIDERATION. Does the wall threaten anyone?

Bonn propaganda describes the wall as a “monstrous evidence of the aggressiveness of world communism.” Have you ever considered it to be a sign of aggressiveness when someone builds a fence around his property?

9th CONSIDERATION. Who is aggravating the situation?

The wall? It stands there quite calmly. Former French Premier Reynaud said already on 19 August 1961, according to UPI: “The sealing-off measures of the East Berlin government did not increase, but lessened, the danger of a third world war.” In reality, the situation is being aggravated by persons who play at being the strong man on our state frontier, who are turning West Berlin into a NATO base and daily inciting West Berliners against the GDR. Municipal railway cars are being destroyed, frontier guards attacked and brutally shot, tunnels dug for agents and bomb attacks made on the GDR’s frontier security installations. Does that serve relaxation? One must really ask why attacks on the GDR state frontier in West Berlin are not subject to court prosecution as in other states. The Brandt Senate even presents “its respects” to the provocateurs.

10th CONSIDERATION. Is the wall a gymnastic apparatus?

The wall is the state frontier of the German Democratic Republic. The state frontier of a sovereign state must be respected. That is so the world over. He who does not treat it with respect cannot complain if he comes to harm. West German and West Berlin politicians demand that “the wall be removed.” We are not particularly fond of walls, either. But please consider where the actual wall runs in Germany, the wall which must be pulled down in your and our interest. It is the wall which was erected because of the fateful Bonn NATO policy. On the stones of this wall stand atomic armament, entry into NATO, revanchist demands, anti-communist incitement, non-recognition of the GDR, rejection of negotiations, the front-line city of West Berlin.

So, make your contribution to the pulling down of this wall by advocating a reasonable policy of military neutrality, peaceful co-existence, normal relations between the two German states, the conclusion of a peace treaty with Germany, a demilitarized Free City of West Berlin. That is the only way to improve the situation in Berlin, to safeguard peace, a way which can, one day also lead to the reunification of Germany. The wall says to the war-mongers:

He who lives on an island should not make an enemy of the ocean.

Decide in favour of the recognition of realities. Don’t join in the row over the wall. Perhaps YOU don’t want socialism. That is your affair.

But should we not come to an agreement jointly to refrain from doing anything that leads to war and do everything that serves peace?

[red-board]

Tim Drake Fic Masterlist

For all your Tim Drake needs

I had already made one but i finally finished reading all of these so this list is CURATED. Pure quality. Mostly Gen. Organized by LENGHT from 130k words to 1k. But they’re all gems. The list is LONG hence the Read More.

Tectonic Doom – Paganpunk (130k) Dick and Tim head out for a week of brotherly bonding in the wilderness only to find themselves caught up in a scheme to put humanity on the ‘extinct’ list. T for language and frightening situations.

Juneberries – Misha Berry (68k) When Tim is taken, Damian has to come to terms with his own insecurities, and how he really feels towards his older 'brother’. When he does, it might be too late.

Our Favorite Timmers - Capucine (56k) When Tim is de-aged to about the age of five, Jason is the one who rescues him and brings him back to the manor. However, his family may find it a little shocking to discover what he was actually like at that age.

Matters of the Heart – DM (51k) With Clark off-world as an ambassador to Earth, Conner has to watch over Metropolis. Though it should be straightforward, there appears to be something amiss with seemingly random crimes happening around the city. Conner has a hunch that they’re connected and calls in his best friend to help. But as the two of them spend time together working the case, Conner realizes that his feelings for Tim might not be what he had thought.

Executive Assistant to the Batman – Heartslogos (50k) Tim is Bruce Waynes Assistant at WE and its very funny. Hes in desperate need of a break. Not that he gets any, I guess???  Exception to the completed rule, because it’s a series of snapshots kinda.

Myth-Bats – CatChan & Chibi NightOwl (43k) The Bats take on the Mythbusters. Why? Because some things are just too cool not to try in your spare time and with your family.

Bringing My Brother Home - Beathas (41k) Tim has been Robin for a year when a mysterious man begins stalking and threatening Batman and Robin. Is this the deceased Robin, Jason Todd? As Tim struggles to find a way to bring Jason home sane, his own less than stellar parents become more demanding of his future.

Invisible Fracture Lines – keeptogethernow (33k) Jason doesn’t really LIKE Tim, but given the amount of effort that he’s put into keeping the kid alive tonight, maybe he’s just in denial. Either way, this was NOT how he’d planned on spending his night.

Kodokuna Shoujo – C.R. Scott (30k) A tale of two Robins wrapped up in an Asian-style horror story. Tim Drake goes to Japan for business, both for Wayne Enterprises and Batman Incorporated. However, when he returns to Gotham City, its Damian Wayne who discovers he brought along more from his trip overseas than just his luggage and mission report.

The Impossible Journey – RavingNarniacAnarane (27k) Batbros broing it out. You like Journey to the Center of the Earth? I do. Note: Damian blames Drake. When Dick takes the opportunity to forge some brotherly bonding time, he didn’t expect it to turn so deadly. Following the mysterious disappearance of Tim’s uncle, the four bat boys (yes,Jason reluctantly included) find themselves taking a long plunge down towards the Earth’s core, and are left attempting to find a way back. And as Jason’s prefers: Alive.

Though The Sun Continues To Stand - MetropolisJournal (27k) As long as Tim Drake can remember, a dark guardian has haunted his life. He’s convinced that Batman needs a Robin to break him from his self-destructive spiral. Will Tim be up to the task?

Those Nightime Escapades - LazuliQuetzal (26k) Timothy Drake is a completely normal seventeen year old; he goes to school, enjoys photography, creeps out in the middle of the night to gather intel on Gotham's criminals -- wait, what? (Or, Steph is the third Robin, and Tim ends up as Oracle's sidekick-apprentice.)

Boy You Was Battle Born - MusicSpeaksToo (21k) AU where Jason survives Ethiopia and becomes a reluctant mentor/friend to Tim.

Where the Healing Begins (Fix You) - RascalJoy (21k) In which Tim's brothers knock some sense into his head.

Everyone Needs a Tim - WastedSanity (18k) 7 Tim-Centric drabbles.

Not Alone - TimeTrees (16k) Tim Drake's life is a complicated and sad thing. This is him trying to work through it.It wasn’t quite a crashing down moment — there was no sky falling on his shoulders, there were no monumental responsibilities, if he was living in reality he would have been completely, totally fine. If he stopped thinking, he would be fine

Whoopsie - Misha Berry (13k) A lapse in communication lands Tim in some big trouble. Maybe next time he'll think twice before taking a dip in Gotham River on a cold night.

When I Have Lost My Way – Teland (9k) Desperate times call for desperate measures. Though probably not that desperate.

Set My Mind to Wandering - Tabithian (9k) Tim is having a blast on vacation. The sights are amazing. The food is fantastic, and the people? So friendly. Five stars, would recommend.

American Ninja Worrier - DangerBeckett (8k)  It's just like Tim to give a poor college student a start in the business world. Kid's a bleeding heart, and usually, that's the sort of thing Jason avoids at all costs. He prefers his bleeding hearts on the literal side, and despite Bruce's best efforts, he's never had a head for business. Unfortunately, though, this time the business is ninjas, and that's the sort of thing that makes Jason take notice. Because Bruce is useless, and someone's gotta make sure Tim's new internship program doesn't take down all of Gotham. That's Jason's job, after all.

Heart, Humble – Betty (7k) Back then, all the boys his age had hero-worshipped costumed vigilantes. Jack supposes they still do.

Hey, Lawman! - dinolaur (6k) A clerical error leads to Tim going MIA during his lunch break and his family running around trying to find him.

