#when he said ill b helping out from the shadows

[zushimart]

[muntitled]

Tic-Tac-Toe

Pairing: The Salesman x Fem!reader

Summary: Every Wednesday your schedule consisted of attending classes during the day, and satisfying the needs of a sadist through the night.

Warning: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Violence, Kidnapping, Isolation, SociallyAnxious!Reader, Blindfolds, Stalking, Knives, Blood, Gore, Stockholm Syndrome, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Insertion, Fingering, Rough Sex, Erotophonophilia, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Dacryphillia, Sadomasochism, Gunplay, Deepthroating, Breeding Kink, Unprotected sex

A/N: Hell is empty

4k Words

You're strapped in a chair, like always, and you are blindfolded because he doesn't trust easily.

It's terribly annoying.

At any point of during and after your little 'arrangement' you could have called the cops. Doesn't he understand that?

Every Wednesday, you're taken from the warmth of your apartment, and you're delivered right back at 00:00 on the dot, every Thursday with barely an inch of life left in your bones. You'd either always come back wet, with semen sliding between your thighs, or with mysterious marks- old and new- crawling underneath your sweater. Whatever mood he was in, he'd always leave you feeling sore.

It should have bothered you.

The thought of seeing this large, domineering shadow-in-a-suit every Wednesday should not overwhelm you with all these feelings of excitement. Instead, you should do like all the mentally ill girls do and just get some fucking help.

But you want him to trust you, for some reason.

Which was utterly ridiculous considering the fact that to him, you were something akin to a porcelain wind up toy for his amusement. You had no business requesting he remove the blindfold aspect but still, you asked anyway. Toy's couldn't be trusted, could they?

"I'd really appreciate it if I didn't have to wear one of these everytime I visit your place." He removes the blindfold, and in a second, your vision is filled with nothing but him. One moment you were in the cozy warmth of your dorm room. Curled up on the couch while your roommate spends her youth effectively- out with boyfriends and friends and everything you didn't have. You answered the front door when you heard his special knock, like you always do. You walked with him to the cab. You let him put on the blindfold. You said 'I'm fine’ when the taxi driver got a little too nosy and you let him lead you away from your boring life.

If only for a few hours.

You'd let him do whatever he wanted for those few hours because such surrender was almost sacred. You forfeited your safety in his hands, to do with it whatever he pleased and in that, you found rest. Whatever happens, happens.

Forget this room- what was essentially his personal dungeon, windowless, red and boasting various torture objects- your eyes are only on him.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't feel the need to kidnap me anymore? We do this every Wednesday," You become more childish around him and he lets you. Like you forgot you are a fully autonomous university student. There was power in that too. "Surely we've established some sort of trust?” He doesn't respond to you immediately. You crane your head up at him, hungry to lock eyes with his cold, empty slits that enchanted you body and soul.

You are in love with him, perhaps.

That's a logical response isn't it?

You laugh almost.

Listening to yourself try to rationalize your fondness for such a horrible man.

Said horrible man is silent. All you hear is the clicking of his dress shoes as he moves to the leather seat directly across from yours. Your eyes scan over all his movements.

The right corner of his lip quirks up. A small coffee table creates the only distance between you and he bends over to pour you both a generous glass of Brandy on the rocks. You don't drink it. Ever since he's been bringing you here, you never do. He knows this, yet still he pours.

"This relationship isn't about trust." He says finally. Something inside you, that is perhaps a little broken, actually purrs at the sound of his voice. You're hyperaware of your thighs squeezing together on the leather seat. They're spilling out of the sundress you purposely wore today.

Lots of your clothes were for the function of comfort. Your body was full and curvy and not always something to be advertised, unless you wished it to. Tonight, you wanted to show off as much as possible.

A thick leather band is keeping both your wrists locked to the armrests, while he sits back, free and so irrevocably in charge it should scare you. It should. But the sick and incredibly deranged thing is that it doesn't.

Outside, the rain is beating down on whatever building you're in, casting a thick veneer of grey all across the city.

But inside this velvet room... your heart is hammering inside its cage as you watch him undo the buttons of his crisp suit. A black one today. Jet black like his hair.

Although-

"You've got more grey in your hair than last week." You can't help but say.

He tilts his head in inquisition. "Are you insulting me or complimenting me?"

"I'll leave that up to you to decide," you shrug your shoulders as much as you can under these limited restraints. At least he hasn't restrained your ankles this time. Progress. "In here, you're the boss. Right?"

He takes a sip of his drink until finally, you've finally locked eyes. Your bare toes curl and your back arches slightly as you sit a bit straighter in your seat. Like you're in a lecture hall, although he is far more interesting than any of your professors.

"I'm not as young as I used to be," he finally says as he takes one more sip of his drink before bringing his briefcase onto the coffee table. Its presence is ominous and so horribly loud for an inanimate object. It kickstarts all your dormant nerves, revving up all the rest of your senses that have yet to catch up to the fact that you were facing the man of both your desires and nightmares once again.

"Who have you told about our arrangement?" The question causes you to roll your eyes. He watches the petulant movement with that same, silent smile and blank eyes. He unclicks the briefcase. Your stomach lurches and your thighs squeeze together. Pavlov's dog.

"Every time you ask me-" an object clinks onto the table. A butcher knife.

You try to pull your eyes away from the objects he's placing on the table, one by one. "Everytime you ask me if I've told anyone about our arrangement-" another object. A wooden spoon beside the knife. "Everytime I tell you the same thing."

Your throat closes when he uncovers a dildo. Bright pink and fucking menacing. "Carry on talking." He says, snapping your gaze away from the objects lining the table.

"I don't have any friends." Your voice is wobblier. You try to deny the sight of the rabbit vibrator, "It's the reason you picked me." You clear your throat as you hoped to clear all the nerves beginning to fog your mind. "Someone could've followed me here. B-But I don't really know anyone enough to care." The final object that clunks onto the glass coffee table and this time, you're unable to look away.

"Are we ready to begin?"

The metal revolver laying quiet and undisturbed beside the rabbit vibrator makes everything else on the table look like children's toys. Even the butcher knife.

You pull at the restraints, your legs quivering slightly as you shift and writhe in the seat. He studies you as closely as you were once studying him. You can see the excitement begin to flood his eyes at the physical manifestation of your discomfort.

"Now you're getting it." He nods sardonically, taking another sip from his glass before placing the briefcase on the floor beside him. "You were a little too happy to see me," he joked, letting out an airy exhale of laughter.

"You wanna hazard a guess as to what we'll be playing today?" He's smiling, genuinely. With that look in his eyes you can tell he's hovering in the clouds. Meanwhile you've begun to feel real fear. No matter how regular these visits might become you'd never get used to him. It's impossible. Not when he found new and daring ways to torture and pleasure you every single week. You couldn't get used to something as brash and unconventional as him. Like the conditions of a child in a broken home, he kept his tactics inconsistent so that every week is a new hell or perhaps- depending on his mood- heaven.

"If I guess wrong?" You swallow thickly and something dark in him settles. He spreads his legs more, there's a twitch inside his lips before he smiles again.

"Well, guessing isn't the game, so you'll be fine."

You nod your head... assessing the objects. There's menacing objects and household objects. Even just looking at them you can tell what they all have in common.

"Am I going to have to insert-"

"You're not guessing." His voice booms. He rests his elbow on the armrests, his hands corded with veins seem itching to do something, you're not sure what. "I said guess." He commands.

"Hide and seek?"

He snickers, "A favourite-"

"More like your favourite." You snip back, "I couldn't sit down the whole week." You frown at the memory. That week he'd brought you to an abandoned warehouse, letting you run the entire perimeter full.

"It's in your best interest to keep coming to our sessions-" he reminds you, snapping you back into the present.

"You're paying my university fees, I'm not complaining." You nod, before plastering a thin smile on your face, "All I have to do every week is prostitute myself to a literal sadist-"

"Have you given up on guessing today's game?" He didn't like you making him hyper aware of the fact that this dynamic, whatever it is, is considered objectively bad. And so you're not surprised when he swiftly moves past the topic.

He leans forward. His large hand disappears under his chair before uncovering a small whiteboard. Four lines- 2 horizontals are running across 2 verticals, creating 9 blocks. He stands up, while your eye is still focusing on the board. From your point of view it sits underneath the row of objects on the table. You don't even realize your right wrist strap is being untied.

"Colour?" He asks, pushing a crate of whiteboard markers towards you. With your now free hand you pick the pink one.

He snickers. "Predictable." He whispers before placing a large, domineering hand on your head. He presses down your braids, patting you like a stray he's rescued from the cold. You stare aimlessly ahead, fearing you won't be able to contain everything you've begun to feel for him if you lock eyes now.

"We're playing tic-tac-toe," he relents. His hand lingers on your head a bit longer before he's stepping away.

"With a twist, I presume?"

"Clever girl," he nods, walking back to his seat. "So you're aware of the objects."

"Place a gun in front of a girl and she's going to notice."

"Paranoid girl." He tsks before leaning forward.

"You want to start or should I?"

"Wait-" you swallow, "What happens if I win?"

He smiles that dazzling, debonair smile.

"You pick which one goes inside you."

Lightning cracks across the sky. A chorus of thunder roars all at once like some kind of phenomenon and your lips stutter open.

"Th-That's insane I-"

"I shouldn't have to remind you that you came here out of your own volition. "

"What happens if you win?"

"Then I choose." He says.

Your eyes skate over the object. It doesn't take an ivy league graduate to hazard a guess as to which of the objects he's itching to stick inside you.

"There's a fucking knife here-" You're trembling. Tears are pooling in your eyes. It doesn't even matter that you're a somewhat decent tic tac toe player. It doesn't matter that you're confident in this game. It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.

"And there's also a spoon," he nods, neutrally, "And a vibrator, and a dildo. Etcetera. Etcetera." He leans forward, unclicking his whiteboard pen, "your words are just words, Darling. You're just listing things. Start," he says, with a deadly lilt in his voice. "Or I will."

You scramble to uncap your marker with one hand, all while he watches with dead and black eyes. You knew that whoever starts the game was placed at a big advantage and so you're nearly scrambling to place that dignified X in the center block.

"Clever girl." He says once again, drawing his blue 'O' directly beside your pink 'X'. You aim for the block above him. He blocks it. You aim for the block beside the center. He blocks that too.

Your victory comes too quickly. You barely feel it as you strike a line vertically through the blocks. 3 X's.

Relief washes over you but it's overcast with doubt. Like you're celebrating in trepidation as you watch him stand up.

"Congratulations! Which do you choose?"

"I can pick anything?" You ask, staring up at him, bright eyes wild with the adrenaline that comes with wanting to preserve your organs.

"Anything you want, my little winner."

You begin to lean over. His eyebrows quirk up when you wrap a small hand around his wrist.

"I pick that." You say breathlessly. Your eyes zeroed in on his hands at his side. And you watch as he walks towards you, as if compelled by an unforeseen force. His palms are calloused underneath yours and you blow out several unstable breaths as he stands above you. So imposing it's breathtaking.

"You sure?" It's the way he asks it that has you second guessing. And perhaps he sees the caution seeping into your eyes because there's excitement lurking in his. Before you're even able to formulate a response, his hand is locked tightly around your esophagus, vacuuming all pathways shut until you're writhing for air.

"A fine, fine choice," He's becoming more and more riled up the more you writhe in your seat, trying to scrounge for a single breath of air. He doesn't let you. Instead he moves behind you, before leaning down.

If you could breathe, you would shiver at the feeling of his lips behind your ear. "Here we go-" he whispers, before reaching around your torso with his free hand before forcing your legs open. The second he lets his three digits stab into your cunt, he uncurls the grip on your throat as you make a horrid sound somewhere between a moan, a scream, and a haggard gasp. "FUCK- Sl-Slowdown-" you knew better than to request something like that. All you hear is a snicker from behind you as pain blossoms all across your nether regions. He's not gentle. He's not kind. He doesn't allow you to adjust to his fingers before he's scissoring them inside you, causing a blood-curdling scream to rip itself out of your throat. Your back is arched and you're trying to get away from him but the fucking persists.

"You've been wet like this for me the entire time?" He sounds absolutely demented, behind you, "You wanted this didn't you?" He bites at your ear as the first tears begin to pool at your eyes, "My little winner."

"P-Please stop-" His fingers are restless inside you. Curling and uncurling. Scissoring and stabbing as if wanting to open you up and split you all the way in half.

"What a pretty little pussy, huh? Look at what a mess you're making."

"When-" you can't form words. "When- Stop?" It's all you're able to say as your nails dig into the material of his suit.

"The sooner you cum the sooner it stops."

You doubted your ability to cum under these circumstances. He's setting an ungodly pace and it's all so hurried and in a frenzy, it's like your brain does not have time to understand if you even like what's currently being done to you.

"What- Do you want you want my help?" you begin to shake your head. "I'll help you, baby-"

His other hand reaches over and pinches your clit.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm is quite literally forced out of you. Your hips writhe and your ass tries to leave the seat as the first feelings of pleasure rip through you by force. "That's it, Clever girl," he coos, still curling his fingers inside you, "That's my Clever girl." He says once more before stilling his movements. For a second you just sit there, trying to collect your breath while he's still inside you. All at once, his hands are removed from your body.

He grabs a handkerchief from his breast pocket and you watch him clinically wipe his hands before erasing the marks on the board with the same cloth. A very clear boner pushes against his black slacks yet still his face is calm.

"Alright, My turn to start-"

"WHAT!? B-But I won." You scream, absolutely seething with desperation.

"You know everyone who plays 'X' has a significantly higher chance at winning-" You say with your eyes narrowed. He nods.

"And you know that too, which means we each should be granted alternating times to play ‘X’. Regardless if you won or not." You slump in your seat, suddenly far too aware that your bare cunt is exposed.

"Don't mope." He says, "It's not cute." Before drawing his 'X' in the center.

You close your legs, sitting upright with a new zeal of self preservation as you grab ahold of your marker.

You draw your pink 'O' underneath his.

You both play many more rounds. All ending in ties. This is how you play- with a frazzled grip and closed legs. A shiver every now and then overcomes you with the gravity of your aftershocks. His snickers bring your eyes up to his. He speaks as he makes his move.

"You're so focused on blocking," he sighs, "You're not even trying to win anymore-"

"I'm not letting you stick a knife in my cunt." You nod in finality before blocking another move.

