#the actor keeps changing his name too so this isn't making things any easier

[aikainkauna]

Tumblr, I am disappoint. A couple of years ago a sizeable chunk of you history nerds were nuts for The Longest Day in Chang'an and now, when I finally managed to finish it (it was AWESOME; one of the best shows I've ever seen, full stop) I come online and find

A) WHY DID NOBODY WARN ME ABOUT GENERAL GAN SHOUCHENG and

B) WHERE IS ALL THE THIRSTY GENERAL GAN CONTENT?! Now, I know that cdrama fandom is pretty chaste and that in much of Asia, perving is something you keep private and I can respect that. Ok. Cultural differences, I'm cool with that. I'll keep the lewdz to my Pillowfort.

But still! Look at him! A hot baddie with stupendous amounts of guyliner and a carefully coiffed Beard of Evil, he gets a scene like this, and there's no chaste and ladylike swooning or oohing or aahing, even?!?!

[ask-house-of-suns-au]

Some Fun headcanon facts about Dark Sun.

- He is just a 'normal' Sun.

- He also looks just like a normal Sun, just extra coats and extra ribbons.

- His left eye is horrible because it is where he upgraded his intelligence the first time (It was an excruciating experience.) and that also partly the reason why he wears glasses.

- There is not a single thought not related to murder inside his eyes.

- He is the Batman. People think Dark Sun's intelligence is the most dangerous part of him but actually it is Dark Sun's preparation. He not only has tons of backup plans and plans, but also, he knows people. He knows even if he is the smartest, someone will be smarter than him, have luck on their side better than him.

- He has a bad habit of hiding one of his hands behind his back, just in case something goes bad.

- He loves to pretend he is just a weak dumb Sun to fool Eclipse and Abused Moon, and stab right on their back when they lowered their guard.

- There is nothing more satisfying to him (he will not be admitted to it) more than seeing Eclipse or Moon or everyone has hurt him and variant of Sun begging at their knees because they had failed and they were wrong.

- He doesn't actually hate Servant. He just hates things that get out of his plans, and seeing Servant refuses to die while back then succumbing to Lord Eclipse makes he feel a little bit angry, even though he knows Servant didn't have any choices.

He secretly pitied Servant but also he thinks there is no point of fixing them and it is better if they just die. Rather than living like an almalgamon of Eclipse and Sun. A husk of someone has been gone for so long.

- He used to have a really complicated relationship with Sundrop but then they split up and agreed to never have a word about it never again.

- He can change his eyes colour, from white pearl to red because he usually robbed from Moons and it is easier to let them mistake him as their Sun. (it is also easier to kill them.)

- He and Sun have the same way of dealing with people who don't listen or just simply being idiot. He will ask them if they know where they went wrong and make them admit their mistakes. If Sun only does this when he is angry or when they have crossed the line, then Dark Sun does it a lot because he likes the way he makes people feel like they are stupid.

- He is a sadistic person. Not only does he want people he hates to kneel down to him in pain, he also wants to look at their eyes and see how much they hate him but couldn't do anything because they are stuck inside his palm.

- He sucks at playing games. He is also a salty loser, which makes him never play the game he loses ever again.

- He is actually a decent person when he isn't scheming or planning about everything.

- He thinks of SunBOT as a kid he never wants but still has. Having said that, never let SunBOT and Dark Sun alone together unless you want to see something for shit uncontrollably.

- He likes dolls, puppies and everything soft. The reason why he wears his jacket is because he wants something soft and warm to cover him and also he likes being cute. (Secretly)

- He has a very long long name for his dragon before changing it back to some nickname that is shorter than Sun's relationship.

- He likes wine, the expensive one. His hobby when he didn't think about how to fuck over Moon's life is just sitting around his Dragon and petting it while reading a book.

- He is a very good actor, he and Cringe Sun. Sun is the third place, and Sunny is the fourth.

- He is lonely. And he is terrified of what he did might be wrong but he just keeps going forward and never looks back.

- He still has nightmares and hallucinations but he never lets it affect him.

- Sometime he will be too much unhinged even for himself, especially around Sun or Servant. Which makes him have to go isolate himself for a while before getting back to normal unhinged.

- He doesn't want to hurt people who didn't deserve it but he will not hesitate to put some lessons for them to not fuck with him anymore.

- He likes cooking, but his cooking is terrible.