Classics – The Protagonist. (6k) He has to learn this stuff some how. Or three training sessions in Tim’s early career as Robin.

A Simple Life - RenaRoo (5k) Tim Drake is living a simple life in one of the worst parts of Gotham. He makes the best of it, though. He makes for himself the only life he's ever known... He thinks.

In Living Memory - DangerBeckett (5k) When Dick and Jason get a rare peek into Tim's brain, Jason remembers why he stays out of other people's business. With his family, it inevitably ends in either life-threatening injury or Dick singing Disney songs. Sometimes both, if Dick doesn't dodge fast enough. Meanwhile, Tim doesn't see what all the fuss is about. Which is basically the entire problem, as far as Jason's concerned.

Tell-Tale - Incogneat_oh (4k) Or, the kids compete to see who should give Bruce bad news. But Jason doesn't take Tim and Bruce's fractured relationship into account.

A Little Bit of Sunshine, a Little Bit of Rain – Sookakkit (4k) For once, Tim is happy with his life.

Trouble Magnet – strikeyourcolors (4k) In which Tim Drake is terribly unlucky (even if he refuses to admit bad luck exists) and his brothers may or may not be trying to kill him. That’s what families do, right?

Normally People Pass Out After - WriterofGotham (3k) Tim Drake gives blood.

Exit Wounds - Incogneat_oh (3k) Did you hear this one? A vigilante walks into a warehouse and kills the joker.

Aiding and A-Betting - keep_me_alone (3k) Dick, Jason, Tim and Steph get up to some really stupid shenanigans in the Manor while no one is around. As expected, it doesn't really go well for any of them and Bruce gets real mad.

Road Rage Robin – Heartslogos (2k) “I’d be doing humanity a favor.” Tim grinds out, “And I would get away with it. I could totally get away with it. I’ve done worse."

The Time Weve Got - DawnsEternalLight (2k) Bruce offers to accompany Tim to the store for an emergency Red Bull run. Shocked, Tim accepts his offer and suddenly finds himself alone in the car with his adopted Father for the first time in a long time.

Making a List - HauntedLittleDoll (2k) Tim rereads some of his old books while benched.

Do the Wonders Ever Cease? - HeartsLogos (2k) His children are strange, strange creatures, Bruce thinks as he returns to his office.

The Art of Conversation - GlassGoblin (1k) Robin needs to talk to a friend, but everyone is a little busy. 

False Dichtonomy - HeartsLogos (2k) Red Hood calls Red Robin’s bandoliers “super convenient idiot handles”.

Meant to Be – The Protagonist (1k) Tim takes a bullet for Bruce Wayne at a press-conference and winds up sprawled and bleeding in his arms.

Family Portraits - ShariAruna (1k) “You don’t have any photo on your desk”, the new girl says. “Sorry?” “No photos”, she repeats. “People usually have photos on their desk. Family. Girlfriends or boyfriends. You know?” Family, girlfriends, boyfriends. Yes, Tim knows.

I Volunteer - GoodLuckDetective (1k) Tim is the type to volunteer for the hunger games, isn't he?

[loremonster]

Slush Pile : Nightmares

While not plot-important, this little scene is something I feel like would go between the current story and the next as Kenny and Dee start breaking more rules to spend time together. I’m still considering it for inclusion in the story, but I don’t know if it fits in just yet or would play any important role to the plot... more likely than not, it won’t make it over to fanfiction, so enjoy this bonus content! Feels, somewhat unsettling descriptions, and cursing ahead! Enjoy!

It’s the right thing. 

She’d told herself the moment she began to feel her insides squirming, the way they churned, as if some living creature within her guts were eager to burst forth. It was not unlike the feeling of being entirely too full, the contents of the stomach threatening to burst up through the mouth when the midsection was so much as bent... but it wasn’t an excess of food she was gritting her teeth against, trying desperately to ignore as more and more coppery-tasting black bile was swallowed back, welling up from places unknown. No, no, there was something unthinking and vicious, gluttonous and oh so hungry. 

It was going to escape if this didn’t happen. She knew it would. It would emerge from the chrysalis of her flesh, and wreak the very havoc she’d come to avoid. 

It’s the right thing. 

She looked up, up to the good doctor Kartwright and her silenced pistol where it hovered a mere inch from her brow. This had been the plan since she began throwing up at home, since she arrived in this un-disastered timeline and became aware that she was the disaster, walking about with both the key to salvation and the disease that would consume everything in its wake if not stopped. 

She’d expected to cry, or be afraid.

Get it over with. 

Gunshots in movies were bullshit-- there was no flash. All of that was edited in post-- and they rarely reflected just how loud a gun was. How the shot could be felt in the flesh and rang in unprotected ears. Even with a silencer, there was a punctuation to a gunshot that was immistakable, a reverberation in the ribs as shocked air rushed away from a point of ignition. 

Somehow, she found herself aware of it. Aware of this moment, and perchance that was fitting, as it would be her very last; her last breath, gasped in at the exact second of the shot. Her last impulse, to twitch upwards into a tense posture.

Her last thought, wondering if she really would continue on as the self that was still alive, or if that girl was an entirely separate existence that she’d never get to know. 

At least she’ll get to live.

-PAGEBREAK-

She awoke in the dark of her room, not in her bed but on the floor. It wasn’t like she’d fallen out of bed-- no, she was upright, sitting upon her knees. Kneeling. 

Her hand flew to her forehead, where she could almost still feel where the bullet had ripped through her. Feel the sensation of skin and skull giving way before her brain had been sundered and her awareness ended in a terrible lack of all. No dark, no light, no sound, nothing.

Terrible, terrible nothing. 

But that wasn’t what was here. No, she inhaled deeply and could smell the familiar scent of home. Her room, her blankets, the wood of the house-- even faint traces of the casserole her father had baked that night, probably not more than three or four hours ago. 

She was the girl. The girl that other version of her had been so worried about-- the one who didn’t get shot in the head, but had instead safely slept through the whole ordeal, believed sick by her parents and left alone. 

Her posture bent, her other hand feeding up into tangled curls of red hair, nails digging into her skull. 

She could still feel the track of the bullet, burning, searing, torn through-- the shock-wave that had gone through her brain and turned her gray matter into jelly.

She could still feel herself dying.

She wanted to claw it out. Rip her own head open just to make it stop, as if she could dig in and scratch away the offending sensation like one did an itch. Great balls of hair were gathered into fists, and she pulled, pulled until it hurt, pulled until she doubled over and cried into her knees. 

Somewhere behind her, she heard her phone buzz. The sound was distinct; vibration against a hard surface-- her end table? That was where she usually left it, but incidents of sleepwalking had left her phone in odd places before. 

Who cares? It’s crazy late. No one is gonna give a fuck whether I respond now or later. 

An excuse, an excuse to remain down with her eyes pressed into the tops of her knees, nose fitted into the crease between her legs and her merciless knuckles refusing to loosen their grip.

It buzzed again. And again. And again. And again. 

Serial murders snorting jizz, who the fuck needs me this badly at-- at-- at whatever fucking time this is?? 

Damnit, she had to let go of herself just to check the clock-- 1:00 AM. Oh. That time. 

Even as she confirmed it, the sudden barrage of what sounded like texts made even less sense. Who the fuck was blowing up her phone past midnight? Sniveling, wiping her eyes with the back of one hand, she toddled back to her bed and flopped over onto the soft surface of her mattress, reaching across for her phone to unlock it and see which name was taking over her notifications box.

Kenny. 

Suddenly, her little episode was near forgotten. She opened her messenger quickly, scared that something had happened, that Kenny needed her and she was just sitting in a heap in the middle of the floor, freaking out about a phantom bullet in her skull. 