"Not even if I say please?" He asks, making a faux pout.

"Fuck off."

"In that case, I have to win."

Your heart kickstarts as he pushes his pen to the board. Images flash across your mind. Blood splattered across his gorgeous face. Your blood as he fucks the sharp end of a knife inside you. You nearly vomit while he speaks. “Easy as-" you block him.

"Tic-" you block him again.

"Tac-" you block him some more

"Toe- I Win."

A victory that somehow escaped your vision. He strikes a line diagonally through the squares and your stomach sinks. He stares at you from across the room. His eyes so deeply satisfied you can feel it radiating off of him in waves.

You lower your teeth to the other restraint, violently trying to free your left wrist from its oppressive hold. And you watch as the devil slowly rises.

Your heart aches. Your brain is sent into complete alarm as your flight or fight kicks in and your sympathetic nervous system fires.

"Now, which one would look pretty inside you?" He drags his fingers along the objects, undoubtedly an act of taunting. You stomp your feet on the ground. You try to push the chair underneath you but it's plastered to the floor.

"Please!" Tears are running thickly. They cloud your vision. You don't even see the way his smile falls enough for him to rub over the bulge in his slacks.

"Fuck," he says gravelly as he relents and picks up the gun. "You're so fucking pretty when you're scared out of your fucking mind. You know that?"

You shake your head as he nears, wondering if this might really be the end. Has your body become too worn out by his games? Has the time for him to discard his toy finally dawned on you both? Is he all grown up with no need for such things as toys?

"PLEASE-NO-"

"Open your mouth." He's standing in front of you, your head directly in front of his raging bulge.

You shake your head, trying to move away but he rips your face towards him. "Listening to me is the only choice you have to make it out alive, Baby. You wanna live, don't you?" He's nothing but a tall figure, with the overhead lights shining around his head like a halo. Your face right by his bulge.

"Little girl needs to go to school." He nods, eyes fluttering shut, "She needs to complete her studies and get a good job so she wouldn't have to meet with scary men like me- Fuck-" it riled him up to no end to have you scared of him. You suppose it triggered a part of him that craved attention. He needed to feel like he existed and if that was reeped from fear then so be it.

"Stick the barrel in your mouth," the bottom of his hand coaxed open your jaw, and, as if on autopilot, you listen. Perhaps there is a way out of this. Perhaps you should just listen.

"That's it... Fuck," he brings your free hand up to rub his erection "That's it, Baby, stick it inside your mouth." Cold metal hits your lower teeth, "Stick it in like you would a cock." He says, looking down at you intently as your tongue unfurls and you suck the barrel in. "Shit-" he places his other hand on the back of your head before forcing you to take the gun deeper down your throat. He's trembling. Far too badly. And so is his finger on the trigger.

"Fuck, you're such a fucking whore, you know that?"

You're gagging and flailing around the barrel, saliva slides down.

So desperate to please him.

In your hast you don't even realize your left hand that had been restrained is now free. Your eyes are closed.

Please him.

Just please him and you'll live.

"That's my brainless girl..." he praises and that rouses something in you. It has your hips bucking against nothing.

"Such a stupid girl..." he continues, "You're gonna ride me, aren't you? You're gonna fuck me so good-" You're not about to tell him that sex wasn't supposed to be apart of this game. You're not stupid.

You faintly hear the sound of a belt unlooping. A zipper siding down. "You're making me so happy, baby." He admits before effortlessly lifting you from the chair until you're straddling him.

You're free.

When did that happen?

"F-Fuck, I need you to ride me." His head is leaning back against the chair. His tie hangs messily from his shirt that has two buttons undone.

You're free.

"Don't try anything," he warns, as he lifts you enough to pull his cock out of his pants. "Matter of fact. Keep it in your mouth while you ride me-" He slams you down onto his cock the very second those words leave his mouth. He's fucking into you with recklessness and fury and violence. His hair falls in his face but the gun is too heavy, without a hand there, it nearly slips from your mouth.

He's careful to catch it, forcing the barrel back in your mouth as he places a hand on your ass, controlling how your ass bounces on his lap. The gun offers motivation like no other. It has you arching your back and swirling your hips as you tighten your cunt around him.

He sticks the gun down too far and you gag. "You trying to get me to cum, huh? You little slut-" you nod, the tears still spilling as pleasure begins to stream through your brain. It has you excited by the prospect of being held at gunpoint. You realize with grave certainty that you've arrived at the point of no return.

"What a good girl- fuck-" he's ramming up into you, his hand on the gun twitching like his cock does. "I'm gonna fucking cum- FUCK-" he does and your orgasm immediately barrels into you at the exact same time. You try to ride him, to milk it as much as you can, to continue to make him happy.

"Such a stupid fucking slut-" he whispers, eyes hooded as his hips still spurt cum into you.

Your ears perk. You see his finger on the trigger move. You squeeze your eyes shut as you hear a click.

"Such a silly girl." You hear him say. "Don't worry, Baby, it isn't loaded." You're still in your body. You're still alive, on his lap, your sundress unfurling around you both.

"Not yet anyway."

© to @muntitled on tumblr; do not repost

[miupow]

CRAVE。⧼ PROLOGUE ⧽ ─── 투모로우바이투게더

stay away from the woods。

★ pairing。txt ot5 x fem!reader‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎g。⧼ 📖 ⧽ fantasy , romance , comedy , angst , eventual smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎cw。descriptions of personal injury and blood ・animal attacks ・mentions of illness and death ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎wc。2. 1 k | to library。

★ includes。。。heeseung from enhypen

notes from lia。finally!! happy thanksgiving everyone, i'm thankful for every single one of my amazing readers!! i hope you enjoy the prologue to my very much anticipated crave series!! look out for the first chapter in the beginning of december!!

all your life, you had been told to never step foot into the woods. that there were monsters lurking just below its dark canopy, hiding just out of sight and patiently waiting to strike. and yet the whistling of the pines has never been this entrancing. the trees taunt you from your safe little cabin, their outstretched branches waving and creaking in the wind as if they were beckoning you closer and closer.

you can see them just as perfectly from the bakery as you can from your bedroom window. they feel inescapable.

the shrill, tinny ringing of a bell snaps your attention away from the open window, your thoughts having consumed you as you laid out fresh loaves of bread to cool in the frosty air. you brush your floury hands off on your apron and turn to welcome your customer, your polite smile growing into a warm grin when you recognize the lanky boy standing by your workbench.

“that’s an awful lot to be doing all on your own.” he comments with a sideways smile, running his fingers through his auburn hair.

“i open the shop by myself every morning, hee.” you reply pointedly, rising to your tip toes to give him a quick hug before brushing past him towards the towering stone oven. “you know mother can’t work this early anymore.”

“couldn’t you ask one of your siblings to help?”

“they’re too young to use the oven or mill the wheat, they’d be no help at all. it’s not even that much work, really, just baking and cleaning. i don’t want to burden them with all of this on top of everything else.”

nothing has been the same since your father fell ill. the bakery was his and your mother’s, a humble way to support their family and their quaint little village for decades. you were never particularly wealthy, but you had enough to get by. consumption, the village doctor had called it. it was a truly fitting word for the disease that slowly consumed your poor, frail father whole. nothing was left, not even the bones. a mere shadow laid in bed all day, a ghost whose coughs have began to sound like rattling chains. none of the medicines the doctor prescribed ever worked, they only seemed to be making him sicker. he said that there was a hospital in the royal city, but your village was days away by carriage, and you and your mother had nowhere near the means to fund the trip. part of you were certain he wouldn’t survive the journey either way.

your mother now spends her days caring for him, an apothecary’s daughter clinging on to the last shreds of hope that her remedies will ward off the hands of death. you desperately wish you could feel the same, but you’ve already begun grieving… until recently.”

“mother said she’d stop by to help this afternoon.” you assert, leaving no more room for discussion. you can feel his eyes on your back, watching you as you stoke the firewood and slide trays of dough into the oven. “you worry about me too much! i’m not a little girl anymore.”

“i worried about you then and i’ll worry about you now.” heeseung chuckles endearingly, erupting a swarm of butterflies in your belly. “you’ve always been a little too brave.”

his words remind you of your mulling thoughts, pulling your gaze back to the window. “heeseung, have you ever known someone who went into the woods?”

heeseung is quiet for a worryingly long time. “the blackwoods? not anyone who made it back… why?”

your mind is screaming at you to keep your mouth shut, but you just can’t keep it all bottled up inside anymore. you’ve never hidden a single thing from your best friend, except this. “i was reading my mothers books the other day.” you admit softly, unable to look him in the eye. “in one of them it said there is a plant that grows in the blackwoods, a type of flower. it can cure any illness, save people from the brink of death…”

“y/n.” heeseung warns, his face dropping. “you’re not seriously considering going in there, are you?”

you hesitate for a second too long— he cuts you off with a scoff, stepping forward to grip your shoulders with his rough carpenter’s hands. “there’s no way that flower is even real, y/n. don’t be childish. just some fairytale out of one of your mother’s quack medicine books.”

“it was my grandfather’s.” you defend softly, finally looking up into heeseung’s eyes— the coldness you find in them frighten you.

“he was a quack too.” heeseung retorts, releasing your shoulders to turn and swiftly slam the bakery window shut. your loaves shake from the force. “there’s no magical flower that is going to save your father, especially not in the blackwoods. i love you, y/n, seriously, but you can’t keep believing in fairytales— and you wonder why i worry about you so much! promise me, you won’t go in those woods. please. one step inside and you’ll never come out. i can’t afford to lose you— your family can’t afford to lose you.”

“okay.” you relent, just loud enough for heeseung to hear. “you’re right, i was being ignorant. i won’t go into the woods.”

“say you promise.”

“i… i promise…”

standing at the edge of the forest, your cold clammy fingers wrapped tightly around the strap of your satchel, you’re caught frozen in place. you just can’t seem to get your feet to step forward, your psyche screaming at you to turn back and run home. heeseung’s words circle your thoughts, so all-consuming that you swear you can hear them in the howling wind— you haven’t told a lie since you were very young, and never to heeseung of all people. the guilt nags at you to the point of nausea.

but you had made up your mind long before you had spoken to heeseung earlier that morning. he’s a simple woodworker, he doesn’t understand a single thing about the healing magic that hides in nature… but your grandfather did. he wrote those books himself, a man who would risk his life in the pursuit of knowledge, just to help others. you wanted nothing more than to continue his legacy, save your father and prove to your close-minded little village that he was anything but the insane, rambling idiot that they all viewed him as. before and after his death. you’ve been preparing for weeks, reading as much as you can about the dangers of the blackwoods, packing whatever you possibly could think of to help you on the journey. you might have overpacked, to be honest, your weathered leather satchel hanging heavy on your shoulder. if everything went as you planned, you would be back home before anyone would notice that you were gone.

your breath fogs in front of your face, reminding you of the hearth smoke billowing from your cabin’s chimney. you can still see it, just beyond the hill, its straw hatch roof just visible over the tall grass waving in the wind. you could turn back now, put all your things away and fall asleep in the safety of your bedroom. you could forget about all of this and wake up tomorrow morning as if you had never planned anything at all.

you will yourself to move your feet, frozen in your boots like the frost on the leaves, and you enter the ominous pitch-black dark of the blackwoods.

the tree canopy is so thick that the moonlight barely breaches it, everything swathed in darkness as you walk farther and farther away from home. the flickering candle in your lantern does little to illuminate much except what was right in front of you. you focus on what you can see, the dead fallen leaves and frosty underbrush that crunch loudly underneath your feet as you venture deeper. it’s deafening in your ears, the forest eerily silent all around you, not even the distant call of an owl, the scattering of a chipmunk— you’re certain that any creatures hiding in the trees or in the brush knew of your presence.

including the monsters.

in none of the books you read would they ever describe them more than just that; monsters that use the night as camouflage, that kill livestock in their pens and steal children from their beds. any intruder in their own territory will certainly be made short work out of. you’ve always believed that they were nothing but scary stories to keep children well behaved, a tall tale your mother would use to get you to come inside for bed.

distantly, cutting sharply through the silence, you hear the howling of a wolf. it sounded a safe distance away, yet it still sent you jumping. the sudden movement causes your lantern to extinguish, plummeting you into complete and total darkness. your heart dropping, you curse, placing it on the forest floor against a mossy tree before opening the flap of your satchel and rummaging blindly through the contents for your matchbox. you try to steady your breathing, heart rattling against your ribcage, matchbox just beyond your grasp as you struggle in the dark.

you hear the rustling of leaves just to your right. desperately, you tell yourself that you’re just hearing things.

finally, you wrap your fingers around the familiar shape of your matchbox, pulling it out to fumble with its contents before you pick back up your lantern. with a strike of the match against the rough bark of the tree, you’re illuminated once again, carefully lighting the candle before putting out the match with a shake of your hand. triumphantly, you turn to continue to venture farther into the woods, before stopping cold. your breath knocks out of you all at once, leaving you gasping in the cold air.

farther up on the oak tree, carved crudely into the bark, are three sharp claw marks you’re almost certain weren’t there before.

but they had to have been, because there was simply no way that something could have snuck up so close to you without you noticing. these woods were driving you mad, you feared, still trying to steady your breathing as you turn and step forward.

as you continue deeper into the forest, you swear you hear another pair of footsteps following your own. you stop abruptly to catch them, but you hear nothing— another thing you must be imagining… yet you set onward a little faster than before.

maybe it was that wolf you had heard, you entertained as you examine the dark twisted trees. it sounded rather far away, but you couldn’t be one to discount the creature’s speed. maybe it was just watching you to make sure you weren’t a threat, and it would leave you shortly…

a growl, deep and barely audible, rumbles from between the bushes. you break out into a wild sprint, gasping and panting, running deep into the unknown. the creature chases you with frightening speed, no longer trying to hide its footsteps as it weaves through the forest floor. you had no idea where you were or where you were going, but this beast… this was his home. the hunt was on.

low hanging branches scratch and tear at your skin and clothing as you run, blood running down your face, legs and arms— you couldn’t feel the pain, the adrenaline numbing everything except for the terror in your heart. now you were just easier to track, you agonized, but you couldn’t do anything but keep running, dropping your satchel and lantern to lighten your load as much as you could. alas, you barely ran any faster… you were starting to slow down, exhaustion was starting to creep up on you, your chest aching and desperate for breath, your legs screaming in pain as you stumble and stagger through the labyrinth of trees. you couldn’t see a single thing in front of you, completely lost in the darkness, your arms outstretched to feel around as you ran.

the creature was advancing, it’s footsteps thunderous right behind you, its snarls and growls growing closer and closer. in a desperate attempt to escape, you sharply turn to the right to run in a different direction.

just as you move to step forward, your boot wedges itself underneath an exposed tree root, and you are sent tumbling to the mossy ground. you try to break your fall with your hands, but you react far too late— you slam your head against a jagged rock, blinding white light flashing behind your eyelids before your world goes black.

the last thing you feel is pain, and the last thing you see are two bright, bloody red eyes staring at you through the darkness.