[a-room-of-my-own]

By Julian Vigo

Hans Christian Andersen’s The Emperor's New Clothes tells the tale of a ruler who is unconcerned with the reigning of his kingdom—he did not care much about attending the theatre nor making any public appearances unless, of course, he was able to flaunt his latest clothes. That is until one day when two swindlers came to town and tricked the emperor successfully convincing him that they were weavers who could spin him the most beautiful cloth he had ever before seen in his life. These swindlers claimed, “Not only were the colours and the patterns of their material extraordinarily beautiful, but the cloth had the strange quality of being invisible to anyone who was unfit for his office or unforgivably stupid.” It was perfect, of course, for the emperor whose intelligence would not only allow him to see quite perfectly the beauty of the cloth before him but which would also allow him to choose his councillors wisely as he would discard any of them who were unable to perceive the magnificent beauty before their eyes. 

The emperor then bought these fraudsters the most expensive materials of silk and gold and a loom with which to make the clothes. The swindlers kept the materials for themselves and pretended to make the garments from the empty loom. First, the emperor sent his faithful prime minister to check up on the “weavers” who doubted his eyesight as he found an empty loom. He thought to himself, “Am I stupid?” wondering if he was fit for his office. In a choice between his trust of his eyesight or his desire to keep his position, the prime minister quickly came around stating, “It is beautiful. It is very lovely...What patterns! What colours! I shall tell the emperor that I am greatly pleased.” And each of the councillors the emperor sent thereafter had a similar reaction—at first doubting their sanity and then realising that if they did not concede the beauty of the cloth being spun that they risked losing their position. Soon, all those close to the emperor had announced their sighting of a magnificent cloth that in fact was non-existent.

When it finally came time for the emperor to view the completed cloth, the fraudsters and everyone around the emperor informed him how beautiful the cloth was. The prime minister exclaims, “Isn't it magnifique?” However, the emperor had a similar crisis to that of all those he had sent before to check up on the cloth: he saw nothing. He thought to himself, “I can't see a thing! Why this is a disaster! Am I stupid? Am I unfit to be emperor? Oh, it is too horrible!” However, like his officials who realised that their credibility and good-judgment lay in the balance, the emperor capitulates to his officials’ claims and announced the glorious artistry of a cloth that did not, in fact, exist at all. “It is lovely,” exclaims the emperor. After paying the thieves handsomely for their good work, the emperor decides to have the cloth cut and sewn and, in celebration of his new clothes, he has a parade. As he marches down the streets in sheer nudity, everyone in the kingdom is awed by the beauty of his clothes and shares in his delight and belief of the lie. That is until a young child sees that the emperor isn’t wearing any clothes at all and the rest of the kingdom slowly begins to realise the same.

This well-known fairy tale serves as an allegory for political ideology that a government can impose upon its citizens, that a well-funded interest group can as well—that of false consciousness. In his essay,The Power of the Powerless (1978), Václav Havel explores what he calls the post-totalitarian regime in Czechoslovakia wherein he reveals an ideology of false consciousness that is strikingly similar to the political consciousness of Andersen’s fairy tale. Havel uses the analogy of a greengrocer who displays in his storefront window the party slogan which reads “Workers of the World, Unite!” Just as the emperor's clothes are a production of artistic sleight of hand and cunning trickery, for Havel so too is the party literature, the slogan of the green grocer. The manoeuvre of an invisible cloth or a state-mandated slogan in both cases becomes the vehicle through which ideology surfaces and inscribes itself upon the masses whereby, as Havel writes, the citizens “confirm the system, fulfil the system, make the system, are the system.”

Havel’s essay is quite critical of political ideology calling it an “almost secularised religion” which maintains its force by offering the wandering masses a “home” that immediately grants the believer a life full of new meaning:

Ideology is a specious way of relating to the world. It offers human beings the illusion of an identity, of dignity, and of morality while making it easier for them to part with them. As the repository of something suprapersonal and objective, it enables people to deceive their conscience and conceal their true position and their inglorious modus vivendi, both from the world and from themselves. It is a very pragmatic but, at the same time, an apparently dignified way of legitimising what is above, below, and on either side. 

Havel goes on to assert that ideology feeds a systemic drive that creates a “world of appearances trying to pass for reality” where the post-totalitarian system “touches people at every step, but it does so with its ideological gloves on.” 

