#yes this is based off of the drawn leak of his animations

[azu-rye]

you poor, flightless bird.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Ok i got an monster tom x scientist reader au universe thing and no it does not take place in the red army base

Reader is a scientist and is asked to run some tests on a new specimen/monster they found, and when reader sees the specimen/monster they actually think it's kinda cute but then some other scientists shock him and even stick some needles in him and reader just feels bad for the specimen/monster at this point so nighttime rolls around and they hack into the cameras to shut them off and wear a mask so they won't get caught and go to the main room where the specimen/monster is they the reader introduces themselves to the monster the monster, thinking they're gonna hurt them, immediately backs off obviously scared and reader convinces the monster that they're not gonna hurt them and the monster shrinks as he's mostly human and says "your not gonna hurt me?" And they reassure him that they're not gonna hurt him and they sneak into the readers car and drives off the lab that the monster was in and reader asks what the "monsters" name is and says their name is "tom". Then reader makes a pit stop to a store real quick to get tom some clothes and then reader drives to they're home and introduces tom to their room and asks if they want some food/ take out or not an he says yes and they get some chinese food and watch some TV, after eating they both go to bed and reader suddenly finds themselves in Toms arms whimpering a little, and reader just kinda decides to pet his hair and rub his horns a little bit which make him purr then tom wraps his tail around reader and asks them to do it more and they do do that untill they notice that he's asleep then they both fall asleep.

Whew, I enjoyed writing this one ^^

Summary: Reader, a scientist, rescues Monster Tom from the lab that experimented on him and brings him home

...............

"Dr. [L/n], I'll let you oversee today's tests on TR-03."

"Alright, chief." You smiled awkwardly as your supervisor handed you the clipboard. It contained the subject's information: a one-eyed horned monster of an unknown species, though your colleagues have theorized it to be a demon. "What kind of tests are we running on it?"

"Resistance to electric shocks. There's evidence of uranium possibly circulating in its blood, so you'll be watching them extract samples as well."

As he explained, your smile gradually dropped as you looked over the information, seeing a ton of redacted information, including several incidents of the destruction it caused prior to its capture.

"So it's gonna be shocked and stuck with needles? Sounds painful."

"Its armor is thick, so it shouldn't feel a thing. Besides...I don't think you need to worry about whether it'll be painful for it." Your supervisor spoke in a rather condescending tone. "After all it's just an animal."

"I...yes, sir. I'll go oversee the tests right away." Not wanting to argue further, you just left his office and wandered through the building.

You were eager yet anxious to meet this monster.

Eventually you reached the area where the creature was being held, climbing up the stairs that led to the skybridge so you could look down into its holding chambers.

It was a massive dark purple creature, with two bright violet horns and a single black eye. Surprisingly it was allowed full movement, though judging from the many claw marks on the walls...it wouldn't surprise you if one day it was chained up to restrict such behavior.

You actually thought it was..kind of cute? It looked scary in pictures, but up-close it didn't seem as terrifying.

That only made you feel more pity for it as other scientists entered the chamber, clad in protective suits, with electric prongs and needles.

Almost immediately the monster seemed aware of what they were going to do, its eye widening as it stood on both feet and cowered in the corner. It growled in warning, only for a scientist to jab its leg with a prong in response, eliciting a roar of pain.

You physically flinched, feeling bad for the creature. But you took notes on its response to electric shocks.

Subject recognized equipment immediately, perceiving them as danger. Responded painfully to electricity.

Soon after being tortured, the monster seemed dazed, allowing another scientist in a hazmat suit to approach it and stick a needle into its hip. The vial of blood collected turned out to be red, with a glowing green aura.

As you took more notes, you heard a small whimper and looked down, seeing that the monster wasn't putting up a fight.

Instead it was...crying?

Sure enough, tears leaked from its eye as more of its blood was drawn, being electrocuted as some sick form of "sedation". It was hard to tell whether the people inside felt any sort of sympathy, but they just took their leave without saying a word to each other. Only a mere nod.

You didn't want to be here any longer than you needed to, so you finished your report and began heading back to your office.