[murder-cookie-dust393]

Ok yeah I think I was too vague or something. Also yes that is a quite from a song.

Here’s some cookies I had in mind when Y/N said this:

Pure Vanilla

Crème brûlée 

Black Pearl

Red velvet?

Sea fairy

You can add extra if you want, but it’s optionally.

-🪑Anon

Okay so I did some brief research on the quote (because I've always never understood what it meant) but basically it means that the person doesn't wants all of the other's love. Which in this case is just feeding into the yandere idea.

I'm so sleepy so if things are weird...I'm too lazy to care.

Tw: Mentions of murder, isolation, kidnapping, nonconsensual transformation of the body, delusions, threats

Pure Vanilla

- If you don't know if this man is obsessed with you, you are inherently stupid. I've basically confirmed he is definitely one of the most obsessive ones, so you feeding into his delusions is not helping. At all.

- MC notices his (extremely obvious) attraction to them and says said quote, "Don't go wasting all your emotions, lay all your love on me". This makes him delighted, as he thinks you're accepting his delusions.

- His delusions are basically that you were meant for him and him only. You should always rely on him for any kind of help you may need. You were destined to be together.

"Oh, my darling bluebell! You really just want me to put all my attention on you, don't you? My, my, I guess I have to fulfill your requests." *smiling so creepily*

- I would imagine he would either A. Manipulate everyone into thinking you're married, or B. He isolates you from everybody. He locks you away in his castle.

Crème Brûlée (FINALLY SOMEONE WHO USES THE DIACRITICS)

- Bro is obviously very focused on his music 24/7. He's constantly practicing or editing his notes on what is going on musically in his sheet music. But...that doesn't mean he isn't keeping an eye on you too.

- He'll be very subtle compared to others when it comes to his yandere tendencies. He's someone who prefers to work in the shadows when it comes to his murders (he will murder 100%). The only time you'll ever see his unhinged moments are when you are alone with him, or you've been blatantly ignoring his affections. I will say, he isn't that obvious, so he can get pissy easily.

- *insert MC saying the quote*. Two things: one, he'll be so relieved and giddy that you notice his affections. Like he is literally doing twirls and jumps of joy. Second, he can narrow his focus onto the tiniest of details easily, so I can imagine he'll be a lot more obvious with his motions.

- Oh and he'll murder more. You basically accept him being a murderer.

"Huh? Why do you look so scared? Don't worry, I'm not gonna stab you or anything. I just killed Mint Choco over there for being too chatty with you." (Average Pianist moment: murdering our competitors /j)

Black Pearl

- Why the fuck would you do this. Like okay Pure Vanilla locks you away, and Crème Brûlée goes stabby stabby, but her??? You are literally everyone is fucked, including you.

- Just like the prior two, she'll be joyous that you're more accepting (kind of). She's much more calm about it. She just kinda giggles before threatening to take you back to the sea with her.

- That's what she does. She drags you down into the sea with her. You'll be kept some kind of structure, whether it's an abandoned ship or an underwater cave. From there, she just admires you and snuggles you a lot. Expect dead bodies as presents.

- She's not necessarily worshipful like Golden Cheese is. She's more so comfortable especially with the fact you're the first person to not have abandoned her/shut her out. More like a clingy but threatening cat.

- Like if you try to leave after what you said she'll just get pissy and destroy all the reasons you have to go back to the surface.

"Aww, now you don't have to go back up there! You can just stay here with me, in our home. You and I need some alone time..."

Red Velvet

- He's odd about it. When you feed into his illness, he's like "Why do you love me???" He assumes you love him back. He's so happy about it but also is confused over whether it's true or not.

- Regardless, he'll be more insistent on protecting you with his cake army. He doesn't want to lose the fact that you don't fear him. You want his love right? What better way than letting his cakehounds be all over you?

- The downfall to this though is that if you try to escape or anyone tries to take you back, he'll rage. He'll be irrational and try to turn you partially into a cake monster like him. He thinks you'll have to stay with him then. He prefers to mould you with a cakehound design.

- Then you'll be extra cute.

"Look at your little ears! They suit you so well. Now you're really the 2nd parent of my children."

- Cakehounds will see you as a parent no matter what.

Sea Fairy

- I read my general headcanons on her, and I think if she sees that you are accepting her actions, her guilt will go away. Then she'll be much more firm with doing anything immoral.

- I think instead of simply trapping you in her tower, she'll try to somehow make you a cookie related to the sea. She'll use her powers and permanently turn you into relying on the ocean.

- If you try to protest after she's done the transformation, she'll be confused. Didn't you say you wanted all her love? Well, this is all her love. You'll eternally have to rely on her and be within her presence.

- She'll feel guilt once more over you being distraught; however, she also feels this is your own fault for saying you want all her love. You could have said you just wanted her attention, not literally all her love.

- She'll try to comfort you after. It's a struggle though.

"Please do not be so troubled. I assure you this form will not change your identity. Only visiting your friends above the sea will be arduous."

—————————————————————————

Please do not feed into a yandere's illness. Literally you're just making a pit of doom for yourself.

Also, if you use Crème Brǔlée’s diacritics I love you.

My back hurts so bad. But anyway, hope you enjoyed! I need to snooze.

- Celina

[purpleyoonn]

The Line Between Love and War 10

C H A P T E R  10:  Bad Memories and Family Time

“It is said that the night sky is made up of tiny wishes that humans were never able to fulfill. That the stars only became bright by the fulfillment of those wishes. In your eyes, the stars that shine never seemed real, your childhood wishes dark and dim as you grow. But now, now you understand the twinkle in their eyes as they look down at you.”

Summary: Your experiences told you that soulmates were something you would never have the pleasure of having; something not given to you because of who you are, despite the soulmark that resides on your inner left wrist. During your solo trip to Los Angeles, you find out that you are more than capable, that your soulmates had been waiting for you for a long time, and would not be letting you go anytime soon.

Genre: soulmate au, bts au, idol bts, polyamory relationship, eventual smut

Paring: Idol!BTS x autistic!mc

Status: Ongoing (randomly updated)

Warnings: mental illness, talk of disability, lots of angst, miscommunication, feelings of depression, feelings of isolation, polyamory bts, stalking, dangerous behavior, eventual smut,

Chapter Warnings: a bad memory, major insecurities, family issues, sensory problems, mc is tense and uncomfortable, Hobi’s family is to sweet for the world, mc ptsd, 

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Masterlist // Chapter 9 // Chapter 11

————————————————–

Previously on The Line Between Love and War:

“Let’s take some pictures with our shirts on! You can post that!” You jumped from the couch at his words, the three of you quickly moving to change into the new shirts.

You had Jimin take the photos, your soulmate quick to have you doing different poses. You went with two of them, one with each of you showing your ‘muscles’, and the other was one that Jimin took when you all were laughing. You captioned it with a smiley face emoji and a laughing one before posting.

Jimin looked over at Jin, a happy yet sly smirk on his face as they realized his plan to change the subject worked, getting your mind off what happened and helping you make more memories with the boys.

When Namjoon returned, he was alone, and happy to find you laughing as you hung off Jungkook’s back, your arms around his neck as he spun in circles, Taehyung and Hobi recording the moment.

The following morning you woke up in the arms of Hobi, his low voice speaking into the phone he held to his ear. You couldn’t make out any words in your tired state, so you just continued to admire his morning voice from where you rested against his chest. You snuggled into the warmth your mate provided.

“She is not awake yet Mom. Yes, I promise. I booked the same restaurant as last time. Give her an hour or so.” You listened in as he spoke to his mom. You loved Hobi’s mom. She was the sweetest person you had met, even over the phone. And it made sense. Both of her children were also sweet.

“I know you’re awake pretty girl.” You felt his fingers trace alongside your jaw, moving until the bopped the tip of your nose.

“No, I’m not.” You mumbled back, oblivious to the loving grin on his lips. Pressing a kiss to your pouty lips, he moved his hand to brush back some hair from your face.

“My mother and sister are eagerly awaiting their day with you, baby. They’ve called me a couple of times now, wondering if you were awake.” Hobi mused as he watched you try to fight off your sleep.

It took a couple of seconds for his words to register, but when they did you almost knocked your forehead into his chin.

“Wait a minute! What time is it?” You ask him in a rush, your words almost slurring as they wake you up.

“It’s only nine o’clock, darling.” His words have you pushing yourself away from him, causing a sad groan to have his lips as you leave his embrace. He watches you rush around the room, gathering the clothes Jin had laid out for you the night before, the eldest picking matching clothes out for everyone, the creams and beiges creating a color-coded cohesive look.

“I promised them I would be ready by nine! Hobi, your mom is probably so mad with me! I’m never late for anything.” Your words are rushed, disappointment and sadness bursting from your body as you try to get changed as quickly as you can.

You were so upset with yourself for sleeping in, you didn’t want anyone to be mad at your or disappointed. You had enough of that at home and you didn’t thing you could handle the way you felt when you thought someone was upset with you, especially your soulmates or their families. You wanted them to see you as someone who had everything together, who never made mistakes or did anything wrong.

You could practically hear your mother sighing in your ear, could see the way she rolled her eyes and looked down at you.

“Would it kill you to do something right for once? I wanted you hear by six and its twenty past.” Your mother stood in front of you, her arms crossed against her chest as she stood next to her friends. Her eyebrows were perfectly sculpted and her makeup immaculate as she stared you down.

“You told me to be here at six thirty? I thought I was early…” You trailed off at the sound of one of her friends trying to muffler her laughter.

“No, darling.” You cringed at the nickname, hating the tone she said it with. “I told you to be here at six. And now you’ve embarrassed me by arriving so late. And dressed like this!” She gestured to you, causing you to look down.

You were dressed in what you thought was appropriate for a kid’s birthday party. You were wearing a pair of light wash jeans and a nice t-shirt, something you normally wouldn’t wear. You were itchy beyond belief and dug your nails into your palm to stop you from scratching at your skin.

“I don’t understand.” You say as you look back up at your mother. You watched as laughter fell from her lips and she turned to her friends.

“I swear, I have to pick out everything for her, she doesn’t know anything about clothes!” Her entire group of friends laugh as you now clutch the bottom of your shirt, feeling the tears build up in your eyes again.

“Go sit down, before you embarrass me even more.” You hear your mother tell you, nodding in response before moving to sit down at one of the tables at the edge of the large yard.

“Pretty girl, that’s it. Look at me.” You feel Hobi’s hands on your cheeks, turning your head to look at him. You could feel him wipe away tears you didn’t know had appeared.

“There you are. Hi baby.” He smiles at you, seeing the fog in your eyes disappear the longer he held your cheeks in his palms.

“Hi Hobi.” You whisper back, eyes focusing on his.

“Are you okay? You kind of just froze.” He moved some hair out of your face, placing it behind your ear as he watched you.

“It’s nothing. I just, uh, I need to get ready.” You moved out of his grip and returned to rushing to the bathroom, quickly changing your clothes and making sure not to wrinkle it, not wanting Jin’s wrath.

You do your skin care routine, trying to follow the steps that Jimin had Namjoon write out in English for you, but you skip a couple of steps, not wanting anyone to be annoyed that they had to wait on you.

It takes you all of five minutes to get ready, grabbing your small purse holding what you need for the day as you move into the living area, bumping into Yoongi who is munching on a small tangerine.

“Baby, what’s got you in such a rush?” Yoongi’s hands grasp onto your side, steadying you before you fall forward.

Yoongi notices the flush of your face and the way your eyes were red. He knew something was wrong, but he could tell by the way your jaw was clenched that you didn’t want to talk. He wondered if he knew what was wrong, having seen a lot of your past.

“I’m late to meet Hobi’s mom and Jiwoo and I don’t want them to have to wait for me.” Was your simple response, yet it had him confused.

“Why would they be upset with you? Didn’t Hobi tell them that you would be there in an hour?” Yoongi’s eyebrow raised as he walked with you to the couch where Jimin was relaxing, a movie on the large television.

“When we talked yesterday, we promised nine o’clock. That’s when we agreed to meet at the spa.” You muttered, not liking that his questions were making you even more late than you already were. You were becoming anxious, and the two in the room could tell.

Jimin adjusted his position on the couch so he could move to sit behind you, pulling you back into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. You tried to push him away, but he was strong as he held you to him.

Jimin started humming Serendipity, his voice coming out soft as you did what he hoped you would. You started to relax into him, letting your head rest on his chin as he peppered kisses along your jaw.

Jimin sang the song softly a couple of times, making sure that you were truly calm and your heart rate had lowered, no longer feeling it beat against his chest, before pulling away.

“Now baby, you have plenty of time because Hobi’s family isn’t going to be here until after ten, okay? So, sit with me, hmm?” He pulled you with him to lay down on the sofa, your body rested on top of his as he held you close to his chest.

You tried your hardest to be upset with the way Jimin just…rerouted your brain with his voice, but you couldn’t. You had never been able to work yourself out of an anxious spiral before, and you were amazed that he was able to help you stay afloat.

You felt like you were floating, muscles relaxed as you laid on top of your soulmate, his hand on your back, rubbing different patterns and words onto your sweater. Your hand was clinging to his shirt, fist clenched in the fabric as you breathed in his scent. Eyes closed as you listened to him laugh at something done on the tv.

You were so relaxed you didn’t even hear Namjoon open the door to Hobi’s family. His mom, dad, and sister walking through the door and placing their bags down.

You were supposed to be going out with his mom, Eunha, and his sister, Jiwoo, to the spa and lunch before doing some exploring with them. His dad, Hosung, was gonna spend the day with Hobi and Taehyung, who had wanted to join the two in their plans. The others were going to be relaxing as they had their first concert the next day.