[Received, 1:00] Hey [Received, 1:00] i no its rlly late but... [Received, 1:00] idk i just had this fucked up dream and it made me worry about u [Received, 1:00] just making sure ur ok [Received, 1:01] srry if i woke u

She blinked at the small wall of texts, having to scroll a little to see all of it. What was he talking about? What kind of dream? 

Was he suffering from a memory echo as well? Something from that aborted timeline, or one of the dozens of others she’d undone in the past in which he’d taken mortal damage? 

[Sent, 1:01] I’m awake... I actually just had a bad dream, too [Sent, 1:01] Well, not a dream. Memories. Y’know. I’ve told you about it before. [Sent, 1:01] You?

There was a pause, and she worried he may have fallen back asleep, having only been awake enough to send a bunch of texts before passing the fuck out again... but that theory was proved wrong a moment later. 

[Received, 1:03] same [Received , 1:03] its weird, i dont remember anything from it when im awake, but the dreams happen and its like remembering, like its real [Received, 1:04] then it fades away again. its almost gone right now [Received, 1:04] cartman was a zombie? he bit me, u pulled him off me, i ran away [Received, 1:04] i was scared for karen

That was something she hadn’t heard before-- then again, she could barely remember what happened half of the time. Certain things stuck in her mind, came and went, but it was so hard to hold two separate realities in the mind at the same time... and other timelines intruded upon her at seemingly random intervals as well. Things got intermixed all the time-- the only one that made the zombie time-line special was the fact that she died at the end of it, and that she’d been speaking to Kenny for a great deal of it... a first, in all of her mishaps through time. 

She read over his description, over and over, trying to make herself recall. She thought she did-- mostly she remembered Cartman’s bloated body falling down a set of stairs before she went after him to stomp on his fucking skull. The rest refused to remain solvent.

[Sent, 1:06] i remember him falling down the elementary school stairs.

[Received, 1:06] me too. u jumped on him. i watched long enough to make sure you were okay, but something was wrong with me. i had to run. [Received, 1:07] ... i think i went up to the roof? [Received, 1:07] ... i think i jumped. 

That’s one way to make sure you don’t hurt your sister. She couldn’t speak to any of that. She couldn’t remember leaving the elementary school, but she knew some short time after dealing with Cartman, she’d run into Dr. Kartwright, who had given her a cellphone with a message to convince her past self to take action. 

She didn’t know what to say to him, what might help. Did she tell him about her own nightmare? How the sensation of being shot haunted her? It felt like she didn’t have room to talk; he’d been through thousands of deaths, spoken about how each and every one of them was still vivid in his memory. That he knew what it was like to be impaled, burned, electrocuted, shot, stabbed, and many others... what was her single moment of suffering in the face of his much more tortuous state? 

Her screen blurred. She was tearing up again, swallowing over a lump in her throat while her cheeks burned in a mixture of shame and... and... she didn’t know what-- terror? The danger was past, she was alive, and still the horror of it robbed her of her sleep and left her in this empty and broken state, traumatized by an event that no longer existed. 

Sniffing, she typed.

[Sent, 1:09] Are you alright?  [Sent, 1:10] I think I’m going to be awake for a while if you need someone to talk to.

She rolled her head into her pillow, stifling a sob. 

[Received, 1:10] im good [Received, 1:11] i texted to see if u were ok [Received, 1:11] u said you had a dream too, what happened?

It took her several minutes of shoving her head into her pillow before she even lifted her head and peered at the new set of messages upon her softly glowing screen. She rolled onto her belly, sniffing hard and crumpling her pillow beneath her chest and staring down at her messenger, trying to figure out what to say while the tears once again came to a stop, although breathing was still harder than it should have been. 

He asked. She told herself. That makes it worth telling, right? 

She typed for longer than she meant to, going into details she’d half-forgotten by this point, but apparently her thumbs were able to uncover those little things-- the sound of the birds out in the woods, the way the leaf litter had felt under her knees, the smell of the oil Dr. Kartwright used to keep her gun clean.

She painted a terribly vivid picture, even to herself. She wrote of the moment, so much so that her phone had to pause a second and convert into a multimedia message because she’d typed too much for SMS. She’d gotten to waking up, the sensation that still itched inside her brain case.

She stared at it. Paragraphs of description, of the horror that had been replaying the most often for her these days. Why? Why this? Did her subconscious choose which moments to fixate upon? Why did this one have to keep coming back to her? 

She frowned faintly. Was she being over-dramatic? Maybe this was too much... 

[Received, 1:19] pls dont delete anything [Received, 1:19] i want to hear it

HOW THE FUCK DOES HE DO THAT??? Glaring at her phone-- no, no, she was pouting, pouting at her phone, she pressed and held on her great big text-block and hit the ‘select all’ button to copy it, delete it, and type a shorter message in its place.

[Sent, 1:20] WOULD YOU KINDLY EXPLAIN HOW YOU READ MY GODDAMN MIND?!

[Received, 1:20] i know u. u dont think your shit is worth talking about, worth listening to [Received, 1:21] it is. pls tell me?

Knows me too damn fucking well. If this were a spy movie, I’d have to kill him.

With a sigh, the text block was pasted back into the messenger, and she sent it-- her whole episode in grueling detail. 

Reading over it, seeing it confirmed as sent made her bury damp eyes into the fabric of her pillow once more. Something in her was so goddamn afraid, but she didn’t understand why. 

She remained there until her phone buzzed in her hands. Eyes were bleary and wet when she rose up, blinking a few times. 

Then she blinked a few more. 

[Received, 1:24] do u want me to come over? [Received, 1:24] i noticed ur basement has one of those little storm windows, i could slip in thru there and we could hang out

[Sent, 1:25] It’s past midnight on a school night, and you wanna hold my punching bag for me? 

[Received, 1:25] if itll make u feel better, yeah

... well, if he’s offering... 

[Sent, 1:26] I think it would. [Sent, 1:26] Thanks. 

[chezzkaa]

Kebabs & Catwalks - repost

A/N: Something ate this fic so thank you to the lovely anon that let me know it wasn’t happy. Lets try again, shall we?

Summary: Oh god, you missed him. Missed a smile so familiar you could recite the curves from memory, because it’s almost all you had left. Worlds apart and entangled in your own responsibilities, you’re desperately left scrambling to redirect the crash course. Ryan as equally frantic to keep hold of something - anything - that could say ‘I love you’ without breathing the damaging words.

wc: 3161

Your eyes sting while staring out onto the street, fingers drumming with thick absentminded thuds against the wheel as people pool from the building you’d recently escaped. Rivers of sparkling diamonds and luminescent fabrics shimmer with the immaculate crowds drifting away; peals of laughter throbbing with their footsteps to wander across the pavement and choke the surrounding bars. No attentions paid to the filth coating the paths, cigarette butts joining the hopes and dreams lurking in the gutters; internal screams of the less fortunate dusted in glitter.

You try to block out the throngs as they pass by the car, ignoring the nails sliding across the bonnet and disapproving looks piercing through the window. You loathed the haze of these events. The early morning hours releasing the higher class onto the world; drunk on self worth and bubbles. How must it feel to live without a care? To live every minute for pleasure, rushing with the bright lights darting past so fast you could never grasp them. Envy wasn’t the right word, but it was close.

Sympathy, knowing their world – a realm where there’s no darkness and no pain – would shatter in someone else’s hands. Someone like you. Bitter and desperate, scavenging as much as you could to siphon away and subdue the ugly responsibilities threatening to cry for attention. Cloak the fear and plug the expenses; hoping word of your mother would never come. The high and mighty being robbed of their riches was nothing compared to the way society had robbed them of their humanity, leaving nothing but a counterfeit illusion in its place. Beautiful and mesmerising but eternally hollow. Nothing more than shells left to rattle through life without goals or direction, without an understanding of pain and loss that wasn’t gold plated.