Though you noticed the monster looking up at you, and you couldn't help but frown and murmur a simple:

"I'm sorry."

.............

After your shift was over, normally you'd go home for the night.

But on the ride home...you kept thinking of TR-03 and couldn't shake the images and sounds of its pain.

The way it responded to just seeing the prongs, and the way it looked at you as though it was begging for help, seemed far too human for it to be just a mindless animal.

Of course, you never questioned the secrets this lab kept--not wanting to be fired. But they seemed to be hiding a lot of stuff about this specimen, never speaking about its origins or even what it was capable of.

You may have only seen it for the first time today, but you wanted to know more about it. And you had a feeling that you won't get the answers you wanted by asking around.

Oh no..you were going to free it in order to find out the truth.

Not just to satisfy your own curiosity, but also because...the way it was being treated was far too cruel. To the point where it was crying.

You couldn't stand for this unethical treatment any longer. You had to do something..and be smart about it lest you got killed or worse.

After making a quick stop at a store, you found a mask and changed your clothes, completely disguising yourself. Then you got back in your car and returned to the lab, parking it somewhere far away so that you can sneak inside.

Fortunately you had security access in case any of the specimen breached their chambers. Thanks to your hacking skills you were able to disable every security camera you could find, putting them all on timers so they'd turn on later in the morning. You didn't want to rouse any suspicion.

That was the easy part.

The most important and difficult task lied ahead.

...........

As soon as you entered the monster's chamber, it woke up and grumbled with annoyance. Clearly it didn't like its rest being disturbed.

Though upon seeing you and the mask you wore, it tilted its head. "Grrrah..?"

"Shhh, it's okay." You whispered, removing the mask so it could see your face. While you were awestruck to actually see it up close and personal, you knew you had to keep calm.

But that might've been a mistake as it seemed to recognize you--the one who was watching it earlier today. It immediately backed into a corner, terrified as its chest began heaving with anxiety.

You couldn't blame it for its reaction, though your gently put your hands up and hushed it. "Please don't panic. I'm not here to hurt you. I wanna get you out of here."

"Hrrgrah?"

"Mhm." Smiling, you just pretended you could understand it. "I don't like how they treat you here. They call you an animal but..I know you're more than that."

The monster calmed down a little, before glancing up to the opposite corner. He made a noise of confusion upon seeing that the security camera's annoying red light wasn't blinking.

"I shut that off so nobody can hear or see us."

"H...ack..?"

You blinked, surprised that it could speak some English, but the fact it wasn't cowering like before was a sign it was trusting you. "Yep, I hacked the whole security complex. Now's our chance to escape, but..ah shit."

Suddenly, it never occurred to you: your mission was focused on getting to the monster, but you never considered how you'll get out with the monster.

"Damn..I'm not sure how we'll sneak you out without...." However, you trailed off as you saw it changing into a smaller form.

But it wasn't just shrinking, it was actually turning partially human.

How curious, nobody told you about that. Maybe that was part of the redacted information.

The monster turned out to be a human male, who still retained his horns, tail, and dark scales and fur, which covered his body. His brown hair was messy and spiky, and interestingly enough he had two black eyes.

He didn't have any clothes, obviously, so you took off your coat and put it around him. "So you're human, huh?"

"Your stupid friends' experiments wouldn't let me turn back for a while..." He grumbled in a slight British accent. "You sure you're not gonna hurt me?"

Understandably he got defensive, knowing you were working for the people who tortured him. But you shook your head. "No, I won't. I'm quitting this shithole and I'll take you with me." You took his hand reassuringly, noting that it was still clawed.

He gave you the tiniest of smiles in return. "Heh, glad we're both in agreement."

Soon you both quickly made your escape, luckily not running into any trouble. Your car was still parked right where you left it, so you got in and drove off.

You definitely won't miss working for that lab.

The roads were mostly empty at this time of night, so you were able to breathe easy knowing nobody's gonna chase you. Now seemed to be the best time to talk with the monster.

"So uh..do you have a name?" You spoke up. "I know they call you TR-03 but it doesn't feel right to call you that anymore."

"Tom." He answered as he looked out the window. "My name's Tom Ridges."

'Huh, that explains his code name.'

