#nothing is abandoned just on a really long hiatus

[enbeemagical]

WIP tag game: Angel of Music!

oooh ok so this one was heavily heavily inspired by Phantom of the Opera. basically the Phantom was a literal angel but his (brother's) descendants were cursed (for reasons I never fully worked out) to relive his story with Christine's descendants, except also trying to protect them....? idk look 16/17yo me was Trying. anyways the curse was gonna go until someone could "fix Erik's mistake" i read a lot of phanfic in those days and had read a bunch of YA romances because everything YA was a romance

Anyways imagine that, but Christine's great-whatever granddaughter is basically Adrienne Ashe from Princeless and would 15billion times rather ride a dragon than redo the story, and the Phantom's great-whatever grandnephew is deeply traumatized and has exactly zero self-worth! I don't know what I was thinking! Also there was a dead necromancer in there bc I was really good at creating plot threads, less good at making them all make sense together 😅

The rewrite is going to be more well thought out, promise

[jasontoddiefor]

Yeah sure we’ve all binged a long fic, but have you ever read a WIP and followed someone’s life?

Tidbits of information - (“I graduated today!”) - and small joys (“It’s my birthday!”) and you get to be there to say “This chapter made me cry, happy birthday, thank you for gifting us this”.

I remember reading this fic of someone at the end of high school, older than me then. They seemed infinitely wise, spoke of their future career and getting into the college they wanted. I remember them posting on days they felt like nothing could bring them down - and on days the whole world did and it’s the aftermath of a hospital visit. Cancer, I think it was, their father. I got to the end of the story, I know their father was fine, but also they got to finish their WIP. I graduated three years later than them, still dutifully wrote thank you notes in every comment. I wonder if they remember me, or just the collective of people reading the story as it updates.

Four years ago I was into my first year of university, my first year of figuring out being out in public spaces. I made excuses as to why my name didn’t match my paperwork and read a fic on the train, the same five chapters over and over again for the next years as I thought the story abandoned. It updated this week after such a long hiatus, I left another thank you comment.

There’s an author I love, they update their stories like a clockwork. When they don’t, I check their blog, just to see if their doing alright, not because I feel like they owe me, just to ensure whether I better get out my laptop to write that really detailed university level essay chapter analysis to get them smiling when their day sucked.

And then, once, when I was 17, I read a fic that hadn’t updated in over a decade. I wasn’t even in primary school when it started posting. On the last chapter, I left a comment that, in retrospect, was horribly rambly and most likely full of grammar mistakes. The author replied and though I couldn’t see their face, I thought of them crying. They were married now, had children, and hadn’t thought about this fic in years. They went through their files again, found another half written chapter and an outline. I got two new chapters to read that year.

And then, recently, someone told me they got back into writing original fiction because of my comments. I get to read nearly weekly chapters.

I love binge reading a finished fic, but nothing is ever going to top the feeling of anticipation of waiting for a chapter, the pure joy when someone tells you I was done with this, but you made me think of it again, so this is for you.

Anyway, I think we should romanticize reading WIPs more, growing up alongside the authors writing the stories we love.

[amywritesthings]

early this morning i told my partner i was going to announce an indefinite hiatus and abandon my writing altogether while i deal with the grief of what's happening.

i decided to check tiktok (instinct when i'm waiting for my bagel to heat up) -- the first video was someone saying 'running to spend the week reading fanfic and nothing else'. comments upon comments were asking for fluffy, immersive fics of any kind just to keep people going. to feel something. to have some kind of hope.

my mom and i had a lengthy conversation at 6am about everything, and something she said curbed my crying instantly: "do not let those motherfuckers take your light."

so i won't.

i have really incredible people who interact with my stories, this is my joy and safe space, and as hard as things are right now, as hopeless as i may feel, i can create art and help put some good out there in a time where that light feels dimmed. i will still be kind to myself -- i'm still processing, and i'm sure i won't feel right for a very long time -- but quitting writing and disappearing would only bring joy to the people who want to police art, fiction, humanity.

so i will be working on the drabble challenge through november. i will still post a poll about amymas sometime later this week. i will still open my docs for silver underground, dating mode, seven days, etc. i may need more time. i may be slow. i may start an entirely new wip to cope. but i'll still create.

[serverusslaype]

Shameless, pt. 15

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

hey guys.................. dont kill me. i'm so sorry for the incredibly lengthy hiatus.... i had no motivation, each time i opened the file to type i'd type a couple words, maybe a paragraph and close it. i finally found the motivation to finish this chapter recently, i'm hoping it stays. it's been a rough couple months, so hoping this can help me feel a bit better!!

i felt really guilty for sort of abandoning the fic where it was, but i couldn't force myself to write anything, there was no creative juice, i think i sort of burnt myself out. and for the previous posts saying i was back, i thought i was, but i'd have the smallest spark of inspiration and try to write, but then nothing happened, and i felt bad so i didn't want to say something like, sorry, i lied. :(

hopefully this chapter is okay, i know most of you won't like it, but i'm so glad i finally finished it, it was one of the hardest to write because i had so many ideas on how it'd end and effect the whole story itself, so i had to make sure it made sense.

i can't believe you guys are still here after so long, it made me emotional to see all of your asks and comments and likes, i was just floored to be honest, so thank you so much for your unwavering support. i love you all so so much. honestly. holy shit. this has been a journey. <3 i hope you guys are all doing brilliantly.

warnings: lack of snape, swearing, mentions of adultery, slight domestic violence, verbal abuse at the end

You didn't know where to go. You felt... lost. You couldn't exactly go back to your quarters, not with Ben there, you didn't need more questions about why you were crying your eyes out at this time of night. It's not like you could tell him the truth.

So, you did what anyone would: go for a midnight walk. Well, at least that's what you thought anyone would do when they had nowhere to go. You'd hoped that the fresh, cold air would soothe your burning lungs, and the gentle breeze would dry your teary eyes. In an even deeper, darker part of your mind, you also hoped that Black would find you. Perhaps that would make everything... easier.

With tears still streaming freely from your eyes and heavy feet, you padded towards the large, magnificent doors that led to the outside with your arms wrapped around your body tightly; trying your best not to breakdown until you were alone. Your hands were still shaking as you pushed them against the doors, opening it a tad as the cool wind blew through the crack and into your face. You gasped a little at the sharp breeze, but nonetheless you slipped out, and made your way into the courtyard. The temperature was a little more biting than you had anticipated, and so you squeezed your arms around yourself a little tighter, walking towards the infamous wooden, crooked bridge.

As you sauntered through the courtyard, the only noises you heard were the owls hooting in the distance, the gentle breeze brushing through the burnt-amber leaved trees and the faint clack of your heels against the cobblestoned ground. In all honesty, it did feel a little eerie to the say the least, but at this very moment that was the least of your worries. All you wanted was a little time alone to cry, or grieve what could have been with ...Severus.

Gods, it hurt to even think his name, let alone speak it.

You reached the wooden bridge, and you stopped in the middle of it; leaning against the intricately carved columns to gaze out at the highlands. The moonlight casted a gorgeous glaze-like reflection upon the Black Lake, and it twinkled beautifully, almost hypnotising you like an illusion. Your eyes flicked up to the moon and glanced around it, staring at the glittering stars surrounding it like a perfect painting. Only times like this did you miss teaching Astronomy. As your mind reeled back to your first year teaching at Hogwarts, you relished in the time where you did not know the man named Severus Snape, and suddenly your heart sank in your chest like an anchor dropped at sea. You were so naive back then, unknowing of what was to come.

As the memories of you and Severus flooded your mind like a dam breaking, you let yourself cry. You could still feel his lips on yours, his fingertips gently tracing the curves and grooves of your skin, the words he'd whispered into your ear - it was all there, stained on your skin, like a tattoo - or perhaps a branding. And now you had to live with it. You weren't sure if you'd survive this time, especially not with how deeply you felt for him. You were torn between pretending he didn't exist and trying to talk to him, perhaps even telling him how you felt, but truth be told you were petrified of how he'd react. Would he even look at you again with those glittering black eyes you'd come to adore so hopelessly? Would he dare speak to you again, knowing that he'd charmed you? Maybe he'd relish in the fact that he'd done so, take pride in bewitching you, and make you hurt for it. You knew Snape could be rather cruel, your school days here with him as your teacher was enough for you to know that.

All these unanswered questions swam through your head and you felt yourself becoming suffocated from them, and it suddenly felt as if your lungs had filled with water, drowning you. You sobbed helplessly as you slid down the wooden wall behind you with your hands against your face, the rough edges scratching your back through your clothes rather uncomfortably.

"Y/N?" A voice came from beside you, and you froze. You turned your head away from them and quickly used your sleeve to wipe your eyes, drying the tears that had fallen from them. Only one person has a voice as soft as the one you had just heard.

You gave yourself a moment to gather yourself before even attempting to use your voice.

"Hello, Remus." You croaked quietly, sniffling.

"What on Earth are you doing out here so late?" He questioned gently, and you heard him take a step towards you. "Are you alright?"

"Quite dandy," you sarcastically quipped, sighing deeply, "I'm brilliant..." You turned your head to face him, and immediately, his face softened at the sight of your own. You were sat up against the side of the bridge, knees up against your chest and your arms wrapped around them; nose and eyes red, wet with tears. Remus quickly dropped down to his knees beside you, placing a soothing hand upon your forearm.

"What happened?" Remus asked, careful to keep his voice quiet and soft. With empty eyes, you stared into his worried ones, and instantly you felt terrible. The last thing you wanted was people worrying over you.

You looked away, down at the ground. "I..." you mumbled, sighing, "it's a... long... story." You spoke slowly. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small smile quirk up on Remus's lips.

"I've got time, my dear." He replied as his thumb brushed your forearm, silently encouraging you to talk. You felt at ease in Remus's presence, it was almost like he had a calm aura around him, and naturally your body relaxed beside his. You took a deep breath.

"Erm," you choked, sniffling again, "it's Se... Snape." You couldn't bring yourself to say his first name without crumbling into a million pieces.

Remus let out a gentle breath. "Snape, of course," He tutted, glancing between you and the ground. "What's he done?" The fact that Remus reacted like he had expected Snape to have hurt you, further broke your heart. Were you the only one to have seen through his icy exterior?

"Broken my heart," You laughed dryly, and you had to fight back another bout of tears. Remus's brows furrowed in confusion at you. "We... I... Look, I'm not sure how to explain this to you. But... I fell..." You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence. Your heart hurt too much. You only hoped that Remus knew what you were about to say.

Remus blinked and stared at you, shocked. Clearly, the two of you had hidden your 'relationship' well - so well that everyone was oblivious to it. "You fell...?" He frowned.

"In love... with him..." You almost whispered, avoiding Remus's eyes. You weren't sure if you'd be able to handle the look in them.

"You're in love with... Severus?" Remus repeated, and you squeezed your eyes shut at his words. They were like daggers, stabbing your bleeding heart. It was almost like you could feel it trembling inside of your chest, begging you to free it from this cycle of torment. "But... Aren't you with... Ben? And... Severus... he's..."

"I know," you sighed, noticing his confusion, "I had feelings for Severus before I met Ben. And it sort of just, like, spiralled out of control, and now, erm, here I am- Gods, I should have just listened to Minerva, I wouldn't be here right now, hurting like this." You ranted, another strangled sob leaving your throat. Remus watched you, and his eyes softened. He felt terrible for you. "She warned me, Remus, why didn't I just listen to her?!" You cried, letting your head fall into your hands.

"Y/N," Remus whispered, reaching out a cautious hand to pry your face from your hands. With a soft gasp, you looked up with teary eyes, and he wiped a stray tear from your cheek. "We don't get to choose who we do and don't fall in love with. We follow our hearts blindly, most of the time, unknowingly." He said, and moved his hand from your wet cheek to your shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. "It's beyond our control who we love."

There was a moment of silence.

"...What do I do, Remus?" You sobbed softly, sniffling, looking at your knees.

"Have you told him?"

"No."

"I think you should."

"But what about Ben? Shouldn't I... deal with... that first?" You sniffled again. "And what if Severus doesn't feel the same way about me? Then what?"

Remus paused for a moment, thinking. You looked up at him. "What if he does?" He said, a small, comforting smile tickling his lips as he stared at you.

"Well- from the way he treated me earlier... I truly doubt it, Remus." You scoffed, glancing away from his pitying brown eyes.

Remus sighed, and you clenched your jaw. "Regret is a terrible thing, Y/N," he said, "it's such a short word, yet it stretches on forever." Your eyes were glued on the ground and your body was still, but your mind was running a million miles an hour.

You sat there in silence for a short moment, thinking deeply. Remus was right. You'd regret it for the rest of your life if you didn't tell Severus how you felt. That chance of him reciprocating your feelings was small, but it was still there. If he didn't feel the same, fine, you'd move on. Eventually. And if he did?...

"...Alright," You nodded sheepishly. "I'll tell him. I just... need to, erm, work out when and more specifically, how. Like, do I just straight up blurt it out? Work my way up to it? H-how do you know it's the right time?" You rambled with tears still falling from your eyes, glancing through them at Remus who sat beside you with a soft expression upon his features.

"You'll know." Was all he said before slowly standing and holding out a hand for you to take. Graciously, you took it, and Remus pulled you to your feet. "Feel better?" He hummed, casting a glance out at the moon, then a worried look suddenly struck his eyes. You noticed and frowned slightly at his behaviour.

The moon?

"A little." You forced a smile upon your lips, and lifted up a hand to wipe the remaining stray tears upon your red cheeks. Remus looked back at you, and returned your smile. "How come you were out so late?" You asked curiously, brushing off his odd reaction to seeing a moon.

"A walk in the night does me good," Remus shrugged, and began to walk back towards the castle with you beside him. "Clears my head."

"Ah, well, I suppose I'm glad you found me, then." You chuckled awkwardly, folding your arms against your chest.

Remus smiled at you and placed an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. "Let's get you back to your quarters, Y/N, you look like an ice block." He hummed and lead you back to the castle, but not before throwing another glance over his shoulder to the almost-full-moon.

Faint, footsteps trailed down an empty corridor, and a billowing black cape followed with it. As Severus marched, his chest felt horribly heavy, almost like there was a boulder chained to it, weighing him down. He couldn't figure out why he felt like this, and it was starting to make him a little irate. He knew it was something to do with you since it had started after you'd stormed out of his office.

As Severus was about to round a corner, the sound of familiar, sweet laughter rattled through his bones, and immediately he froze. Without a doubt, he knew it was you. Only you could have laughter that sounded like the sweet songs that birds chirped in the summer mornings. The breath in his lungs suddenly vanished and he quickly swooped himself behind a bookcase, poking his head out from the side of it to see who you were with.

The moment you appeared, that boulder chained to his chest became heavier, and he felt himself lean against the bookcase he hid behind. Severus's eyes widened as they glued themselves to the man beside you - Remus Lupin. His blood boiled at the sight.

What could have Lupin have said to make you laugh like that? He'd only heard you laugh like that when you were with him, not Lupin.

From a distance, he couldn't make out what the two of you were talking about, but it was obviously hilarious. Severus's jaw clenched as he watched Lupin place a hand upon the small of your back, guiding you.

Guiding you... inside your quarters?

Snape hissed silently to himself as he stared, his sharp and hardened eyes welded to the back of Lupin's head like molten metal. As your door shut, Snape could only huff in disgust with bared teeth. What were the two of you doing in there? It was past midnight and you and Lupin seemed happy as Larry to go into your quarters. Snape couldn't bear the idea of you and Lupin alone together - let alone the fact that Lupin had had his damned, grubby paws on you. Severus clenched his jaw in a violent fashion, very clearly upset at how you'd moved on so quickly, especially with another professor at Hogwarts. Was this your thing? Bewitch every lonely professor that you laid your wretched eyes upon and then move onto the next? Did it make you feel better about yourself in some fucked up way?

An uneasy, bitter feeling twisted inside of his chest as he pictured the two of you alone and he whipped around out of spite; the swoosh of his long, black cloak filling the silent hallway. How could you move on so quickly, so... easily? 

"Never did I think I'd see the day that someone told me they fell in love with a man like Severus Snape." Remus laughed softly as he waddled to your sofa, glancing at you as if to ask if it was alright to sit. You nodded at him.

"And yet here we are." You hummed with a flat mouth, clearly not as amused as your friend was. "Sometimes I wish I was as emotionally guarded as he was, but then I remember how bloody miserable that would be." You mumbled, earning an abrupt laugh from Lupin who'd settled on the couch with a soft sigh.

Ben was nowhere to be seen, so you assumed he was asleep in the bedroom.

"Severus is an interesting character, most definitely," Lupin nodded and you turned around, walking towards him to join him on the sofa. "And I applaud you for being able to tame him. If it's any consolation, only one other woman had been able to, though I think it was... unintentional, if you will."

"Unintentional?" You questioned, your tone curious. Though almost instantly, that curiosity was killed as the thought of Severus with another woman stabbed at your fragile heart. "Actually, I'm not sure if I want to hear this right now." A dry laugh slipped from your lips and you exhaled sharply as another wave of tears prickled at your waterline.

"Alright." Lupin said softly, taking notice of your quivering voice. He stood up with a breathy groan and shuffled towards you, slinking an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest. It was calming, and the way he hugged you reminded you of all the times your parents would comfort you as a child. As Lupin gave you a supportive squeeze, it was as if he'd accidently pushed the button for the waterworks - hot tears began to stream down your cheeks once again, and you sobbed quietly into his wrinkled shirt.

"Hey," Lupin sighed as he watched your shoulders shake with sorrow. His hand sat on the top of your arm, squeezing it gently: a dire attempt at consoling you. "Don't cry, Y/N, it'll pass."

"Idon'twantitto-" You mumbled into his shirt, sniffling loudly. Lupin's brows furrowed together in confusion as he paused for a brief moment, silently trying to decipher what you'd just said.

"What?" He asked gently, leaning his head down so he could hear you a little better. You lifted your head from him, sighing, another heartbreaking sniffle sneaking out of your reddened nose.

"I don't want it to." You repeated yourself, lifting a hand up to wipe your wet eyes lazily.

"I know. But it will." Lupin sighed too. "Severus is... a very... damaged man," He cringed slightly at his choice of words, but he continued, "I'm not even sure that you could help him- or fix him."

At this point, you were staring soullessly at the floor, and the only thing you could feel was Lupin's chest against your shoulders. Were you and Severus really a lost case? You felt like you'd made so much progress, he'd opened up to you, he'd... he also ran away again. Perhaps your friend Remus is right.

"I think I want to be alone." You suddenly blurted out, slowly glancing up at the professor with glossy, red eyes. Lupin blinked at you, confused for a moment, though he quickly came to. He didn't blame you for saying such a thing - you'd just had your heart ripped out, to put it simply.

Remus didn't say anything, he only nodded, offering you a kind, yet pitiful smile - and that hurt you slightly. You didn't want his pity, in fact, you didn't want anyone's pity. "If you need anything, you know where to find me." He muttered, brushing a hand through your hair softly. You shut your eyes for a moment and sighed, a small gush of guilt filling your body. Here Lupin was, trying to console you, and you're kicking him out. You hoped he didn't take it personally.