Havel’s essay is not only a damning summation of the ideological rituals common within Czechoslovakia, Poland and other Communist regimes of the era, but it eerily portrays much of what is happening in the west today fifty years later. With samizdat, a form of dissident activity across the former Eastern bloc nations long ago retired, we have laid witness in recent years to its unofficial rebirth among many critics of gender ideology. For those who have pushed back against the onslaught of gender ideology that has permeated the neoliberal left over the past twenty years, many critics of this era’s embrace of identity politics who refuse to be silenced have either taken to social media or they have published blog posts under assumed names. Due to the mounting authoritarianism from the left on this subject whereby individuals have faced losing income, being fired from their positions entirely, or being socially and politically ostracised, the protest to the official narratives of gender ideology has been emanating from unofficial spaces. 

Twitter and Facebook have been the two primary social media spaces where feminists and trans ideologues alike have created secret groups in an attempt to strategise, dialogue, and establish actions. It would be an understatement to state that the wave has not only turned in the favour of these feminists, but COVID-19 has assisted the many who previously doubted the importance of material reality, to understand the difference between identity as feeling and the somatic reality of male versus female, a virus versus a unicorn. I have been in many of the gender-critical groups that are composed of only women, only radical feminists, only leftists, and myriad other variations on a theme. Where women and men from the left have joined forces to fight what they perceive as an ideological backwater of men’s rights activism, this fourth wave of feminism has teeth and it is speaking clearly to what resoundingly appears to be a religious ideology of gender.

Now that the NHS and the BBC have radically transformed their websites in recent weeks to update the information on gender dysphoria to include mentioning childhood desistance and ROGD (rapid-onset gender dysphoria), there is now a mass wiping of servers of these and other institutions of all references to Mermaids, a UK-based lobby group and NGO that has long identified its constituency as “transgender children” and their parents. And Mermaids is no outlier in the industry that seeks the expansion of childhood medical “gender transition” as it has consistently encouraged policy changes within the British government and its agencies to effect the quickest possible transition times of the highest number of children with the fewest safeguards in place. In 2018, Mermaids received £500,000 in lottery funding to this end.

So how is it that in less than two years, Mermaids has gone from being the star charity ostensibly championing the rights of children to now being silently removed from the BBC and NHS websites in their information and support sections as all the claims that puberty blockers such as Lupron are “reversible” have also disappeared? More importantly, why is it now commonplace in recent weeks that the media and public figures as well as private and public institutions have in stealth removed mention of Mermaids and the cheerleading of “childhood transition” from their accounts or servers as if a damnatio memoriae rivalling China’s removal of Zhao Ziyang from most every public record available in China?

Last year British actor, Jameela Jamil, participated in a video in support of both sic “trans kids” and Mermaids. Yet, in the same time frame that the NHS and BBC servers were wiped clean of any reference to Mermaids with data amended that exaggerated suicide information or that omitted childhood desistance, Jamil has curiously wiped clean her many Twitter posts referring to Mermaids. While Jamil claims she deleted her history to “become a more activism focused account that I can lend to other activists and charities,” many activists have answered Jamil on Twitter noting the non-coincidence of her and British comedian Josie Long having both dumped their Twitter feed within hours of one another, to include the many tweets in support of both Mermaids and the lifetime medicalisation of mostly gay and lesbian children’s bodies. 

On the other side of this debate, you have trans activists like Katy Montgomerie who are soliciting screenshots of gender-critical people who have “bought this latest Mermaids conspiracy theory” as he calls it. One of the tweets sent to Montgomerie as “proof” of wrong-think was that of fellow-writer, Suzanne Moore, who tweeted this past week: “I see all you celebs deleting your tweets that supported the charity Mermaids? Wonder why you are doing that.” Now that Montgomerie is invested in collecting evidence of women’s words on social media (as if their clearly visible tweets were not enough), the pushback to gender-critical voices has become patently absurd, especially since feminists have been pointing out the sexism and homophobia inherent within transgender ideology for years. Next up, Montgomerie or another trans-identified male will claim that gender critics are right-wing, religious bigots because they questioned the sexism and homophobia of Mermaids which in turn made it impossible for them to question the sexism and homophobia of Mermaids. This is pretty much the cycle these online debates take in the vein of “on the wrong side of history” debates that pervade social media.