“Now, where is our darling daughter at? I can’t wait for our spa day!” Eunha exclaimed, reaching forward to move past her son.

You were slowly moved into a seated position, Jimin doing the hard work and helping you both sit up. He had a smile on his face as he noticed your glazed over expression. Pressing a soft kiss to your lips, he helped you make sure your hair and clothes were nice before helping you stand.

“She’s right here mom!” Jimin hollered, a grin on his lips as Eunha rushed over and brought you into a tight hug. A grunt left your lips at the tightness now around your middle. You slowly brought your arms around Hobi’s mom before Hobi came over.

“Mom…” Hobi let out a warning tone, only for his mom to wave him off.

“I know, I’m sorry. I forgot.” His mom pulls away from you, taking a couple of steps back before noticing how tense your body had become.

“I am sorry for hugging you without asking. My son has told me about your sensory issues and I forgot about them in my excitement. I promise it won’t happen again.” You were absolutely stunned that she had apologized for hugging you. You’ve never had that happen before, and you completely ignored the wording of her sentences, trying to push away the already tense emotional feeling you were experiencing after the flashback of your own mom.

You nodded your head in response, which thankfully didn’t bother the older woman. She just looked at you with a soft expression, her smile permanently etched to her lips as she gestures you forward.

“Well, my daughter, I believe we have a spa appointment to get to.” Eunha talks slowly, remembering that you were still learning the Korean language. You appreciated her actions, reciprocating her smile as you moved forward and put your shoes on, standing in front of the door.

It took about ten minutes for you, Eunha, and Jiwoo to finally leave through the door. The boys were adamant about giving you their own goodbyes, Taehyung and Yoongi especially greedy as they kept pulling kisses from your lips. Namjoon practically had to pull Taehyung from around you, a large pout on his lips as he playfully whined, arms reaching for you as your elder mate pulled him away.

-*-*-

The spa was something you couldn’t have imagined.

It had baths of mud and beds where you could be wrapped in seaweed.

You hadn’t seen anything like it before, and didn’t feel comfortable with new textures, even with your desire to have Hoseok’s family like you. You were still a little anxious that you had kept them waiting, and still was unsure if they were going to be upset with you over it or not.

Yet, Eunha and Jiwoo reminded you of Hobi, their love palpable and their happiness and kindness visible as they smiled at you. You could feel yourself becoming relaxed in their presence, like you belonged with them.

You picked a soft lavender color for your nails, Eunha and Jiwoo choosing the same color with grins on their faces, mischief glowing on their cheeks.

“I want to match with my daughters.” Eunha had spoken in the same soft and slow tone, the nail tech smiling up at her. The spa was a Korean spa, one that Hobi and Yoongi had discovered on one of their exploration trips of the city.

You had felt loved and appreciated, like you belong, and it was a new and different feeling than what you had with your soulmates. This was…like you had family.

“Have you been here before?” Jiwoo asked you as you settled down in a private room at the back of the restaurant. You had been rubbing your hands, the lotion on your skin feeling like oil. You tried to tell the woman you didn’t want the lotion, but it seemed like you fumbled your Korean a bit.

You were originally going to be seated on the balcony of the restaurant, but you were unknowingly followed from the hotel. It seemed that your face was known, and people wanted to know more. This led to Hoseok calling the restaurant and changing the plans a little, sending two more security to accompany the already four you had, Seungho included.

Your pictures were all over army twitter, Namjoon had seen. Some calling for your privacy and others wanting to know more. It was all weird to you and had you feeling like bugs were crawling over your skin, making you remove your sweater to reveal the cream t-shirt and black leggings.

“I haven’t. This is my first time in the city.” You revealed as the waiter came by with the menus. You recognized some items on the menu, but your eyes caught on the option for chicken tenders and French fries, what you called the classic safe food.

You tempered over your options, going with something what was safe or choosing to fit in with Hobi’s family and pick something else. It all came down to how you already felt. Would a new pick trigger your sensory issues and make you melt down? Or would it not affect anything and you go on showing his family that you could fit in with them.

By the time you made your decision, the waiter had already come back with your choice of drinks and his notebook.

“Alright. What can I get for you?”

“I will have the chicken tenders and fries please.” Jiwoo spoke in her bets English, making your eyes widen in shock. You figured she would pick something else. When the waiter looked at you, you just told him you would have the same thing, adding ranch on the side. You didn’t hear what Eunha had picked because Jiwoo moved closer to you.

“I love their chicken tenders. They are so crispy and taste so good!” Jiwoo told you, bouncing a little in her seat, seemingly excited for her order. Hearing her words, your shoulders relaxed and you became way more at ease with everything.

Maybe you were overthinking everything…like normal.

“I am so happy that the boys have found you.” Eunha spoke as soon as the waiter had left, her gaze soft as she watched you sit forward in your seat. Eunha and Jiwoo had spent the entire day hoping that you would feel comfortable around them.

Hoseok had spoken with them, frequently over the years about his soul sight, everything he found out about you, he would confide in them. So, they knew more about you than you did them, unfortunately. Eunha and Jiwoo were aware of your disability and were aware of your wariness around strangers. They had just hoped that the number of times they had video-called with you had eased the tension and made them more familiar to you.

But it was okay, they were patient and had plenty of time to help you become more comfortable with them. They wanted to become your family, wanted to become the people in your corner.

“They all spent years looking for you. Had their eyes practically glued to social media for a long time. Hobi especially went through tiktok, hoping you used your actual picture as your profile picture, or that you posted videos of yourself.” Jiwoo followed her mom’s lead, trying to ease your discomfort.

“He always told us how sweet you were, any little thing you accomplished he would brag to us about it, proud of you.” You had little tears in your eyes now, blinking them away as you listened to them.

“I uh, never thought I would have a soulmate. I didn’t get a bond like that, with any of them. Thought something was wrong with me.” You laughed at yourself, self-deprecatingly as you remembered your years of research.

“I never expected this, any of it. I just wanted to come to the city, a vacation by myself so I didn’t have to stress. But now, I have seven soulmates who love me more than anything in the world. It’s…. like I’m dreaming.” You confess, trying to tell them that you didn’t know, that you didn’t mean to not look for them, thinking that was why they were telling you these things.

“I figure, things will happen when fate deems it to. We are just happy you were able to find your way to them. You don’t ever have to worry about anything with us…we just want you to feel comfortable with us.” Eunha’s hand moved to hold yours, pausing a couple inches from yours as she asked permission before continuing.

“I’m sorry I—�� You paused, realizing that they knew you were uncomfortable.

“It’s okay, honey. We just wanted you to know that we already love you and see you as family.” Eunha’s words have you crying, tears streaming down your cheeks. You try to wipe them away with your palm, but Jiwoo moves, handing you her napkin and helping you so your eyes wouldn’t become puffy. That’s the sight the waiter walked up to, plates of food in hand.

This small moment, Jiwoo helping you and Eunha holding your hand, changed your entire mindset; you felt okay, like you were with people who genuinely cared for you. You were ready to do whatever you could to get the boys’ families to like you, but it seemed like you didn’t have to.

You hadn’t even imagined that their families could have known about you, that the boys had told them all about you, what they knew from the soul bonds. Hadn’t envisioned that their families would have already accepted you and your bond to their boys.

And it had you happy, knowing you didn’t have to mask around them. Didn’t have to create a persona that wasn’t you.

And you relaxed, even began to joke around and laugh with Jiwoo and Eunha as you finished your lunch and walked around outside, exploring your surroundings and taking pictures as you went.

You even took pictures upon Jiwoo’s insistence, her smile having you agree to her whims before you can even blink. A couple pictures of you and Jiwoo, of the three of you together, and then a couple of Eunha, with her arms wrapped around you in a hug.

“I need pictures with my daughter to show my friends.” Was her excuse for extra pictures, making you grin back at her. You didn’t mind, even posting some pictures on your Instagram afterwards, putting a small heart over her face to keep her anonymity like Hobi wanted.

You ended up spending the entire day with them, getting frozen yogurt and buying a couple of things that Jiwoo picked out for you, saying you would look beautiful in them. They were even cotton like you wanted.

It was an amazing day with family.

MC’s Instagram Post:

Next Chapter

[valewritessss]

WHAT CABIN DO YOU THINK THE KOTLC CHARACTERS WOULD BE IN??

OKAY OKAY OKAY IVE BEEN READY FOR THIS ONE

Sophie- photographic memory is giving me Athena child, but she very well could be something else. It’s hard to tell when we’re talking about ability-based bc she has so many. Out of all the characters she’s the one I struggle the most with to assign a cabin

Dex- Hephaestus for obvious reasons, but also because Leo in hoo talks about being left out a lot and the fact that Dex gets less page time than Silveny says lots about that

Biana and Fitz- I think Fitz and Biana would both be Aphrodite kids bc a) they’re siblings so it makes sense for them to be the same cabin and b) it’s constantly mentioned how beautiful they are. I honestly think all of the Vackers would be. If any of them had charmspeak it would definitely be Alvar and maybe Fitz, which would give chance for such good Fitz rage. And like I said in my other post, Biana is a prime example of what the Aphrodite cabin would be like if written correctly and not just handed the “femininity makes me weak” role. She slays literally and figuratively.

Keefe- APOLLO APOLLO APOLLO (not just bc he’s blond just think about it really think about it) I want to explain but I can’t form the words so just think about it plsss

Marella- abilities would make her Hephaestus for sure, some of her personality traits would make her Aphrodite, but i don’t think she’d be a demigod I’d think she’d join the hunters of Artemis. OR OR OR she’s a child of Hephaestus and joins then joins the hunters (I forgot that was an option for a second)

Tam- so I looked into it and child of Hecate seems pretty good? I mean darkness and his ability with shadows is kind of eerie-like, and perfectly fit with Hecate. Also, the ability to control the mist sounds like a Tam thing

Linh- well, we’re all thinking it right? Poseidon. But less of the raging storm more of the gentle ocean waves kissing your feet and occasionally the raging storms. Like a touch of sadness and sorrow but easy to see the beauty in it so it’s not scary. Idk if that made sense Im spewing words here.

Wylie- I was thinking maybe Athena because he sees reason, you know? And I read Kotlc a very long time ago so I don’t remember much about him. He had that studious vibe to him idk. I’m going purely based off of feels rn😭

Stina- Nemesis. Okay okay, here me out. Girly holds her grudges, she’s a little mean, but she doesn’t let that stop her from helping Silveny whatever the motive may be. And if we’re thinking story wise, it’s like Ethan Nakamura if you squint but it’s there I can’t explain it. Seems bad, can be bad, but she’s proof that it’s never 100% bad, people have layers, like an onion

Maruca- Ares, and the reason is because she’s pretty bluntly honest, and she’s hella determined. Ares kids are mostly seen to be very frank, and that fits her perfectly. And her determination is a trait we can see in Clarisse(most of the time in the form of stubbornness, ahem, refusing to fight) but ofc in their world everything is sunshine and rainbows so determination, not stuborness. In all seriousness I mean determination because it fits her more than stubbornness but they’re similar traits. Idk I’m getting off topic

Those were all the characters I could think of at the top of my head and if you disagree with any let me know I just did these for fun nothing serious

I would love it if anyone wants to send me characters that I didn’t do and ill give them a cabin😊

[dufferpuffer]

~~ Looking at Lycanthropy ~~

Part 3: Regarding the 'Full Moon'...

There is something fucky with the transformation night in POA. I'm going to fine-toothed comb it, collect the extra information we get about Lycanthropy from it – and try to make sense of it all.

Looking at Lycanthropy (all parts)

Words: Approx. 4000

Physical Symptoms (What he feels; what he does; what happens - factual.) Perceived Symptoms (How he seems to others, health focused) Social Perception (What people think of him; His social situation) Self Perception (What he thinks about himself) Timing Information Potion information

NIGHT OF THE TRANSFORMATION – Chapters 17 - 21 Note that there is adrenaline, stress, secrets, emotions whipping back and forth – dialogue is split between seven characters. Describing Lupin's symptoms takes a back-seat to exposition. For example: Lupin looking 'pale' in a quiet moment on the train is one thing... but in a high tension situation? It's more likely to be the mood of the setting rather than describing his illness. But I am listing his more erratic behaviour anyway. B^)

Chapter 17

Pg 244 + 245 The very last rays of the sun were casting a bloody light over the long-shadowed grounds. … … Light was fading fast now by the time they reached open ground, darkness was settling like a spell around them. … … But harry had just seen - slinking towards them, his body low to the ground, wide yellow eyes glinting eerily in the darkness - Crookshanks. … … Something was bounding towards them out of the dark - an enormous, pale-eyed, jet-black dog.

The sun is setting – and has set – long before Remus arrives. Interesting. More on this later.

pg 252 The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Harry wheeled around as Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering near to the door, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet. 'Expelliarmus!' Lupin shouted. Harry's wand flew once more out of his hand; so did the two Hermione was holding. … … Then Lupin spoke, in an odd voice, a voice that shook with some suppressed emotion. 'Where is he, Sirius?'

Remus barges into a room with Sirius, three children and supposedly Peter. He doesn't know whether Sirius or Peter are guilty – but he puts the safety of the children last by taking their wands and speaking to Sirius when there is at least one murderer in the room.

pg 253 'Hermione, listen to me, please!' Lupin shouted. 'I can explain-' … … There was a ringing silence. Everyone's eyes were now on Lupin, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale. … … Ron made a valiant effort to get up again, but fell back with a whimper of pain. Lupin made towards him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped, 'Get away from me, werewolf!' Lupin stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort, he turned to Hermione and said, 'How long have you known?' 'Ages,' Hermione whispered. 'Since I did Professor Snape's essay...' 'He'll be delighted.' said Lupin cooly. 'He set that essay hoping someone would realise what my symptoms meant. Did you check the lunar chart and realise I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realise the Boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?' 'Both,' Hermione said quietly. Lupin forced a laugh.

Remus is about to have his secret revealed – and for the first time shouts at the children. He is understandably terrified of them knowing, but as soon as its out returns right back to a forced, controlled calm... but the mask has slipped, and we can see underneath at his true feelings. Note that Ron's initial reaction is prejudice, like his mother.

pg 254 'You know how to work it?' Harry asked suspiciously. 'Of course I know how to work it,' said Lupin, waving his hand impatiently. 'I helped write it. I'm Moony - that was my friends' nickname for me at school.' … … 'How d'you know about the Cloak?' 'The number of times I saw James disappearing under it ...' said Lupin, waving an impatient hand again.