Normally you’d stomach it, put on the confident alluring smile and don the garish dress like you belonged, like you shared their sparkling positivity in a world falling apart; but not tonight. Nor any time in the past two months. The air had been far too heavy, suffocating just enough to leave you gasping. Every step forward pushed you further back, knees crying out and trying to buckle; body wanting to hurtle to the ground and let out an almighty scream of defeat. How much longer could you continue to construct a future out of broken pieces? Their edges wicked sharp against your skin, memories dripping from the cuts while patch together something you should have abandoned long ago.

Perhaps the right word was envy.

You were jealous of how easy breathing was on the other side, how simple it was to dive into a pool of naivety and drown the sorrow away with a sip of something fizzy. You wanted nothing more that to spend a night free from the nightmares, have a morning that didn’t ache in the centre of your chest. You craved an hour where you didn’t have to think, desperate for the feeling of a comfort only arms could bring. You didn’t want to avoid the ringing phone for fear of bad news, couldn’t stomach the path you were left to spiral into. What wouldn’t you give for a moment’s peace? A need to indulge in something so incredibly inhuman it might stifle the screams of your mind. The tears feeling like they’re constantly falling; but never seem too. Just something to stop the world turning, just an instance where things aren’t moving too fast while you’re stuck in one spot, feet welded to the nothingness. You just needed him, just… just some form of him.

You shift in the abrasive driver’s seat, mind wandering sluggishly to the night you’d ghosted through, haunting a world that seemed far too bright. None of it made sense, the throbbing lights and words having formed a pile of gibberish at your feet. The memory of your thighs plastering to the seat at the edge of the catwalk sears through your sleepy mind, an incredible contrast against the course fabric now tracing impressions into the skin – and the only sense of reality you’d experienced in hours. Sat alone in your stiflingly warm car the night spins, a nauseating ache stretching along your shoulders as exhaustion recites sonnets across your ribs.

Behind your closed eyes the looks of disdain from designers and investors burn in the darkness, unpicking the pieces of your life you’d managed to stitch back together, edges fraying to pull apart. You’d done your best, unaware that the elegant cocktail dress you’d slipped into had no way near enough glitter mask the fact that you didn’t belong. Your bare legs had screamed for unwanted attention; shrouded in enough sheer floor length fabric that retiring the dress could see you with a new set of curtains.

Your eyes flick to the car mirror to break the stream of thought, frowning at the dark circles and their refusal to be subdued. You painfully recall the frustration left rattling inside, planted in the centre of your bedroom and staring at your body; so exhausted and so close to tears that anything would set the tears rolling. You hadn’t gotten better over the course of the night. The lights of the street chasing hollow shadows across your cheekbones; lips forming a thinly pressed line at the thought of picking up another paper and continuing the pattern.

You were far too empty for the airs and graces, the words crammed into textbooks nagging every waking moment and joining the anxieties plaguing you during sleep. Every day left you trying to juggle your studies and family, your night life overtaken with need to cover the expenses of the lives you were responsible for. Everything was pressing so hard against your shoulders they creaked. You couldn’t count the times you’d fallen asleep with your cheek pressed against a page, slumped against your desk. Didn’t want to think about how often you’d drifted off to the sound of Jon’s tears dancing with yours through the phone.

How long had it been since you’d slept in your own bed as opposed to the couch?

The desk?

The car?

Ryan had gone past the point of rousing you, struggling to lift his own head let alone carry you inside. If he didn’t curl up at your side or slump in the carpet by your feet he’d instead let you to sleep where you fell, a blanket draped across what he could. It was one of the few signs he existed, a persistent memory that just wouldn’t leave you to wallow, a spectre you’d see from the corner of your eye. Without fail there’d be a cold cup of tea left in the kitchen when morning finally rolled around, a parting gift and apology haunting a world neither of you truly had time to fit into anymore.

Your schedules rarely coincided. The jobs, study, and crime cancelling out free time and dictating ridiculous hours; responsibilities steering you further away from him. He was no different, left to spiral through a world he had no grip on, following the motions for fear of defiance; because what would happen to the two of you then? Try all you want, you were lucky to see Ryan more than once a week for longer than an hour at a time. It was a constant drain, the world leeching what little life you had left. Hours ago you’d frantically photographed textbook pages on your bedroom floor, throwing on what you could to rush out the door for the two hour trip. A block of time opening with the opportunity to finally see him; even if it meant you were to divert your eyes between designers and work.

You’d do anything to see that man smile, your presence at the show having meant the world to him after being absent for so, so long. Against your closed lids you could still see his face lighting up, eyes falling to the uncontrollable beam you’d returned; pride having hammered in your chest. The distance had been straining for you both, but surely it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. Even the sight of him stung, mind desperately trying to steer from the emotions that had caused so much complex pain, lashing against the part of you that needed him. Every smile that decorated his lips sent your heart fluttering, the delight in his deep shimmering eyes sparking the gasoline running in your veins. Even now the thought of his excitement and fingers twitching out to subtly wave as he continued along the stage made you ache, overwhelming your body and pressing against your shoulders until there was nothing else to do but feel.

The sound of the passenger door opening drags away the thoughts you’d lost in the crowd, Ryan slinking into the seat with a tired sigh and puffy eyes.  You offer him a comforting smile, heart squeezing as he removes the hood hiding his weary face, makeup and defeat caught in the waves of his hair. Streaks of red and silver cut as sharp as blades across his cheeks, relief and exhaustion gushing to fill the car and engulf you in confusing ecstasy. He leans back, head against the seat before his eyes drift closed, gentle rasp forming a groan in the back of his throat while his fingers find your own.

Reaching out your remaining hand to brush away the loose strands of hair, you. At your touch his eyes peel open, thanks swimming in the crystal blue depths as they meet yours, a sleepy smile pulling lopsided across his lips.

“Hey there,” you breathe, fingers brushing the strong line of his jaw reassuringly.

He lets out a chuckle, running warm against your knuckles, “hey, you made it.”

“Of course,” you smile, skin dusted with an orange glow as the interior light fades with your worries, if only for a little while. “I told you I wouldn’t miss this one.”

He nuzzles unconsciously against your fingers before realising he’s indulging in the guilty need for you, catching himself with wide eyes and a clumsy plough forward to distract the joy his heart felt; fearful of falling back into damaging habits. “I was sceptical, I’ll admit it.”

“Understandable, I’ve been a shit recently.”

“You’re a shit all the time,” he grins, the expression becoming difficult in his sleep drunk state, “I expect nothing less.”

“Well, I’m gonna kick the habit,” you state firmly, the hope in Ryan’s eyes leaping as high as your heart.

While retracting your hand you can’t help but sympathise – he looked almost as tired as you felt. You could almost trace the progression of the day and anxieties of the year with each slump and curve. The world had dragged him down and held on, constantly throw trial after trial into his path to leave him stumbling to stay standing. You’d never met someone more dedicated or more determined than Ryan, everything he did building towards a brighter future; even if it meant steeping his past in an inescapable darkness.

“You did amazing, Pooky,” is all you manage, eyes searching the lines of his face and the bump of his nose, face seemingly chiselled every day into a deep brooding whenever it settled.

“You’d be surprised how exhausting a catwalk and heels can be.”

Laughing you start up the car, manoeuvring through the groups lingering in the road, trying to leave your concerns behind.

“But your calves looked so good,” you giggle, casting a quick sideways glance and catching the smile he made no attempt to suppress.

“Hell yeah they did.”