"I'm [y/n]." After noticing a nearby plaza, you saw a clothing store and decided to make a quick stop there. Tom seemed to be confused, and a bit worried when you left him in the car all alone, though you reassured him you were just buying some clothes for him.

He waited, trying to keep himself out-of-view in case any strangers got too nosy. But before long you were back, opening the driver's side as you peered in and sighed with relief, seeing him halfway out of the chair.

"Jeez, you scared me..thought somebody got you." You sighed, shaking your head.

"S-Sorry, not trying to get any unwanted attention. It's the last thing I need.." He sat upright, though he was surprised when you handed him a bag. Inside was a blue hoodie, boxers, and gray sweatpants. "Oh, cool."

'That's all he has to say?' His reaction was a bit underwhelming. 'Then again..maybe he hasn't processed that he's never going back to that hell chamber yet.'

You just shut the door and waited for him to get dressed, and when he tapped on the window you got back into the car. He definitely looked more comfortable now.

After giving him a smile, you continued on your way home, feeling glad that you rescued him from that place. You had no idea if he had any place to go, granted you don't recall seeing any information on his address nor any relationships.

So he'll stay with you.

...........

"Luckily I got a spare room. Excuse the mess." You chuckled as you showed Tom the extra room in your house, turning on the light. "You can stay here for as long as you'd like."

He nodded as he looked around, before feeling his stomach grumble. In embarrassment he put a hand over it, glancing at you. "Sorry..the food they had was shitty, I'm sure you knew."

"Yeah...you want takeout?" You took out your phone. "I don't feel like cooking tonight so I was gonna order some anyway."

"Sounds good."

"Alrighty, I'll call in the order. We can go watch TV while we wait."

Once more Tom nodded, following you into the living room space where you both sat down on the sofa. He sighed and leaned back, turning on the TV while you ordered some Chinese food.

This situation felt so...comforting and familiar..

For a moment he gazed at you, seeing you look through the menu.

He knew he wasn't the only prisoner back in that lab. So he couldn't understand why you'd choose him, of everyone you could've helped, but...he considered himself lucky.

For once he felt like he could let his guard down a little.

Some time later the food arrived to your house, and you both ate it while watching various TV programs. You asked Tom a bit more about his home life, though he didn't have much to talk about.

Whether he didn't want to say anything or forgot it thanks to the experiments was a mystery, but you wouldn't pry. You'll get your answers sooner or later, though not tonight.

Tonight you both deserved a good rest.

Afterwards you headed off to your own room, letting him know that he can knock on your door if he ever needed anything.

You got into your pajamas and crawled into bed, yawning.

It had definitely been an eventful day. You were eager to sleep in, knowing that you won't ever go back to your boring (and unethical) job.

But just as you had turned off the lights and dozed off, you heard your door creak open. With a slightly annoyed sigh, you sat up and turned on the lamp beside you, before seeing it was Tom.

"Tom? Your room is..."

Though you fell silent when you heard him...whimper? His eyes were white, indicating he was in some kind of distress.

But he crawled onto your bed, practically situating himself in your arms while making sure he didn't jab you with his horns. You were perplexed by his actions, though you finally realized..

He was just scared.

You held him in your arms, rubbing his horns soothingly and petting his hair, murmuring promises that he was safe. In response he nuzzled up to you, tail wrapping around your body as you both laid down.

You only stopped for a moment as he started purring, which made you chuckle softly. "Purring, huh? That's new."

"Can you keep doing that?" He grumbled, closing his eyes. "It was nice till you stopped."

"O-Oh right, sorry." You continued the previous motions, deciding to hum a small song as well to help him sleep.

Eventually you stopped once he dozed off completely, and your cheeks felt warm upon seeing how adorable he looked. 'And to think I was afraid of this guy?' You mused, before turning off the lamp light.

Soon enough you fell asleep as well.

If this is how Tom expressed his thanks...you'll take it.

[realm-sweet-realm]

Angel of the Ink Machine, chapter 6: To Bring Back a Legend

The Angel of the Ink Machine is an AU in which Sammy left the studio instead of Henry, leaving Joey in need of a new partner in his magical mayhem- one who is far more capable of jousting with him for power over the project.