Harry is giving him a moment to explain himself, but he acts like THIS whenever asked a reasonable question...? Remus is waffling on about himself instead of Sirius, Peter – or making the kids safe. He is explaining what he feels is most important first: himself. Clawing back the trust and control he just lost instead of prioritizing the kids, or Sirius, or Peter.

Chapter 18

pg 256 'Sirius, NO!' Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from Ron again, 'WAIT! You can't do it just like that - they need to understand - we've got to explain -'

Lupin intends to commit kill on the rat – even though doing so would probably sentence him to Azkaban, or straight to a Kiss. He is ready to throw his life away but not before he makes sure the kids 'understand' him. There is a murderer in the room, one Lupin intends to kill – and yet he is prioritizing his image...? Also he is strong enough to hold a skinny, thin Sirius back. Not too surprising – so was a cat.

pg 257 Then Hermione spoke, in a trembling, would-be calm sort of voice, as though trying to will Professor Lupin to talk sensibly. 'But Professor Lupin ... Scabbers can't be Pettigrew ... it just can't be true, you know it can't...' 'Why can't it be true?' Lupin said calmly, as though they were in class, and Hermione had simply spotted a problem in an experiment with Grindylows.

Hermione I am sorry he is too far gone right now. Unreasonable.

pg 258 'The Shrieking Shack was never haunted... the screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me.'He pushed his greying hair out of his eyes, thought for a moment, then said, 'That's where all of this starts - with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten... and if I hadn't been so foolhardy...'He looked sober and tired.

The noises a werewolf makes are more similar to ghosts than wolves. He blames himself for... everything. Peter being a rat and a nasty git. Life would be good if he wasn't a werewolf? Ok, bro. Nice self loathing you've got there.

'I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The Potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform... I am able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again.' 'Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me.'

- He was a very young boy when bitten – and survived. We know that being bitten is no small matter, that another small boy has died from it. He is lucky, too, that his parents kept/stood by him. - Wolfsbane is not a cure – but it is a cure to the lack of control from it. (More on that in part 5). By calling it a cure, it is like he values the control it gives him most of all and wants the children to think of him as cured, at least cured from being dangerous... ...despite missing his dose today. - Wolfsbane 'makes him safe'; 'keeps his mind'; 'curls up in his office' a 'harmless waiting wolf'. How safe is a 'harmless wolf'...? How much of his mind does he keep...? Something more than a 'fully fledged monster', I suppose... - He couldn't expect to come to Hogwarts because other people would not accept him. While that is true – we know there are laws. We know he is the ONLY werewolf to have attended Hogwarts despite Fenrir making a point to bite children. There is a little more going on than just 'parent mad'. I think it is safe to say he is being hyperbolic. That he is a 'monster' normally, that he is 'a harmless wolf' on the potion, he couldn't go to school for a silly little reason like 'grown-ups hate him'... it's him pleading with the kids. He isn't lying but he is playing it up/down.

One piece of information I want to point out here: he 'curls up in his office, a harmless wolf, to wait for the moon to wane again'. Whether he wants to or not, whether he closes all the curtains and hides under the desk: He WILL transform.

pg 259 'My transformations in those days were - were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits.' … … 'And they didn't desert me at all. Instead they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi.'

First of all: jesus christ... werewolves scream like ghosts, like people. Second: Best times of his life. I wanna bring this up in a post about Patronus', why his is a wolf: Being a werewolf itself, when free to wander, seems to be a positive experience.

pg 260 'They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals,' said Lupin. 'A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James's Invisibility Cloak. ... Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them.'

He is lying here – or oversimplifying – because he told Hagrid he didn't 'eat anything last night', as in didn't eat Buckbeak. There is something more going on that made being an Animagi safe. Something that, when running around with other 'human intelligent' animals, increased his capacity for control and intelligent thought. He no longer self-harmed when he had a 'pack'.

'Soon we were roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check.' … … 'That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?''A thought that still haunts me,' said Lupin heavily. 'And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless - carried away with our own cleverness.'

A stag and/or a large dog is similar in strength to a well-fed teenage werewolf... but not enough to ensure safety. The thought of losing control, of those near misses, haunts him... though he is about to have some near misses damn soon. He is being reckless again right now.

pg 261 'He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job, when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am.'

Thankful to have a job – it's unheard of to knowingly hire a werewolf.

Chapter 19

pg 263 'I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow,' said Snape, throwing the Cloak aside, careful to keep his wand pointing at directly at Lupin's chest. 'Very useful, Potter, I thank you...' 'I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your Potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along.'

Severus has just been to Remus' office. Remus didn't enter the Willow until it was already dark - and has spent a chapter and a half yapping. Severus felt confident entering Remus' office when the sun had set. Maybe he was just that desperate to reach him in the nick of time...? But Severus didn't bring the goblet with him to the Willow, even knowing the children were there. He has been antsy about Remus' Lycanthropy all year – but isn't forcing it down his throat...? He is far more concerned with Remus' actions as a human traitor then the potential of him being a wolf tonight. The invisibility cloak likely wouldn't work against a werewolf – but even if it did, sneaking around listening to Remus blabber on for minutes on end is hardly the actions of someone who thinks a transformation is potentially imminent.

'Two more for Azkaban tonight,' said Snape, his eyes now gleaming fanatically. 'I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this... he was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin... a tame werewolf...' pg 264/265 'Come on, all of you,' he said. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew into his hands. 'I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him, too –' … … 'Dont ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works,' hissed Snape.

A tame werewolf sounds like a joke to 'regular' people. They are considered, in some way, mentally unwell. Severus has bound Remus in magical cords – but I doubt that would be effective if he transformed. If they were then dealing with werewolves would be as simple as binding them. He is emotionally unstable, but being reasonable: immobilizing the threats and shepherding the children to safety. I doubt he, of anyone, would slip up so badly as to allow Remus to transform... which means he doesn't expect him to transform on the way to the castle.

pg 273 'Shall we kill him together?' 'Yes, I think so,' said Lupin grimly.

Lupin is so calm about killing Peter for revenge, even though it'll almost certainly get both him and Sirius put in Azkaban – if not Kissed, like Severus suggested. This is essentially a suicidal move. His last wish is for the children to understand him, and his motives, are more than monstrous.

pg 275 'You should have realised,' said Lupin quietly. 'If Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Goodbye, Peter.' … … 'Very well,' said Lupin. 'Stand aside, Harry.' Harry hesitated. 'I'm going to tie him up,' said Lupin. 'That's all, I swear.'

He changed his mind fast. Harry's opinion is more important to him. Honestly it's not too surprising, he is following other people... but it makes his readiness to have his life ended for revenge seem... passive. Casual. Dying for a 'good' reason? Cool. Sirius being hot-and-cold is fair, he's a prison escapee with no future, following his loyalty to James and now to Harry... Remus? Remus just had one of the best years of his life. But he never expects good times to last long, anyway. Harry and his friends know his secret now...

Chapter 20

pg 278 'A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in moonlight. ... Harry could see Lupin's silhouette. He had gone rigid. Then his limbs began to shake.

...So it is bonkers that his transformation is working like this, considering everything we know. Full Moonlight is triggering it and was blocked by... a cloud. Walls. Severus, Remus and Hermione all would have known it was a Full Moon - and that he forgot his potion. I can understand Remus and Hermione momentarily forgetting in all the hubbub the fact he was walking out into bare night... apart from the fact that transforming isn't an option for werewolves, nor will simply hiding indoors save them. We know that they will transform no matter what.

It doesn't make much sense – but I will go through it a little later. For now: Moonlight triggers it.

pg 279 There was a terrible snarling noise. Lupin's head was lengthening. So was his body. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws. Crookshanks's fur was on end again, he was backing away - As the werewolf reared, snapping its long jaws, Sirius disappeared from Harry's side. He had transformed. The enormous, bear-like dog bounded forwards. As the werewolf wrenched itself free of the manacle binding it, the dog seized it about the neck and pulled it backwards, away from Ron and Pettigrew. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at eachother - … … Too late. Pettigrew had transformed. Harry saw his bald tail whip through the manacle on Ron's outstretched arm, and heard a scurrying through the grass. There was a howl and a rumbling growl; Harry turned to see the werewolf taking flight; it was galloping into the Forest - 'Sirius, hes gone, Pettigrew transformed!' Harry yelled.

Werewolf Transformation: Go rigid; Limbs shake; Snarl (sharp intake/exhale of air from pain?); Head lengthens into long jaws; Body lengthens (this means werewolves are larger than humans rather wolf-sized); Shoulders hunch over; Hair (fur?) sprouts on face and hands (perhaps everywhere but his clothes are still covering him); Hands curl into paws. The transformation is working body and head first – then out to the extremities. One skinny man, turned into a large dog, is enough to battle a thin werewolf man – though the reason Remus runs isn't clear. Is it to get away from Sirius, because Sirius is hurting him? It seems a little unlikely he would be so distracted from all the humans he could bite... unless the amount of potion he has had helps keep his mind clear. Clear enough to chase after Peter, perhaps...? In any case, he didn't remain injured in the morning. - Werewolves, along with human-like screams, howl, snarl and growl.

Chapter 21

pg 295 She looked nervously over her shoulder into the depths of the Forest. The sun was setting now. … … They moved around the edge of the Forest, darkness falling thickly around them, until they were hidden behind a clump of trees through which they could make out the Willow. 'There's Ron!' said Harry suddenly.

More proof of timing – it was nighttime before Remus showed up.

pg 296 'Here comes Lupin!' said Harry, as they saw another figure sprinting down the stone steps and haring towards the Willow. Harry looked up at the sky. Clouds were obscuring the moon completely.

I wonder if he was running partially because he saw the clouds were covering the moon – and he knew as long as he got to the shack in time he would be safe while inside...?

pg 298 And then, at last, after over an hour... 'Here we come!' Hermione whispered.