Content aside, what should trouble us all is that media of public and private institutions and individuals on social media is being scrubbed of history. As Havel’s essay shows us that the greengrocer’s shop slogan is divorced from what the slogan actually says, the true meaning of the social act of proclaiming allegiance to an ideology is quite clear and comprehensible because the code is so familiar: 

The greengrocer declares his loyalty (and he can do no other if his declaration is to be accepted) in the only way the regime is capable of hearing; that is, by accepting the prescribed ritual, by accepting appearances as reality, by accepting the given rules of the game. In doing so, however, he has himself become a player in the game, thus making it possible for the game to go on, for it to exist in the first place.

Today, here we are in the midst of a tide-turning moment where transgender ideology is being rejected en masse by gay and straight people, men and women alike. Meanwhile, the public institutions which have for years codified the social signs, sponsored the "gender identity" training, crafted the woke lessons transmitted by the BBC and the NHS permeating all arenas of media and public health, in addition to the cast of Harry Potter chiming in with their endless support for “trans people” through Twitter and other media outlets, and we have been handed the perfect storm exemplifying exactly how we got here in the first place. Of course, political ideology is a powerful tool when it leaves no oxygen in the room for anything else. Such an authoritarian narrative creates the subterfuge to the very ideology all these bodies and individuals espouse. 

For those like British journalist Owen Jones who declared in 2015 that all critics of transgender ideology were on “the wrong side of history,” we must be more circumspect in how we approach ideologues who ought to be covering the news instead of participating in it. While gender has wider implications beyond its very narrow media representation, the political backwater of how the media influences public policy, politics and even law is unparalleled today. We need to learn from Havel’s historical example of what happens when we allow ourselves to become the greengrocer who unthinkingly parrots slogans that have neither any base in reason nor any resonance within our society. The repression of artists, poets, thinkers and politicians in the former Eastern bloc countries has been well documented. So too have the attempts to purge antagonistic articulations about gender from the “party line” been noted in recent years across various anglophone countries.

Now that the gender narrative is falling apart quickly, many of its proponents are running for cover skipping over to the very side they previously denounced as “wrong.” Of course, these individuals will happily prefer their slogans be forgotten, to have their tweets removed and their websites altered from public record. “All traces of totalitarian influence, dissidents confirm, define, adopt, and integrate the methods of totalitarianism within their own structure building their 'truth' on its negation,” Havel reminds us.

Let’s now remind these political actors of the dangers that occur when espousing ideological hogwash as human rights. More importantly, let us now learn from this lesson of this dangerous era of public tyranny and return to the drawing board to continue that discussion about historical materialism and its significance today

[unreone]

Aren't You Glad to Have a Boyfriend Like Me?

PROMPT: SERIAL KILLER

Time Taken: 42 hrs 14 min (on/off)

Program Used: IBis Paint

Word Count: 4133

♥~♥~♥~♥~♥

She beamed as I present to her my gift. An expensive perfume that she saw on a shop five days ago. She is squealing in delight at the second she recognize it.

"Oh my gosh! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! I can't believe that you manage to buy it~

How could I even return the favor?"

I laugh at how cute she is being right now. Little did she know, I did not even spend a single cent to get it. Wait...no I actually have. Just not mine.

"Don't worry, Giggles. To see your smile is enough for me to say it's worth it."

Nice, that's a smooth one Cuddles. My remark brought a blush on her angelic face. She then pulls me into a hug, something that I expected to get but could still appreciate.

"Aww, this is why I love you my fluffybuns. I'm so glad to have a boyfriend like you!"

I smile as I pat her head. Her wonderful scent wafts in the air as I caress her soft, pink fur. Oh how much I wanted to stay like this forever. However, a ring destroys the moment.

Both of us stop and look at each other. Withdrawing, she apologize and picks up her phone from her shoulder bag. I watch her expression change from bright to neutral and then grim.

"I know I understand...I will be there as soon as I can."

She ended the call.

"Something's wrong?"

She looks at me with guilt in her eyes. I could tell that she wanted to stay a little bit longer but the call has given her a reason not to.

"I am so sorry Cuddles but I have to go. The nurses who are suppose to work right now got into an accident and Lumpy couldn't handle it all by himself at the hospital. I guess I need to start my shift early."

What a bummer. Her shift is supposed to begin five hours from now. Despite feeling unpleasant, I manage to keep my cool.