This AU ended up longer than I thought it would. Oh well! The next chapter should be out within a couple days (it’s in the editing stage), and then a final chapter, which will probably be a fairly short one, will be out within a week or less. I hope no one’s getting sick of this yet!

Days passed. Allison continued as a voice actress. She and Joey didn’t speak. Joey figured he shouldn’t fire her- shouldn’t set her off- until that final dose of potion was in his hands. Allison didn’t want to threaten him at all, lest he turn off the ink machine and kill her. She was only giving him the last dose of potion out of fear that he might not maintain the machine for the sake of one performing toon.

Joey’s mind was full of plans of how to use the final dose of potion, and an empty feeling of betrayal. Allison was a traitor. Just like Sammy. Just like he’d thought Henry was until he figured out the truth: Henry hadn’t been a traitor, he’d merely fallen in with the wrong company and been ruined as a result. He still remembered the last time he’d spoken to Henry, over six years ago.

—

It seemed like just a day like any other. Henry had scheduled an appointment to meet with him, but it could have been about anything. Joey wasn’t concerned over it in the slightest until Henry had stepped in and refused to meet his eyes.

“I’m giving my two weeks’ notice,” he’d said, lowering himself into the chair.

By that point, Joey was quite used to having to pep-talk Henry out of moods like this- it was little more than an annoyance. “Henry. The first time you gave me a threat like that was years ago. If you’d quit then, think of all the things you wouldn’t have shared in the creation of. This isn’t any different than that time, or any of the other little crisis of faith you’ve had. You just have to ignore it and push through, and you’ll have your passion for the studio back in no time.”

“Joey, this isn’t something you can pep-talk me out of. Look, I know that animation is an inherently labour-intensive art form. And maybe it isn’t you- maybe I’m just not cut out for it. All I know is… after animation cost me my relationship with Linda and my friendship with you? I just never want to draw again. These last nine years at this studio have killed the artist in me. I’m sorry.”

Joey sat in stunned silence. He would have exploded if Henry had simply quit, but this was stupefying. Henry not wanting to draw was like the sun not wanting to shine or water not wanting to hydrate.

“Thanks for understanding,” Henry said after the silence had stretched on long enough. He got up to leave, snapping Joey out of his inertia.

Joey got up and grabbed Henry’s arm. “You’re not making any sense. You’re one of the best artists here. Why would you just- throw away your worth like this?”

Henry didn’t have a response for that. He’d been manipulated into staying at least a couple times before. The only way to beat Joey at his game is to refuse to play.

“I don’t know how to justify it to you, but I don’t have to. Sorry.”

With that, Henry had left the room.

—

At first, Joey hadn’t known what to make of that. He’d misdirected his anger at Henry and ruminated for days on what could have gone wrong with him. It wasn’t until much later that he’d figured it out. Henry had been spending far too much time with the studio’s director of finances, Grant Cohen.

Joey hadn’t given Mr. Cohen much thought until he and Henry had started spending time together, because at the time, the studio had been doing moderately well financially, and thus he hadn’t been attempting to cause any problems. Even when he and Henry were beginning to spend time together, Joey hadn’t intervened. He was jealous of them, yes, but he knew he was the better man, that their silly relationship wouldn’t last, and that Henry would be his eventually. That’s what had happened with Linda, after all.

Of course, now Joey knew more about Mr. Cohen. The studio’s finances had gotten bad enough that he could justify making every effort to stomp on every one of Joey’s dreams. If it were up to him, there would have been no ink machine, no Bendyland, heck, he would probably shut down the whole studio if he could, saying that it “had no discernible use”  “springs massive leaks on a weekly basis,” and “could bankrupt you if you keep spending on it at this rate.” Of course such a person had met someone as malleable as Henry and convinced him to give up on such an important part of himself as soon as the going had gotten tough. Of course such a person wouldn’t appreciate his artistic talents. Joey had seen Henry get increasingly tired and pessimistic during his time at the studio. Probably from being with the worst possible person for him.

But there was a chance that Joey could fix that now. Bring back the Henry he’d fallen in love with.