“You hungry?” The question almost seems pointless after the monumental growl of his stomach, Ryan’s smile turning sheepish as it widens.

“I’m always hungry.”

“Its 1 am, what crap are we clogging our arteries with this time?” He runs a scarred hand through his short hair thoughtfully, ruffling the back to leave it spiked and messy.

“I want… kebabs.” You raise a delicate eyebrow while redirecting the car, wheels tugging against the road as you curve with the corner to exit the city.

“like, truck stop kebabs?”

His eyes light up at the suggestion, exhaustion ebbing away while he nods, “is there any other kind?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” you laugh, pulling to a stop to let a gaggle of well dressed women cross, their eyes passing over you to settle on Ryan; recognising him from the show.Before they can continue approaching the window and push Ryan further down in his seat you’re peeling off, whisking him away and leaving them in the spots of rain beginning to fall.

“I passed one on the way here,” you muse, signalling to enter the relatively empty line of traffic leading away from the throbbing lights and constant life of the city, zipping between the larger cars with ease and grace. “The whole place just screamed greasy.”

“It sounds perfect, put it in me.”

The fond warmth grows in your chest while you laugh; settling into the relaxed comfort that always engulfed you whenever Ryan was around. No matter what you’d been through, nor how long it had been since you’d actually sat down to talk; everything was always easy. Never running out of conversation, but that didn’t mean silence was uncomfortable. More often than not you’d simply curl into each other in the soft quiet hum of your apartment, needing nothing but the company to ease the day’s pain. As you’re thinking Ryan slowly drifts off, eyes fluttering shut and incredibly full eyelashes brushing the tops of his pinking cheeks. In sleep all stress melts from his features; then all that’s left is long drive filled with Ryan’s soft snores and a stinging light rushing overhead.

“Garlic sauce?”

You nod vigorously up at the vendor, his slick smile as greasy as the food, though warm and friendly. “just load them up with everything you’ve got.” He laughs, piling on as much cheese and meat as possible, littering the piles with onion before beginning to wrap. Shrugging up the sleeves of Ryan’s coat as it slips from your shoulders, you’re on your tiptoes to swipe the diet cokes the man offers; passing them to Ryan’s waiting hands.

“I’ll find us a spot,” he states, casting his eyes across the empty parking lot surrounding the truck stop and kebab station. You point, finger barely protruding from the coat’s cuff to a grassy bank by the side of the road.

“Try by the fire hydrant.”

“Ah, the fire hydrant, the classiest of date spots,” he teases, the remaining makeup splattering his cheeks sparkling as bright as his smile while he heads over; your words chasing after him.

“You wish you could score a date with me!”

“I really do…”

His admittance plays havoc as you turn to accept the two kebabs, skin running cold and restless in the cold breeze chilling your nose. Thanking the vendor you try not to think of your relationship with Ryan, yet the memories rushing through your mind far too fast. Moments of pure, utter joy shifting to fearful anger as life races by with the passing cars; nipping at your heels while making your way to Ryan, his back to you and face tilted to the star spotted sky. The first and hopefully last dangerous blows of intense emotion had seen your lives torn apart, the two of you still attempting to gather up the pieces and create a different image as opposed to the romance you’d envisioned.

Having Ryan in your life was worth it, even if every moment was potentially painful. The two of you would constantly orbit back to each other without intending to, and it wasn’t for a lack of trying. Somehow you’d always end up in the same obscure place at the same unusual time; and you’d eventually been forced to accept it. You we’re stuck with each other, left to battle with the dangerous emotions and chaotic possibilities. Trapped to face the man you loved, unable to speak the words for fear of the uncontrollable dangers of jealousy, anger and disdain that inevitable tore you apart.

Settling down beside him you offer the kebab, his fingers rolling it in his hands to warm his palms. Shuffling closer your sides pressing together as you peel away the foil, smell removing the lining off your stomach, “he made yours extra oily.”

“My hero,” he beams while holding the kebab out to you for a toast; chuckling as you reluctantly lower the food and hover beside his.

“To us,” he cheers, an earnest smile on his face and an admiration locked in his eyes, stretching your heart uncomfortably.

“To a future that’s a little less chaotic.” A tap of your meals sees him delving in, satisfied hums resonating in his throat as the greasy food touches his lips. Following without hesitation you take the first bite, garlic hitting hard and cheese nothing more than a rich afterthought.

“You know,” he notes between mouthfuls and sips of diet coke, face yet again turned to the stars, “you’re too young to be this busy.”

“You act like you’re ancient. I mean, yeah I’m 20,” you grumble, bumping shoulders, “and I couldn’t agree more, but that’s not the point.”

“God,” he sighs reminiscently, thinking back with fondness, “what was I even doing at 20? That was like, 5 whole years ago.”

“Those whole years really make a difference, way more important than regular years.”

“They really do.”

“I reckon you were waiting for me,” you joke, smile teasing across your lips as he shoots you an amused glare, “that or being a huge nerd. Wait, you’re still a massive fucking goof.”

“Ouch,” he mocks, swiping a stray piece of meat from your kebab, chuckling at your protests. “You know, honestly not much has changed since then. Same routine, I wash the blood off my hands one at a time, just like any other psychotic monster.” You raise an eyebrow questioningly, his eyes falling to meet yours. “Well, I mean things are a lot less lonely and I don’t murder for the sake of it anymore. I’ve got you now. You help hide the evidence.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

“Were do you think we’ll be in another 10 years?” His question surprises you, soft tone caressing an idea so fragile that you’d hadn’t considered it since the emotional explosion that ripped away your dreams; shattering your last 10 year plan to pieces.

“I don’t know,” you admit while resting your head against his shoulder, continuing to pick apart you meal, “but I hope to still be annoying the crap outta you.”

“I hope so too,” he agrees, turning to rest his chin atop your head, warmth radiating from his neck across your skin, “maybe we could retire somewhere abroad?”

“You want to live in a holiday destination?”

“Yeah,” he pulls away to wave his kebab at you, hope still somehow worming into his expression despite the odds threatening the future.

“Thinking maybe Greece?”

[thefilmsnob]

Glen Coco’s Top 10 Mega Man Themes of All Time!

Can you think of a game that has better music than Mega Man? You can’t because it doesn’t exist. Well, it might, but I’m not really thinking it through. Let’s just say the people who composed the music for Mega Man should all be billionaires and knighted.

Because of my love for Mega Man and the songs that accompany him on his robojourney, I thought it would be swell to list the absolute greatest 10 theme songs from the classic series. It wasn’t easy narrowing the field to just 10 tracks considering this music is better than anything Mozart put out, but I feel like I’ve chosen the best songs and supported my decisions well despite having absolutely no experience in music criticism. You’ll see. 

But, that’s neither here nor there. I now present the 10 greatest Mega Man themes of all time. I’ve added links under the entries, so you can drool over the music, as well as three runners up. Omitting these three songs is torturing me, but making tough decisions like this is why I get paid so much for this job hahaha just kidding, no one gets paid to write. Here’s the list:

Runners-Up

Flash Man (Mega Man 2)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_osNdk1mKRs

Spark Man (Mega Man 3)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xP-Yjn1E05M

Tomahawk Man (Mega Man 6)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hz-3Xd43OGo

Top 10

#10. Cut Man (Mega Man)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PAeIMQierX4&t=1s

Cut Man’s theme is a great example of early Nintendo music that was more chipper and grainier in a charming way. This song makes you feel excited to control Mega Man and see where the adventure takes you. It’s uplifting, yes, but with a hint of darkness that says, “You can do it, but be wary.” The opening seconds of this song are really choppy, too, which is appropriate for this choppy kind of villain. In fact, the whole song brings to mind a pair of scissors flying around chaotically, slicing the air as they go. The original Mega Man had some great tracks, but this was the most lively and, indeed, the  best one of them all.