"I'm sorry, I... I just need to be alone." You quickly offered. Remus shook his head and frowned at you.

"No, I understand. See you in the morning, Y/N. Feel better soon." The professor smiled at you and this time it wasn't rich with pity, but kindness. He tipped his head at you and began to shuffle his way towards the door, opening it with a quiet creak from the oak. Before he disappeared out of your chambers, Remus turned around and smiled at you once more, slipping away.

Seconds after the door shut, a drowsy-looking Ben opened your bedroom door, popping his head out. He squinted at the bright light, clearly having just woken up. That settled your nerves slightly, since you'd just spoken about Severus with Remus, only a few metres away from Ben.

"Are you crying?" Ben yawned, his bushy brows furrowed in either confusion or annoyance - at this point you couldn't tell.

"No," You coughed and turned around to pretend to do something else as you wiped at your eyes. "I'm fine, go back to bed, Ben." A curt sigh fell from your lips, and almost immediately you heard footsteps padding closer to you. "I'm fine." You repeated, listening as his feet stopped behind you.

"What happened?" Ben asked, the tiniest hint of sympathy in his voice made you shiver slightly.

"Nothing, it was just a rough day at work, honestly. I'd rather not talk about it." Your brows shot together as you tried to keep the tears at bay, but you couldn't help but think about Severus as Ben placed a hand on your waist in an attempt to pry you away from the countertop and towards him. You didn't want anyone else's hands on you but his.

"Hey," Ben said softly, though it felt heavy in your chest. "It's work. It won't matter in a day or two." You were silent. "Y/N?"

"I need a drink." You muttered and forced yourself to look at Ben, cringing slightly as you walked past him and towards a glossy wooden cabinet in the corner of your chambers. You rarely drank, and if you did, it was to either celebrate something, or forget something.

Another uncomfortable silence fell on top of the pair of you.

"Want one?" You asked with no emotion in your voice.

Ben hesitated for a moment, his groggy eyes staring at the back of your figure, silently trying to deduce you. "...Sure."

You were going to regret this.

You'd changed into comfier clothes, more specifically a pair of forest green silk shorts and a matching camisole top. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you faced Ben as he was sat on the windowsill opposite you, nursing his glass of wine. After a few strong sips, the pair of you were chatting and reminiscing like old pals. "Remember that time when I turned Peter Kipling into a weasel in McGonagall's class?" Ben giggled drunkenly, elbowing you gently as you nodded with tears in your eyes, an amused grin spread across your face.

"Oh my- I forgot about that!" You wheezed, smacking your lips together. "Didn't you get... like... at least- like a month's detention for that?" You laughed, slurring, taking another sip of your glass of Elven wine. You winced slightly at the strong aftertaste as it burned your throat. That was to be your last drink, you couldn't take much more.

"Ohh, yeah, I d-id," Ben hiccuped, his laughter dying out as he sighed; his tired eyes falling onto you. Shuffling under his gaze, you felt slightly uncomfortable. A brief yet thick silence suddenly engulfed the two of you like a slow-burning fire. Ben stood from where he'd been sat, stumbling over to where you were, stopping just in front of your knees.

"I miss talkin' to you, Y/N." He sighed, taking his hand and placing it upon your cheek; carressing the apple of it with his rough thumb. The strong scent of alcohol on his breath made you gag a tad - you were drunk as well, but the smell of it wasn't pleasant, especially from his mouth.

Your breath hitched slightly at the sudden contact.

"..Yeah." You answered quietly albeit awkwardly as you stared up at Ben. Though, all the wine you'd consumed was making him look like someone... else - the darkness wasn't helping either, in fact it was fueling your hallucinations. The dark cast of a shadow from the lit candles behind him made his nose appear larger, and his cheekbones a little more pronounced.

Slowly, he crouched down until you two were eye-level, his hands slipping to your ankles. Your body stiffened slightly at the feeling. "Ben.." You warned, sighing as the drunk buzz and pleasurable tingle from the pads of his fingers was starting to cloud your mind.

"Whaat?" He whispered, heavy-lidded eyes still glued to yours as his fingers began to trail up your calves. Ben began to stand up slightly, pushing his face dangerously close to yours, and so you leant backwards to avoid him, your back gradually making contact with the bed. He shuffled forwards slightly, pressing a knee against the edge of the bed to balance himself.

You shouldn't be doing this, you knew that, but Gods, the alcohol was truly fucking with your morals and mind.

Would it hurt?

Just a little... taste...?

You shut your eyes as you became lost in the feeling; his fingers reaching the backs of your soft thighs, a breathy sigh falling from your lips. Slowly, you opened your eyes again as Ben's smalelr nose pressed into your neck, followed by his wet lips. You gasped as his hands found your torso, his fingers pressing a little too harshly into your flesh. 

Severus.

Memories of him suddenly flooded your mind like a reservoir breaking a dam, flushing out anything that didn't embody him. All the times Severus had attacked your supple flesh beautifully; pulling gorgeous moans from those pink lips of yours. Your brows furrowed together as your body silently yearned for his touch. It hurt.

You were stuck between stopping this and just shamelessly indulging in the dark, twisted fantasy of pretending that Ben was Severus. You were being so selfish. And yet, you didn't care, all of the emotional turmoil that you'd been through tonight was pushing you to the edge - all you wanted was the man who didn't love you, who only saw you as a quick fuck, maybe some midnight company. 

You shut your eyes again and tried your best to imagine him. With a sigh, you ran your hand up Ben's neck and into his hair, though it wasn't the same. You missed the way you'd tangle your fingers in his raven-black locks, gripping on it as he'd ravish your neck and breasts like some mad professional. Sighing frustratedly, you moved your hands down to his shoulders, expecting the rough, black fabric of Severus's robes, and yet you were met with the flimsy, thin fabric of Ben's white cotton t-shirt.

You felt so fucking pathetic.

Knock, knock.

You froze, eyes snapping open as quick as lightning. Was there someone at the door?

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Ben groaned drunkenly as he continued to kiss your neck. Unfortunately for him, the feeling had worn off the second you heard those knocks.

"The knocks at the door."

"You're.. imag-ining things, baby." Ben sighed and hiccuped once more, his uncomfortably hot breath on your neck made you shiver. At this point, Ben was much more drunk than you, and so with your remaining energy, you rolled him off of you. "Whoa- heey-!" He groaned as you slipped from underneath him, padding to the door. You didn't bother to check if he was alright, the only thing on your mind was who was at your door at this time of night.

Was it him? Did you want it to be him?

Reluctantly, you reached out your hand to open the door.

Nobody was there.

You frowned and leaned forwards, poking your head out to glance around. The corridor was empty, completely empty. That was incredibly weird, did you imagine those knocks? You sighed softly - perhaps you were a little disapppointed. Turning around, you shut the door, only to be faced with Ben sat sloppily in a chair with a face like thunder.

"Waitin' for someone?" He asked with a flat tone, his head lazily cocked to one side, still clearly drunk.

"What?"

"You know what I'm talkin' abou', Y/N." Ben said with the same tone, standing up, albeit unsteadily. You swallowed as he inched closer towards you, dragging his feet, your toes burying themselves against the hard wooden floor beneath your feet. "I know about the notes you kept. From him." He spat, pointing his finger at your face. Your heart instantly began to gallop; the pounding of its beats echoed in your ears like a harrowing scream in the night.

The notes...

"Excuse me?" You choked out, brows furrowing together in complete shock.

This was not how you wanted this to go down.

"I went through yer little drawers. In yer greenhouse," Ben scowled, his nose turning upwards in what you could only describe as disgust. "All of his little notes were perfectly preserved, and mine? Well-" Your mind was running so quickly that you could barely even listen to what he was saying - the fact that he went behind your back and invaded your privacy was the only thing sticking out to you as of right now. Your skin felt like it was on fire as the anger began to flood your veins.

"You went through my drawers, Ben?!" You yelled, shoving a finger in his face.

"That's the only thing you care abou'?! Not the fact that you secretly- obviously, have some sort of fucked up... thing for a man who treats people like they're the tiniest bit of shit on 'is shoe?!" Ben screamed back drunkenly as he bared his teeth, stomping towards you and smacking your finger away. "The fuck is wrong withya?"

You knew this could get ugly quite quickly, especially as Ben was drunk - a lot drunker than you. But at this moment, your anger was far too hot to even think about cooling things down.

You scoffed at him, your lips twitching upwards into a disgusted sneer. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Going through my stuff?!" You shouted at him, taking a step backwards as he began to get a little too close for comfort. "That's not okay, Ben!"

"How long has it been going on?" Ben asked, his tone suddenly calm. That put you on edge.

You paused for a moment, pondering on his question. It was probably best that you didn't answer that. "We're done here, Ben." You clenched your jaw, silently readying yourself for some sort of explosion.

"How long, Y/N?!" Ben yelled. The way the whites of his eyes were basically screaming at you made you feel terrified. In this current moment, there was only one pair of arms that you wish you were being held in. The man in front of you backed you up to the door, and you could only stare at him, for your wand was foolishly placed inside the pockets of your robes hung in your bedroom. Tears burned in your eyes as the guilt you'd tucked away was finally waking up and holding your body hostage with it's incredibly heavy weight. "Did you fuck 'im? Is that why ya never slept wit'me for months? Because you were too ...busy being his fucktoy?" Ben slurred, his face red and lips wet with saliva from how he'd been shouting.

"Shut up!" You cried at Ben as the tears began to break free from you and run down your cheeks like melting diamonds. This was so not the way you wanted this to go. "Please, just stop!" You were sobbing at this point as his words pierced your heart, quickly reminding you of what Severus truly thought of you.

"Oh, fuck sake, stop with the cryin'," Ben growled, drunkenly shoving a hand into your shoulder, sending you barreling backwards and into the door. You winced slightly as the bone of your shoulder blade made contact with the metal bar on your door. "Whiny bitch, yer the one in the wrong, not me!" He grumbled with a heavy sigh, turning away from you.

"Shit, Ben-" You gasped as you leaned forwards and pushed yourself off of the door, however, a sharp and excruciating pain shot across your shoulder as you tried to move it. "What the hell were you thinking?!" You whined, stumbling to the countertops of your kitchenette to lean on it. Your shoulder was fucking killing you.

"Me? What was I fuckin' thinkin'?!" A sarcastic, manic laugh fell from his lips and immediately you regretted your choice of words. The man spun on his heel, and suddenly he donned a wand in his hand. Now, you were scared for your life. "You're one to talk... you know what... I'm going to have you fired... yeah... blacklisted. From every job in this fuckin' area! That'll teach you to be a whore!" Ben screamed the last word so loudly that you were sure every sleeping student and teacher heard it. Your jaw ticked, and you had to look away, your face painted an embarrassed shade of scarlet.

Your heart dropped at his words. No way was this happening.

"You can't do that." You whispered, tears still streaming from your eyes as you stared at the ground.

"I work at the Ministry, darlin', anything is possible."

"Fuck you."

"What did you just say t'me?"

"Fuck you!" You cried out hoarsely with one hand on your shoulder and the other gripping the countertop. An animalistic like growl fell from your ex-boyfriend as he stormed towards you, fury burning bright in his eyes. He raised his wand, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for some sort of spell to hit you.

"Stupefy!" A familiar voice commanded, the swish of a spell following it suit. Then, a loud thud.

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes to see Ben laying on the floor, unconscious in a pool of his own saliva. Your chest heaved with fear, and you were incredibly scared to look up to see who had come to your rescue. Frozen, you stood still in your place, though you could feel your knees beginning to buckle. Within seconds you were on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, your lungs on fire from how harshly you were breathing. Merlin, you could've just died.

uh oh.. who saved her?

i'm sorry if you weren't tagged, i went through the majority of my notes and tried to find you all!! pls forgive me :( there was a lot due to my absence <3

taglist:

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

@meowskii

@nooneeveryonenoone

@vesperbatty

@biggest-simp-eversposts

@881127fara

@freshmoneyalmondathlete

@sonoluvr22

@v3lv3tvampir3

@lashipperrubia

@camilla-black

@acakius

@hiddlestonspassionsackx

@tellatubbies

@mikariell95

@sunshinemink

@m0rtifiedg0th

@spookymicrowave

@sayonara30

@novas-dreamworld

@ms-snape

@captainrogers-19

@once-upon-an-imagine

@cj-ghostemoji-destielpie

@renirat

@0chemicalwaste0

@6kaja9

@guardiandear

@gloriousrebelrunaway

@ameliachastain

@setsuna-meiou31

@kateris-world

@unatempesta-dipensieri

@jspidey5

@lyrixsnape

@bbykens

@johnmurphys-sass

@rockymiles

@joshysloshy

@luckylightcosplay

@melmel-fandom

@whosiris

@yu-87

@chalkoutljnes-blog

@ameliachastain

@eatmyshortsz666

@alexisabirdie

@snifellus

@roxy366

@stainedglasscrystals

@sojantrouxao

@mariaeatsworms

@cheri-cheri-cherry

@lizziebitch33

@dreamybxnny

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@daydreamer-and-booklover

@daemonwhitedove

@yoongjennie88

@aureum-lepus

@lolwey

@alanalanalanalanalanna

@dystopiaincognito

@rye-flower

[madwomansapologist]

Hi! I was wondering if you’d be up to writing an Older!Sidney Prescott x fem reader fic where reader woke up feeling really down and sort of bad mentally and maybe Sidney helps her get out of bed and cheers her up by caring for her and being a total sweetheart?💕

when earth stopped spinning for a day | sidney prescott

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Sidney Prescott | AO3

synopsis: Sometimes, when you feel like shit, nothing is going to help you feel better. But sometimes, all you need is good company. And Sidney knows damn well how being alone feels.

warnings: female!reader. hurt/comfort. established relationship. domestic fluff. saphic relationship. no ghostface.

note: as i said, i'm on a hiatus. i planned on writing this just after my birthday, but guess what? my body decided it hate me. my nose is always wet, my throat is dry, my head hurts so bad that i can't get food because when i bend over to get something on the kitchen it starte spinning. i wanna watch my fat greek wedding, but i can't stand to look at things moving. i wanna die. my body wants me dead. my mind too. good for you dear anon who already waited long enough for your request to be done. i hope you enjoy my misery.

Sometimes you just know. It's a deep feeling your bones, a deep feeling you can't ignore. It feels like abandonment. Like falling in disgrace. No one can ignore a castle crumbling, no can ignore the certain of earth turning it's back on you.

It's been like that since you opened your eyes. You looked at the empty glass of water in front of you, noticed the loneliness on your bed, heard the trees moving with the wind outside your house. And as simple as that, as simple as understanding your senses, you knew you wouldn't get out of bed.

You didn't went back to sleep, but you also didn't remain awakened. It was like you mind wandered without your permission, moving throught all the places your body couldn't reach. You just stayed that, glaring at glass, suffocated by your sheets.

You felt haunted.

Seconds later (or minutes, maybe hours, probably centuries), something changed. You didn't noticed before, but now you did. Your glass turned into a cup, and its emptiness turned into thin smoke and the aroma of passion fruit.

That you didn't feel, but you just knew: she was right behind you. Not touching, not when she can see you may not want that. Not talking, as your loud silence took all the space on your shared home. Not doing anything besides being there.

"Hi", you weak voice surprised you. Its being a long time since you last heard it. A long, needed time not hearing anything but the tree leaves.

"Hi", Sidney whispered. You could feel, she was smilling. A small, kind, worried smile. You just knew. "Have you eat anything?" Your lack of response was enough. "You know, I'm almost a masterchef myself. And I'm taking requests."

You chuckle. "No. You're not."

"Is this a challenge?" Her hands found a way into your waist. Feeling Sidney's warm body, you closed your eyes and reached for her hand. You wanted to feel next to someone. Next to her. "I can make you a foie gras, then some cassoulet and finish the day with soupe a l'oignon."

"Do you even know what those are?" You murmured.

"Maybe...?" The silence that came after it was different. It was comfortable. And yet, you didn't feel alone. You mind stayed on your body, and it relaxed a bit against Sidney's body. "Now chose," her voice was profound. Filled with honesty. "You want to talk, for me to take care of you, or to stay like that?"

"Just... stay", you asked. "Don't let me feel lonely."

"I would never do that, baby", Sidney's hand found a place in your hair. "How could I let my muse all alone? Someone must protect her."

"You're such a dork."

"No, no, your dork."

"Idiot", you rolled your eyes. Then, quietly, you added: "My idiot."

When you know, you know. And when it comes about Sidney and her love for you, you just know.

SCREAM TAGLIST: @adamsbubblegumbitch

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[snugglesquiggle]

A fallacy I’ve engaged in, now that my writing has achieved some success, is to turn that success into the goal. When I contemplate writing, too often I’m no longer thinking about the story, I’m thinking about what I want the story to be. How I want the audience to be impressed with me, how I want them feeling about what I’m writing.

But all my best stories happened because I simply had an idea that I wanted to convey and so I explained it. No pretense, no expectation.

I sometimes think about how, when it comes to the fundamentals of computation, there’s a distinction drawn between the primitive recursive functions, defined by iterating in bounded ways on a set of simply defined procedures, and the μ-recursive functions, defined by an infinite loop over all possibilities. Primitive recursive functions are necessarily total, everywhere well-defined, while a μ-recursive functions may never produce a valid answer.

It’s so much easier to recursively build out what’s you want to write, then to do an unbounded search for the best way to achieve some particular end. In principle, μ-recursive is so much more powerful, and yet it invites so many headaches, so much undefined behavior.

Something that stands out to me is that yesterday, at first it really felt as if my latest depressive trough might be finally cresting again.

My day started out with some thoughtful conversations with friends about An Opaque Heart, and I even had an idea for how to finally revise the opening. And then… I did nothing. I never quite resolved how to get started.

Then, later that day, I wrote two thousands words as a one-shot, spurred by nothing but an compelling image, a moment between J and Uzi I wanted to revel in. It wasn’t even supposed to be that long!

And that’s the thing. That’s always the thing. All my best work wasn’t supposed to be.

I’ve watched this cycle play out so many things, over and over. Endless Stars, my first novel, (and still my most polished work after HT) started out as me chasing imagery in a notebook while distracted in high school.

230k words later, choked by ambition, I started up so many projects. First And the Darkling Reefs Abide, then Of Waterweft, then There Lies Already the Shadow of Hope.

TLAtSoH got a 5k word chapter one, followed by a 9k word chapter two, (not) followed by a chapter three that paralyzed me for months. Working through all the lore I needed for the scenes to come birthed Black Nerve. And after all that, aching for something simple, I started up a quest, so unserious I wrote the updates directly in discord.

People liked it, I liked it, and it became Eifre Quest. How far out of hand did it get? The first chapter was six hundred words. The fifteenth chapter was thirty-one thousand. That was the climax of the first interlude arc, where I had an image I wanted to deliver, and was determined to deliver it.  Even if I had to write a novella to get there.

That first interlude arc was supposed to be a quick break before we get back into the main action; so with the second interlude, given how well the first turned out, I made my plans just as ambitious. Guess what? The quest is on abandonment-hiatus right now, dead one chapter into that second interlude.