It was back in the ex-speakeasy where he and Allison had met that Joey found the person he was looking for: a scarred, burly man he knew only by his street name- Sharktank.

Sharktank was a drug dealer, a career criminal, and the best and most risk-taking magician Joey knew of. Joey knew his reputation and had bought some pentagram-related spell books from him, but otherwise left him alone because Joey did not enjoy feeling like a frightened rabbit.

“I have an opportunity for you. It involves the alteration of a spell. I'll pay two hundred up-front and another two hundred once the job is complete. Alright?”

“Sure. What spell is it?”

“I have a spell that can erase a person’s personal memories. I’d like it altered so that it could, say- erase only the last seven years of a person’s memory. Sound doable?”

Sharktank smiled. “Very. But how do I know that you won’t use it on me and stiff me?”

“It’s pentagram-based. Not flash-and-it’s-done. So it just isn’t possible to do that.”

“Okay. I’ll do it.” Joey handed over the spell and some of his contact information and left as quickly as he could.

There was a good chance that he’d never see his two hundred again. Joey decided that if the spell took over a month, he’d just have to let go of Henry and use a different Bendy. If he did get the spell before that, he’d have to wait until his cast came off anyhow, so that he could draw a creature suitable to be both a perfect Bendy and his partner.

In the meantime, he found a Boris: a boy named Buddy that he’d hired. He’d been easy to convince just by promising him more than enough money for his family to live in comfort. Because Allison wasn’t there, he didn’t have anyone scaring him away from the idea, and he’d signed right on. Maybe it really was better for him to do his magic on his own. Joey planned for a few others he could kill as well, if time permitted when the day came.

Sharktank provided the spell mere days before Joey’s cast came off, and the day the cast was off, Joey was brushing aside a number of freshly-drawn Bendies on his desk at home to write a letter to Henry.

Dear Henry,

Sorry it’s been so long.

How have you been doing?

I would love to show you around the studio sometime. It’s grown a lot since you were last here. Is there sometime in the near future that would work for you?

-Joey Drew

A few days later, Joey received a letter in return. Henry was willing to come and visit.

[arclundarchivist]

In Shadow

*Spoilers for Critical Role Campaign 2 Episode 119*

*TURN BACK IF YE HAVEN’T YET CAST YOUR EYES UPON IT.*

“You okay Cad?” Beau asked looking up at him, as he stared around the twisting, the wrongness of this too-perfect forest with unease.

“No...this is casting a shadow over me,” he responded, fighting to look away as memories came to him unbidden.

Calliope chasing him amongst the trees near their home, both of them giggling as they ran.

“Get back here Caduceus!” Calliope called, reaching out to grab him only for him to scamper away.

“That’s not how the game works...I don’t think” he replied whirling around to look at her and accidentally tripping over a tree root.

He fell backward hard, and Calliope tackled him, the two rolling around the leaf-litter laughing.

“Ow,” Cad muttered, as his sister finally let him go and they both sat up.

His eyes were immediately drawn to what he had tripped over.

The roots of a tree were poking up from within the dirt...but they looked off, gray and twisted, knotted together in a deformed clump. His eyes tracked upwards, and he spotted that the branches were much the same, oddly conjoined with its nearest neighbor, an odd gray coloration spreading from one to the other.

He had no clue what this meant, but it was odd, “Weird?”

“Huh?” Calliope asked, to which he just pointed up. She followed his gaze and ended up looking just as stumped as him, as a large shadow passed over the both of them.

Cad looked down and spotted his Aunt, smiling at the two of them, “Well look at the both of you, more rumpled than a pair of Fox Kits.”

“Aunt Corrin, what’s that?” Calliope asked, pointing up into the trees.

Corrin looked upward, and  Cad noticed, an immediate worry cross across her face.

“Nothing you need to worry about dears, why don’t you head back to the grove,  Calli, can you tell your Mother to join me?” she said, but Cad...thought she might have been lying.

He and his sister had run off, but he’d kept watching his Aunt, noticing her tense shoulders and  worried glances, and he thought he heard her whisper under her breath, “It’s gotten worse.”