#9. Plant Man (Mega Man 6)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WN_7Wy0RT00

This song from Plant Man’s rather unique forest stage is pretty complex. It starts out as a pleasant and optimistic tune as if it’s the soundtrack to an afternoon cruise on your day off. You think this carefree lifestyle can last forever, but then reality sinks in and the song breaks down to a very different tune as if the music is telling you, “Hey, listen, it’s not all fun and games. You have work to do.” And then it starts all over again, but now you feel even more prepared to take on the challenges that await.

  #8. Shade Man (Mega Man 7)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VxSWjJmz1Dk

Shade Man’s theme is both scary and epic. I mean, when is something ever scary and epic? It’s almost unheard of. The song plays in a graveyard/haunted house themed level and it fits perfectly. It starts out slow and eerie, but as it progresses it becomes more upbeat, providing  you with that extra boost you need to get past the monsters. If this song isn’t called ‘Mega Man Faces His Fears’ then I feel sad for the creators. You just know this is the anthem Mega Man has in his head while exchanging blows with ghouls and goblins. In an installment with mediocre music and no other entries on this list, ‘Mega Man Faces His Fears’ shines through.

  #7. Flame Man (Mega Man 6)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eKHVUupbqx0

For a Mega Man theme, Flame Man’s has an unusually long build up. Most of these songs sound like they were written by someone on crack; they start fast and insane and stay that way for 20 seconds until they repeat. This one progresses slowly and it doesn’t seem entirely thrilling at first. It gets a little more exciting and you start to think, “Okay, I’m biting” and then all of a sudden this magnificent chorus hits you like a punch in the face providing an immediate blissful high...much like the high the crack head composers felt while writing the music. The song also has a delightful Middle Eastern influence that matches the level and boss designs.

  #6. Splash Woman (Mega Man 9)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l7qcJwJfyyk

Splash Woman’s music isn’t an instant hit. In fact, its merits were really only recognized by this observer when he was doing his research for this unnecessary article. But this song gets you right in the heart and soul. It’s a rare Mega Man song that is actually gentle and soothing, but also entirely motivating. There’s even an unusual poignancy during the flute section that produces an unreasonably strong emotional response. After the flutes, the song continues in a similar fashion as the opening, but with a little more urgency. This is a perfect song for an underwater level or if you need to feel like you’re being nurtured by a dear friend or loved one. 

  #5. Galaxy Man (Mega Man 9)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AdDbbzuq1vY

This song is crack cocaine. It’s crack cocaine in music form. It may be the most frantic song in Mega Man history. There’s just so much energy in this one short minute of sound and it takes you places you never thought you’d go. As soon as you’re accustomed to a section of the song and feel like it’s reached its prime, it switches on you instantly and becomes even more intense, constantly pumping you up to battle more spaceships in this crazy outer space level. And, obviously, Galaxy Man requires a theme that sounds futuristic, so guess what? That’s what you get, friend. Just try not moving your head to this sound cocaine. If you say you can, we’re not friends because I’m not in the business of associating with liars.

  #4. Wood Man (Mega Man 2)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WvAAOmoEftg

That drum solo. That drum solo that opens this song is pure bliss. This is the sound of my childhood as well as the childhoods of about 92% of North Americans and 107% of the Japanese population. If you don’t like that drum solo...you’re an asshole. This gets you pumped up to kill robot tigers in the woods before you even have the chance to move Mr. Blue Boy. Following the intro, there’s a sharp, but exquisite breakdown leading into some of the most pleasing, memorable and inspirational music of the series. Near the end of the loop, the same great melody plays but in a higher pitch with an incredibly crisp sound that feels like it’s coming from the heavens. Ya, it’s slightly repetitive, but beauty on repeat is A-Ok in this guy’s books. 

  #3. Wily’s Castle: Stage 2 (Mega Man 9)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_K9-SwNBMSY

Where did this song come from?!? Is this Mega Man? This is more of a symphony for crying out loud. The theme has such a different feel and is far more complex than any other song in the Mega Man catalogue, but it’s entirely welcome. A song like this could only be found in Wily’s Fortress. It’s so urgent and magical and screams Nintendo. And, whereas most Mega Man themes repeat after 30 seconds or so, this one keeps going for days and changes drastically throughout as if telling an epic story. There are so many moving parts to this anthem it’ll blow your mind. Fans might overlook the song because it’s tucked away in the ninth game in the middle of Wily’s crib, but this is one of the most unique pieces of music from the series. Who wrote this, a wizard?!?

#2. Metal Man (Mega Man 2)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7y82DgpgrC0

I’m sure many fans would agree, but I consider the first Mega Man as more of a prelude to the rest of the series. It’s a good game, but highly difficult and unpolished, feeling more like an intriguing prototype. To me, Mega Man 2 is the true start of the series and any fan who knows anything about anything knows that you play Metal Man’s stage first. Ergo, this is the theme that introduces you to the world of Mega Man. When you hear this theme, you know you’re about to go on an epic adventure and it sets the tone perfectly, especially if you’re looking forward to playing all the subsequent games. In many ways, it’s the theme that produces the most excitement. At first, it feels like a fairly straightforward tune, but then you start to notice all these delightful nuances beneath the surface. Like metal (ahem) this song is both smooth and choppy and the shifts between the two qualities work perfectly. Altogether, this is an energetic, inspirational and complex tune that’ll pump you up for what’s to come. 

  #1. Wily’s Castle: Stage 1 & 2 (Mega Man 2)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WJRoRt155mA&t=92s

This should be no surprise to fans of the series, not only because it tops so many lists of best Mega Man themes, but because this is quite possibly the greatest song known to mankind. You’ve just defeated all eight robot masters and now it’s time to battle your way through Dr. Wily’s fortress. It’s the beginning of the endgame for the boy robot and this music adds a giant exclamation point. It’s the real deal. The music starts aggressive and maintains that relentless fast pace throughout. There are undertones of doubt in the song that threaten to surface, but the optimism within casts a shadow on any negativity and wins the day. And the frequent shifts in pitch just add to the epic nature of this musical equivalent of intercourse. This truly majestic work of art is inspirational, catchy, complex, and just plain awesome. If this doesn’t pump you up for the rest of the game or series or even life itself, you’re a shell of a human being. I want this theme played at my wedding. Would it be wildly inappropriate? You bet. But this song is so good that I’m willing to ruin my wedding and countless lives just to force it upon the people I love most.  

[samanthasroberts]

Thursday briefing: Hurricane Irma flattens Caribbean communities

Atlantics biggest ever storm brings death and devastation the great British beer rip-off and how the aristocracy has kept its vice-like grip on wealth and power

Top story: Mega-storm carves destructive path

Good morning – it’s Warren Murray with the news from near and far.

Hurricane Irma has left a trail of destruction through the Caribbean. The emergency is continuing and so is our live coverage. Tiny nation-states and territories such as Antigua and Barbuda have been among the worst affected thus far by the most powerful storm ever recorded in the Atlantic Ocean.

There has been massive property destruction on the island of Barbuda, while St Martin and St Barthélemy have also been heavily battered. Multiple fatalities have been reported – at least six people died in the French part of St Martin, local officials said. In Puerto Rico 965,000 people were left without power and nearly 50,000 without water.

Play Video

1:10

Hurricane Irma reaches the Caribbean – video report

Irma is heading towards the US mainland and authorities have warned it could strike southern Florida by Sunday afternoon. There are evacuation orders in Miami-Dade county. Donald Trump declared a state of emergency in Florida, Puerto Rico and the US Virgin Islands. Hurricane Jose has also formed in the open Atlantic, and Hurricane Katia in the Gulf off the coast of Mexico. Jose posed no immediate threat to land at time of writing, according to forecasters, but Katia may threaten the coast of Mexico where officials have issued a hurricane watch.