After/during EQ came Kaon Rising, which was intended flat-out to be a be braindead indulgent power fantasy slop appealing to the type of reader who loves isekai and litrpg. How braindead did it turn out? I choose to give the main character a power that hinges on cubic volumes, and the fifth chapter open on an exposition about the ecological physics of magic light.

The list continues; A Chimerical Hope was simply me trying to write a summary; Aurora Moonrise was literally a sidebar example crafted purely for an essay. I’ve already talked at length about the genesis of Hostile Takeover and An Opaque Heart elsewhere.

You see the pattern already, don’t you? I start off unserious, realize I’m actually cooking, try desperately to keep cooking, and the water boils out of the pot.

(This isn’t even the first time I’ve had this observation.)

Every time I see the things I’ve accomplished, I naïvely assume that doing it by accident proves I can do it on purpose — as if adding expectation could only add.

In comments and author’s notes, I’ve lately expressed how the need to live up to the hype has kept me from writing more HT, but yesterday, in my latest comment apologizing for the delay in finishing chapter seventeen, I realized something.

If you went back one year and suggested to my past self I write something to the standards I’m holding chapter seventeen to, I never would have even attempted.

Hostile Takeover, in my mind, has become something I’d never write if I knew what I was getting into. I never wanted to write something so grand — and no one ever asked me to.

Now, this isn’t me saying I’m abandoning HT — though something I’ve been carefully dancing around saying in these all discussions is that I frankly don’t care all that much if I never update HT again, but that’s mostly tiredness speaking. I can fall back in love with the story with some more distance.

If nothing else, I had some cool ideas for the remainder of the plot, and I’m more than willing to summarize where I was going with it. “Summarize”, that is — you know how this song and dance turns out.

Ultimately, none of what I’m saying here is very new, it’s the same old advice. Keep your eye on the ball and stay out of your head; you can’t lock in with self-consciousness getting in the way.

In Jujutsu Kaisen, a skilled sorcerer with total concentration is capable of applying magical energy to a hit within a microsecond of landing it, unleashing profound power in a flash of black sparks. Saturo Gojo, the greatest sorcerer, even wielding all the insight of his mystical eyes, still couldn’t pin down all the variables.

Peak doesn’t come from trying for peak. Because no one, not even Saturo Gojo, can land a black flash on command.

[the7thcrow]

Not all that Glitters is Gold -> 09

series pairing: (fem) princess!reader x seonghwa x san x wooyoung. eventual polyamory.

series masterlist | previous chapter

Part Nine: indignation, drasilisks, and a nail in the coffin.

series rating: 16+

series genre: action and adventure. romance. angst. fluff. suggestive. fantasy au.

series warnings: character death, blood and violence, weaponry, injury, suggestive content, mxm content, elements of misogyny, language, monsters. (will only be using chapter specific warnings for things not included on this list.)

summary: as a princess fleeing a royal assassination attempt, you have no choice but to put your trust in a band of three thieves in order to reach the kingdom of kuroku alive. however, amongst magic, deceit, and the bounty hunters that are hot on your trail, you realize that you might have stumbled upon a relationship far more complicated than what meets the eye.

chapter details beneath the cut ->

wc: 14.0k

extra chapter warnings: n/a

chapter summary:

“Maybe we should take a step back and-” you start, but Woo cuts you off.

“Butt out, Libaiyan,” Woo says immediately, even if he does not look at you. “This isn’t your business.”

“It is her business,” San replies. “She’s just as wrapped up in this as the rest of us are.”

a/n: surprise! i'm still on semi-hiatus until the end of the school year, but i’m currently on my reading week break so i had a bit of down time. really been missing this story and these characters. hope you all enjoy! <3

Seonghwa and Woo will neither speak nor look at you, although considering everything both their eyes and lips could say, you should be more grateful than saddened by that fact.

The four of you walk in silence along the mountain pass, just as you have for the last couple hours. Although there’s been no more than a few words exchanged between the men of your party, none of them have been with you. In fact, you don’t believe your existence has been acknowledged since yesterday morning.

Woo takes charge up front, Seonghwa a few metres behind him, you following suit with the same after himself. San takes up the rear, singular horse in tow behind him.

You had to sell the other horse to the inn as payment for the damages caused by the fight, as well as in return for the supplies and luggage that they’d confiscated from your room. Woo tried to argue with the inn-keeper that Yeosang had attacked him first, but the bounty hunters had long-since left and the inn’s damage needed to be repaired. It was just business, but you could tell she felt a little bad when the boys dejectedly left the horse in the stable.

The result is the remaining horse being unrideable. The animal carries the luggage you’d previously split across the two of them, and wouldn’t be able to handle the extra weight. It’s left you with a far slower journey, time practically standing still between your walking pace and the thick tension hanging in the air.

You feel awful.

You've hardly slept since they’d found out the truth. One night having been spent in endless tears, with your knees planted in the fallen rain and mud. The other in your own tent, although the cold quietness of it served as a reminder of Seonghwa’s absence, and subsequently of your lies.

You managed to convince them to take you on the rest of the journey, less for your own sake and more for theirs. You’re almost through the Burovian Mountains, the minor kingdom of Bebbanburg being your last city before Kuroku. Even if the navigation would be a little difficult, you likely could have managed it yourself.

However, you know that reaching Kuroku alone would feel hollow, considering you’d leave them with nothing but San’s practical death sentence. You couldn’t just abandon them in such utter shambles, even if ultimately that would prove the easiest point of action for yourself. No promises to keep, nor extra strings attached to your arrival at the Kuroken castle.

You’ve grown too attached to these men, you know that.

They’ve become a weakness of the most dangerous kind. The type that you’re aware of is a fault, but rather than overcoming it, you continue to feed into its fragility. You came back for them, and you’re willing to deal with the ridicule and liability that may encompass.

You’ll do what it takes to make this up to them, even if you’ve tarnished every bit of trust you’ve built, and inevitably you’ll be leaving them for good no matter the outcome.

A weakness they are indeed, and feed into that fragility you will.

Fortunately, not every bit of hope is lost for your retribution. You told them of your situation, of your plan to ask the royal family if they will follow through with the betrothal. You’ve also sworn to beg them for the money regardless of whether or not they accept.

After all, Seonghwa had made the conditions of your return very clear: If you have a way to get them the money, come back. If you don’t, then don’t even bother.

“I know it’s not what we agreed upon. Not even close,” you had said, voice raspy and face puffy from having spent the night crying. “But there’s a chance, and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if we didn’t at least try.”

“You shouldn’t forgive yourself anyway,” Woo muttered, before standing up from his seat at the fire and shouldering his way past you. Pulling back the tent-flap he slipped under without another word. They only set up one tent.

You glanced at Seonghwa, whose gaze wandered away at the mention of your betrothal. You weren’t sure if he was hurt by the marriage itself, or angry that you hid it from him. Likely a little bit of both. He wouldn’t meet your eye.

“Alright,” a voice said from your right. San stood by the horse, packing up the dry nuts and coffee from their breakfast that morning. He gave you a small, weak smile. “We’ll try.”

So you’re trying, although not everyone seems equally as enthused by your plan. While neither have said anything out loud, you know that Seonghwa and Woo aren’t happy with the arrangement, and would choose to head home if they were given the choice. But it’s not their decision, it’s San’s. He’s the one who needs the money, therefore it’s his choice whether to give you a second chance.

For some reason, he has. In fact, he didn’t even seem to contemplate it much, agreeing to continue the journey with no arm-twisting needed. While Seonghwa and Woo’s sense of betrayal reads blatantly in both their expression and behaviour, San's is far less obvious.

You cast a glance over your shoulder at the swordsman, who meets your eyes almost immediately. He gives you a tight-lipped smile.

You’re having a hard time understanding him. He has plenty of reason to hate you - the most reason, debatably, considering it’s his money on the line - and yet, he’s not treating you with any sort of animosity.

He doesn’t appear happy by any means, gaze a little vacant and demeanor overall quiet as you continue to trudge along, but he doesn’t appear crushed. You’d like to talk to him about it, to understand where his head is at, but you don’t feel as if you have the right. You have lost the privilege of having any of these men confide in you.

If he wishes to speak about it, then he will approach you. Let him decide that on his own terms, rather than your pestering curiosity.

Up ahead, Woo takes a sharp turn off the main path, causing Seonghwa to halt and jog after him.

“Woo?” Seonghwa calls. “This isn’t the right way.”

“Shortcut,” Woo replies plainly, not even bothering to slow down.

“Are you sure?” Seonghwa asks. “Because this trail doesn’t look very worn-”

“It’s heading South down the mountain, which is exactly where we need to go,” Woo interrupts, finally pausing as he points at how the trail descends. It’s narrower than the main path, as well as more twisted and steep. “It’ll save us some time, now that we’re reduced to finishing this on foot.”

He doesn’t look at you as he says it, but the annoyance in his tone shows it’s quite blatantly a shot at you.

You don’t want to quip back, having no interest in starting an argument, but the trail ahead appears less than ideal. Almost frightening, as it begins to darken with the shadows of bushy, low-hanging trees. Its descent is steep, not enough to cause you trouble, but likely some for the horse. It’s a gamble, and one you aren’t certain is wise to take.

“Are you sure that it’s safe?” You ask, trying to keep your voice level but also gentle, non-accusatory. “Or that it’s actually going to bring us closer to Bebbanburg?”

Woo starts walking again without answering you, and you don’t miss the way the ground cracks beneath his boot, fist clenched at his side. It tears through the trail, forming a foot-long divide between you and the two men in front of you. If Woo notices what he’s created, he doesn’t show it, simply keeps storming down the mountain.

Looks like there isn’t much of a discussion to be had. You cast a wary glance over at San. He shrugs, grip tightening on the horse’s reign as he too moves forward, although you note the way his jaw sets firm. He’s aware it’s not the best idea, but he’s also not about to contest Woo right now, especially not in an act of defiance against you.

You sigh, although you put up no form of protest. This is who you are to them now. A ghost, your voice a whisper in the wind. You are there to get them the money, just as you were prior, only now all the bridges of understanding you’d built have crumbled.

Swallowing your worry, you step over the divide before trailing after them. So be it, this is what you deserve.

“Woo, we should turn back,” Seonghwa says, the fourth time he’s voiced his concern in the last hour.

This time, Woo answers him with a grunt rather than any assurance or rebuttal. He likely doesn’t feel inclined to try and convince Seonghwa that the trail is safe - again - or perhaps it’s finally dawning on him that this wasn’t a good idea.

The trail has become even more narrow and steep, and San fights to keep the horse at bay behind you, gravel slipping and sliding beneath the animal's hooves as it whinnies in protest.

Hours have passed since you first began your descent, and the sun has become a simmering ember over the horizon, darkness falling heavy around you. The tree’s are barren with blackened bark, twisting and curling around the trail. The wind blows between them sharply, a high whistling noise in contrast to the peaceful rustle of leaves along the main path.

Night is falling, and with the trail’s steep incline and the wind’s unyielding chill, there is no option to set up camp. You either continue to trudge on through the darkness and further into the unknown, or waste a few hours heading back towards comfortable safety. You believe it’s obvious which option is more wise.

The horse slides down behind you, letting out a high-pitched whine as the rocks slide around its hooves. “Shit,” San mutters, clutching onto its reins to try and hold the animal in place, despite it weighing almost a ton and having the ability to crush him.

This isn’t going to work. Should you even make it to Bebbanburg by morning, you’ll be exhausted from the night-long journey and forced to waste the day with rest. If you’re bound to waste time anyway, there’s no sense in risking the loss of another horse and having San crushed in the process.

“Woo, we need to turn around,” you say. It’s the second time you’ve spoken all day, and your voice is a bit raspy from lack of use. When Woo doesn’t respond, you clear your throat. “This isn’t a good trail. San’s about to get crushed by the horse and there’s nowhere to set up camp for the night. We don’t even know for sure if this is taking us to Bebbanburg, let’s just go back to the main path.”

“You don’t get a say, Libaiyan,” he replies, ignoring both you and your reasoning as he does not even bother to cast a glance over his shoulder.

Frustration settles within your chest and you swallow down a haughty response. He’s being stubborn, but not only that, he’s being stupid. Woo has to know by now that this wasn’t a good idea, but if it means agreeing with you on anything, he’ll let his pride drive the lot of you into the ground.

“This has nothing to do with me, it’s common sense,” you reply. You’re aware that picking a fight is not the best course of action, but you also have no interest in wandering in this cold and barren forest all night due to an elemental’s pride. “Don’t make everyone suffer because of your hatred for me.”

“Right, because I am the one making everyone suffer. That’s rich,” Woo spits, finally stopping in his pursuit down the mountain, turning to face you. His eyes scream bloody murder.

“That’s not what I meant,” you sigh. “What I was saying was-”

“What you were saying was that you think you still have any sort of influence here,” Woo cuts you off, taking a few steps up the trail, gravel sliding beneath his boots as he places himself in front of you. When he speaks he presses a finger to your chest, accusatory. “Let me make this clear. We are delivering you, we are getting our money, and then we are done. You aren’t a person, you aren’t a part of our party. You are cargo, you are baggage, you are a burden. You have no say.”

“Fine,” you say through gritted teeth, fist clenched at your side as you swallow down your pride. You remind yourself that he is hurt, that he is also the man who bore his soul to you at the fire only days ago. It’s hard to do this when he looks at you as if you are something vile stuck to the bottom of his shoe. “Then at least listen to Seonghwa when he tells you the exact same thing.”

Woo scowls, huffing as he turns to face Seonghwa. When he speaks his tone isn’t angry, but it’s certainly frustrated. “You really want to go back?”

Seonghwa's eyes widen, only slightly, as his gaze flickers between yours and Woo’s. It’s the first time he’s met your eye over the last two days, and it almost immediately darts away. He swallows hard.

“No. We can keep going,” Seonghwa answers, and amidst your internal groaning of annoyance, there is also hurt. Seonghwa wants to go back, he knows it’s the better option, and yet he only agrees with Woo because he cannot bear doing so with you.

Woo blinks at him, surprised, before nodding. “Alright then,” he says, turning back towards the trail. “We keep moving.”

“No,” a voice protests, and this time it is neither Seonghwa or yourself, but San. One of his hands grips the horse’s reins tightly, while the other is wrapped around the animal's neck, still trying to prevent it from slipping. “Don’t be petty. She’s right, we’re going back.”

Woo’s gaze darkens, and you aren’t sure if it’s from San calling him petty, or stating that you’re right. Likely both.

“We’re not being petty,” he argues, spitting the word out like a curse. “I think we have fair reason not to trust her judgement.”

“Then trust mine,” San says lowly. Getting a better look at him, he appears worn. A dark circle of tiredness having creeped beneath his eye, he breathes heavily, grip shaking around the reins in his hand. He’s been at this for hours, and it appears his patience has begun to waver. “You’re being a fool, and this is ridiculous. It’s my money on the line here, I think you should remember that.”

“Of course we’re aware of that, but-” Woo starts.

“Then don’t make the journey harder than it needs to be,” San cuts him off, tone cold. “Don’t make borderline moronic decisions that have me carrying a horse down a mountain, or that would have us stranded for the night. This isn’t your battle to fight.”

“You aren’t the only one she hurt. You think Seonghwa doesn’t feel-”

“I wasn’t talking to Seonghwa.”

The silence that hangs in the air is glacial. Frozen in time as the seconds tick by, unmoving as neither of the two men budge. Woo’s jaw is set firm, twitching as if he wants to say something, but does not permit himself to let the words out.

It dawns on you that San does not know how deeply you hurt Woo. He does not know the depths of his past, the horrors of orphanage. Woo had made you swear not to tell him.

It’s immediate, how the guilt settles in your gut, and you try to remedy the situation.

“Maybe we should take a step back and-” you start, but Woo cuts you off.

“Butt out, Libaiyan,” Woo says immediately, even if he does not look at you. “This isn’t your business.”

“It is her business,” San replies. “She’s just as wrapped up in this as the rest of us are.”

At this Woo’s gaze finally does shift, into a look of complete and utter bewilderment. He baulks at the swordsman, eyebrows drawing together in disbelief as his mouth drops open, stunned. “Are you actually defending her right now?”

“I’m not defending her, I’m just saying you aren’t thinking clearly about this-”

“Oh, of course. I’m not thinking clearly! Me, not the guy who’s taking the side of a woman who scammed him out of a fortune. Naturally, I’m the problem-”

“You guys…” Seonghwa starts, too quiet to be heard over their arguing, as both Woo and San’s voice begins to raise louder.

“It was my fortune to be scammed out of,” San cuts back, rolling his good eye as he lets out a groan of frustration. You aren’t sure if you’ve ever seen San lose his temper like this, but the height of his voice matches Woo’s, as does his ferocity. “For the sake of the god’s Woo, if I - the one with his life on the line - can put my feelings aside to finish the journey, you think you’d be able to.”

Woo laughs at this, a cold sound. “I think you aren’t putting your feelings aside, and that’s the problem. Being a little blinded, are we?”

San scowls at this, giving him an incredulous stare. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You guys,” Seonghwa starts again, and this time his voice is louder. Hand falling to his side, you notice his fingers grip around the knife on his belt, and you frown. However, his words go ignored.

“Oh, you know what I’m talking about,” Woo answers, tone dripping with annoyance. “You think I didn’t notice the longing, puppy-dog glances in her direction since the sand village? Then she betrays us and you’re smiling at her, San. Honestly.”

San’s eye widens as his jaw drops open, stupefied. “For fucks sake Woo, you’re being jealous? Right now? Are you kidding me?”

“Right, because I’m the one who’s delusional-”

“You guys!” Seonghwa finally shouts, and the two men momentarily break out of their argument. Seonghwa pulls the knife from his belt, sinking down to crouch lower onto his knees, eyes darting between the trees above you.

Sensing the urgency in Seonghwa’s demeanor, both Woo and San silence themselves, matching the empath as they crouch downward. You follow suit, an eerie chill passing through you as Seonghwa presses a finger to his lips. The forest is quiet, as the only sound is the wind as it blows between the trees and their blackened bark.

“What is it, Hwa?” San asks quietly, casting him a wary glance. His hand extends up to reach his blade fastened along his back, fingers clutched around the hilt.

“Do you hear that?” Seonghwa whispers, and you tune your ears into the forest’s sound, listening closer. A few minutes pass by in silence, when you admit to yourself that no, you don’t hear anything.

You’re about to tell this to Seonghwa when you still do not hear it, but rather see it. Something big, black, and scaly slithering along the tree a few paces to your left, blending into the bark so that if you weren’t on guard, you never would have seen it.

It looks almost exactly like a branch blowing in the wind, as it ripples along the barren wood, a shadow in the night’s darkness. Creeping its way up along the trunk, it extends itself to reach another tree, traveling between them. It’s only now that you see it that you can hear what Seonghwa had noticed, the slick noise of the beast traveling, scratchy against the wood.

Out of the corner of your eye, another branch moves.

Twisting to face it, you watch as another one of the monsters creeps along the trees. You cannot see its eyes nor its fangs, but it’s clearly some sort of serpent. A few feet long and thick as rope.