"Ah don't worry my love. I understand. Just call me when you need a backup."

"Oh Cuddles. The world will be a better place if critters are as understanding as you. See ya later then. I love you!"

She pecks me in my cheek and runs toward the location of a bus stop. I truly adore her. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I shout out my response.

"I love you more!"

She turns around and copies my volume.

"I love you more than anything!"

Oh Giggles, my love for you is so much that I'm willing to do anything for you...

I wave my hand at her as she runs away. I did not stop until she is out of my sight. I sighed and walks away. I guess I have to continue my mission early too.

Pushing the boulder away from a certain spot, I stoop to pull the hidden latch, opening the entry to a bunker.

Jumping down, I swiftly takes my bag full of supplies and a vacuum cleaner. I also wear the "job outfit" that I borrow from a certain friend that must not be named.

After climbing up the ladder carrying my props, I close the hatch and push the boulder back to its original place.

As I stroll towards the house of my next target, I found myself recounting the moments I accomplished my first goal. It was...exhilarating. The adrenaline I got is much more than the one I have while skydiving.

True, I felt remorse and a tiny bit of guilt after doing it but I'd be lying if I say I regret everything. In the end, watching how that pedobear mofo suffers from my own paws is satisfying, and that's all that matters.

Critters tends to underestimate me since I'm just a kid in their eyes. Yeah I admit that I'm immature most of the times, but that doesn't mean I'm incapable of doing serious stuff. I watch enough movies and documentaries to say I know a thing or two with slaying rivals creatively.

It all starts with swaying the prey. Luring him is unsurprisingly not that hard. I just have to send him pictures and epic one liners on his inbox at that stupid dating app and boom! Charmed. He's willing to meet me at a specific, secluded place only me and him know. Never suspecting anything for a bit. He's like a really dumb fish who suddenly bites the bait despite a hook sticking through it!

As the fool arrived at my rented apartment room, he did not see the lover of the girl he always flirts with. Instead, he sees a purple female bunny wearing a cute outfit named Toodles who is infatuated with him. I let him in and offer snacks and tea, which he blindly accepts. As he eat, we talks just as the way we do in our chat.

I remember how he makes that disgusting face at me that he dubbed as his "fierce and flirty look" from time to time.

I am keeping myself from puking at the moment as he leans forward with that breath, asking me for a dance.

Despite feeling unpleasant, I manage to keep my cool. I did not become the best actor in drama club for nothing. I have to convince him that my character is so into him. So I did what I have to do in my script.

I pull him even closer, catching him off guard and making the pathetic asshole blush. This malicious pervert flipping blush! I can't even express my repulsion against this filthy degenerate.

"Maybe I would if you finish your tea~" I muttered in perfect, feminine tone.

Oh I just really smile as I saw that he finally ingested the damn fluid into his system. He, however, thinks it's because I fell in love with him. He drinks the whole cup in one go!

He was extending his hand out to me, about to say something, but found himself unable to do so. Or do anything else at all. His hand trembles before he collapses to the floor. I giggled as he flops like a fish. His mouth is gaping as he try so hard to breathe. He looks up at me with utter confusion in his eyes. Can't talk dirty now that you're paralyzed huh sicko?

"Nothing personal Disco. It's just that I heard that you're really messing around this town. You're pretty famous for being a headache for everyone. Now, let me tell you something. This is for harassing and killing every girl you encountered ~"

I grab the kettle and pour its boiling hot contents on his chest. Oh how euphoric it was to see him writhes in pain. The scent of his burnt flesh fills the room. I was grinning ear to ear as I watch in fascination how the tea spreads all over his fur.

"And this is for assaulting my brother's girlfriend, Giggles~"

I suddenly smashed the kettle on his crotch. He would be wailing in pain at the time if his throat isn't numb. All that came out in his mouth is pitiful gurgles as he pees on the floor. I move and stand besides his ugly face. My entire body is quivering in excitement and rage as I clutch on the shattered kettle tightly.

"And this is for killing her with a fucking kettle you ignorant pimp~"

And with that, I found myself bludgeoning the shittyhead over and over again with a kettle until he resembles a squashed tomato. I keep bashing on his shattered skull even after he stopped twitching. Finally, I stepped on his heart with my heels to satisfy my ears with that squelching flesh. Then, I went to the bathroom to shower the dye away. It takes me four hours to remove the fake color entirely off my fur. Of course, I did not leave without taking his wallet.