‘See what happens’ – South Korea has commenced the full deployment of the controversial Thaad missile defence system amid protests, while China has held air warfare exercises off the Korean peninsula as tensions continue to simmer following the North’s nuclear test. The White House says Donald Trump is ready to invoke sanctions against any country that trades with Kim Jong-un’s regime if the UN security fails to take action. Trump said after a phone call with Xi Jinping, the president of China – North Korea’s biggest trading partner – that “we will not be putting up with what’s happening in North Korea”. Asked if he was considering military action against the North, Trump said: “Certainly that’s not our first choice, but we will see what happens.”

As if Asia wasn’t already tense enough, India’s army chief has warned of the potential for simultaneous war with China and Pakistan after his country was involved in a tense 10-week standoff over disputed Himalayan territory. General Bipin Rawat said that situation could still snowball into a conflict with China that Pakistan would be able to exploit. “We have to be prepared … warfare lies within the realm of reality,” Rawat said.

The Brexit leaks – Fallout continues after the Guardian’s exclusive revelations about government Brexit policy papers. This morning we are reporting on leaked documents that show the deep divide between the negotiating positions of the EU and Britain. According to these latest files, Brussels is soon to publish five combative position papers – including one that demands Britain solve the problem of the Irish border, and others setting out demands for protecting EU goods, companies and data. The leaks come a day after the Guardian obtained a draft memo setting out a hardline British position on post-Brexit EU migration that has been heavily criticised as “completely confused”, “economically illiterate” and “catastrophic” for industry – as well as causing deep alarm among EU citizens living and working in the UK.

‘Atrocity’ – Spain’s government is furious after the regional parliament in Catalonia voted to stage an independence referendum. Perennial separatist agitations came to a head in Barcelona when the ruling pro-sovereignty coalition pushed through legislation by 72 votes to 52 to hold the plebiscite on 1 October. Opposition lawmakers walked out of the chamber. Spain’s central government is going to the constitutional court seeking to have the parliament’s vote annulled, and public prosecutors are filing charges against the Catalan speaker for allowing it. Courts have previously banned moves towards Catalan independence as unconstitutional.

Surrey pint is UK’s dearest – London has lost its dubious mantle as the most expensive place to buy a beer. In affluent Surrey, where house prices are double the national average, a pint now costs £4.40, which is 20p more than you will pay in the capital. It is the first time this has happened since 1982. Fiona Stapley, editor of the Good Pub Guide 2018, said the ranking may be skewed slightly by the guide featuring so many smaller, local boozers – making London seem “cheaper” than it really is. London and Surrey are the only two areas officially in the guide’s rip-off category. Herefordshire and Yorkshire are the cheapest at £3.31 for a pint, followed closely by Shropshire.

Load of flannel – At the Guardian Morning Briefing, we are dedicated to tackling the big issues facing the world. Today’s conundrum crying out for some peer-reviewed science: how often to wash your pyjamas. There are actual people who do it every day (“neurotics”) and some who almost never (“mingers”). Professor Sally Bloomfield, from the International Scientific Forum on Home Hygiene, says the longer you leave it, the more your risk spreading your personal crop of bacteria and viruses to someone else or, errm, parts of your own body where they might be unwelcome. For most households, says Bloomfield, once a week should be adequate – though her own admission to sleeping in the nuddy may throw her credentials into some doubt.

Lunchtime read: Why the aristocracy are still in charge

While the majority of hereditary peers have been excluded from the House of Lords, the rich, landed and powerful have plenty of other ways to maintain their dominion, writes Chris Bryant.

Lord Grimthorpe and the Duke of Devonshire at Royal Ascot 2015. Photograph: Charlie Crowhurst/Getty Images for Ascot Racecourse

The Labour MP indicts Britain’s aristocracy as historically motivated by “not a noble aspiration to serve the common weal but a desperate desire for self-advancement … They grasped wealth, corruptly carved out their niche at the pinnacle of society and held on to it with a vice-like grip”. Despite social changes, a third of Britain’s land still belongs to them, including some of the most prestigious and valuable real estate in the world. Tax breaks and other forms of official favour preserve their privilege, while British law keeps the full extent of their wealth hidden underground. They still live in castles on sprawling estates, and play with guns, horses and hounds – existing “wrapped in the old aura of entitlement, counting their blessings and hoping that nobody notices”.

Sport

Tennis fans in New York will once again miss out on a Roger Federer-Rafael Nadal encounter after Juan Martín del Potro downed the Swiss to reach the semi-finals at Flushing Meadows. Nadal, the world No1, took just an hour and 36 minutes to beat Andrey Rublev to book his place in the final four.

In the women’s draw, an American champion is guaranteed after all four semi-final spots were taken by home players – Madison Keys, Coco Vandeweghe, Venus Williams and Sloane Stephens – for the first time since 1981. The London 2012 bid team have defended themselves against any suggestion of corruption, insisting they are “as close to certain as possible” the right to host the Olympics in the capital was won cleanly. Manu Tuilagi’s prospects of an England comeback this autumn have suffered another blow after it emerged he is set to undergo knee surgery this week. And Jamie Vardy’s football academy is already bearing fruit with four of its first intake taken on by professional clubs.

Business

Asian stocks bounced back into the black overnight after Donald Trump threw his weight behind a plan to extend the US government’s debt ceiling. But some investors cautioned that it is only a temporary fix until December and could come back to haunt the markets later in the year.

The FTSE100 is expected to see a modest rise when it opens later. The pound is buying $1.304 and €1,093.

The papers

A mixed bag of fronts today, although many papers do feature Hurricane Irma as it carves across the Caribbean. The i has the daunting headline “May God protect us all” – there are millions of people at risk and mass evacuations are under way.

Guardian front page, 7 September 2017.

The FT splashes on disquiet among some of the UK’s biggest companies at perceived “strong-arm” tactics by Downing Street, which wants them to sign a letter praising the government’s approach to Brexit. The Telegraph leads with Brexit as well, saying Theresa May’s plans are “in disarray” as two of her most senior ministers “distanced themselves” from leaked immigration policies.

Those draft policies were leaked to us at the Guardian, and our front pagecontinues with more exclusive revelations about the UK’s and the EU’s conflicting positions on Brexit.

The Sun leads with the headline: “Wazza off the Razza” and says Wayne Rooney has vowed to cut back on his big nights out. The Times leads with “Crackdown on university pay” and says institutions will be fined if they fail to justify paying their vice-chancellors more than the prime minister. The Mail’s mainstory is that half of GPs want to close their patients list because surgeries are full. Lastly, the Mirror splashes with “School bans skirts” and says parents in Lewes are unhappy with the introduction of gender-neutral clothing.

Sign up

If you would like to receive the Guardian Morning Briefing by email, bright and early every weekday, sign up here.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/thursday-briefing-hurricane-irma-flattens-caribbean-communities/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2019/02/09/thursday-briefing-hurricane-irma-flattens-caribbean-communities/

[allofbeercom]

Thursday briefing: Hurricane Irma flattens Caribbean communities

Atlantics biggest ever storm brings death and devastation the great British beer rip-off and how the aristocracy has kept its vice-like grip on wealth and power

Top story: Mega-storm carves destructive path

Good morning – it’s Warren Murray with the news from near and far.

Hurricane Irma has left a trail of destruction through the Caribbean. The emergency is continuing and so is our live coverage. Tiny nation-states and territories such as Antigua and Barbuda have been among the worst affected thus far by the most powerful storm ever recorded in the Atlantic Ocean.