You swallow the frightened gasp that settles itself in your throat as another branch to your right moves. Then to your left, and another beside it. They’re everywhere.

When you bring your gaze down, you don’t realize what you’re searching for until you meet Seonghwa’s eyes. This time he does not look away from you, swallowing hard as he holds your gaze. His lips purse together. He’s afraid.

“We’re being hunted,” he whispers, and Woo nods, looking up and around just as you had. Gaze darting back and forth, he’s tallying them, you realize.

“Eight of them, by my count,” the elemental says, keeping his voice low. “What are they?”

“Basilisks,” San answers, followed by an unsteady breath.

Woo shakes his head. “They’re too small.”

“Children. That's why there’s so many of them.”

Woo nods, jaw tense as he flexes his fists in and out, quelching the small flames that continue to reappear within his palms. You don’t think he can help it.

“What do we do?” Seonghwa asks, and San considers the question for a long moment before responding.

“If they’re Basilisks that means they’re also blind,” he whispers, nodding to himself as he speaks. “If we’re quiet enough, we should be able to flee.”

Sharing a glance between the four of you, one that shares a mutual understanding of caution, Seonghwa takes a step forward. The rocks within the gravel of the trail protest, a crunching noise echoing from beneath his boot. The Basilisks begin to slither a little faster, and Seonghwa winces.

He corrects his next step, the crunch of the gravel much softer as he makes his way down the trail. To go up now is futile, as attempting to maintain silence will be much harder if fighting against the falling rocks.

Woo takes a step after him, light on his feet, with you following suit. You extend a hand out to San, who accepts it, his other still gripping the horse’s reins.

Turning his attention to the horse, he bows his head, ushering it to follow him. However, without an audible order, the animal doesn’t understand the command, huffing in annoyance at its reins being tugged.

San winces at the loudness of the noise, looking over his shoulder at both Woo and San. “Do we leave him?” He asks, voice so hushed it’s barely audible.

After a moment they nod. San drops the reins, and the group of you tread slowly down the hill. The swordsman keeps his hand out-stretched to calm the horse, hoping it won’t make another noise.

Fortunately, it doesn’t.

Unfortunately, it follows instead.

The rocks of the trail crunching loudly beneath its hooves, it follows after you, before beginning to lose its footing as the gravel slides. The horse lets out a loud sort of squealing noise, before slipping down the trail.

It would have crushed you, if it weren’t for the three black blurs that came darting from the forest’s thicket. Each of them lodging itself within the horse - one in its neck and the other two within its torso - the animal goes stumbling into the bush, letting out a loud whine of pain that makes your gut clench.

It’s quickly quelled by fear, however, as loud hissing noises emit from all around you, the trees shaking as all of the snakes begin to move. Alerted by the noise, you watch as many of their tails stick up, a rattling motion.

You don’t know much about snakes, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that that can’t be a good sign.

San and Seonghwa both immediately begin to run, instinct taking over where yours appear to be lacking. Woo swears beneath his breath. “For fuck’s sake,” he mutters, reaching out to grab your arm, grip firm. “Run!”

Pulling you after him, you both take off down the trail, the sound of slithering following close behind. A black dart flies over your shoulder, and you can feel the air rush passed as the beast narrowly misses your ear.

“They can pounce!” You yell, dread curling within your stomach. “We can’t outrun them!”

None of the men respond, but Woo does look over his shoulder, before releasing your arm and holding his own out steady behind him. Maintaining his pace, he summons a ball of flame before throwing it at one of the Basilisks, which appears to be nothing more than a black line zig-zagging across the trail.

However, instead of hitting the monster, Woo’s ball of fire is cut off.

By the beast's own flame.

The snake’s jaw falls open, sharp fangs glinting even in the darkness, and from its gaping mouth comes a large stream of burning orange heat. The flames collide with Woo’s own, diminishing it.

“Oh, shit,” Woo says, eyes wide. He turns forward again, shouting towards Seonghwa and San. “They may be blind, but they sure as hell aren’t Basilisks!”

San casts a glance over his shoulder to see what Woo is talking about, letting out a gasp as the beast begins to spit another stream of flame towards you. Woo blows it back in the opposite direction with a gust of wind, but the snake merely slithers through the flame, letting out an agitated hiss as it remains unscathed.

“Fuck, they’re fire-proof too!” Woo observes, quickening his pace as his adrenaline sparks higher. There appears to be fear in his eyes, genuine, an emotion you aren’t sure you’ve ever seen on him. “What should we do?”

“She’s right, we can’t outrun them,” San answers, hand drifting to the hilt of his blade. His sprint suddenly settles into a jog, and you nearly crash into him, stumbling as you maneuver yourself around him. “We only have one choice.”

When San unsheathes his sword, he twists around with it. A blur of motion, one of the snakes pounces forward, flying towards him with its mouth open and long fangs on display. It moves at lightning speed, like a black shadow whirling through the air.

San slices it clean in half.

The snake falls into two separate pieces on both sides of him, a thick black liquid oozing from where its body had been severed. It smells rancid, like something rotten as it spreads across the forest floor, acidic as the pebbles begin to sizzle and melt.

The other snakes chasing you begin to slow, as they dart themselves into the forest. You can still see them, as none of the bushes or trees have leaves to hide them. The blackened bark suddenly makes sense, the area over-run by the fire-breathing monsters.

You’d think it would have been nice for someone to have put a sign before the trail, warning of a flame-spitting-snake-monster breeding ground. Then again, perhaps nobody has survived to make note of one. Your stomach sinks at the thought.

A large stream of fire flies towards San, and the swordsman narrowly dodges it by twisting it to the left. Another blast of flame shoots out at him, and San ducks, the flames an inch away from searing his scalp.

San grits his teeth in annoyance, gaze darting around at the many snakes surrounding you. “Woo, can you ensure their flames won’t hit me?”

“But there’s so many of them-” Woo protests, although he’s quickly silenced by San casting him a glare, one that says: “I wasn’t asking if it would be easy.”

The elemental sighs, before shaking out his hands and shoulders. “I can do it.”

“Good,” San states, before bending low on his knees, standing light on the balls of his feet. Battle stance. “Then let’s work.”

When San begins to move, all the praise that Seonghwa had been spewing about him is immediately proven wrong.

It never even came close to illustrating the man’s skill.

San moves with an uncontested quickness, traveling through the air as if he were a part of it. His sword swings and twists as if it were its own being, an object cursed with a vengeance to destroy anything within its path.

The snakes fly at San from every angle, attracted to the sound of gravel crunching beneath him as he moves and parries between their attacks.

A snake springs from behind him, and San twists to avoid it without even a glance backwards. Meanwhile, another comes at him from his left, and despite being in the middle of a complicated twisting maneuver away from the other, he manages to swing at the beast through the motion.

He slices yet another snake in half, as Woo preoccupies himself with preventing San from having to also worry about their flames. The elemental keeps his hands outstretched, eyes darting between the monsters, watching for when their jaws drop open. It’s at lightning speed, reflexes nearly cat-like as Woo redirects their fire away from San. The monsters hiss in displeasure.

The sound of hissing slowly dies out as both the elemental and the swordsman master the beasts. San takes them down one by one, the black corrosive liquid in replacement of blood oozing thick across the forest floor.

You simply watch. Seonghwa stands next to you, rendered equally as useless considering his bow and arrows were left with the horse. Besides, you imagine that shooting one of these beasts would be nearly impossible, anyway. You consider trying to help with your own sword, but you’d likely be getting more in San’s way than actually assisting him.

You cast Seonghwa a glance, although he doesn’t meet it. His eyes are focused on San, jaw dropped open ever so slightly, watching the swordsman fight in awe. He does not look away.

San slays the final snake, breathing heavily as the monster tumbles to the ground. It looks far less menacing now, immobile and coated in black ooze and dirt.

“Let’s go get our supplies,” San says quietly, holding no sort of pride or glory at the impossibility he accomplished. He just looks tired.

In silent agreement, the four of you begin to walk back up the path. Towards their horse, which is surely dead. Another gone, and although you feel for them, you’re at the very least glad that this time you are not at fault.

San stops.

Unprepared, you run into him, bumping your nose against his back. “What are you-” you start, but he hushes you, gaze flickering back into the forest.

“Are there more?” Woo asks, tone dreadful.

San doesn’t respond right away, he doesn’t have to. The sound of something moving, slithering through the forest is immediately apparent, rocks either being crushed or slipping down the hill.

You look around, searching for the beasts. You catch sight of movement, something black and massive twisting through the bush, before it disappears behind a tree-trunk. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot another, slithering within the ashen underbrush. They appear bigger than the last, far longer as you cannot see their full length, body a couple feet thicker in girth.

“How many are there?” You ask, trying to keep your voice low.

“Not many,” San answers, although for some reason he sounds more devastated than relieved by the fact. “Only one.”

You cast him a confused glance, prepared to point out the third beast you see slithering behind a rock.

“Fuck,” Woo whispers, the realization dawning on him just as it does you.

The first beast you saw that had crawled up the tree… it has also slithered itself around one of its branches, before connecting itself to the next one.

The second beast that slithered through the underbrush, its torso does not disappear behind a blackened bush, it continues past it. All the way to the third beast, its body twisted around a rock before curling up yet another tree stump.

There are not many beasts, but one. One massive snake that’s body has completely surrounded you. It hangs across the trees, trails through the underbrush, curls around rocks and stumps alike. Black scales slithering in the shadows, it’s everywhere.

“Where is its head?” Seonghwa asks, looking up into the trees, eyes full of worry.

The silence in response to his question is a testament to how nobody is sure of the answer. Woo crouches down, grabbing a large rock. He weighs it in his hand, as if to deem whether or not it is heavy enough, then brings his arm back and throws it down the trail.

It sails a solid distance away from you before falling back down. Skipping a few times, it loudly crashes against different small stones with each of its jumps.

Less than a few seconds after it settles, the rock is devoured whole.

The beast appears in a whirl of darkness and motion. Flying down from the tree-tops, its open mouth - which is a few feet long, by your estimate - contains massive fangs that drip with a white venom as it swallows the rock.

The monstrous snake hisses with satisfaction, pink and ribbed tongue flickering out in front of it. It lets out a breath, and the faintest hint of flames flare out from the monster’s nose. The beast's black tail continues to fall down from the tree’s, and you can hear it moving all around you. Tens, maybe even hundreds of feet long.

It begins to slither along the ground, making zig-zags along the trail as it surrounds the smaller snakes that San had slain. It stops in front of one, nudging its body with the tip of its nose, to which the smaller snake flops over lifelessly

“Shit,” San whispers, gaze flickering between the massive snake and the ones he’d discerned to be children. “That’s mom.”

The snake continues to hiss, becoming increasingly agitated as it lets out a strange, mangled growling noise. It’s of a higher-pitch, breaking slightly, and the beast lets out a blast of fire that scorches the area around it. It’s upset, and part of yourself - the tiny fraction that is not consumed by fear - feels almost guilty.

Then it turns to face you.

Its face is difficult to make out. Features indiscernible as its scales are the colour of midnight, a stark contrast to the bold pink of its gaping mouth. The white venom from its fangs continues to drip onto the soil, equally as corrosive as its blood.

What’s most terrifying however, are its eyes. Gleaming rubies glowing within the darkness, they shine a bright red. They’re also cloudy, like fogged windows, a testament to the monster’s blindness. Even though it looks in your direction, you know it cannot see you.

And yet, it doesn’t move. It’s face hovers a couple dozen feet before you, tongue flickering. It huffs once more, a bright orange flare puffing from its mouth.

“It must be some sort of Basilisk and Dragon hybrid. Both rare, both deadly,” San whispers, expression grim.

Woo nods to himself, lip briefly curving upwards. “A Drasilisk,” he offers.

San gives him a look of disbelief. “What is wrong with you?”

“Would both of you quit it,” Seonghwa says, voice a panicked whisper. His gaze flickers between them and the beast, before swallowing hard. “What are we going to do?”

“It’s blind. So if we don’t make any noise, it’ll leave eventually,” San answers, and Seonghwa nods. It seems plausible enough of a plan, reasonable enough to work. Besides, your content with nobody having to try and fight this thing, whether that be you or any of them.

The snake curls upwards from its place on the ground, coils forming around itself as it hovers in the air, looming tall. It lets out another broken whine, this time louder. Amplified by the mountains, it echoes all around you. It resembles a woman screaming.

The beast flares its nostrils, the action accompanied by a quiet puffing sound. It’s not the same as it had done before, accompanied by fire and annoyance. Instead, it sounds like an inhale rather than an exhale.

The beast continues to make the sound over and over again, nose outstretched as it twists back and forth, almost as if it’s… sniffing.

It begins to move towards you, slithering slowly, following your scent down the trail as it creeps closer.

“You think just standing here is a good idea now?” Woo asks, a ball of flame forming within his hand. It’s useless, considering the beast is fireproof, but perhaps it provides him comfort. A false sense of control.

“No,” San says plainly, rolling up his sleeves before unsheathing his sword. “Ready to go again?”

“You aren’t seriously thinking of fighting that thing are you?” You ask, because it sounds ridiculous. The smaller snakes in relation to this monster is like comparing a puppy to a wolf. It’s a death mission, suicide.

“Not much of a choice,” San breathes, before rushing towards the beast. Woo lets out a shout of panicked protest, and while his intentions may have been good, the beast perks up in acknowledgement of their presence.

It lets out a vicious, blood curdling roar - a sound you never thought could come from a snake - and with it comes a blast of fire. Like an avalanche of flame, red and orange flurries tumble down the trail. Even from a fair distance away you can feel its heat immediately, and San only manages to avoid the flame by diving out into the bush.

Even so, it catches his ankle, the flames alighting his trousers. He extinguishes them with a handful of dirt, casting an annoyed glare in Woo’s direction. “Thanks a lot,” he says, both in relation to the elemental having alerted the beast and failing to redirect its flame.

Woo doesn’t apologize, but he does raise his hands in front of himself, prepared for the beast's next blast of fire.

San rushes towards the monster once more, the necessity for speed obvious, as its gaping mouth extends to where he’d just been standing. The beast instead collides with the ground, venom squirting into where its fangs sink into the soil.

San’s good eye widens, as if realizing how close he’s dancing on death’s doorstep.

While his attention is preoccupied, the beast's long torso swings towards him. The monster commands its body like a whip, extending itself to meet the swordsman with an alarming amount of force. From the sheer power of the strike, you fear he may fall.

However, when it pulls its body back, San isn’t on the ground. He’s not standing either. In fact, he’s not anywhere.

Your brows furrow into confusion. Focusing your gaze, you search for San amongst the darkness, unable to find him where he’d previously stood. As if he’d been wiped from existence.

Then you notice a flash of colour amidst the beast's jet-black body.

San clings to the monster as it raises itself into the air. Arms held around its torso, he holds onto it with sheer core-strength, face twisted with the necessary effort.

He caught it. Somehow, he managed to catch the three-foot wide whip hurtling towards him.

Seonghwa cheers in a rally of support, and you nearly clap in amazement, as well as disbelief.

San pulls himself up so that he is sitting on top of the beast, legs wrapped around its torso as if he were riding it. With a hand clutching onto one of its scales, he uses the other to lift his sword into the air. The sword gleams in the moonlight as he raises it high, like a knight from a storybook as he brings it down, triumphant and glorious.

The sword bounces off of the beast's scales.

San’s brows furrows, and instead of a plunging motion, he attempts to slice the beast as he had the smaller ones. Once again, the sword merely rebounds off of the monster, useless.

The snake lets out a roar of annoyance, becoming aware of the nuisance that has attached himself to its back. It launches itself upwards, before immediately descending down, the rest of its body following in a peristaltic motion. The ripple ascends towards San like a massive wave, and the swordsman’s face settles into an expression that says nothing less than “Fuck me”.

When the snake’s body launches upward beneath him, San attempts to hold on, but the effort is futile. The scale beneath his hand rips off, and he is sent flying. Losing the grip on his sword, it goes soaring out into the forest, disappearing into the underbrush.

If there is any sort of optimism to be found in the situation, it’s in that at least San is sent hurtling towards you rather than in the opposite direction. He crashes into the ground, catching himself on his forearms, bare skin shredded as he slides along the trail’s rocks and gravel.

Wincing, he does not allow himself to dwell on the pain, as he shakily pushes himself back up and unto his feet. His arms are stained pure red, the layer of flesh wiped clean off. He swears beneath his breath, before yanking both of his sleeves down as if he cannot stand to look at it.

“Well,” Woo says, a look of disgust on his face as blood begins to soak through the fabric of San’s tunic. “Are you done?”

“I’m done,” San hisses through gritted teeth.

Woo nods. “We run then?”

San looks over to the snake, who lets out a loud hissing noise as more fire sparks from its nose. “Yeah,” he breathes. “We run.”

The four of you take off down the trail. Keeping one eye over your shoulder, the beast turns to face you all, letting out a violent roar that shakes the ground. It opens its mouth, another avalanche of flame tumbling down the trail.

Woo twists around, running backwards as he redirects the flames into the forest. Sweat has begun to bead on his brow, and you believe it has little to do with the actual warmth of the fire, but instead the effort required in combating it.

This isn’t going to work. You can’t outrun this monster, just as San can’t slay it and Woo cannot hold off its flames forever.

You’re going to die.

The realization is not as startling as it should be. After all, the brink of death is a place you’ve found yourself numerous times the last few weeks. Beginning at outrunning the black-clad men in your castle, followed by about a dozen more deadly challenges since.

Which means there must be a way to maneuver your way out of this one too. What you need is a change in perspective, in strategy.

You cast another glance over your shoulder, the snake only a dozen feet from you now, long body winding back and forth behind it.

“We need to split up!” You shout, to which Woo shoots you an incredulous glance.

“So it can pick us off one by one?” He retorts, appalled by the idea. You shake your head.

“It can’t see us,” you say, words tumbling immediately from your lips as you think of them. “If noise starts coming from different directions, we may be able to confuse it.”

He opens his mouth, prepared to shut down the idea, but pauses. His eyes light up in realization that it actually might work, before filling with annoyance at remembering that the idea is also yours.

“Dammit, Libaiyan,” Woo mutters, turning around once again to redirect the monster’s flames. He groans in frustration. “Fine. We split up.”

“We all run into the forest on the count of three,” San chimes in. He casts a glance at each of you in turn. You, Woo, and Seonghwa all give a nod of affirmation, and San swallows hard, breathing heavy as he speaks.

“Three…two…one!”

The four of you split off from one another. You and Woo both sprint to your right, while San and Seonghwa turn left. You run through the forest, no trails to be found, narrowly avoiding the sharp branches of the ashen trees.

You can hear the snake behind you, the beast also having chosen to go right rather than left.“Great,” you think pleasantly, taking a sharp twist westward as the hissing grows louder behind you. “Just my luck.”

Another blast of fire erupts from its mouth, and you dart behind a tree to avoid being swallowed by its flames. The large glowing blaze emerges from both sides of you, and the heat is scolding against your skin, burning even if not directly touching you.