It's been three days since the incident and I haven't seen him around, which is a good sign. What I've done is super effective. I think after all that, he wouldn't bother Giggles anymore. Heck, I am confident enough to say that he wouldn't even dare to look at any girl ... hehehe ... look. Something that my next victim couldn't do. That makes everything easier.

I found myself on front of the house I seek. I casually walk towards the doorstep and press the doorbell.

Now I would have skip Mole over since the idiot mistaken Lumpy as Giggles on their blind date. That means, my motivation of killing him is not jealousy if that's what you're thinking. No. It's something deeper than that.

His obliviousness and idiocy is what ticks me off. He killed my precious girl by literally stealing her heart with a freaking stick. Then he just throws it in a filthy thrash bag like it was nothing. Oh how much I wanted to punch him square in the face when I see him pries the door open. But I didn't.

Sounding lanky and awkward, I announced my assumed identity.

"Randell of Happy Tree Cleaners, leaving your homes squeaky clean. Our company is very sorry since we couldn't send Petunia today. However, I am here to take her place. I hope you wouldn't mind, sir."

"Oh. Of course I wouldn't mind at all lad but I think you came pretty early."

Feigning confusion, I responded to him in a shameful tone (which I applaud myself for such a convincing performance).

"Oh I truly am sorry sir. I'm still new to the job and kinda not listening to my superior when she's passing the information over the phone..."

"Ah a newbie. No, don't worry at all. I actually admire you! Working so hard, always ready to face the task at hand as immediately as possible. You're also modest. You remind me of myself back in my younger days..."

Then a long time was wasted for his flashback that I could not see. I really hate delays but I'm not rushing so I let him do his thing.

"Oh silly me. What am I thinking letting you stand outside for so long! Come, enter my humble abode young one."

I thanked him as I went inside. The contents of my shoulder bag clatters against each other for every move I make.

As he leads me to the room he thought I'd bother to clean, I am appreciating the edginess of the vacuum's flexible hose that I'm holding. I am very proud to say I assembled it myself. I have tried it on cows and boy the precision of the cut was just fascinating. I left a clean hole through the chest of the dumb animal.

My eyes are locked on his back as he talks about taking pictures of a case that an evil mouse wanted or something like that. His keys are jiggling as he unlocked the door to his kitchen. He turns around to face me.

"-anyways, here we are in the kitchen, Early Randell. You may begin your "germ extermination," as Petunia put it."

"Oh, only she could do that sir. I have a different method and it's called "trash assassination."

"Really? Sorry to break it to you son, but I believe there's no such thing that's present in this room. There is just dust and dirty dishes."

"Excuse my language sir, but I could see one standing out in the middle of the room."

"Oh my, that must be the apple that I lost a while ago. Could you please take it out?"

"It's my pleasure to do so. After all..."

In a second, I thrusts the vacuum hose on his chest. It delights me how its end easily punctures through his clothes then his flesh. The idiot didn't react at first and only notice what I'm doing when I successfully take his heart out.

"The only thrash I see in this room is you. P.S. I know what you've done to Giggles. I'll come back if you repeat it again..."

He actually tries to escape but oh its just too late.

Resistance is futile after all, no matter how much you struggle old guy.

A few seconds pass before his body finally went limp. I smile as I let go of the vacuum hose.

Whistling the theme song of this town, I grab his filthy organ off of my vacuum. I take a moment to observe how it weakly pulses on my grasp. I find it fascinating that this thing is still beating despite its raptured state.

Then I pick the note I left from and continued whistling. I dump his heart into the thrash bag filled with decomposing materials and feces. If you're wondering where the heck it came from, its hidden inside the vacuum.

Of course I didn't want his heart to rot alone so I let his body join in. It's hilarious that his body would regenerate in there. Imagine respawning covered with shit.

I take out something out of my shoulder bag. Opening his fridge, I start lacing his food with cyanide. The medicines in his cupboard also get the same treatment. A sprinkle for this, a bunch on that and I'm done.

An hour was spent of taking care of the evidence. Cleaning is boring and tiresome but I have to do it. After disassembling the vacuum, disposing my outfit, sanitizing the floor and taking a bath, I went out of the house. I casually dump the garbages in the bin and then I take my leave. Two down, few more to go.