They were in the long tunnel from the Willow to the Shack for a long time. It was night before they even went in, and nobody felt at all concerned while they were coming out how much time had passed.

~~~ MY THOUGHTS:

So... after the sun had already gone down, but the moon was covered by clouds, Remus ran outside and to the Willow/Shack – in order to confront a murderer hiding there with the kids. He was understandably emotional, but selfishly put himself first: over the kids, Sirius and Peter, wasting time trying to regain trust and respect... despite knowing he had missed his potion. He showed no real concern of the upcoming/current Full Moon – and neither did Hermione.

Severus only thought to bring Remus his potion after sunset and didn't think to bring it to the shack in any sort of emergency situation. He treated Remus as a traitor, not as a wolf – and was willing to drag him back to the castle, through the night. Even he didn't show much concern for the upcoming/current Full Moon, despite through the year being meticulous in his care and glancing anxiously at him when the Full Moon approaches.

However, as soon as Remus walked outside – bound to Peter and an injured child – he transformed the moment a cloud moved and moonlight hit him directly.

Maybe it is understandable to have momentarily forgotten about the danger... but then again, he didn't feel it coming at all...? They are floating Severus behind them who JUST reminded him he didn't have his potion. He has been talking about his Lycanthropy for an hour.

How could he forget? How could they all forget? How could they be so calm on the Full Moon...?

My theory: It wasn't the Full Moon.

We know being a werewolf isn't quite a binary: - You can be 'contaminated' – only showing some symptoms. - Something anyone can tell about Fenrir Greyback it's that he is a bit more 'Wolf' than 'Were' - However, nobody could tell Remus was anything but chronically ill. Most importantly: - You get sicker the closer it is to the Full Moon, even during the day.

It's like the magic from the reflected light of the moon gets more saturated in the atmosphere as the moon waxes... until your body reaches a breaking point and, no matter where you are (like in your office) you transform. But perhaps that process can be sped up – by saturating yourself in direct near-full moonlight?

A premature transformation. It is the night before the Full Moon.

'Premature transformations under direct late waxing gibbous moonlight' Theory:

As it's not the forced transformation at the peak of the Full Moon it's not talked about as often. It's rare to encounter – but not unheard of or surprising. It is still a 'Full Moon' in a way, after all: The moon looks 'Full' for three or so days and is only truly 'full' for a moment.

If werewolves transformed the MOMENT it was truly Full, then there would be months where they transformed during the day. But if they DID transform during the day, then it still doesn't make sense that nobody is worrying about the Full Moon tonight: They would know when the true Full Moon is. They're Wizards.

This can ONLY mean that werewolves don't transform at the true Full Moon, probably only transform at night (when Direct sunlight doesn't drown out reflected Moonlight) and there is a little more going on than just "Full Moon touched me :^( ick". - Most werewolves hide away, already feeling unwell. They aren't going outside pre-Full Moon... so they don't transform. - Perhaps even those eager to transform would rather save their strength for the true Full Moon...? Perhaps it is a weaker transformation (couldn't even beat up a skinny ass dog) so even violent werewolves avoid it? - Maybe they still have a second transformation – Remus did want to leave the school terribly quickly the next day... so he didn't transform there a second night? It's said multiple times they transform ONCE a month... but maybe that's just because most avoid prematurely transforming? - People misunderstand key things about werewolves anyway, like the fact they are humans and not half-breeds. Remembering only the basics, 'Full Moon forced transformation', feels accurate. - Since Wizards are so Astronomy focused, things like the 'true Full Moon' vs 'nights where it's almost full' is already on their minds. The difference between “Late Waxing Gibbous” and “Full Moon” could be the difference between a potent potion or a watery failure. There is no way they're mistaking what moon cycle it is unless drunk. - Remus' Boggart is the Full Moon – because the Boggart thinks he will be scared of transforming – but there is more merit to that if Remus could turn prematurely under strong moonlight.

If the next night was the true Full Moon – then it makes sense that: - Severus was calm about it, not even thinking to bring the potion as an emergency. If Remus was a traitor he was going to Azkaban tonight anyway – who cares about his penultimate goblet...? - Remus wasn't too worried about transforming. He was safe while in the shack, ran while there was cloud cover... he was just distracted when leaving, head full of Peter, Sirius, guilt and worry. - Hermione didn't mention it. She knows when the Full Moon is – it's not tonight. - The night be cloudy. Some planning, maybe even something as simple as covering Remus' skin with a thick cloak, could be enough to prevent his transformation. Tie him up, throw a cloak on him, make sure the moon is covered and drag him to the castle... fair plan.

Nobody was surprised that it happened, and yet nobody thought about it beforehand.

Big moon dangerous – werewolf go brr.

[lovewireds]

Sonic 3 thoughts / review thing under cut

Day-After memories be nice /silly

tl;dr: maybe my expectations were low BUT ITS SO FUCKING GOOD HELLO 9/10 only a point away from 10 bc of the typical sonic movie problems. sibling cried about 50 times throughout the movie /hyp

obvi i hate all thr copaganda in the paramount sonic movies (its paramount what do you expect /lh) but them doing the BARE MINIMUM of making sonic not blindly trust G.U.N. after hearing a snippet of shadow's story ?? like telling tails "we're NOT trusting them until we get more answers" Ok Now make your dad and uncle or whatever resign from the police force Sonic! Please <- coping

ALL THE SCENES WITH MARIA AND SHADOW BEING SIBLINGS ARE AMAZING I FUCKING LOVE THAT SO MUCH 😭😭AAAEUEURUEUEEURUU theyre so sibling. im so happy and joyous.

i'm kinda sad they got rid of the "shadow's purpose was to help cure maria's terminal illness" plot line. i don't think there's any implication she's chronically ill, even if not terminal? like i LOVE when ppl hc shadow as her emotional support alien or something to help with her illness, going that route more explicitly would've been awesome. like he still has the pain from losing his sister, but a major part of his trauma is the feeling that his only purpose never got fulfilled—Maria was terminally ill but died of completely preventable causes.

robotnik's npd coding really hit home this time; tossing aside the only person whos ever been there for him because he got familial attention, completely cutting off stone because he showed distrust in their plan?? hands in my pockets. god, eggman npd autism. none of you understand how much they mean to me as someone w/ suspected npd, they have a certain npd chosen person connection i canot explain to persotypical ppl

also the opening SA2 sonic line misses its hit when he's not, like..Sonic giving a silly one-liner slightly dissing on how incompetent the military is. 😭 does that make sense??? Like in movie they technically went on the helicopter of their own free will, i would be more down with it if they were blatantly threatened .? like G.U.N. has done before?? Like it misses WHY sonic said it, it's just mindless reference & felt forced as fuck LOL

LIKE the super scene hits because it has the same / similar hit to why SA2 was so impactful! i have a sp/in in sonic so im not immune to "THATS THE THING I KNOW" pointing at the screen with a big smile BUT direct references should be done for story impact rather than "that's the line" like the thing above; Shadow helping to save earth after coming to terms with trauma and such, fighting alongside Sonic after so long of Shadow feeling alone, striking a cool ass pose with him with some lighthearted bickering—THATS IMPACTFUL!! it's not just "THATS THE THING I KNOW THEY DID THE POSE" it's showing shadow's growth :) that goes for the use of live and learn, too! live and learn, you may never find your way 💖

ALSO the next movie is gonna be based on sonic CD it looks like !! im genuinely rlly excited to figure out how they work with that, considering all the future & past time warps being a major part of the game? i think it'd be a good idea to bring sonic '06 into the mix either the next movie or the movie after that, silver coming in during the whole time shenanigans would make sense!! maybe a good time to reveal shadows been alive and formed team dark in his own time bc i doubt they'd make a whole movie or miniseries for that? unless the next movie is gonna b based on sonic CD and sonic heroes...but amy should get her spotlight for a bit

[practically-an-x-man]

14, 23, and/or 24 for Nikoletta for the cuddle prompts?

Ooooh yes!! Thank you so much!

14. cuddles after being touch-starved 23. snuggling up to them when they're cold 24. cuddles of reassurance (Cuddle & Snuggle Prompts)

____ Fever Chills

Word Count: 2.0k Content Warnings: Sickfic, emotional hurt/comfort, domestic fluff

Crossposted on AO3 ____

Sometimes it seemed like one of them was always sick.

It seemed to alternate between them: she got the flu, then Abner caught it from her, then her shadows returned and purging them left her bedridden for three days, then his dots flared up and left him just as sick the following week...

And now it was right back to her.

Nikoletta knew, logically, things would sort themselves out soon enough. Their immune systems were fighting to adjust to an environment that wasn't prison for the first time in years. Their first foray out of prison had come from an incredibly demanding mission that included several nights sleeping on the floor of the open jungle, not to mention contact with far too many rats. They were finally learning to release decades of pent-up stress, which led to its own sort of physical crumbling. She'd always heard things would get worse before they got better, but this was the first time in her life when she was safe enough to truly experience it.

So far, she wasn't a fan.

Maybe it was another bout of the flu. Maybe it was some aftereffect of her shadows. Maybe it was just the karmic rebound of all the stress she'd started to let go of. In all likeliness, it was a combination of the three.

Whatever it was, it left her feverish and shaky and utterly miserable, and Nikoletta prayed for the day it was over.

She trudged into the kitchen with a blanket tucked around her shoulders, shaking so hard she could hardly keep herself upright. Her posture was hunched, like an old woman wrapped in her shawls, and she nearly dropped her coffee mug when she reached to pull it from the cupboard.

It didn't matter. She could hold herself up. She'd held herself up through ten years of Belle Reve, through all the injuries and illnesses and everything else that contained, and this was hardly Belle Reve. She only had to be up long enough to make herself a cup of tea, and then she could crawl back into bed and be miserable there instead.

"What are you doing?"

Abner's quiet voice came from the doorway behind her, and Nikoletta jumped before she could help it. She'd gotten better about that, she really had, but something about her present illness sharpened those old blades all the same.

"Making tea." she mumbled, leaning against the counter and watching the mug spin around inside the microwave. She didn't have the energy to boil it the proper way - not that it really made a difference in her eyes, hot water was hot water and the microwave did it a hell of a lot faster.

"You're sick," he said, with the same careful, gentle tone, "You should be in bed. I can make it for you."

"It'll take two minutes. I'm fine."

Warm hands caught her arms and tried to gingerly steer her away from the microwave. Instead she shrugged him off- and regretted it the moment she did, but buried the emotion with a grimace.

"I said I'm fine."

Abner went silent for a moment too long, and icy self-hatred clutched her heart. She'd promised herself, months ago, that she wouldn't be sharp with him the way so many others were sharp with him. And then here she was with those old habits, the austere performance she'd kept up for so long, pushing her discomfort onto him in a way he didn't deserve. It was liable to make him shut down, and that made her feel worse than any illness could.

The microwave beeped, and with rough motions she retrieved her mug and tore open a tea packet. The tea bag inside slipped through her trembling fingers before she could drop it in the mug, and Nikoletta watched it slide pitifully to the bottom of the kitchen sink.

Something about the sight, her one tiny attempt at making herself feel better only ruined by her own treacherous fingers, threatened to send her into tears. Instead she just slumped over the countertop, utterly defeated. She was so cold it felt like her tear ducts had frozen. She couldn't have cried even if she wanted to. Her body refused to grant her that release.

Abner's arms slid around her waist from behind, drawing her in against his slim chest. Nikoletta couldn't help but melt into the warmth, those agonized shudders easing for the first time in days.

"Nik," he murmured, leaning over to rest his chin on her shoulder, "Please go to bed."

She let out a trembling breath, trying to let him steady her. He had such a way of doing that. She hardly understood it. Somehow, he knew exactly how to make her slow down, to soften the armor and melt the ice, like nobody else had ever known to do for her before.

Part of her still wanted to pull away, to shoulder her burdens alone as she'd always done, to let her pride win out.

The rest of her just wanted to go to bed. She felt like shit.

Nikoletta nodded against Abner's shoulder, and he gently released his hold on her. The shivers returned almost immediately, with the loss of his warmth, but she did her best to push her discomfort aside. Abner trailed her as she began to trudge slowly back towards the bedroom.

"Do you want me to walk with you?"

"No, I'm-" she started, then swallowed the words and tried again, "It's not far. I can manage. Thank you."

"Okay." he said, "I'll be right there."

He started to draw back, then seemed to catch a brief ripple of courage and ducked in to kiss her cheek. Despite the shivers, the horrible ache in her joints, the indescribably unpleasant heavy feeling that came with illness, Nikoletta found a faint smile crossing her face.

She reached the bedroom and slid into bed, tucking herself into a tight ball under the covers. It didn't offer her any scrap of warmth - it only made her feel like some weak, scared child hiding from her nightmares. It made her think of STAR Labs, tucked under the thin sheets of her cot in the same way to shield herself from the cameras and the new unshakeable chill beneath her skin. The memories were nearly as bad as the cold itself. But even the slightest movement made her skin erupt with painful pins and needles, so there she stayed.

After a while one of the cats hopped up onto the bed and wormed its way under the covers with her. That made her feel a little better, in some small way. She'd never had pets in her prior lives - not indoor pets, at least, though she fed the strays whenever she had scraps to spare - and Baron's soft black fur was its own sort of tether to the present. Abner had been right about adopting them. It helped.

She heard Abner enter the room a few minutes later, the old flooring creaking under his shuffling footsteps, but he paused in the doorway. Nikoletta guessed that he wasn't sure how to engage with her: what to say, or even whether to speak at all, whether to come up to her or whether she'd startle from not being able to see his entrance. Nikoletta had just begun to shift when she heard him speak, softly and gently as always.

"I brought you some tea. Are you still awake?"

"Too cold to sleep," she mumbled, finally forcing herself to emerge from her cocoon. Her eyes fell on Abner still standing in the doorway, holding her coffee mug in both hands as if it were a small bird. He took a few steps closer when he found her eyes on him, and stiffly held the mug out to her. There was an odd tension in his posture- but then again, there almost always was.

Nikoletta took the mug and curled around it, taking a grateful sip and feeling warmth bloom all down to her chest. When the heat of the liquid subsided, she caught notes of a shockingly tangy taste - not the cheap store-brand stuff she kept in the cupboard, that was for damn sure.

"This isn't the tea from the tea bags," she remarked, only thinking to catch her words when she saw Abner's face fall.

"You don't like it?"

"No, it's- I do. It's good. Thank you."

"My mom used to make it for us when we got sick. When we were little. Before she... before things got bad." he said, ducking her eyes, "It's got honey in it. And mint."

She took a second sip, now finding another reason to be comforted. It wasn't just about the tea, or the fact that he'd spared her his own time and energy to make it. It was a piece of his heart, a rare good memory from his childhood, something he could easily have hoarded for himself- and deserved to hoard for himself, when good memories were so rare. But instead he shared it with her, however vulnerable that was, took a symbol of comfort from his past and made it an object of his care in the present.

She'd have to figure out the recipe once she was feeling a little better. If it meant enough to him that he'd share it with her...

Nikoletta stretched a hand out and patted the mattress beside her.

"Will you- um, will you warm me up?"

That was about the only way she could make herself phrase it. Anything else felt... strange, somehow both too intimate and not intimate enough, and she couldn't manage that just yet. It was hard enough just to ask to be held, as much as she longed for it.

But Abner knew her well, and for that she hardly had to speak at all.

He slid into the bed beside her, careful not to disturb her mug of tea as he wrapped his arms around her. There were times when he really did remind her of the street cats she used to feed as a child, and this was one of those. They were such particular creatures - half of them were so unsocialized to humans they didn't even know to meow, and they hardly understood how to react to a comforting touch at first, but deep down many of them were just as affectionate as the posh, well-groomed purebreds she saw peering out of city windows.