The monster appears beside you, lightning-fast as it continues in the direction you had been running. It passes right by you, continuing down further into the forest.

You let out a sigh of relief, as the beast continues to move further and further away, its head becoming a small - well, smaller - shadow in the distance. Its body continues to move beside you, the hundreds of feet winding down like the string of a fishing pole. Careful to keep your footsteps quiet as you walk, you tread with caution back towards the trail.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Woo doing the same a few trees away. You catch his eye, and he gives a curt nod, before heading over to you.

“Is it really gone… Just like that?” You ask, astounded by the ease of your escape.

“Looks like it,” Woo replies, although the unease in his tone sounds like he’s not quite convinced himself.

However, he does continue moving forward, and you jog to catch up behind him. You don’t say anything, not wanting to push your luck. It appears that at least for the moment, he’s forgotten to be hostile towards you, and you’re more than willing to soak in a rare fraction of peace in the man’s presence.

It’s after less than a minute of walking - the trail appearing just a few metres in front of you - that Woo stops. You come to a halt, raising an eyebrow. He doesn’t notice, gaze fixated on the tail that continues to wind down.

“Is it just me,” he starts, before swallowing hard. “Or is it moving faster?”

You narrow your eyes, as it’s a bit difficult to tell. The scales create almost an illusion against the blackness of the ash, making it hard to notice that it’s moving at all, but you think he’s right. It is moving faster, which is strange considering there isn’t actually anything for it to be chasing, so why speed up?

The answer becomes obvious when both you and Woo look back into the shadows of the forest, only to see a dark, twisted silhouette reappearing in the distance.

The beast let’s out another harrowing roar, fire once again exploding out from its gaping mouth. The trees there are not as barren as the ones closest to the trail, and you watch as the leaves catch fire around it, casting a smouldering glow that expands as more begin to burn. It’s ominous, like hundreds of small candles being lit all at once, and your breath dies in your throat.

You feel a hand wrap around your forearm, yanking you sideways. You stumble as Woo pulls you into him, his back pressed against the bark of a tree, hiding the both of you. His eyes are wide, but surprisingly calm. Alert but poised, as he listens as the sound of the beast’s hissing becomes closer.

Terror seizes within your chest. At least when you were running you had something to focus on, to keep your mind busy. Sitting here as the beast moves closer makes you feel helpless, like predator and prey.

Woo suddenly places his hand over your mouth, and you realize that your breathing has become heavy. Not out of tiredness, but panic. You glance up at him, although he does not meet your eyes, his own gaze trained forward. Avoidant as his jaw is set firm in annoyance.

He detests you, and yet here you are, pressed against his chest with his fingers settled on your lips. He wants you dead, and yet it appears a part of him will not let it happen so easily.

Even now, Woo is not as cruel as he believes himself to be, and you feel almost sorry for him.

The monster roars once more, and this time sparks billow to your left, the two of you finally within the beast’s reach. The sound of its scales sliding through the dirt becomes softer, as the monster begins to slow down in its pursuit. You note the familiar noise of puffing air, as the beast catches a whiff of your scent.

Woo’s eyes fall shut and his grip on your arm tightens, as if he needs something to hold onto.

For that something to be you, this really may be the end.

Your eyes still do not leave Woo’s own, even if his are not open to meet yours. When you speak you keep your voice low, so quiet that rather than hearing your words, he can likely better feel them with his fingers against your lips.

“I’m sorry,” you say. Woo’s eyes open at this, meeting your own. He does not smile. He neither nods nor whispers any form of acceptance.

Yet, he also does not deny them. At the very least, you know that he heard you in your sincerity, and perhaps that is the most that you can ask for.

Closing your eyes, you place your hand on his tunic, fingers clutching onto its fabric. The beast’s sniffing has become louder, only a dozen feet off by your estimate.

“Hey!” A voice suddenly shouts. It’s far off, much deeper into the forest. When he shouts again, you can tell that it’s San. “Hey! Over here!”

The beast lets out a loud roar and fire engulfs the tree you’re hiding behind, flames rolling out on both sides of you. Woo pulls you further into him, away from the heat that nips at your exposed flesh, causing you to wince.

Then the monster takes off, deeper down into the forest, leaving the two of you behind. Woo removes his hand from your lips, and the two of you take a moment to breathe, heavy and relieved.

This relief is short-lived, however, as Woo’s eyes widen. Realization dawning on him.

He scowls, shoving you off of him. “That dumbass,” he spits, before taking off into the forest, following the monster that has now shifted its pursuit onto San. Chasing after him, you follow the monster's tail as it winds and twists through the trees, moving at rapid speed.

When you finally catch up to them all, the forest has been replaced by some sort of clearing, the wind fierce and ground coated in jagged rock rather than dirt. Looking ahead, you can see that past the monster pursuing both San and Seonghwa is… nothing.

The rocky landscape cuts off, and past it all you can see is empty space, followed by the next mountain over in the distance. A cliff. Your heart pounds faster.

Woo appears to notice the sudden drop the same time you do, his pace quickening as he summons a ball of fire in his hand, throwing it towards the beast. It does nothing, of course, merely bouncing off of its scales. It doesn’t even grab the monster’s attention, its focus trained solely on the two men in front of it, not even noticing that you and Woo have nearly closed the distance.

Seonghwa’s hand slips into San’s, and both he and the swordsman share a look. Nothing is said, but as they both nod, there seems to be some sort of understanding made between them.

Together they run off the edge of the cliff.

“No!” Woo shouts, although it’s more of a horrified shriek than anything else. The monster twists away from the cliff’s edge, not interested in following suit in their plummet.

It all happens in the split of a second, as Woo grabs your hand and drags you with him. He makes massive leaps and bounds, desperate as he pulls the two of you past the beast.

Not only past the beast, but down the make-shift pathway created by its absence and over the cliff’s edge.

The moment your feet leave the comfortable firmness of the ground, dangling in the weightless state of limbo between the earth and sky, you decide that this is a feeling that you never want to experience again. Fortunately, it appears you won’t have to worry about this, considering you won’t be living much longer.

Your stomach plummets as you do, tunic billowing out behind you as you fall through the air. Looking down, your eyes sting from the wind blowing upwards, although you force yourself to keep them open.

You see San and Seonghwa falling beneath you, a solid distance away but also not yet having splattered against the ground.

Or…not ground…water.

Water.

A massive lake expanding from the cliff's edge all the way to the next mountain. A beautiful blue lake, reflecting the light of the moon against the night sky, glassy in its stillness.

It’s not ground beneath you, it’s water.

Despite yourself, you laugh. A joyous, disbelieving laugh at the sheer luck of it.

What are the odds that out of all the cliff’s you could have thrown yourself off of, it would have been one with a deep and expansive stash of water beneath it? Next to none, and you can’t help but smile.

Woo drops your hand, extending both of his own out in front of him and down towards the lake. Clenching both of his hands into fists, you watch as the lake breaks its stillness by beginning to ripple. Good, otherwise you may as well be falling onto cement. He then pulls his arms upward, and the water rapidly rises, minimizing the fall by at least fifty extra feet.

Woo manages the maneuver just in time, as both San and Seonghwa crash into the lake a mere second before yourselves.

The water is a blast of cold, engulfing you as its chill settles deep within your bones. You made sure to land feet-first with your body tight. You remember years ago Mingi telling you that was the right way to land, the only way, if you had hope of not compressing your spine or breaking any bones. This was after he’d had water training during his earlier years in the kingdom guard. He’d been gone for a week near Dildysus’ shores, coming back tanned and with a dozen stories to tell. At the time you were envious of not being able to go with him, pettily treating him with a cold shoulder and avoidant gaze. Now you’re just eternally grateful he took the time to share with you some of what he’d learnt.

You open your eyes and are greeted with what is mostly darkness, although you can make out the bubbles of your breath and a few dark blurs that you sincerely hope are the boys. Kicking upwards, the bottoms of your feet burn, ankle aching in a way that you’re sure it’s at least minorly fractured.

With the severity you could have had in your injuries, you can’t bring yourself to fret over it.

Face breaking past the surface, you take in a massive gulp of air, the wind having been completely knocked from your lungs upon impact. San and Seonghwa both turn to face you, Woo popping up soon afterwards. None of you speak right away, taking a moment to catch your breath, to take in the inconceivable fact that you all are still alive.

Eventually, San speaks, motioning behind you. “Make our way over there?”

None of you respond, it’s not necessary. Instead you simply set in motion towards the shoreline, to safety at last.

When you reach the shore, it’s on your stomach compared to your feet. Dragging yourself up onto the beach - which is more dirt than sand - you pull the rest of your body up by your elbows.

The couple of miles you had to swim felt a lot longer than it looked, even with Woo creating a current to help carry you the length of the distance.

San is a little ways ahead of you, pulling himself up into a seated position before flopping down onto his back, chest heaving as he looks up at the stars.

You hear Seonghwa cough from behind, wet and hoarse in a way that you can tell he’s choking on water that he swallowed. You cast him a glance, the empath sitting slumped on his knees, Woo giving him a firm slap to the back that causes him to cough up even more water.

You lay down, sand embedding itself in your hair and rough along your cheek, but you can’t hold yourself up any longer.

What a sorry bunch the lot of you are.

“All our supplies,” Woo says eventually, defeated as he lets out a guttural cough before continuing. “It’s all gone. Our tents, our horse, our food, our sleeping bags, everything. Gone.”

“Just be thankful we’re alive,” San retorts bluntly.

You know that’s not the best thing to say at the moment, and you brace yourself for Woo’s response.

“Oh, sure. All thanks to you, right?” Woo says, glowering. “What were you thinking, shouting after it like that?”

“I was thinking about saving your life,” San responds, tone far more calm than Woo’s.

“My life didn’t need saving.”

“It definitely did,” you think, but you know better than to interject yourself into this.

“What you were doing was almost getting yourself killed,” Woo continues, voice rising with every word. “I mean really, what was the plan San? You threw yourself - no, sorry, you and Seonghwa - off a cliff! You think that’s some kind of heroic gesture, that I’d be thankful?”

San does not respond.

“No, seriously. Tell me, San, because that has to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, and I’m at a loss at what you were possibly thinking.”

San does not look away from the sky as he speaks. “Would you two go check if there’s any place we can take shelter around here? I need to speak with Woo alone.”

Seonghwa and you share a nervous glance. He purses his lips together, worried about what may be said and what that may mean for the rest of your journey.

Although, this isn’t either of your business, and you both awkwardly rise to your feet. “Alright,” Seonghwa says, the two of you beginning to make your way down the beach.

You try to catch his eye again, to see what he may be thinking about all of this, but he keeps his gaze straight ahead. The two of you don’t talk again even as you make it past the beach, down the open field and into the forest’s thicket.

San waits until the two of you are completely out of sight, having disappeared from the shoreline and into the woods. He still does not look at Woo, does not want to see his angry furrowed brows, his tense jaw and clenched fists. The stars are easier to speak to.

He isn’t sure where he gains the strength to say it. Perhaps there is something about surviving a plummet to your death that makes you take a step back and think about things. San doesn’t really know. He just speaks.

“Maybe I was thinking the same thing as you when you dragged her off that cliff with you. That same reckless, thoughtless panic that you felt when you saw me go over and decided to throw yourself after me. That blind instinct that says I’m willing to die in a heartbeat, so long as it gives you a chance to survive.”

San waits for Woo to say something, but he does not. Although the swordsman can hear him shuffle, clearly growing uncomfortable, exposed.

Amidst Woo’s silence, San connects Kuroku’s constellation in his mind. He and sister used to search for them in the night sky when he was little, finding Libaiya’s sun and Zaria’s siren amidst the bountiful little glowing beads. That was before Jude died. Before everything became so damn complicated.

San sighs. “I’m tired, Woo.”

There’s so much that he could be referencing, too much, but Woo understands it to be about the journey. “I know,” he says, his voice softening slightly. “But we’ll get to Kuroku soon, and then things can go back to normal.”

San laughs, a breathy chuckle. “Normal,” he says, mulling over the word, the silliness of it. “What is our normal?”

“What do you mean?” Woo asks, prodding a little further after being met with silence. “San?”

“When are we not fighting? Or avoiding each other? Or pretending this limbo we’re in doesn’t matter when it so obviously does?”

When his words are met with silence, San swallows hard. His throat feels tight, almost sticky. Like his body is begging him not to do this, his heart screaming at him to not say anything, not to burn this bridge even if it’s falling apart at his feet.

But San has to do this. If not for his heart, then for his sanity.

“We’re killing each other, Woo,” he whispers, still not looking at him. Not letting himself be swayed. “Or at least… you’re killing me.”

There’s a thick silence that follows these words, that leaves San a little surprised. He’d expected the elemental to get defensive or angry, just as he had been up the mountain earlier. Instead he remains quiet, hesitant.

Perhaps he can tell that this time is different.

“What are you saying, San?” Woo asks, quiet.

“I’m saying that I’m done,” San replies. “I can’t keep fighting like this, I can’t keep watching you throw yourself into open fire over jealousy, I can’t keep letting this thing between us put everyone in danger.”

San drops his voice to a whisper, so quiet that he isn’t sure if Woo can even hear him, the words too vulnerable to be said so loud. “I can’t keep waking up alone.”

San can hear Woo swallow, hard and thick. When he speaks, his voice is shaky.

“Is this about her?” Woo asks, but his tone is not accusatory, nor angry and jealous as he so often is when the subject of you arises. Instead it is broken, defeated. Rejected.

“No,” San answers, and it’s with a small laugh. Not of the condescending kind, just a hum towards the idea of all of this starting with you, as if he’d only started feeling this way mere weeks ago. “She may have been the final nail in the coffin, but we’ve been hammering for years, Woo.”

Another silent pause, before the elemental’s voice becomes even smaller. “Is there anything I could do to change your mind?”

San considers this. May as well be honest.  “Yes, but you couldn’t do it.”

“What is it?” Woo asks immediately, driven by scheer instinct. Willing to do what it takes, willing to be thoughtless and reckless. Willing to jump off any cliff need be.

“You would need to give me all of you,” San says softly, a comet whirling by in the sky above him, as if what he’s saying is some sort of wish. Fool’s hope. “No bits and pieces. No secrets, just full honesty. Nothing hidden. Stripped bare.”

“You already have…” Woo rushes, before abruptly trailing off. San finally looks up at him, pushing himself back onto his elbows, meeting the elemental’s eyes.

Woo’s face has fallen, mouth drawn open as the words fail to come out, as he realizes they would be a lie.

San does not have all of him. There are things he won’t share, vulnerabilities hidden deep within him, a part of himself that he is not willing to unravel.

San wishes the Woo would take a breath, then unwind himself. That he would explain everything, why he pushes San away yet refuses to let him out of his reach, or why he needs San so badly on the coldest of winter nights, but disappears come the sunrise in the morning.

He’s always believed that this is because Woo also loves Seonghwa, that there is space in his heart reserved for another, a place that San can never hold no matter how much he tries.

But the way that Woo looks at him now, his mouth drawn open and eyes wide with an agonizing desperation, San knows that there is something deeper than that. Something dark, something holding the elemental back, something that Woo’s heart pleads for San to know but is unwilling to actually share.

Something that Woo will never tell him, that makes him wonder if he truly knows the elemental at all, and San is too tired to hold on to false hope any longer.

“We’ll get to Kuroku, then we’ll go home and figure out what we’re going to do about this,” San says finally, and he knows his voice sounds cold. Inside his heart is screaming, wailing, clawing for attention. His mind shuts it down. “For now let’s just finish what we started.”

“Okay,” Woo answers, gaze falling down from San’s, staring at the ground. The little speckles of grey-coloured sand surround them, murky and wet, cold. San wants to reach out and touch him. Hold him, kiss him, make him feel better. He stops himself.

He supposes that this will take a lot of time to go away. So be it.

“I’m going to go see where they ran off to,” San says. He rises to his feet, and his knees feel like jelly. He wants to collapse, his brain buzzing, vision foggy within this state of delirium. It feels like he’s not in control, cutting himself off from his emotions leaving him empty and hollow, weightless.

“Okay,” Woo says again, even quieter than the last, still not looking at him.

“Don’t stay out here too long. It’s cold and you’re soaked,” San says, before his feet are moving towards the forest and away from the beach, footprints trailing behind him on the sand.

“Sure,” Woo says, and his voice shakes. There’s a certain wetness to it, raspy as it rises up from his throat, and San realizes the elemental is holding back tears. It nearly stalls him, as San isn’t sure if he’s ever seen the elemental cry beyond a few silent tears.

He knows he would not be able to handle it, and so he continues forward, leaving Woo behind.

When San finds you in the cave that you and Seonghwa found, his expression is solemn. Sitting down a couple feet to your left, he reaches behind him to remove his sword from its sheath, only to remember that it’s no longer there. It’s somewhere back up the cliff, lost to the bushes after he’d been thrown off the monster’s back.

Upon realizing it’s gone, San sighs. He runs his hands through his hair, before keeping them placed on the back of his neck, as if he can no longer hold his head up on his own.

“Impressive fire,” he says suddenly, in reference to the hand-made fire crafted in front of you. It is rather impressive, made of a bounty of small sticks and logs all arranged in an intricate fashion, as well as some sort of fern stuffing the middle that helped get it started.

You chuckle, the thought of you containing the wilderness skills to make something like this amusing. “Seonghwa started it,” you explain, and San smiles, before glancing around the darkness of the cave.

“Where is he?” He asks.

You nod towards the cave’s exit. “Took a walk in the forest.”

San quirks an eyebrow. “It’s the middle of the night, almost sunrise.”

“Yeah, well,” you start, albeit awkwardly. You don’t want to sound too self-pitiful.  “I don’t think he felt comfortable sitting alone with me.”

San’s smile falls, own eye drifting from yours to the flames. “Ah.”

You decide to change the subject. “Where’s Woo?”

“Down at the beach.”

When he doesn’t add anything else, you know that he doesn’t wish to speak about the elemental any longer.

The two of you sit in a not-so-comfortable silence, before you notice the dried blood on his tunic, having soaked through the fabric of both of his forearms. Amidst the more immediate danger, you’d forgotten the nasty fall he’d taken from the beast’s back, having wiped the skin clean off. You grimace at the thought.

“Your arms,” you start, clearing your throat. “Do they hurt?”

San glances down at them, eye widening as if to say: “Oh, right. That happened.”

“Uh, not really,” he says, before pulling up one of his sleeves. His breath catches at the sight of the skin, painted with bright bloody patches and a consistent red all throughout. He lets out an uncomfortable laugh, in shock. “Although, it looks like they should, doesn’t it?”

You frown, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Do you want me to clean them?”

“We don’t have salve anymore, remember?” San says with a nonchalant shrug, brushing it off.

“Still,” you start, glancing behind you. “Even just some water could help.”

Before he can protest otherwise, you rise to your feet. The sound of dripping water can be heard from deeper within the cave, loud enough that you figure it would be a quicker journey than walking back to the shore. Besides, you want to give Woo his space.