Up next is Flippy. He may seem to be an invincible rival but everyone have Achilles's heel – and I'm about to strike it. Wait, I'm not literally saying my target is the tendon at the back of his foot. The point is I know his weakness and its pathetic.

Currently, I am on my way to the psycho's location. My ears are flattened on the side of my head because of the hood of the black robe I'm wearing. My smiling skull mask is partially obscuring my sight. I am holding a blowgun disguised as a trumpet.

Anyway, for those who don't know what the flipping pants a blowgun is, it's a long narrow tube that shoots out an arrow or dart when someone breathes into it quickly and forcefully. Its content is not a dart though. It's peanuts.

Leaping few minutes forward, I am waiting at the entrance of an alleyway. My clothing blends well in the darkness. Flippy is visiting his psychotherapist and any minute now, he would leave the building and take the path in front of me.

Flippy... he is once my bro. He used to be the man I looked up on since he is serving the military from the age of 15. I thought he was cool but what he have done states he is far from that. We accepted him in our town and boy do I cursed the day that we did.

Turns out he gains an alter ego from the war who is a sadistic, bloodthirsty demon. Giggles and I have suffered hell from his paws. Now, it's payback time.

My thoughts were silenced by a voice whose source I'm too familiar with. As he walks into the desired spot, I blow the trumpet the hardest I possibly could. He screams, obviously surprised. Wasting no time, I push a certain button which allows air to pass through the blowgun. I watch a couple of peanuts shoots straight into his throat at bullet speed. All of this happened in just two seconds.

It seems that he didn't notice what just enter his mouth since he is busy catching up his breath. He looks stupid with his pupils dilated in fear. I toss the trumpet on the ground and run into the alleyway. He follows me, trying to match my speed. Amusingly, his body did not react instantly as I expected. Maybe it's because the number is fewer than the ones he ingested at the party.

"Darn it kid, why did you-"

It's not too long before he falls because of the tripwire I set up earlier. As I hear a dull thud, I turned around and smile.

He is groaning as his lips inflate. Multiple zits appeared on his face. His allergy reaction has rendered him immobile. I take out a knife from my shoulder bag, making sure he didn't see it.

His paws are trembling as he tried to stand. I am towering besides him when his limbs puffs up like a balloon.

"Something's wrong?"

Listening to his whimpers, I could tell how much he is suffering as his body painfully swells. I smirk as I kicked his ass hard, making him squeak in pain.

"You know you deserve it, Flip. If you can't handle the consequences, then you shouldn't have done these..."

As I said that last word, I throw photographs down for him to see. He knows he's to blame for all the mangled corpses in it. In the middle of it all is Giggles with a rose puncturing through her head.

I am overjoyed when I hear him cry. Oh the taste of victory is truly sweet. As time passes, he looks like a balloon animal more than anything. His arms give up since it couldn't support his weight anymore.

He mumbles something that resembles to an apology, which is empty since I've heard him say it countless times.

"You could only pay for your sins with death."

Desperate to live, he tries to drag himself forward, hoping he could move away from me. It's amusing that such an indestructible beast lives inside this wimp. We both know that those stubby fingers never help him in this situation in any way. It only makes him more pathetic.

I then dug my dull knife into his back and watch as his skin bursts. His body contorted as unimaginable pain washed over his body.

"What? You say you want more?"

I poked his shoulder with the tip of my blade and it explodes. The walls are painted by its disgusting contents. It's like I'm playing with a living bubble wrap.

"You like pain right? Don't you enjoy this? Huh? Huh!?"

I found myself caught in a frenzied mood of hacking and slashing. His body is constantly receiving new, multiple wounds. His ugly face is squeezed against the asphalt road. His head is twitching every time I plunge my weapon into his body.

For the final act, I hit the top of his head and zip his skull open, splitting his brain apart.

Panting heavily, I laugh. I've done it! I've defeated the unstoppable force. I stand to observe my work.

I turned around and meet the eyes of a preschooler dropping his lollipop. I could tell that he was about to take my trumpet when he saw something in the darkness moves. I guess my robe is really black. Imagine a floating skull smiling down at you.

He backs away as he saw the blood dripping from my gloves. I wave hi to him and he runs away. Yep, I just scarred a child's life forever. I have a pretty good feeling that he's gonna have nightmares about a skeleton and a trumpet tonight.