Abner was a lot like those cats. He didn't know how to initiate, the motions were awkward and the words were halting, but he cared more than anyone she'd ever known.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," Nikoletta mumbled, grimacing against a swell of the same bitter regret, "You deserve better- I want to be better, I'm trying, I just..."

"You're hurting, Nik. It's okay."

She wanted to protest - it wasn't okay, he'd had to shoulder cruelty from everyone in his life and she promised herself she wouldn't push the same on him - but simply swallowed the words and ducked her head against Abner's shoulder. Her fingers fidgeted with the mug in her lap.

"I hate being sick," she sighed, still curling in closer against him in the hopes that she could finally chase that terrible chill from deep in her bones, "It just... makes everything so much worse. I don't know if it's the shadows, or just my body, or... what else, but I just feel like I'm falling apart."

"I know how that feels." he agreed, and leaned his head against her own - like those near-feral strays, she thought again. "But that's why we have each other. Right?"

What happens when we both get sick, then? she thought, What happens when we both break down at the same time? Who makes the tea then? Who scoops out the litter boxes? Who picks up the mail?

And to her surprise, an answer came almost immediately.

Harley. Cleo. Rick. Even DuBois- he'd bitch about it, but he'd be there. Our friends.

It was strange to think that she had someone she could trust like that. It was strange to think that she had five.

"Yeah." she murmured, and drew the mug to her lips for another sip, "That's why we have each other."

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 27

Graythroat returns to camp with a bleeding tail and stories of a dead fox.

[Image ID: Graythroat stands proud while the text under her reads + CONDITION: BITE WOUND. Fennelspot and Downstar sit together in the upper corner.]

Downstar was not supposed to be so cooperative.

Fennelspot was only a couple moons younger than Downstar, so he vividly remembered how she plagued his apprenticeship; spunky and wild Downpaw would limp into the medicine den with scraps and bruises from her latest misadventure, with Shadowsun sighing behind her. At first, Fennelspot’s mentor Yellowflower gladly treated her, but she was in the medicine den so much, she finally said that young Fennelpaw would treat Downpaw for whatever injury or illness she brought in. It prepared Fennelspot well for being Downstar’s first cleric and for caring for her equally troublesome children.

Fennelspot remembered when Downstar broke a rib not long before he got his full name. No matter how much he insisted she had to rest, she wouldn’t stay in her nest, insisting she could watch over the nursery or guard camp or do whatever it was she thought interesting at the time. That was just her way. Now, though…

Downstar spent most of her time in her den, resting. When Fennelspot entered to check her leg or help her exercise, Downstar listened without fuss. She groomed her leg, kept it still, and took whatever advice Fennelspot gave her without question.

Something was deeply wrong with Downstar.

Fennelspot was deep in his worries as he placed a new splint on Downstar’s leg when suddenly, a manic laugh broke through camp. Both Fennelspot and Downstar’s heads snapped up as the strange laugh drew closer. Fennelspot left Downstar’s den just as others in the camp, in the midst of naps or sharing tongues, looked out of their dens to find the source of the odd sound.

“Hali!” the source of the laugh yowled. “Shadow! You won’t believe it!” Graythroat marched into camp with wild eyes and a tall tail. Foreign blood smeared her muzzle while her own dribbled down her legs from a huge wound on her tail. 

“Graythroat, what did you do?” Fennelspot gasped. He ran at Graythroat and forced her to a stop. RippleClan gathered behind him, staring at Graythroat’s bloody face. Halibutdusk and Shadowdrop pushed through the crowd, standing on either side of their sister.

“What did I do?” Graythroat laughed, flicking her tail as though it wasn’t bleeding profusely. “What did I do? Let me tell you, I killed a fox!” She cackled once more, giving Fennelspot just enough time to shove her flank down and pin her tail for a better look at the wound.

“You killed a fox?” Rattlepaw gasped, peeking out from behind Rabbitjoy and Carnationspeckle.

“Gray…” Halibutdusk gulped. The young warrior studied Fennelspot as he groomed the blood around Graythroat’s wound. It was no doubt a fox bite; Fennelspot didn’t know another creature with such a long mouth and sharp punctures. Still, Graythroat must have thrashed her tail hard in the fox’s grasp. There were multiple smaller bites that tore across the skin.

“There I was,” Graythroat said, ducking slightly as though stalking through the forest, “enjoying some time alone, when I see the biggest, fattest, reddest fox I have ever seen in my life, just mouse-lengths from the border!”

“Graythroat, you’ve only ever seen one fox,” Halibutdusk sighed.

“It was outside our territory?” Shadowdrop asked. 

“I wasn’t going to let it come in,” Graythroat scoffed. “It was the greatest fight of our generation. Our fangs dug into each other, we tumbled to and through—”

“And you can keep telling the story once I treat your wound!” Fennelspot snapped. “StarClan knows what diseases a fox could have. Medicine den, now.” Graythroat groaned, tilting her head back as far as it could go. Still, she obeyed (with a nudge from Halibutdusk). 

As Fennelspot led Graythroat (and most of the Clan) to the medicine den, he caught Downstar’s eyes shining from her den. Fennelspot should have been snapping at her to rest her leg as she made sure Graythroat was okay, or at least question her as to why she would attack a fox who had done nothing wrong. But Downstar was still. She just watched Graythroat bleed. Fennelspot had been aware of Graythroat’s issues for a while, but Downstar… 

She scared him.

(Fennelspot: 84, male, cleric, insecure, trusted advisor, incredible runner)

(Downstar: 86, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Graythroat: 19, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor)

(Rattlepaw: 10, female, artisan apprentice, insecure, plays with prey)

(Halibutdusk: 19, male, warrior, gloomy, great storyteller, clever)

(Shadowdrop: 19, male, codekeeper, sneaky, eloquent speaker, good teacher)

Rattlepaw teaches Carnationspeckle and Oilstripe a special dance in the water.

[Image ID: Rattlepaw waits for Carnationspeckle and Oilstripe as Carnationspeckle says “I’ll dance if she will!” Under Carnationspeckle, it says LEVEL UP! TALENTED SWIMMER -> FISH-LIKE SWIMMER. Under Oilstripe, it says LEVEL UP! GHOST SIGHT -> GHOST SPEAKER.]

(Rattlepaw: 10, female, artisan apprentice, insecure, plays with prey)

(Carnationspeckle: 29, female, caretaker, compassionate, fish-like swimmer)

(Oilstripe: 31, female, historian, charismatic, ghost speaker)

[aita-blorbos]

[OC AITA (yep, same anon from the gas chambers one, highly recommend reading that one first, here's the link: https://www.tumblr.com/aita-blorbos/729589462028419072/oc-aita-anon-so-hopefully-no-one-finds-all-those?source=share, also my phone died in the middle of this ask so I'm rewriting it now at 11PM, sorry for any confusing parts, Octonine can explain later)]

Content Warnings: cult mention, internalized ableism and saneism, repressed memories, description of corpses, drugs, less-than-scientific experiments, bullying, self-harm, suicidal ideation, child... "death"? i guess..., oh and also it's a horror story.

AITA for accidentally "killing" a child?

That sounds horrible but let me give some context:

I (adult M), my brother B (also adult M) and my friend P (adult F) are cult survivors and recently we created an orphanage/child therapy clinic after P's Psychology graduation. We wanted to help mentally ill kids like we once were, giving them a safe and supportive space we didn't have.

Since we started this, me and B had problems with some of the children, mostly the ones that that cult taught us were "impure", so I started trying to, y'know, confront that. The problem is, differently from B, my memories of that era were really repressed after our escape years ago, which you can guess it's hard to confront your past and your mentality when you can't remember it.

P suggested that I tried doing therapy with her, but I needed something more immediate, so I got an idea... that could have gone really badly... and I guess it did turn out like this... I went back to the ruins of that cult's "house" and found the hidden backroom in the debris. The sight of the abandoned carbonized corpses of the ones who "ascended" unlocked some of my memories, but that was not what I was searching for.

Then I found it, the "mind powder", the same one we used to access our mind realms, surely that would be a faster way. I brought some of it to our orphanage and made a makeshift "sensory isolator" (pool filled with water and salt) on the basement (no one ever uses it anyways). It was weird going back there again, it was less chaotic than when I was a child, more empty.

I tried this about 3-4 times before anything happened, and then I found something, some balls of light (or seemed to be light, it was bright than the rest of that space) that when touched showed me my memories. I looked through many of them until I found any that I couldn't see, and the more of them I saw, more things started appearing: "shadows" of objects, people and places from the past. Until I found... the "house".

Inside it, there they were, all the memories my brain didn't let me see. After brute-forcing a bit, I found out how to see them and in a few hours, I have come to terms with my past... or at least I believed so.

After this, I told about what I discovered to P, that was horrified, as the results could have been catastrophic, and that I was looking really pale after this constant exposure (I used it every day for a week and this was used once a month max). I said to her that, with some development, this could be a really effective way to help the children we take care of, and she snapped, held me down, and made me promise that I wouldn't ever touch that powder again.

After some months, I started to look less pale, and P ended up rethinking the whole situation, and said she would allow it, as long as the children weren't involved, to which I agreed. A few days later, P's son D (14-15 M) came to me saying that he knew about the powder thing and asked me if he could try it. I denied saying that I promised to his mother I wouldn't do this experiment with the children.

I talked to about it to P, and she called D to talk with her there. She was trying to explain to him why that was dangerous, but it sounded a lot like she was fighting with him, all the while he was looking at me as if I had betrayed him, which I would soon come to understand. She asked why he would ever need to do this and... well...

...how do I say this?...

He lifted his arm, showing lots of scars he had kept hidden, apparently he was having problems with bullying (the verbal and psychological one I think) that lead into him cutting himself... gosh I don't know how to describe any of this right, but I think you got the idea.

So he thought that maybe, by confronting these thoughts and memories "directly", he could be better... somehow. There was a silence for a long while, until P broke down. I... didn't knew what to do, I didn't knew if what he was saying was possible, none of us knew, but he seemed so desperate that eventually I said that we could try it if he wanted to. P was enraged over this, yelling at me about how I dare suggest this in such a vulnerable moment, I argued that I was just trying to help him, and it kept escalating until D ran out of the room crying and went to the basement.

When me and P got there, he was picking the powder and throwing it in the water (which is definitely NOT the way to do it), and when we reached him, it was too late, he was already in his mind realm. Taking him out of the water didn't bring him back, we tried a few things to wake him up but nothing worked, so we waited. After half an hour, he started to whisper some words and phrases like "where", "lost", "i'm scared", "let me go" and "still alive". Slowly, he started talking more, and then he started screaming in terror of something. We panicked, we tried to talk to him, get him out of there, but he just screamed louder and louder until he says "get me outta here!!" and then he stops, and falls down with one last whisper: "thank you". P slowly open his eyes, and we both get mortified when we see it. He was with the same lifeless eyes of the "ascended", which makes me scream and curl into a corner of the room, starting to break down, memories flowing back in.

I... I feel like I'm the villain here. I decided to search for the powder, I used it to "fix myself" quicker, I had the idea of using it to help the children, I told P about what D asked to me forcing him to confess it to his mother, I left all the "equipment" to use it there lying on the basement... I... I killed him... didn't I? It sounds silly to ask it now but, AITA?

[xmystophalesx]

Best New Heavy Metal Releases Week of February 17th, 2023

Bit of a rough week for me on a personal level, as I wasn’t really sure if I was going to put out a new list for the week or not. I tested positive for my second round of Covid Wednesday night and that put me pretty far behind on my list. Got on some Paxlovid and things turned around pretty quickly after that. Not sure if it was the meds or knowing that Hellripper had put out a new album. Ill just go with both being a tremendous help. Time for the highlights.

All My Shadows-Eerie Monsters (Heavy/Hard Rock)**

This was a very pleasant surprise. From the album art and the band name, I would have bet money this was going to be some American metalcore band. I was fully expecting for this to be a short couple track listen and then a move to another album. Well, this is actually the vocalist and guitarist from the band Vanden Plas, so what you have here is some top quality Melodic Metal with a Progressive tinge. Excellently crafted songs with some killer guitar work. Not exactly sure why this was not just used on a VP album, as this sounds like classic VP. Regardless of all of that, if this is a genre you enjoy, this could easily be stuck on your personal play list for quite a while.

Tulus-Fendens Kall (Black)**

This is labeled as Black Metal, but to be completely honest, that is to simple a designation. There is a lot going on here, from folk influences to straight up simple Hard Rock and even flashes of Doom. This was the first band Blodstrop and Sarke were in before starting the band Khold. I will freely admit for Black Metal purists, this album may be hard to get into but I enjoyed it quite a bit.

Hellripper-Warlocks Grim & Withered Hags (Black/Speed)**

What can you say about James McBain that hasn’t already been said? Hands down one of the very best in this Black/Speed Metal genre and still a one man project. This album just continues his streak of releasing one killer album after another that are just a blast to listen to. The only differences I see is maybe a bit of advancement in the overall songwriting and his guitar leads are getting better and better, which is impressive as they were already pretty damn good to begin with. Hellripper for me has become an automatic purchase album every time I hear he has an album coming out and this one was easily a preorder.

Tryglav-The Ritual (Melodic Black)**

Yet another one man Melodic Black Metal project. Slowly but surely, this is becoming more of the norm than the exception. I first listened to this on Sunday morning so I didn’t get as much time with this as I did the Hellripper album. Even so, it was really pushing the “Warlocks…” album for the pick of the week. Excellent use of melody and guitar work throughout the length of the album. There is something very addictive about this album and I feel it will get a lot more play in the near future.

That will do it for this week. Still not at 100% but getting there and when I thought of possibly skipping this week, it made me feel worse than the covid. The cause of Heavy Metal waits for no man! Illness is nothing compared to praising the glory of all the Metals! Or even worse, disappointing my tens and tens of fans that actually read this thing….lol Until next week, and as always, listen to metal and fill your soul with happiness and, of course…

BANG THY HEAD!!!

All worthy of a listen if you like the genre

*= standout in that genre

**=best of the week regardless of genre

Best of the Week

Street Tombs-Reclusive Decay (Death/Thrash)**

Scars of Oblivion-Misanthropy (Melodic Death)**

Last Legion-Metall, Blod & Aska (Thrash/Death)**

Tramilizer-Fumes of Funeral Pyres (Death)**

Tulus-Fendens Kall (Black)**

Knights of Blood-El Juicio de Osiris (Heavy)**

All My Shadows-Eerie Monsters (Heavy/Hard Rock)**

Hellripper-Warlocks Grim & Withered Hags (Black/Thrash)**

Tryglav-The Ritual (Melodic Black)**

Standout in their Genre

Cryptic Witch-Summoning (Doom/Stoner/Psychedelic)*

Proxima B-Void Cycles (Melodic Death/Progressive)*

Desosser-Vitalism (Death)*

Age of Ruin-Thieves (Melodic Death)*

Hard to Kill-Resistan (Death/Hardcore)*

Parasitario-Everything Belongs to Death (Death)*

Ulthar-Anthronomicon/Helionomicon (Death/Black/Progressive)*

The Abbey-Word of Sun (Doom)*

Hail the Void-Memento Mori (Doom/Stoner)*

Winds of Tragedy-Hating Life (Melodic Black)*

Setanera-Equilibrium (Gothic)*

Robin McAuley-Alive (Heavy/Hard Rock)*

Gutted-A Path To Ruin (Death/Grind/Technical)*

Majestic Ryte-Majestic Ryte (Heavy/US Power)*

Exhibition-The Last Laugh (Thrash/Crossover)*

66Crusher-Limbo (Thrash/Progressive)*

Creye-III:Weightless (Hard Rock/Progressive)*

Depravation-IV:LETVM (Black/Death)*

First Signal-Face Your Fears (Heavy/Hard Rock)*

Kromheim-Journey to Divinity (Melodic Death)*

Siege of Power-This is Tomorrow (Death/Thrash)*

Worth a Listen

The Black Moriah-Desert Hymns & Funeral Grins (Black/Thrash)

Clit Commander-Obey the Clit (Brutal Death/Grindcore)

Avatar-Dance Devil Dance (Heavy/Alternative/Hard Rock)

Skinflint-Hate Spell (Heavy/Speed)

Ad Omega-Aphelic Ascent (Black)

Enisum-Forgotten Mountains (Black/Atmospheric)