Following the dripping, darkness swells around you, the light of the fire fading in the growing distance. You and Seonghwa hadn’t ventured any further than the opening, not wanting to risk stumbling upon any more deadly monsters in your search for shelter. Fortunately, you find the source of the dripping before the darkness becomes too thick. It falls as a steady stream, trailing from the top of the cave, likely sourced by a pond of sorts further up the mountain.

Taking a page from Seonghwa’s book, you rip off the bottom of your tunic, using it as a make-shift cloth as you soak it in the falling stream.

When you make your way back to San, he gives you a soft smile, although it quickly falls as you begin to dab at the scrapes with the shirt-cloth. He winces, attempting to tug his arm away, but you keep your grip on his wrist firm.

You don’t need to explain it to him, he’s surely had enough injuries to know that momentary pain is a small price to pay against infection. He stops pulling, letting his arm fall limp in your grasp. His gaze drifts up from his arm to your face, settling there for a moment, before trailing back down.

“San…” you start, hesitant as you trail the cloth along his skin. Perhaps it is unwise to ask, to risk stirring the pot more than you already have, but you need to know. “Why are you letting me do this? Why aren’t you avoiding me like Seonghwa, or yelling at me like Woo?”

When he doesn’t respond right away, the question quickly turns into a nervous ramble. “I mean, I screwed you over. You need that money, San. How can you just sit there and…and smile at me, knowing what I did to you? To all of you?”

That same soft, sad smile spreads over his lips now as you say those words. He sighs, although it is not a defeated or exhausted sound, more contemplative. When he looks up, his gaze is more gentle than you deserve.

“I probably should be more mad at you, shouldn’t I?” He says, letting out a quiet laugh that’s more a quick puff of air through his nose.

You respond with a nod, pursing your lips together. He sighs. “I guess… I guess I just get it. I know what it’s like to be desperate for something, to do things that you know are wrong and eat you up inside, but it feels like there’s no other option.”

Your brows furrow, watching him carefully. You don’t look away when he meets your eyes, a way of asking without saying anything aloud. He hesitates for only a moment, before swallowing hard, good eye flickering downward and away from yours.

“In the year after Jay killed my family, before I met Woo, I was living in The Cat’s Cradle. I had nowhere else to go, and to work towards paying off my debt, I had to work as his errand boy.”

San swallows hard, squinching his eye shut as if relieving it all. “I did a lot of things I’m not proud of, that I hated myself for then and still do now. Spying on people who had just as little as I had, who were also in debt to Jay, ratting them out. I may not have actually killed anyone, but I may as well have by turning them into him.”

“San…” You start, but trail off as you’re unsure of what to say.

“I guess in a way I always knew it was too good to be true,” San says softly, lip curving upward, although it’s more defeated than anything else. “It would be too easy. Much easier than I deserve.”

You open your mouth to say something, to likely spout your condolences and that he certainly does not deserve what you’ve done to him, but he must not want to hear it.

“I can tell that the world hasn’t been kind to you, just as it hasn’t been to me,” he says, not giving you the chance to speak. “Your family is also dead. Powerful men are also hunting you. You also have nothing left.”

Tears well in your eyes, and he takes the cloth from your hand, setting it down on the ground. He replaces it with his own hand, gentle as his fingers intertwine with yours. “I may be disappointed, but I can’t be mad. It’d be too hypocritical.”

It’s too kind, too understanding. The tears begin to slip from your eyes, and he reaches forward with his other hand to wipe at them, grazing his thumb along your cheekbone. When it makes its way to the corner of your face, he keeps it there, the rest of his hand cradling your head.

“Don’t cry,” he mumbles, thumb rubbing back and forth against your skin. “I said this to make you feel better, not to make you cry.”

“Sorry,” you say, with a breathy laugh. It quickly falters, fading into a stifled sob. Your lip quivers, face contorting inward on itself. Mingi always said you were an ugly crier.

“I’m sorry, San,” you say, and this time it is different. This time it is so much more.

He smiles. “I know.”

The silence that surrounds the two of you is thick. He continues to watch you, eye holding yours. A part of you wants to shy away, knowing how weak you look, the vulnerability in your swollen eyes and trembling lips.

Yet, you don’t, because at the same time you feel safe. You don’t know the last time you felt so truly understood, the last time you were stripped bare. Not lying, not pretending to be someone you are not, not walking on the egg-shells of a mistake.

And in the face of that person - the person that you truly are, horrible faults and all - he does not shy away.

He has seen you unravelled but holds you all the same, and amidst the situation's ugliness, it is the most accepted you have ever felt.

San leans in, slow and careful, like the air has transformed into molasses. His gaze falls, lingering on your lips. Your heart races as he draws closer, quickening beats that echo through you.

When he’s only a few inches away, he stops, and something flickers over his features. Sorrow, hurt, and all the emotions that have been building for so very long. In you, in him, in all of you.

Somehow, you know that this hurt is not about you, about this moment. This pure and vulnerable moment that he does not wish to taint with the pain of something else.

Instead of finding your own, his lips drift upwards, settling onto your cheek. Onto a stray tear that slipped past his thumb, gentle as he removes the wetness from your skin.

He pulls back to place his forehead against your own. He is warm, breath holding that same rich scent of coffee as it did a couple days ago. It’s cozy, comforting, and you feel the need to let him know how deeply you appreciate this. Appreciate him.

“Thank you,” you whisper, sitting in the promise of a kiss, noses brushing but lips never quite touching.

While he does not say anything out loud, the way his hand gently squeezes your own tells you everything that you could have wanted to hear.

Wooyoung pauses at the entrance of the cave. Having followed the flickering light of the fire and the sound of hushed voices, he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to find.

However, whatever he may have anticipated, it was not Seonghwa sitting outside of the cave with his arms drawn around his knees, avoiding the display of you and San huddled around the fire. Your faces are pressed so close together that Wooyoung wonders if the two of you had just finished sharing a kiss.

His eyes are puffy and his nose is stuffed. He feels gross. Wooyoung hasn’t cried in a long time, at least not like that. Maybe since Yeonjun and Winter, which makes sense, as this is the closest he’s felt since then to losing someone he loves. Any tears he’s shed from then on have either been minimal, or born from pure fury. These were neither.

He sits in the entrance for at least a minute, and when it doesn’t seem like the two of you are going to stop any time soon, he walks over to sit with Seonghwa.

The empath glances up at him, letting out a short sigh. “Hey,” he says, shuffling over to make space next to him.

“Hey,” Wooyoung replies, taking a seat. Despite himself, Wooyoung sniffles, and Seonghwa’s gaze darts over. Wooyoung knows that he’s giving him the look without having to meet the blonde’s eyes.

“Do you want me to-”

Wooyoung’s answer is immediate, knowing exactly what it is the empath plans to offer. “No.”

“Alright,” Seonghwa says quietly, casting a glance behind him, at the two of you by the flames. Wooyoung notices that Seonghwa doesn’t seem angry. He’s not fuming or sulking, more so impatient, fingers tapping along his knees as he seems to simply be waiting for the two of you to finish.

Wooyoung doesn’t get it, how Seonghwa handles these things. How he doesn’t explode. How he doesn’t lose himself in anger the way Wooyoung does. How he avoids your gaze rather than stares daggers into it.

He turns to Seonghwa, nodding towards the both of you. “Aren’t you mad?” He asks.

“No… Yes? I don’t know,” Seonghwa starts, a tad frustrated. He leans back so that his head presses against the cave's rocky exterior, lips drawn into a weak smile. “If San can forgive her, I'll let him. It’s not my place to foster grudges for him.”

That’s not really what Wooyoung meant, and he tries to be a little more direct.

“How does it not bother you seeing them like that?” Wooyoung asks, along with the unspoken question: “How do I make it not bother me?”

Seonghwa laughs, although it is low and unhumourous “There isn’t any jealousy to be had, Woo. She isn’t mine to keep. She never has been, even when I thought of it as…more than it was. I always knew that it wasn’t meant to last longer than Kuroku. We’ve just reached the ending a little sooner than I expected.”

When Wooyoung doesn’t respond, Seonghwa shrugs. “If she can bring San a little peace, well, why should I not let her?”

Wooyoung doesn’t know what to say to that. When he looks at you he sees the Libaiyan orphanage, he hears the oath he gave swearing complete obedience to your father three times a day. He thinks of those nights he spent dreaming of your entire family's demise, of what he would give to be the one to set that kingdom on fire.

But he also sees the broken girl crying over the horrors she committed. He sees your worried gaze lifting him from the sauna’s fog and casting him a trusting glance across the table when trying to trick the mimic.

He sees you knees deep in the mud, begging him to understand that you never knew about the orphanages. Tears in your eyes as the two of you were at death's door, whispering about how sorry you were.

How can you be both of those people at once? How can you be his greatest enemy, but also the only person he’s been able to tell the truth about his past?

He hates you. He also doesn't.

Wooyoung doesn't know what to feel. He wishes he could just be angry. It's so much easier to be angry than anything else. Than this, whatever it is.

Wooyoung sighs, casting a glance back at both you and San. You’ve finally pulled apart, backs turned as you both watch the flames. He can hear you whispering, and would be able to eavesdrop if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to hear what San might be saying to you.

With the thought of San returning to his mind, his face immediately feels too hot again, throat scratchy and his eyes wet.

He relives it. San’s cold voice, his defeated laugh, his footsteps following behind him as he left Wooyoung in the chilly, wet sand.

“You would need to give me all of you,” San had said, right after saying it was something that Wooyoung could never do.

The worst part? He’s right.

Wooyoung’s chest aches, and then it begins to shake, convulsing. The sobs rattle within him as he does not allow them to be released from his mouth. San can’t hear him, he will not make this any worse than it already is.

“We’re killing each other, Woo. Or at least… you’re killing me.” San’s words.

“We both loved you, and this is what we get for it?” Winter.

Two different beats to the same drum. Is this what he does to the people he loves? Hurts them? Makes them feel worthless? Kills them, or at least their souls?

He’s always feared of getting too close to San, of what he might do if he let down those remaining walls. If he would hurt him, if he would lose him.

He’s always tried so hard not to lose San. Steering the swordsman away from any perceived danger. From you, initially. Trying to protect him in any way he can. Even when it’s irrational, even when he knows it's only pissing San off, he’s never been able to help himself.

When San threw himself off the cliff, Wooyoung felt the world crumble to ash around him. It was Yeonjun all over again, the moment his head cracked against that rock, and nothing else mattered.

That would not happen to San. Not again, Wooyoung would not let it. He would not lose him.

Well, here he is, having lost him anyway, just in a different way. Perhaps it was inevitable, doomed from the moment they met, yet another curse on the god’s behalf.

Perhaps San is better off without him. Safer.

Wooyoung places his palm over his own mouth, stifling another sob. He feels a hand settle on his shoulder. Seonghwa. Fingers moving back and forth, he rubs the area around his neck in a soothing, comforting fashion.

Wooyoung would normally shove his hand away, tell him to piss off. Don’t get too close to this, don’t trouble yourself with my problems, take your hand away from the flames or else you’re going to get burned.

He doesn’t. Instead Wooyoung lets Seonghwa touch him. He does not move closer, he does not place his head on the empath's shoulder. He does not fully accept it, but he also does not push him away.