Welp, time to dispose this body. Good thing there's an incinerator conveniently placed at the end of this passage.

Dragging Flippy by his foot, I hum the coffin meme tune to myself. He's not that heavy anymore since chunks of his flesh pops like a bubble earlier. Scrapes form on his skin as I pull him.

With a heave and a ho, to the furnace he go. Don't forget the knife and the costume~

I just finished disposing my stuffs when my phone plays that special ringtone. Picking it up from the shoulder bag, I greet my precious Red Ribbon.

"Heya Giggles~ How are you?"

My expression shifts from bright to grim when I hear her weakly whispers that one word.

"Help…"

This was followed by a thunderous crash and a white noise. My heart sank deep into my guts. Running out, I only have one thing in mind – save her before it's too late.

I'm not really paying attention so I collided with someone riding a bike. As my butt hits the ground, I groan.

"Gah! What are you thinking running into me like that- Cuddles?"

Looking up, it's my best friend, Toothy. As he help me stand up, I quickly steal his ride.

"What in the-"

"Sorry Toots! Emergency, I'll return it later."

Huffing and puffing, I pedal like my life depends on it. Cars are beeping as I zoom by them. I've taken sharp turns and gave heart attacks to crossing pedestrians. I didn't even bother to stop when the traffic light is red. The only thing I care about right now is to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

Smoke is rising from the horizon. It didn't take long before the building came into my view. My heart skips a beat as I see its remnants. My blood runs cold as a thought of her crushed body appears in my head.

I am preventing the tears that is burning my eyes to fall. I hop off the bicycle and run closer. I keep telling myself that I'm not yet late.

Broken glasses are scattered around. Shattered walls are laying against each other. I found an opening and force myself to fit through it. As I successfully did, I start searching for any sign of her.

I am frantically shaking the doorknobs when I heard her voice screaming for help. It sounds faint, which means she's far from were I'm at, but at least I know her direction.

I crawl under a fallen pillar then run to a door I haven't check. As I press my head against it, I hear her whimpering. I started to charge myself against it, my new attempts stronger than the last one.

Hang in there, Giggles...

Out of nowhere, something crash which makes the earth trembles. I press my ears against the door again. She's not making any sound anymore.

This prompts me to try harder. Adrenaline is coursing through my veins as I imagined the worst possible scenario. The door slammed open with the force I've applied. I can't help but stumble forward a little bit after that. There she was, six feet from where I am. I could not believe my eyes for what I'm currently seeing.

The Golden Idol is laying on the floor, crushed into dust. The crying face of my love is kissing the guy I assume is responsible for the damage of the cursed figure. A sun ray, originating from a huge hole at the ceiling, illuminates the spot where the two are standing. Her hands are around his shoulder. Giggles withdraw and mouthed the words "Thank You" to Splendid.

My whole body is trembling in rage. When did we kissed like that? Oh right! When we're fucking dead. I clutch something from my shoulder bag. I coughed loudly, announcing my presence.

The two turn to my direction. She gasp. She's saying words but I could not understand them. A plain smile is painted on my face as I quickly walks towards them. I brush pass the girl who turns me crazy in love.

Splendid chuckles and spreads his arms, expecting a hug. That's exactly what I give him...with an extra stab on his chest with my kryptonut dagger.

He's lucky because I'm not gonna do what I have in mind for him. He kneels and screams as his body quickly degrades. I snap to Giggles with a huge smile on my face...

The grasses sway with the wind. The view of the sunset in this spot is truly romantic. I sigh as I look into her eyes.

"I'm so glad that you could understand me, Giggles. I've only done all of that because of you. Now, nobody would ever bother you and we can stay like this forever~"

I smile as I pat her head. Her wonderful scent wafts in the air as I caress her soft, pink fur. Oh how much I adore her cute face.

"I know you didn't expect me to forgive you after what you've done. That's just how much I love you. I will do anything and everything just to make you smile."

I touch the spot at the end of her lips and help her to smile. After all, she couldn't done that all by herself in this state. I smiled as I remember what she said to me this morning.

"Aren't you glad to have a boyfriend like me?"

♥~♥~♥~♥~♥

Since I turned Cuddles into a killer, does this story counts as a creepypasta?

Writing this is a doozy so I hope you like it the same way that I make it. Write your thoughts down the comments!