Man Must Die-The Pain Behind it All (Technical Death)

Genghis Khan-Who Art in Hell (Traditional Heavy)

Soul of Death-Spiritual Disease (Melodic Death)

Hellpass-Gates of War (Heavy)

Strange Omen-Marasma (Heavy)

Theophonos-Nightmare Visions (Black/Experimental)

Pick of the week goes to Hellripper with yet another fantastic and FUN album. 5 lazy bulldog side eyes out of 5! Go buy this record!

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Chapter 3: Mysterious Disappearance

Narrated by Chestnut.

Narrator: After the rehearsal, Benjamin is missing.

Narrator: According to the guards attending to Benjamin, they left after carrying him to the camp, and they even took the time to wind his winder before they left. When we went back to the camp, however, Benjamin was nowhere to be found.

Guard A: Guess he's finally learned to feel shame and knows that he doesn't belong here!

Chestnut: But where could he possibly go with a broken winder, though?

Guard B: Couldn't care less, as long as he's not here.

Narrator: No one cares about where Benjamin went. The captain, of all people, takes comfort in knowing that Benjamin is no longer around.

Narrator: Benjamin was so "outstanding" that the Queen doesn't seem to demand that the formation be complete anymore.

Narrator: The guards' training continues as usual. At the same time, however, strange rumors start budding up in the palace.

Narrator: The roses at the palace, for example, have all withered overnight, driving the gardener crazy. The violinist suddenly fell ill after performing for the Queen and retired.

Narrator: These rumors, however, have helped strengthen security measures around the palace, which works in our favor with the inauguration around the corner.

Narrator: Even the guard needs to patrol and stand guard to ensure the Queen's safety.

Narrator: I'm on guard duty today, and I can hear Queen Lilibet playing the violin in the garden.

Narrator: I'm entirely enthralled by the Queen's performance when she suddenly stops.

Narrator: What's going on in there? I feel anxious as I approach the garden. Then, I hear people talking from inside the garden.

Narrator: But the Queen is supposed to have asked everyone around her to leave. Could the intruder make his way in when I wasn't looking? This is bad.

Chestnut: Your Highness, is everything okay in there? I beg your pard-...

Lilibet: It's fine. Stay where you are.

Narrator: Without the Queen's permission to enter the garden, I remain standing where I am, listening to bits and pieces of the conversation.

Lilibet: So, you're not satisfied with the guard out there? Do you want a replacement...

Narrator: Then, the Queen asks me to bring her the best, strongest guard there is in the palace.

Narrator: When I've brought the Guard's Captain to the garden, he walks in alone. A few moments later, the Queen walks out of the garden, safe and alone.

Lilibet: Let's head back to my bedchamber.

Narrator: As I walk behind the Queen, I keep turning my head around to steal glances at the garden. The gardens' branches seem to form a cobweb from which prey cannot escape.

Narrator: A few days later, suspicions about the disappearance of the Guard's Captain start budding up.

Narrator: When I meet the Queen for an audience, I inform her of the rumor.

Chestnut: He went missing after seeing you that day.

???: Are you suspecting Her Majesty of foul play?

Narrator: It's only when a voice comes from behind the Queen that I finally notice that a person has been standing in the shadows by the throne.

Chestnut: No, please forgive me, Your Highness! I mean absolutely no disrespect!

Narrator: The voice sounds familiar, but I'm much too busy fixing my eyes on the red carpet in embarrassment to think about whose voice that might be.

Narrator: A few moments later, the Queen finally starts speaking to me in a gentle voice.

Lilibet: Please rise. He'll be away from quite some time because he's currently on a mission I've assigned him. Speak of this to no one.

Narrator: When I raise my head, I see a gentle smile on the Queen's face. Coming down from the ceiling, her silver strings gleam in darkness and travel into the depths of her beautiful dress.

Narrator: Seeing that the Queen wasn't offended by what I said, I let out a sigh of relief.

Chestnut: Yes!

Narrator: On my way out, I raise my head up slightly to steal a glance at the person standing next to the throne.

Narrator: He stands as straight as a ruler by the Queen, his face covered in shades of the curtains.

Narrator: One doesn't need to guess to know he is the Queen's new, most trusted attendant everyone has been talking about recently.

Narrator: What surprises me about the attendant, however, is the tall cap in his hand. It seems familiar. The metal cockade, having been so thoroughly polished to the point of glittering, is the guard of honor's symbol.

Narrator: But the guard of honor should be out in the square doing their training now. Who exactly... is this person?

Narrator: I didn't catch a clear look on the attendant's face, but his voice reminded me of Benjamin, who's gone missing for quite a while now.

Narrator: But I quickly dismiss the thought.

Narrator: The attendant is far too tall and formidable to look anything like the defective Benjamin we know.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

[badtasteaquarium]

I know it's midnight but I'm having. A head full many thoughts moment

What if when egg man recovers shadow he's half blown to pieces...but the black arms dna is causing him to grow back his extremities in twisted alien ways...he sees his severed limbs in some places and is horrified...would it be easier to let him die? He is barely alive as it is...

Maybe he does try to put him in stasis to observe the growth, but it's far too slow. In the meantime he draws schematics and starts to fashion his android. He uses metal sonic as a template and goes from there. He just gets carried away with it all.

Like he gets to the point where he performs surgery, with his spinal cord and brain on ice, and is able to transplant, and also siphons most of his blood. He can't get the artificial heart to start at first though. Until one day in the stasis tube it does. There are things happening beyond his control and he observed it all until GUN shuts it down. I wonder if rouge finds him?

He doesn't want shadow to die. The only reason he gives him up is under the assumption that he will live. Otherwise the eggman army WILL have a word. Rouge gives him her word

Anyway the rest we know. GUN works on him for a couple more years and gets him up and running. Controls him with the chips in his brain. But his will remains, gets the emeralds, fully regains control and is able to be the shadow we know and love today

Now. I have more thoughts pertaining to the present

Upon reacquainting himself with amy, he decided to get the whole sa2 gang back together again and formally announce he's not dead. Really only tails is the one who's out of the loop, but knuckles also hasn't seen him properly. It's basically also to tell sonic "hey I'm not a secret anymore" since it's been very hard for him not to blab for like. 3 years. ADHD forgetfullness has saved his bacon

Amy and shadow on a date, and shadow reveals that he was engaged. To maria! Unfortunately while he helped cure her nids she was still heavily immunocompromised and became ill again. This time shadow could not donate his blood for science as it's been mixed with synthetic fluid. She's been passed for 1-2 years since present day

Still working on the timeline for all of this tbh

Amy gets cream and big together to have a girls sleepover and gossip about shadow. Very excited about her new boyfriend. I'm claiming Big as one of the girls in this case. He's a drag queen

I still want to write the sonic/shadow parallel tryst situation. Sonic texts shadow "greetings from soleanna!" And shad is like "looks nice. Maria and I are going out today" and have a sonelise meet cute parallel shadow and marias date. They both fuck of course

I did a bunch of B universe sketches, including shadria. The vibe is way different--keeping maria alive here too as "dr. M" and he looks much more robotnik like. But with perfectly coiffed blond hair. Shadow is a 6'7" lizard alien woman and the contrast is very good.

I gave b!sonic a lesbian mullet because she deserves it. I need to give knux both city looks and emerald guardian looks. A!knux is more of a recluse, but I think b!knux gets out more. It's the sonic influence

B!Amy is a tgirl because I said so. I can do so much more with girlish intuition than just the straight genderbend with her. I did bend rouge and blaze though. Rouge will be fun. He's kinda like a thancred. Similar roles between the verses

A!blaze is from silvers bad future, but b!blaze is a prince; I think he'll replace Elise in soleanna for that kinda vibe. A!silver is still hunting for sonic, but b!silver is here to warn about shadow and the black arms invasion. She's too late of course!

I feel like the most clever person in the world when I sink into these AUs. Mad with power over humanized sonics

[amandadoylewriting]

Dancing With The Shadows of My Soul

From dark purple to bright perspectives.

(A reupload of my own article on vocal.media)

I took a poetry class in my second year of university. It was one of my favourite classes ever, and I always appreciated the way that my professor taught us how to craft more than just a piece of poetry, but a scene. How he showed us that the details were important too, not just the story. Maybe that's why I've always been interested in romanticizing my life.

I can't remember a time when I didn't struggle with mental health challenges. I've always had this sadness. Sometimes it's extremely intense, and other times it just lingers.

In that poetry class, I wrote a poem about my sadness and described it as dark purple. I described it as bruises that never fade. That poem got a good grade, but it was about more than that for me. It felt true, it felt like I had bruises, even though I had no idea of the trauma that lay ahead of me.

Flash forward to eight or so years later, and I understand what I meant now when I said that sadness can be like bruises that never fade. It feels like I have all of these bruises, but because of my mental illnesses, they'll never be able to heal.

Surviving the Abyss

I don't think I was ever formally diagnosed with depression. From what I remember, I went to the school psychologist, and they recommended that I see a therapist. Next thing I knew, I was 17 years old and standing in my living room, telling my mom that I didn't want to be "here" anymore. I was sent to a therapist for a few sessions after that, but nothing ever evolved.

The first talk of a diagnosis that I remember was in my first year of university, when some sort of school counsellor or doctor or something said that I might have a personality disorder in Cluster B. I looked into it a little bit, but pretty much forgot about it.

Everything came to a head in July 2017, the summer of my attempted suicide. Rewind the time just over half a year, and I was standing in my room straightening my hair for school, thinking about how I was the saddest that I'd ever been. And then I met a boy. He showed me what love was, briefly, and then brought me into a real life nightmare. For seven months, I was madly enamored with him, up until the day that he died, the day of my overdose. You see, I would have followed him anywhere. Everything went according to plan, except for one part — I had survived.

In the remains of the trauma, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, type II. This was the first diagnosis that actually made sense to me. I related to the manic episodes, where I remember singing to my mom while I danced on top of the coffee table. And I of course related to the depression, finally an explanation for the deep and dark feelings that I had always known so well.

In the years following, many terms have been thrown around. I relate the most to my bipolar diagnosis, my PTSD diagnosis, and my diagnosis of having traits of borderline personality disorder (BPD). Funnily enough, BPD is a personality disorder in Cluster B, just like that person at my university had said all of those years ago.

The thing about BPD is that most people don't start to show symptoms until the late teen years and into early adulthood, and those symptoms can be triggered by a traumatic experience, such as what I went through. So it seemed like things got worse for me mentally after the overdose, and it turns out, they did.

Now that you know the whole story, you should be able to see how much of a mess I truly am. I put on a façade that I have it all together, but that's nowhere near true, and I am working every day to rediscover myself on this very messy and unpredictable journey.

A Lazy Girl's Approach to Life's Small Pleasures

I've found it helpful to introduce easy and practical exercises into my routines, because let's face it, I'm a lazy girlie. My morning routine is short and efficient, including a good combination of what I need to do and what I want to do.

Mindfulness has never been easy for me, and maybe that's why I never prospered in all of those DBT classes. My mind is always running, and the world is always muted. I have a hard time tuning in. But I like to practice mindfulness by becoming aware of the small moments and enjoying them, because there's more to life than all of the unnecessary stress that we add on.

Throughout the years, I've always been able to express myself and my passion through various outlets, whether it be my writing roots, pushing myself to be of service to others, or even creating content that I care about. Spiritually, I connect myself to God in ways that feel good to me, and I practice tarot in a way that makes sense to me. I believe that belief is personal and it should be whatever you want it to be, which may be jarring for some who seek religion and spirituality for practice and tradition.

What I'm saying is that life can be really difficult when you struggle with mental health issues, especially if you're still trying to discover yourself. But I want you to remember that you don't need to know what you're doing and you can choose how your journey goes. You cannot control what happens, but you can control your perspective on the situation and how you choose to feel about it.

Transformation Personalized

From diagnosis to diagnosis, sadness has always remained, but I find small ways to make it seem not as intimidating and heavy. Some of these ways are traditional and others are not, but the important part is that they work for me. Every person's journey is different, as each person on this planet is so unique. Find the things that work for you and do those things, because those are the things that will help you stay balanced when the ground starts to rumble again.

If you're feeling good, take advantage of that and think about the things that led you to this feeling, and take note. Think of your life like a puzzle, where you get to put the pieces together how you want, and it might not fit on the first try.

However, you'll eventually be able to see the bigger picture.

[clowngames]

Alright, strap in.

50 years ago Professor Gerald Robotnik probably built the Space Colony ARK with the help of the global military Guardian Units of Nations (G.U.N.). The ARK is, as its name implies, a space station built to be habitable by people in the event of a world-ending catastrophe. It's on board the ARK that Prof. Robotnik worked on Project Shadow.

Project Shadow's end-goal, much like the origins of the ARK, was a little bit nebulous. We're led to believe it was to create the Ultimate Lifeform - Shadow the Hedgehog - only for it to be revealed that the real goal was to create the perfect being in order to study the qualities necessary to extend life. In particular, to cure a terrible terminal illness which plagued Prof. Robotnik's granddaughter Maria.

Indeed, Robotnik would not have started this project if he didn't think he could save his granddaughter's life. This is why his first attempt at the ultimate lifeform was a lizard which never stopped growing, which ultimately became the Biolizard.

The illness that Maria suffered from was vague in the games, but in the comics it was fleshed out, and it's a disease known as Neuro-Immune Deficiency Syndrome, or NIDS. Few symptoms are described in detail except for the general way it weakens the victim, but let's be real, this is AIDS with the first letter switched out. Whether it was for the lowered gravity of the ARK allowing her to live more comfortably in a weakened state or the quarantined nature of the ARK, it was the best place for Robotnik to keep her while he sought a cure.

Well, just like the real thing, the government didn't really care all that much about curing NIDS and was more interested in how to use Robotnik's research in a military capacity, enhancing soldiers and maybe getting a cool hedgehog-themed superweapon. I'll admit the direct parallels stop working out pretty quick.

It's worth mentioning that Sonic Adventure 2, the game which spawned all of this, was developed during the height of the AIDS epidemic. That said, the first time it was actually specified to be called NIDS was in 2007, so it's unlikely that the original developers envisioned it to be a critique of governments' failure to respond to the AIDS crisis (I don't even know the history of AIDS in Japan). Especially since SA2 was more focused on criticizing the military industrial complex.

Project Shadow was shut down before it could be completed - by which I mean G.U.N. boarded the ARK and killed everyone they could, and arrested Robotnik and put him in Guantanamo Bay Prison Island where they would later execute him via firing squad. How many people were on the ARK when that happened? Hard to say. At minimum, the world's top scientists were all there, and probably several of their families. In Shadow the Hedgehog we see a flashback stage where Shadow is tasked with getting first aid to civilians who are hurt by a security breach of Artificial Chaos onboard the ARK, which suggests that at least several dozen people were there.

We also know that G.U.N. killed everyone on board because A) they shot Maria, killing her even though she was a child, implying they were less than discriminate and B) the ARK was entirely abandoned and unoccupied in the 50 years since.

In summary, Shadow the Hedgehog was created to cure Fictional AIDS in a story criticizing government for entirely different problems.

At tumblr user @clowngames , what do you mean shadow the hedgehog was made to destroy aids