And for tonight alone, Wooyoung breaks.

~~~~~

next chapter.

[samandmaxmansionplay]

Mansion Play hiatus + discussion of story

If you didn’t know, this project is currently on hold due to the fact that I’m making my own videogame, unrelated to Sam&Max. In fact, I have a lot of different projects I want to work on, and there is also the fact that I have a personal life, so you can see why Mansion Play might take a very long time for its release. This was always a project made for fun, and it is not abandoned forever, I would like to come back to it from time to time, and maybe one day I’ll have something worth showing.

However, it’s true that there is a lot I would like to talk about this ‘game’, and I tried not to talk about it too much when a closer release was possible. But now that it isn’t, I think I would like to discuss a lot of the ideas, events, characters, ect I have for this game. There will be spoilers ahead, but nothing too big, I won’t reveal who the murderer is or a bunch of other twists, but I will still talk a lot about the story, show a couple of art I’ve drawn and a bunch of the script!

This will be long, but I’m excited to talk a lot. Enjoy!

-Early Development

Mansion Play was my idea for how Sam&Max would handle a murder mystery, I thought it was an extremely fun idea and I’m still surprised they’ve never done it before. I had a lot of very clear ideas since the beginning. I knew I wanted the murder to take place in a glamorous party with celebrities and rich people and I knew I wanted the story to take place in a snowy day, which is why one of the first decisions I made was to give Max a more blue-ish white than usual.

I always liked the idea that the cancelled Sam&Max game ‘Freelance Police’ had, that it had a lot of minigames that made the story flow better. The telltale games tried to do that a couple of times, but it was clearly not the same. A big idea for this game was to revive that concept, aside from the usual puzzles, you would have to go through the occasional minigame to progress the story. It’s one of the reason why this game is called ‘Mansion Play’! Just not all…

I and many others were big fans that the Devil’s Playhouse let you play as Max, so this ‘game’ was going to present a Max feature as well, but only on certain rooms. He doesn’t have psychic powers, he’s kind of useless, but we love him for that!

Overall the idea I had for this game was very vague, but it started to develop further and further and I really liked where it was going. I decided who the murderer was very very early on, it was not a last minute decision, it could not be someone else other than that character and the moment I came up with that idea I was so excited to continue with this project.

(^ actual notes I wrote.)

-The Characters

The game features new side characters and tons of NPCs. These are a bunch of them!

They will help you with puzzles, with the mystery or maybe they won’t and they just give you a bunch of fun dialogue.

But then there is the secondary characters, who have a lot of protagonism and are very important for the story and mystery.

One of the characters has a fun game mechanic, and that’s the fashion designer, who is enjoys reading murder mysteries and would like to solve this one just for fun. She features an Ace Attorney-like mechanic where you can present her objects and she can tell you something about them, or even reveal something you hadn’t seen before.

-Mansion and Game Structure

The game is divided in the different parts of the mansion you can explore, although the game does allow you to walk around freely most of the time.

The mansion is very luxurious but seems to have a lot of toys laying around as well, given the fact that Manny Money, the owner of the mansion, is also the owner of a big Toy company, which is the reason why he’s so rich in the first place.

In the different areas, there is an important character you’ll need to interrogate, but they won’t let you interrogate them that easily, you have to earn it!

Aside from that, there are a lot of secret rooms, some you will need to find to progress the story, others you can find if you want, to learn more about the sam&max mansion play lore.

The game starts outside the mansion and you proceeds to a couple of different areas: the entrance, the main party room, the restaurant and even a kid’s play area. Then a murder happens, whoops, and now it’s time to explore the rest of the mansion!

You start with the Casino/VIP play area. There you will find the capitalist pig character, who is too distracted playing poker and having a good time to waste his time with you two.

Then you will go to the Pool/Aquarium area. There you will find the fish character, they are very anxious and you need to find a way to calm them down.

Then you will go to the library/computer area, you want to talk to the fashion designer character but it seems she has questions for you too. She is a reporter after all, nevermind if it’s for a fashion magazine.

After that you go to the theater area, to talk to the theatrical skeleton supervillain character. But he wants to enjoy some good theater, you shouldn’t bother him, he has minions and a gun. You should find another way to convince him to talk.

After that well… a lot happens! Keep exploring the mansion, maybe the mystery will start to make more sense. Or maybe it will make less sense, which means you’re doing a good job!

Aside from the mansion. Each chapter begins with a short flashback with Sam and Max as kids! It will make sense later.

-The Demo

Maybe I can’t talk much about the rest of the game… but I think we can talk about the first chapter! In fact, I would like to summarize it. I want to share some of the story already, I don’t mind if it’s just the beginning. There will be spoilers though!

You have seen the opening already. (And if you haven’t, here it is!)

After that you already know (another video!) that you need to convince the body guard that you’re totally one of the guests of the list. You collect a bat in the process. After that, you enter the mansion! You get to briefly talk to a woman with a gossip podcast and to one of the butlers of the mansion.

---

Sam: This sure is a nice party, huh?

Gossip Lady: Oh, you bet! I can’t believe how fast Manny Money has organized it despite the short time… and the break up, and his company crashing and burning as we speak… I guess he really needed this party, huh?

Sam: You know normally my partner and I go through a dialogue tree and a tedious amount of object hunting to get the information we need, but you’re just giving us those unfortunate news about Mr Money like an old classmate in a highschool reunion.

Gossip Lady: What can I say? That’s my job.

Gossip Lady: By the way, did you know Mr Money is actually 46 years old? A whole. year. older. than what he says he is!

Max: Scandalous!

Gossip Lady: I know right?

---

You go use the elevator (or the stairs, in Max’s case) and arrive to a hallway. Suddenly, the capitalist pig shows up and shoves Max out of the way, what a jerk.

---

Sam: You okay, Max?

Max: I will be when I break that guy’s legs!

Pig: Mhm? Oh I’m sorry, I’d say that was an accident…

Pig: But it wasn’t! I just like pushing people inferior than me!

Max: Well how about I push YOU down the stairs?!

Pig: Hah! I’d never use such a commoner thing like the stairs! Good luck trying to push me off a high class elevator, though. Now, I must leave, I hope you think about this experience tonight, crying helps you fall asleep easier!

Max: Grr!!

Sam: Just ignore him, Max, I’m sure that guy will get enough punishment in the afterlife

Max: I’ll gladly help him get there as soon as possible.

---

You walk down the hallway, there are two doors: the kid’s area and the main party area. But outside the kid’s area there is a kid playing with an electric toy car. The toy works with a mic, which you might need later. For now, you talk to the kid and find out he’s Manny’s nephew. And he’s a jerk too!

---

Max: Sam, I normally love kids who are massive jerks. Why do I wish for this kid to fall down the stairs?

Sam: He’s rich, Max.

---

You make your way to the main party room, and you see all of the main characters having… a conversation? Not a super pleasant one, though. Here shines the personality of each one of them.

---

Manny: It’s about time you show up. I was starting to get excited you were not coming!

Pig: Ohohoho, Manny, your attempts to embarrass me in front of so many people are pathetic, even if it’s working.

Manny: Forgive me, old friend, I know you’re not good at comebacks

Pig: … Heh.

Manny: Before you interrupted us, we were having a bit of a predicament. I was wondering if someone else would like to give a speech by my side.

Mysterious Woman: Why would you want that?

Manny: It’s yearly event, dear! We are all busy important people, when is the last chance we’ve gotten a chance to all meet together?

Mysterious Woman: Don’t call me ‘dear’.

*Skull shows up* Skull: What is this I heard about a speech?

Manny: Ah, hi Skull…

Skull: I would love to join you, Manny! You know I love a good audience. I give speeches all the time to my enemies- That is to say, to my business clients.

Manny: Right.

Manny: That is… so kind of you-

*Fashion designer shows up* Fashion designer: Mr Money, hi, can I have a few questions?

Manny: Oh! Is this an interview? I’m great at those too! Gossip magazines love me, I’m great at creating conflict, right Mr Pig?

Fashion designer: No, fashion magazine. So, what are you wearing? Tell us.

Manny: Ah. Well, a… beautiful expensive blue suit.

Fashion designer:…

Fashion designer: Mr Money do you know anything about fashion?

Mysterious Lady: He doesn’t.

Manny: Ah! Hahahah! You got me! I suppose this old man knows more about kids toys.

Fashion designer: It seems he does, yes.

---

Manny then reveals that this is going to be his last party! But why? Oh well, it seems his mic is broken and can’t make his speech, so if you want to talk to him you might need to help him out with that. But before that, you have characters to talk to! Like a talking goat that just became a millionaire for winning last week’s lottery, a fun music band that is excited to play in a billionare’s party for the first time and both the fashioner designer and the fish characters!

---

> Magazine

Sam: This is a big party, a good opportunity for your magazine, right?

Fashion designer: Yeah I guess, but it’s all what I expect… I wish there was something interesting in this party this year…

Max: Like what? A robbery? Oooh or maybe someone stealing some celebrity’s jewelry, creating a big commotion!

Fashion designer: That’d be cool.

Max: We can make it happen if you ask us to!

Sam: Maybe later, Max.

Max: Ooooh what if there is a murder?!

Sam: Don’t scare the nice lady, Max. Forgive him, he’s always like this, so I’ll keep him away for a while-

Fashion designer: No, that’d be cool too! You know a bit gruesome, I would not want to see the body, but I’ve read a couple of mystery books lately so you know, it’d be a fun coincidence, I guess.

Max: Let’s cross our fingers and wish really really hard!

Fashion designer: Looking forward to it!

Sam: As long as it isn’t me, sure.

Both Max and Fashion designer, at the same time: Spoilsport.

> Manny Money

Sam: How much do you know about Manny Money?

Fashion designer: As much as anyone. He inherited his father’s toy company, the company was successful for years but lately it’s getting close to bankruptcy and for whatever reason Manny keeps making more and more toys, even if it will probably be his downfall. Really weird, but I do like the company’s mascot, it’s cute.

Sam: Well, we didn’t know any of that.

Fashion designer: ...

Max: Stop giving her perfect set-ups for insults, Sam

Fashion designer: It’s fine, I won’t say anything.

Max: To our faces.

Fashion designer: Yeah, you might not want to check my magazine this week.

----

> Life of a celebrity

Sam: How is it like being a celebrity?

Fish: Stressful.

Sam: Yeah, I guess most jobs are.

Fish: Most things are for me.

Sam: But it’s worth it if you have fame right?

Fish: Oh no, I don’t really like being famous.

Max: What? I always thought the main objective was fame! And the ability to be a complete jerk with no consequences!

Fish: Not me, I just really enjoy acting. And making fans happy is nice too… I’m not great at talking with fans but I’m not that good at talking to crowds in general. I’m just glad to inspire people or make them feel emotions with my performance.

Sam: That’s nice, kid.

Max: If I was famous I would ask my fans to make an altar of me and pray every night to give me enough power to become a god.

Fish: W… why?

Max: I need to have something to do after I retire!

Sam: See? It’s a good thing he’s not a celebrity.

Fish: Maybe.

---

You leave the room and ask Manny’s nephew to lend you his mic, but the kid won’t share. They both enter the kids area, and there are a bunch of kids really really bored. It seems like the entertainer is not here, apparently his suit burst into flames or something, so you feel kind of bad for the kids. Maybe you might be able to help each other. They ask you to bring them a bag of candy that is in the kitchen and they will help you with the toy car problem, they hate Manny’s nephew anyway.

When you go back to the hallway to take the elevator, suddenly you see Pig grumbling something to himself about Manny. Weird.

You make your way to the kitchen, there are a couple of NPCs here as well: a grumpy but passionate chef, a celebrity couple that really do not want anyone to know that they are dating (but they totally are), an influencer girl too busy with her phone to talk to you, a kind bartender man and a sad depressed horse. It seems like Mysterious Lady and Skull are here as well.

You try to enter the kitchen, but the chef is strict, if he thinks his food is not ready then it’s not ready, you don’t rush art! You might need to find a way to enter the kitchen without him noticing but how?

---

> We don’t care.

Sam: You’ve got it wrong, we didn’t mean to bother you or find out about your relationship

Celebrity man: W-what relationship?

Celebrity woman: Wait, you’re not paparazzis?

Sam: Huh? Why would you think that?

Celebrity woman: You keep interrogating people and picking random objects. That’s what paparazzis do.

Sam: No no, we’re detectives!

Max: And we’re nobodies! We have no one to tell gossip to. Except each other. Hey Sam, did you hear? These two might be a couple!

Sam: No way…

> So are you two together?

Sam: So are you really dating?

Celebrity man: *sigh* Yes, but it’s meant to be a secret. I’m sorry, honey…

Celebrity woman: It’s fine, I was nervous too, I would have probably panicked too!

Celebrity man: *gasp* Sweetie…

Celebrity woman: Honey…

Celebrity woman: Um… platonic honey!

Max: Platonic honey should be a thing.

----

> The chef

Sam: Do you know the chef personally?

Bartender: Yeah, you could say I do.

Sam: How much do you know?

Bartender: Well, I’m married to him.

Max: That doesn’t answer the question!

Bartender: I know plenty about him.

Max: That’s better!

Bartender: Why? What is he up to right now?

> Candy.

Sam: A bunch of kids have asked for the bag of candy in the kitchen, but your husband seems to have strict rules about the kitchen.

Bartender: Oh yes, he is extremely passionate about his culinary job. Which I find endearing, since I’m passionate about mixology.

Sam: I bet dinner time in your home must always be paradise

Bartender: I don’t like to brag. But yes.

Max: One time I tried to make Sam dinner and the food became sentient

Sam: I appreciated the gesture, little buddy.

---

Skull: Gah! You two!

Sam: You know us too?

Max: Wow, two guests in total! It’s a new record

Skull: What are you doing here?!

Sam: Well, technically we’re only here for a mission. But we should probably tell people that we’re just regular invited guests.

Skull: Ugh, unbelievable… Well… Even though we share a deep rivalry… For the sake of the guests and this party, we should postpone our personal missions with our destinies. For now, we are but strangers sharing a nice evening, but don’t believe this will last. For next day, we’ll be back from the very beginning.

Sam: … Huh?

Max: What’s your name again?

Skull: Hah. Very good, you’re already in character! Anyway, strangers, you’re bothering us, please leave.

Max: Wait, we haven’t said anything yet!

> Manny’s friends?

Sam: We don’t really know much but in some way you seem to know Manny.

Skull: Manny and I have met in plenty of occasions. We both have a large amount of wealth, we both have our own companies, … Things we have in common brought us together, so in a way, you could say we are friends. Although I prefer the term ‘business partners’. Our accompanies are completely unrelated from each other though, I just simply prefer the business title.

Sam: Fascinating. What about you, mam?

Mysterious Lady: …

Mysterious Lady: Yes, I know him.

Sam: …

Sam: Great, thanks.

---

You find out that the chef always gets distracted by a good performance, especially a singing performance. He appreciates other people’s art, but it has to be good! So now you have to find someone that can give a good performance, you start asking around, but you might need the help of the gossip lady to know whose celebrity here is really good at singing.

Sam and Max can perform a song together, it would be a silly optional minigame, but the chef is not impressed. You can also ask Skull to perform and he will read a chapter of his memoirs. It’s quite impressive to everyone except the chef.

---

Sam: That didn’t work at all.

Max: Well it certainly wasn’t for the lack of talent, I almost weep like a baby watching that!

Sam: Yeah, as overdramatic as he is, I feel like a different person after watching that.

Max: Me too! If I didn’t know I like men already, he would have definitely made me realize it!

Sam: I can see that.

Max: We should buy his book! Or at least wait for the movie adaptation!

---

You go talk to the gossip lady, she shares a couple of interesting information about the main celebrities of the story. You find out that the mysterious lady is a famous singer, so you go ask her to sing. She doesn’t seem to want to. But suddenly, all the lights start flickering and the floor starts trembling a little. But just in a couple of seconds, it stops. What was that? Everyone seem a little scared and suddenly the mysterious woman gets on stage and starts performing, to calm everyone down. The chef goes out, he seems to love the performance! Now it’s your chance, you take the candy and go back to give it to the kids. The kids are happy but still bored, so you get a little cute scene of Sam and Max playing with them. After that they all go right next to Manny’s nephew and the kids take his toy car and threw it off the window. Now he has no toy car to play with so you get the mic!

---

Nephew: My- my toy!!!!!

Kids: There you go!

Sam: We could have done that ourselves.

Max: No way, his uncle would have sued us.

Kids: Yeah! So you’re welcome!

Sam: Thanks kids, you are the true life of the party.

---

After that, the entertainer shows up, with another entertainer following. One of them seems to be extremely energetic, the other one is really tired. They give you a map of the mansion as a thanks for taking care of the kids while they were gone. Now it’s time to give Manny the mic!

… Then when you are back, a butler gives Manny a new mic. However, Manny noticed all the effort you did for him, so he wants to thank you! He offers you to go on stage with him for his big speech. And well… I’ll just let the script talk for this final part.

Manny: I wanted to give a speech with someone tonight, but alas, all my friends have left me… Why don’t you two join me instead?

Sam: Uum… are you sure? I mean, this is a pretty important event and you wouldn’t want Max to say something inappropriate that would disturb or disgust your guests.

Max: Yeah!

Manny: Just one of you two is fine, and I suppose you’re right, not all my guests have as good of a sense of humor as I do, hahah! Sam, right? I’d love to have you there with me!

Sam: Oh, I don’t do well with crowds…

Max: Come on, Sam, just imagine everyone naked or something.

Sam: I’m kind of used to that with you as my partner. Manny: Oh oh! It’s starting! Come on, Mr Sam!

Sam: Oh brother…

- All the guests gather in the party room, Sam and Manny are at the top of the stairs. Max is in the crowd and is soon joined by the Fashion Designer. -

Fashion Designer: Oh hey

Max: Hi!

Fashion Designer: You got that mic in the end?

Max: Yeah, but- eh, we shouldn’t have bothered. Sam just likes puzzles too much

Fashion Designer: …

Fashion Designer: Say, be honest…

Fashion Designer: Have you been on this mansion before?

Max: Huh? No, it’s the first time Sam and I have ever been here

Fashion Designer: Okay then, have you been here on your own?

Max: I don’t really go anywhere without Sam, so, no. Why?

Fashion Designer: …

Fashion Designer: I have a friend who thinks they saw you last year.

Max: Mmm… Oh! It was probably that rich guy that looks like me!

Fashion Designer: … I don’t think so.

Max: Um…

Fashion Designer: Sorry, I’m a reporter, I’m just curious about things.

Max: But you’re a fashion reporter.

Fashion Designer: Yeah, so?

Max: You ask strange questions, but I like you!

Manny: Good evening, everyone!

-We switch back to Manny and Sam.-

Manny: Thank you for coming once again to my annual party. Seeing all of this support is what motivates me to make each year better than the last!

-audience cheers-

Manny: This year I’m joined by a new friend, Sam!

Sam: Um… hi.

-audience remains silent-

Max, in the audience: Woooo!! That’s my best friend!!

Manny: Sam and his friend helped me, a complete rich stranger, in a time where I needed it, even when my closest friends were not there for me.

Pig: [Bleep] you, Manny.

Manny: Hahah! But back to my guest. Sam! How did you find the solution to the broken microphone?

Sam: We made a kid cry.

Audience: …

Max, in the audience: Just kidding! I don’t know this guy!

Sam: Mhm.

Manny: Ohohoho! Splendid! What a hilarious guy, right everyone?

-audience cheers-

Manny: But now I wanted to get serious for a second… Everyone, these events have always meant a lot to me. They have helped me through rough times, they have helped me disconnect from all my hard work. Lately it’s been especially difficult, you’ve probably heard some bad news about my toy business.

I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I for one, I’m not scared. Folks, it’s possible that this might be my last party, but not for this reason I want to end things on a sad note

This is not the end, but merely a new beginning.

-The audience gets emotional, some seem to be crying, probably fake tears but who cares. They all give a polite clap.-

Manny: So what do you say, everyone? Let’s have one last joyful party! And let’s find out together, what the next chapter of Manny Money’s life will be like!

-Suddenly, you hear a strange sound. Sam and Manny look up, but before Sam can react, Manny pushes Sam out of the way. Something has fallen from the ceiling. The screen turns to black.-

Max: Sam!

-Max makes his way to the top of the stairs-

Max: Are you okay?!

Sam: Yeah, I’m fine.

Max: Phew that’s good. Sam: But I don’t think Manny... Mr Money are you okay…?

-We see that Manny’s body is laying inert under a big chandelier lamp.-

Sam and Max: …

Max: Well… this is bad, right?

---

And that’d be the end of the demo!

-Conclusion

Hope you enjoyed reading this! This is a very fun project that I wish to continue someday, and I will! For now, let’s hope we get an actual real new Sam&Max game one of these days (that isn’t VR this time).

[shiraishi--kanade]

✦ New pinned post ✦

The old one got quite outdated, so it's about time I made a new one.

♪ I'm Jay! I also go by Ollie and Lu.

♪ any pronouns!

♪ My main is @jeiseny! I follow and like from there, but I prefer to interact on this blog.

♪ My back-up blog is @shiraishi-kanade. It was originally my only side-blog before being accidentally terminated by Tumbrl. Now it's just staying there, mostly inactive; however, I still intend to use it for long-form character analysis.

♪ I'm physically disabled. I'm also open to talk about it and my experience with it, specifically rheumatic heart disease and juvenile arthritis, but I am not obligated to prove my diagnosis to anyone.

♪ I'm dyslexic! If I suddenly don't make sense, that's why.

♪ This is a project sekai fan blog, on which I mostly write character analysis, especially focusing on Vivid Bad Squad in general and An Shiraishi specifically.

♪ I am also an occasional fanfic writer. My AO3 username is also Jeiseny!

♪ I'm currently working on two unit shuffle aus (on an indefinite hiatus, but by no means abandoned) and my mini-series Count To Five that is An Shiraishi-centric and takes place after Light Up the Fire. Feel free to check it out!

♪ I also have a side-blog for my pjsk fan unit Kawaakari Orchestra! They're a long standing passion project of mine. You can find them at @kawaakari-orchestra.

♪ I will sometimes post about other media I'm a fan of.

Additional info:

♪ Any interactions (e.g replies, reblogs, asks, dms) are fine and encouraged regardless of mutual status.

♪ I'm fine with tags and tag games (except picrew chains! I don't do those); however, please refrain from publically asking me to reblog anything pertaining to fan-content and especially character analysis. It makes me really uncomfortable (never thought I'd have to set a boundary like this but here we are).

♪ I visit the tags often and will usually reblog the takes I agree with naturally; being pushy about it because of me being a relatively big character analysis blog will only get you blocked.

♪ I love receiving asks about my opinion on pjsk characters and storylines! By all means, please send them to me. I take a while to answer sometimes because I take my sweet time to think about it.

♪ I am an VBS oshi & main, and I'm caught up with their stories at the moment of writing this. I also follow N25 closely and keep an eye out on WxS. All the favourites & fandom information from the old pinned post is still relevant!

♪ I'm open to discussion and correction on my posts, especially if it's about the characters I don't know well!

♪ On another hand, I'm not open to unsolicited criticism on my fanfiction. I do it for fun only.

♪ I'm touch-averse and neurodivergent. Please keep that in mind.

♪ I complain and vent a lot, especially about my disability and chronic pain. Block #jay rambles about life.txt tag if you're uncomfortable with that.

Tags:

#jay rambles.txt - general tag. Mostly about pjsk though

#jay rambles about life.txt - general tag for everything that is not about my interests. Doubles as a vent tag (because there's nothing to smile about in my life /ref)

#jay rambles about ocs.txt - me rambling about pjsk ocs, both my own and other's

#jay's archive.txt - old-ish character analysis posts or otherwise important things from a previously terminated blog; can also be found by similar tags on @shiraishi-kanade.

#jay gets asks - ask answered tag!

#jay's character analysis - self-explanatory

#jay's memes.png - I like to make funny images sometimes!

#jay's ocs & #jay's headcanons - self-explanatory

#rb - general rb tag.

#self rb - adding onto my own posts, mostly for my own self-organisation.

#other's character analysis - pjsk takes I love and agree with

#orher's art <3 - art rbs!

That is all! Nice to meet you!

[dividers by saradika-graphics]