There has been massive property destruction on the island of Barbuda, while St Martin and St Barthélemy have also been heavily battered. Multiple fatalities have been reported – at least six people died in the French part of St Martin, local officials said. In Puerto Rico 965,000 people were left without power and nearly 50,000 without water.

Play Video

1:10

Hurricane Irma reaches the Caribbean – video report

Irma is heading towards the US mainland and authorities have warned it could strike southern Florida by Sunday afternoon. There are evacuation orders in Miami-Dade county. Donald Trump declared a state of emergency in Florida, Puerto Rico and the US Virgin Islands. Hurricane Jose has also formed in the open Atlantic, and Hurricane Katia in the Gulf off the coast of Mexico. Jose posed no immediate threat to land at time of writing, according to forecasters, but Katia may threaten the coast of Mexico where officials have issued a hurricane watch.

‘See what happens’ – South Korea has commenced the full deployment of the controversial Thaad missile defence system amid protests, while China has held air warfare exercises off the Korean peninsula as tensions continue to simmer following the North’s nuclear test. The White House says Donald Trump is ready to invoke sanctions against any country that trades with Kim Jong-un’s regime if the UN security fails to take action. Trump said after a phone call with Xi Jinping, the president of China – North Korea’s biggest trading partner – that “we will not be putting up with what’s happening in North Korea”. Asked if he was considering military action against the North, Trump said: “Certainly that’s not our first choice, but we will see what happens.”

As if Asia wasn’t already tense enough, India’s army chief has warned of the potential for simultaneous war with China and Pakistan after his country was involved in a tense 10-week standoff over disputed Himalayan territory. General Bipin Rawat said that situation could still snowball into a conflict with China that Pakistan would be able to exploit. “We have to be prepared … warfare lies within the realm of reality,” Rawat said.

The Brexit leaks – Fallout continues after the Guardian’s exclusive revelations about government Brexit policy papers. This morning we are reporting on leaked documents that show the deep divide between the negotiating positions of the EU and Britain. According to these latest files, Brussels is soon to publish five combative position papers – including one that demands Britain solve the problem of the Irish border, and others setting out demands for protecting EU goods, companies and data. The leaks come a day after the Guardian obtained a draft memo setting out a hardline British position on post-Brexit EU migration that has been heavily criticised as “completely confused”, “economically illiterate” and “catastrophic” for industry – as well as causing deep alarm among EU citizens living and working in the UK.

‘Atrocity’ – Spain’s government is furious after the regional parliament in Catalonia voted to stage an independence referendum. Perennial separatist agitations came to a head in Barcelona when the ruling pro-sovereignty coalition pushed through legislation by 72 votes to 52 to hold the plebiscite on 1 October. Opposition lawmakers walked out of the chamber. Spain’s central government is going to the constitutional court seeking to have the parliament’s vote annulled, and public prosecutors are filing charges against the Catalan speaker for allowing it. Courts have previously banned moves towards Catalan independence as unconstitutional.

Surrey pint is UK’s dearest – London has lost its dubious mantle as the most expensive place to buy a beer. In affluent Surrey, where house prices are double the national average, a pint now costs £4.40, which is 20p more than you will pay in the capital. It is the first time this has happened since 1982. Fiona Stapley, editor of the Good Pub Guide 2018, said the ranking may be skewed slightly by the guide featuring so many smaller, local boozers – making London seem “cheaper” than it really is. London and Surrey are the only two areas officially in the guide’s rip-off category. Herefordshire and Yorkshire are the cheapest at £3.31 for a pint, followed closely by Shropshire.

Load of flannel – At the Guardian Morning Briefing, we are dedicated to tackling the big issues facing the world. Today’s conundrum crying out for some peer-reviewed science: how often to wash your pyjamas. There are actual people who do it every day (“neurotics”) and some who almost never (“mingers”). Professor Sally Bloomfield, from the International Scientific Forum on Home Hygiene, says the longer you leave it, the more your risk spreading your personal crop of bacteria and viruses to someone else or, errm, parts of your own body where they might be unwelcome. For most households, says Bloomfield, once a week should be adequate – though her own admission to sleeping in the nuddy may throw her credentials into some doubt.

Lunchtime read: Why the aristocracy are still in charge

While the majority of hereditary peers have been excluded from the House of Lords, the rich, landed and powerful have plenty of other ways to maintain their dominion, writes Chris Bryant.

Lord Grimthorpe and the Duke of Devonshire at Royal Ascot 2015. Photograph: Charlie Crowhurst/Getty Images for Ascot Racecourse

The Labour MP indicts Britain’s aristocracy as historically motivated by “not a noble aspiration to serve the common weal but a desperate desire for self-advancement … They grasped wealth, corruptly carved out their niche at the pinnacle of society and held on to it with a vice-like grip”. Despite social changes, a third of Britain’s land still belongs to them, including some of the most prestigious and valuable real estate in the world. Tax breaks and other forms of official favour preserve their privilege, while British law keeps the full extent of their wealth hidden underground. They still live in castles on sprawling estates, and play with guns, horses and hounds – existing “wrapped in the old aura of entitlement, counting their blessings and hoping that nobody notices”.

Sport

Tennis fans in New York will once again miss out on a Roger Federer-Rafael Nadal encounter after Juan Martín del Potro downed the Swiss to reach the semi-finals at Flushing Meadows. Nadal, the world No1, took just an hour and 36 minutes to beat Andrey Rublev to book his place in the final four.

In the women’s draw, an American champion is guaranteed after all four semi-final spots were taken by home players – Madison Keys, Coco Vandeweghe, Venus Williams and Sloane Stephens – for the first time since 1981. The London 2012 bid team have defended themselves against any suggestion of corruption, insisting they are “as close to certain as possible” the right to host the Olympics in the capital was won cleanly. Manu Tuilagi’s prospects of an England comeback this autumn have suffered another blow after it emerged he is set to undergo knee surgery this week. And Jamie Vardy’s football academy is already bearing fruit with four of its first intake taken on by professional clubs.

Business

Asian stocks bounced back into the black overnight after Donald Trump threw his weight behind a plan to extend the US government’s debt ceiling. But some investors cautioned that it is only a temporary fix until December and could come back to haunt the markets later in the year.

The FTSE100 is expected to see a modest rise when it opens later. The pound is buying $1.304 and €1,093.

The papers

A mixed bag of fronts today, although many papers do feature Hurricane Irma as it carves across the Caribbean. The i has the daunting headline “May God protect us all” – there are millions of people at risk and mass evacuations are under way.

Guardian front page, 7 September 2017.

The FT splashes on disquiet among some of the UK’s biggest companies at perceived “strong-arm” tactics by Downing Street, which wants them to sign a letter praising the government’s approach to Brexit. The Telegraph leads with Brexit as well, saying Theresa May’s plans are “in disarray” as two of her most senior ministers “distanced themselves” from leaked immigration policies.

Those draft policies were leaked to us at the Guardian, and our front pagecontinues with more exclusive revelations about the UK’s and the EU’s conflicting positions on Brexit.

The Sun leads with the headline: “Wazza off the Razza” and says Wayne Rooney has vowed to cut back on his big nights out. The Times leads with “Crackdown on university pay” and says institutions will be fined if they fail to justify paying their vice-chancellors more than the prime minister. The Mail’s mainstory is that half of GPs want to close their patients list because surgeries are full. Lastly, the Mirror splashes with “School bans skirts” and says parents in Lewes are unhappy with the introduction of gender-neutral clothing.

Sign up

If you would like to receive the Guardian Morning Briefing by email, bright and early every weekday, sign up here.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/thursday-briefing-hurricane-irma-flattens-caribbean-communities/