[darkkitty1208]

The past few weeks before I finally returned from my unofficial hiatus, I've lost a lot of my motivation to write and anything to do with being part of the fandom as a whole. I contemplated quitting and never returning again, deleting all my works and socials and any other trace of me anyone could find, but I know that it's just the anxiety talking and my brain playing tricks with me due to IRL stress and that logically, I *do* have a place here in the fandom space. So I held back.

Now that I'm here again -- and have been welcomed very warmly by dear friends -- the urge to create has finally come around again and I want to get back into writing. It's just that, god, I feel very rusty. It's been quite a while and I feel like the words have run away from me after not using them for so long. I look into my mostly-abandoned WIPs and I can't find the right way to continue them.

But despite that, I decided to do a bit of the good ol' self-projecting and started a WIP (instead of finishing my old ones, lol). It's not much, but it's something. I felt compelled to share in hopes it would motivate me to write some more. This is all I've got so far, and it is admittedly very rough, but it's getting there.

~

Here’s the thing: healing isn't linear.

These are words repeated over and over again by those who you wouldn't think ever even had to heal. They're the kind of words that would lose its meaning the more they're said, and have you start wondering if to some people, they ever had any sort of meaning to begin with.

You can never really tell where it starts or where it finishes, or how it happened or if it ever did happen, the same way the flawed five stages of grief could never explain the true act of mourning and the same way your every emotion defies anything your logic could ever tell you.

Sometimes, Stephen finds, some things are just unexplainable like that.

Sometimes, Stephen doesn't think he's capable of healing. Sometimes, especially in nights where every bit of his sanity starts to fall apart and each choking breath would sting as it enters his damned lungs, he thinks he's too far gone to be capable of it at all.

(Sometimes he would sit silently and stare into nothing, thinking about the way nobody would understand that at some point in his life, he wasn't the man he used to be anymore. Sometimes he could feel it, the thing that consumed him, that took away who he was, and the way it would take up every space in his ribcage and burn his insides like acid, the way it would rip apart the space in his chest where his heart used to be. Sometimes he would think about it, and the way that it makes him nothing but an empty shell of a man. Every day that thing would grow inside of him and one day, it might ruin him; as if he isn't already far too broken to begin with.)

But it's here, in the roof of a sentient building he's grown to call his home where various pots are neatly arranged in small shelves, with his trembling fingers digging into rich soil and dirt sticking underneath his fingernails, that he starts to find proof that maybe, he had the capability after all.

It's here that he understands why humans would pick up a trowel and spend so much time getting on their hands and knees to dirty themselves with grimes of dirt.

There's something about the green of the Earth and the smell of her moist dirt in the early mornings, damp from the moon's tears, that soothes a part of him that he couldn't quite identify. There's something comforting about the mindless action of digging and burying and placing and watering. There's something comforting about knowing that his damaged fingers could sprout life even if it all depended on time.

But that's the thing, isn't it? Everything is just a matter of time.

(Sometimes he wishes healing isn't linear, the way he wishes time doesn't march on an ascending line.)

He remembers the same damp smell of moss and the same smudges of dirt on the knees of his trousers back then, the first time he was taught about gardening and farming and sprouting life from seeds.

He had still been a small boy in Nebraska, back then. He had been young, and he had never understood patience the way he does now. He didn't understand that what he planted was something that, if anything, was considered a miracle, and that miracles took time, and that miracles don't last forever. He didn't understand that life and decay is just a matter of time, and that everything including himself would eventually be nothing but rotting flesh and cracked bones, becoming one with the earth and consumed by the maggots and mushrooms.

Because that's the thing: everything is just a matter of time.

The experience had meant nothing to him then, and had taught him nothing much of anything at all, but it means something to him now.

[natolesims]

LIFE UPDATE

I know I've been back only for a couple of months but look who's gonna kinda disappear once again 🫥

This simblr is my happy place and that's the main reason I don't really talk about personal stuff in here, but it is important to me that you know what's going on instead of just sublimating once again, so here it goes:

(It's very long. You've been warned)

Some of you know about my terrible work experience from last year. I won't dive into that, but it was a big deal for me because I was working there to finally get my university degree. I graduated the year before the pandemic, but I was halfway writing my thesis to finally have my "study certificate" and degree. The abusive boss I had was, in fact, involved in my thesis as a co-director (not related to my school) and I was working with the collection I had to analyze to finish my investigation. She convinced me to work for her promising me (and even others) I could finally tie loose ends in my research while being in there (what was precisely what I was looking for), but things turned heavily wrong in record speed.

In the end, I had to quit the job and abandon my thesis to prioritise my well-being. And having to throw away the work of more of 4 years full with lots of hope and hard work was a really big hit for me. I also became unemployed and even lost half of my savings going to that place (because they weren't paying me). No wonder I got depressed. I'm better now! Eh, sometimes. I'm taking baby steps.

BUT of course I went to my school and said what happened. I'm lucky all the teachers that listened to me were willing to help and the first weeks of January I requested the approval of a new method of getting the degree: writing a scientific paper. Welp, guess who got green light this week 🎉

The issue here is that I only have until July (tops) to present the article. It's nothing I've never done before... But I'm still scared and a bit rusty, not gonna lie. But I'm sick of not being able to get that stupid degree so I'm focusing all my energy on that. And that's exactly why we're going on a mild hiatus!

I don't want the story gameplays become something that haunt me in my dreams because of pressure and stress, so I think it's better I take a step back and wait. Sort my things out, enjoy the process while doing so. As I've said several times before: the little corner of simblr I'm in amazes me, makes me feel great and safe, I truly enjoy everything you make (even if I become some sort of lurker sometimes), and I'm very fond and grateful for the friends and acquaintances I've made so far, so I'm not leaving. @dustbon will still be up and posting, since it's a blog that doesn't require lots of work and shows how I'm destressing with the game :B I'll just become more of a reader the next months.

But yeah, that's about it. I'm sorry for the really brief return, but I'm holding onto this new opportunity for dear life. I hope you can understand. Whish me luck!

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Advice for new writers? Common pitfalls?

As in fandom writers? I’m going with that because I’m still an unpublished writer so I don’t think I’m qualified to speak to that.

For new fandom writers, my biggest piece of advice would be to lower your expectations of both yourself and your fandom.

Don’t be too hard on yourself. Easier said than done, I know, but most new writers aren’t going to produce sweeping, complex, meaningful 200k+ epics right out of the gate. Writing is a skill, just like any other, and that means it requires practice. The beauty of fanfic is that there are readers out there who will absolutely devour your early works, whether or not you think it’s garbage or “not good enough.” You’re not gonna win the Pulitzer with fanfic, so lower the expectations and try to enjoy the experience.

Finish something. A 100 word drabble or a 5000 word ficlet. If you can, finish something. That rush of “oh! New idea!” Is heady, but the crushing self doubt when you’ve got 50 first chapters and nothing marked complete is just as powerful.

This one’s almost impossible: If you are prepared for nobody to interact with your fic, then it’ll be a pleasant surprise when they do. Readers will scroll by your work for a million and one reasons. Sometimes they’re just not in the mood to read at the moment and when they are, they’ve forgotten they saw it. Sometimes you posted when the largest chunk of readers for that fandom are asleep and by the time they’re awake and looking for something to read, your work is buried under other updates. Sometimes they just didn’t see it because as a new writer you maybe haven’t gotten a lot of exposure and reach. Readers come to fanfic as a kind of comfort read. We’re familiar with the characters or world so we can dive right in, but also… that leads to readers who have favorite writers whom they trust to handle the characters or they know they’ve got a good chance of enjoying the story. Readers in older fandoms tend to be comfortable with established writers and less comfortable trying new writers.

That’s an unfortunate issue new writers might have to face, and it tends to be more pronounced in older fandoms where people have built lists of “classic works” and they’ve watched cycles of writers coming and going, leaving works seemingly abandoned or on a long hiatus.

So maybe have patience with the readers too and try to understand where they’re coming from.

Standard advice applies: write for yourself. Write what brings you joy because you’ll just be miserable if you write for someone else.

It’s not about the numbers or the notes. If your only goal is to get the kudos and comments etc, then you’re going to be miserable at some point. But also, it’s really hard to not be affected by low interaction, so be ready for that. It sucks to feel like you’re pouring your heart and soul into this writing thing and then get little to no response. Because part of the fanfiction writer experience is the interaction with the readers. If someone doesn’t want that interaction, they’d write but never share.

So note to the readers: it kinda is about the interaction. No fanfic writer posts hoping that no one will comment and they’ll be left feeling like they’re just shouting into an empty void.

Not sure if this is what you’re looking for, Anon, but I hope that helps.

❤️ kdnfb

[dxmichelle]

Nothing quite so disheartening as seeing new comment notifications from Fanfiction.net during a writer's block hiatus and it's just someone soliciting for art commissions.

Sorry but spamming the same comment all over my account is not going to make me want to look at your work and start a collab.

That's the only thing I've gotten from that site in a long time. I was crossposting my ongoing work (since it started there before I migrated to AO3) and I didn't want to abandon it for the readers I still had but this is really not very encouraging.

Does anyone actually get legit readership on their FF.net stuff anymore or is it all a bunch of canned messages from either bots or people bombarding their reviews and DMs for money?

[cloudsofbespin]

I’m excited for what they are going to do with Devil’s Minion as well. As long as they don’t make it boring I’m sure it will be good. Boring for me would be if they don’t do anything with San Francisco/their messed-up first meeting and instead ignore it by having Daniel just be over it, and/or have Armand and Daniel simply have a hate-love thing. I like (love!) enemies-to-lovers, but there’s a lot of bad versions of it which don’t work cause it’s not actually written as love it’s written as lust and simple attraction. There needs to be some actual romance and depth to it, then I’ll be fully into it!

They have such a good opportunity as well, with Daniel and Armand being screwed up in different but somewhat similar ways. Nothing compares to the horrors of Armand’s past, but they do have in common an unwillingness (and inability) to be fully emotionally open and honest - and given that they are now literally bonded together and exposed to each other (Madeleine being able to read Louis’ emotions comes to mind) I do really want them to do something with that. There’s something great with them both being unable to hide from each other! And them both being uniquely able to call out each other's bs could be something really compelling and funny to see!

I do love Daniel’s words about truly seeing Armand as the monstrous vampire (insect analogy) he is and fully loving and accepting the whole of him in the book. So I hope we’ll see that - or a good and compelling version of it! However, I do need there to be something about Daniel too. Otherwise he will just feel like a tool to aid in Armand’s character development, rather than his own person and the romance of it all would just be one-sidedly about Armand. There obviously needs to be more to it than Daniel loving monstrous complex enigmas like Armand and Armand finding him fascinating because of it. You know what I mean?

I’m carefully hopeful, feels like Daniel having been somewhat closeted and a failure at marriages is something they could use to give him an emotional arc, as well as being a new (abandoned?) vampire. Though he doesn't seem to struggle much with the latter. In Armand’s case I can see several ways of doing an interesting emotional arc for him.

What do you want to see? Big and small? What are some story and/or emotional beats you'd like to see? Also, thank you for being a fun blog to follow during these dark (hiatus) times :)

hi! i love your analysis and all the points you bring up ❤️

simply put i want them to fall in love and i want them to love each other for who and what they are. that's their deal in the books and should be their deal in the show too

obviously the vampire bond is going to play a massive role because well they are bonded forever now and as you said (and as the show established) they should be able to feel each other's emotions even though they can't read the other's mind. there's also my personal favourite detail of them having the same/similarly coloured eyes and the significance of armand looking into daniel's eyes and seeing his own reflection staring back. another aspect of the bond that makes me insane is that they're probably going to be hella possessive of each other now and i can't wait how that's going to manifest

but yeah i def do not want the vampire bond to be the only reason for their connection. because again armand should love daniel for daniel and daniel should love armand for armand. i want them to go on an intense emotional journey together and as you mentioned daniel shouldn't be just a vessel for armand's character development

book!armand describes daniel as "strangely defiant and beseeching in the same breath" and to me show!daniel fits that description as well. they can challenge each other. i feel like armand's been somehow intrigued by daniel ever since san francisco (but that does not necessarily mean they had a relationship back then)

i'm being a total sap right now but somewhere along the way i want daniel to say i love you to armand and mean it. armand should experience what it means to be fully loved in return

also i've gone through various stages of crazy since the s2 finale because as it stands now we truly have no idea what actually happened and what is going to happen with the two of them. all we know is that armand turned daniel and now daniel's been asking (looking?) for him. what the hell happened in dubai? did armand bolt as soon as he turned daniel? does daniel miss him? is he going to look for him? please rolin put me out of my misery

[storytowrite]

|I think I miss you part 2 ~ Lee Felix|

|part 1|

______________________________________________________________

Theme: fluff

Word Count: 937

Warnings: none

Summary: After a breakup with Felix Y/N finds out that he went on a hiatus. She feels guilty so she decides to meet with him.

______________________________________________________________

You were waiting for his reaction looking at the phone. You felt nervous.  Didn’t know what his reply would be if he decided to answer. After all it was you, who had ended things between the two of you. You thought that it would be better, but didn’t expect that he would eventually go on hiatus. 

You felt terrible and anxious. Will he reply? Did he read? Does he still have your phone number? Maybe he’d blocked you? You were asking yourself. From minute to minute you felt more and more uneasy. Finally the sound of the message took you out of your thoughts. So he did have your number and he did not block you. You smiled a little but still were nervous.

Felix: You think though? What do you want? 

You: Can we talk? Please… 

Felix: We have nothing to talk about…   

You: But Lixie please… It’s important

Felix: Stop calling me that, you’ve lost your privilege. You have 15  minutes. Meet me at our place like now.  

You would have lied if you didn’t admit to yourself that you were a little thrilled. After two months of not seeing him or spending time with him, finally you were going to meet him. Also you were nervous. He was mad at you. And you couldn’t blame him. 

You put on an oversized leather jacket that Felix had bought you at the beginning of your relationship and some shoes and went out of your apartment. All the way to the place of the meeting you felt uneasy. What were you going to say? What would be his reaction? Is it a good idea? Your thoughts were driving you crazy.

In 10 minutes you were at YOUR place. The place was an old abandoned playground you had your first date at. Strong memories hit you hard. 

‘Hey sweetheart. I’m sorry I made you wait.’ His breath was short so he must have been running to you. ‘I hope you don’t wait that long for me?’

‘Naah, not at all.. I’ve just arrived… But Lixie, why are we here late at night?’ You took a look around. The area was a little too forested. The playground was old and hadn't been used for a long time. For some people the scenery might have looked like a pretty decent horror movie. 

‘You said that you wanted to see the shooting stars. So… I found the perfect place for a night picnic.’ He said entering the playground area.

In the middle of it there was a huge blanket with a picnic basket. Candles were placed around the blanket giving the sensual atmosphere. You smiled to yourself glad that he had remembered what you said before. 

‘Thank you Lixie.’ You put a small kiss on his cheekbone. ‘It’s beautiful.’ 

‘I wanted to make it special… you know, just for you.’ He answered, smiling softly. It was a beautiful night you had spent together. 

You have arrived at the agreed place ahead of time. You sat at the old swing waiting for him. Just when you wanted to text him telling him that you were waiting he had arrived. 

‘Lixie.’ You said first. ‘How have you been?’

‘Really Y/N? That’s all what you wanna know? How have I been?’ He asked angrily. 

‘I-uhm… I’ve heard that you went on a hiatus. Just wanted to make sure that…’

‘That it’s not your fault? Oh please. You know what you did to me… I just needed a break from all of it.’ 

‘I’m sorry Lixie… I didn’t know that my decision would cause your hiatus.’ You sent him an apologetic look. 

‘Mhm yeah, of course you didn’t… Can you at least tell me the real reason? Because I’ve been thinking about that and you know what? I don’t fucking believe that you ended things between us because of lack of the time.’ He answered looking back at you. You sighed heavily. 

‘I’m sorry Felix… I had to. My parents pushed me to do that. They said that I cannot date an idol. My dad wants me to marry one of his investor’s sons… I didn’t want to hurt you so I told you that not having time was the reason. I really am sorry.’ You said sadly. It was the truth though. Your father has been planning an arranged marriage for such a long time. 

‘Oh Y/N.’ He looked at you with a little smile. ‘I know about that you know?’ 

‘What?’ You blinked twice looking at him. ‘How do you know that?’ 

‘Because that investor’s son is me, sweetheart. I was going to tell you that on our date that you had canceled.’ 

‘But… So I… And..’ You were too stunned to speak. 

‘Yes baby.’ He said laughingly. ‘You had ended things between us before I could tell you the news. I was planning to though…’

‘Oh…’ You felt incredibly stupid and guilty. You looked down at your feet not able to raise your eyes to look at him.

‘Yeah… Oh…’ He replied, looking at you. ‘Sweetheart, look at me please.’ He put a finger at your chin and pulled it up gently so you had to look at him. ‘I still love you, you know?’

‘But after what I did and…’

‘That doesn’t matter.’ He whispered into your ear and put a soft kiss on your forehead. ‘Do you love me’

‘Yes, yes I do…’ you said bravely. It was true though. You did love him. 

‘That’s good, because from now on, I’m not going to leave you ever in this life.’ He said and then he kissed you passionately.

______________________________________________________________

masterlist

[maiden-of-sea]

Why I Still Haven't Return to This Blog (Please Read)

So within so many, MANY catching things up upon School, I have a confusion that I wanna make...

For the Past Years that I've barely had anything to do with this blog, part of Me feels like that I don't really want to run with it anymore as for some reason there is this Big Gripe for Me that slowly makes Me fully regret creating this blog all because of some semi-unhealthy obsession that I've had with one of my fandoms.

For the past years, I've used to be totally obsessed with the King Neptune/Poseidon character (I know they're separate characters, but giving on how that they're the still same outside) & for some random reason that felt like a huge waste wanting Me to run a Blog on its own (inspired to those who have their own Single Fandom Blogs like some fans do in the SB Fandom).

But now, I've come to the conclusion and realize on how much that I didn't need a Third Blog (considering on how both of my art and posts of my Main Blog are already full-filled with so many of my personal main fandom posts, it's downright INSANE).

The only reason as to why my brain in the first place thought of wanting to have such an unnecessary blog is partially because was inspired by other people who had their own single fandom blogs (like with most people on their Greek Myth blogs for instance). But honestly, due to the fact that I am very indeed afraid of wanting to delete it (which would cause the deletion of My Main Blogs with all of the other works that I've wanted to show), I've just realize my own huge mistake that I felt didn't need on what had to be done all because of a single obsession that I've recently just grew out of it for very mature reasons.

You see, I only made the blog for a very strange reason was because it was one of my surroundings in the beginnings of the SB Fandom when I came here. (As I've said before), I was completely obsessed with the King Neptune/Poseidon character and while I did paid any attention to the Main Cast like I would always do, I felt like my main interest was only a target towards the cast's obscure characters (which I blame for my own pure love for obscurity) and nothing else which is such a shame to Myself as I feel rather disappointed in what I've committed, but I can clearly see why on how everyone else wouldn't tend to see it since I was always a bit calm during a join in the fanbase. Now, when I say, "Disappointed", I meant on how that I couldn't afford to focus much on the Non-Merfolk characters more often as I feel as if though that I could've had the chance to study if it weren't for my own Big Merfolk brain rot.

Now, for the record, I am NOT saying that I am giving up on my Most Favorite Characters at this point since every any character is dedicated to their own fanbase, but honestly, for awhile, I've still been thinking if whether or not I should either just change or at least abandoned this blog but I defiantly have been thinking to restart it or at least perhaps have it a new fresh change.

For the Second Option part, if I were to re-do this Third Blog, I'd probably would make it an Ask Blog but I'd still have it around my Main Fandom's theme at this point.

It's just that for some time, I've mostly and mainly been focusing around my Main Blogs to point where I have no one else to do with this one and re-blogging some of my SB Art/Reblogs from my Main One into this One to fit this Blog's Main Aesthetic is often kinda hard to do (especially on how long given the Hiatus is) but for the most part, wishing my own self that I would want to return to this Blog would be Wonderful but I would prefer to want to make a change to it somehow just so that perhaps that maybe I would want to do with it whatever I'd want, but maybe not as an Polacia blog since I've been thinking about wanting to do something else for awhile if I'm going have to re-design My Greco-Roman Gods anytime soon when I feel like it (just to perhaps if maybe I were to keep this Blog's Main Theme that I chose alive).

I know that the idea of "Deleting" (Getting Rid) of ALL of the stuff that you've full-filled within a certain theme of a blog will take forever but honestly, I just don't know to the point where I feel as if though that I am indeed incredibly lost within my mind, especially when you are not in the same mood as you used too anymore. I just feel as if though that time changes real quick.

Recently, I've been focusing on drawing out ideas for my Original Stories (as well as drawing out some personal character designs) since this Whole SpongeBob-Fandom break has really given Me some relaxing time and I've already got out of School as I did graduate recently.

Considering the fact that I can't get rid of my Third Blog, I might as either consider to either continue run it or reboot it (if I'm going to start something different for it). I still haven't re-worked my own personal Redesigns in the moment but recently, I've been re-joining my Old Fandoms through a blast within the past.

So in case if I do return to this blog anytime once my SB Fandom break is over (as far as I have been trying), I'll probably give my a Third Blog a second chance. If not, I'll probably either abandon it. But I see on how time will tell if Fishes from the Sea sent by their own God will tell Me (aka if my Mind brainstorms once again).

Granted, I still and always will love Poseidon no matter what, just not in a crazy way that I did when I made this account and even when I somehow regret making it, since I felt very scared that I knew I was going to be in a Different Fandom mood.

I'll probably make my own decision to return one day if my SpongeBob hyper-fixation comes back to Me. Right now, I'm going through a Different Fandom Phase as I will be more active on my Main Blogs (@the-indie-owl and my Art Blog; @marine-indie-gal).

Hope you guys understand.