That had been the first time he had found out his home was sick, but it wouldn’t have been till later that he learned just how bad it was. Aeor...was it the cause for it all, everything he’d seen and learned about this place, its people, its creations, it was an affront to what was natural.

And here...nature was bending in abnormal shapes.

He would have to ask Beau and Caleb more, this was confusing, and frightening in a manner that made him long for home.

Jester’s voice dragged him out of his mulling thoughts, “Caduceus, have you ever tried talking to the trees in the Savlierwood?”

More memories flashed in his mind, “No...I...”

Beau spoke up, “Why didn’t you talk to them?”

Cad answered, “I don’t know.”

Another memory played across his mind.

He was the last one left in the Grove, the sickness now battering at the borders of his home, and he had no clue how to fix it or why it was spreading so quickly.

He knew that the Wildmother could fix it, his family leaving to pursue avenues for a cure.

And he was alone.

As the trees closed in around him he felt the urge to ask them why.To hunt for a sign as to what was causing them to act in such an unnatural way.

And one day his nervous curiosity had gotten the better of him.

So he’d left, wandering into the woods, trying to find an answer.

Instead, he’d found a wolf, lying against the base of one of the tree’s shaking fit-fully, as it retched.

It was midwinter, food was becoming scarce, and the beast was clearly starving.

“Hey,” Cad said, slowing and kneeling down, knowing it would understand him, “What’s wrong? Do you need food? Can I help?”

The wolf looked at him with frightened, pained eyes and retched again, purple leaves and white bark covered in mucus spattering the ground. The animal continued to shake fitfully.

“Oh...oh dear,” he muttered, calling his magics to him and preparing a healing spell to aid the ailing animal when it collapsed to the ground and began to twitch.

It grew, expanding in size unexpectantly, flesh tearing and blood leaking down its body as large spurs of bone emerged from it’s back. It looked up to him, the fear gone, replaced with feral rage, and it snapped at him.

He’d returned to the Grove alive but badly wounded. He’d winced as he dressed his wounds, his eyes hunting the edge of the forest for other dangers. He didn’t leave the grove after that.

Cad snapped back to reality, leaning on his staff for a bit of support as he looked over at Beau, “Things change.”

[bordemm]

𝕯𝕴𝕷𝕱

BIG AN; THIS IS A FUCKING JOKE MADE BY ME FEI HERSELF

SEE

TWs: Masturbation, use of doll, fucking his sons teacher, rough sex, choking, hair pulling, cum eating, blowjob, overstiming, cunt slapping

-wc: 1.7k this got long

Your hands grip the phone, the screen lightning up displaying the kids parents name. Meian Shougo, the famous ex-world-class volleyball player. He was one of the kids who you were assigned to taught’s parent. Big broad shoulders and biceps, a smile always on his face when he greeted you. The way his eyes light up like the sun when you said something good about his kid. The way he would eye you up and down, still focusing on what you said but admiring you in a way a predator did before it devoured its prey.

You had scheduled home tutoring with his child, who wasn’t doing so well in school lately. So you offered to help them out. Meian had agreed, he was a busy man so there were days he would not be home while you were with the kid. But the days he would be home, always in tight clothes showing off his pecs, big ones you always wondered how squishy they would feel in your hands. Sometimes walking around half-naked. His dad bod, soft plush body showing on full display. Sometimes, and you wonder if on intention he would grab a water bottle and drink in front of you, his adam's apple moving up and down as he gulped. He was well aware of the pairs of eyes that watched his every move.

The same eyes, that he sat in his room with his cock in his hand stroking the tip for. The face he imagined cumming on. The same mouth that he imagined engulfed his cock, to the base. Imagining throat fucking you, cumming down your throat, watching you struggle to swallow it all. He would have to restrain himself from cumming at the site immediately, squeeze the base of his cock and have a firm grip on it. All because of his kid’s teacher. He knew this was wrong and taboo but he couldn’t stop himself.

The same went for you. Each night on your bed, hands down your panties circling your clit, trying to imagine it was Meian that was doing it not you. The way you imagined his head between your thighs, sucking on your clit pistoning his big fingers in your tight cunt. The way he would kiss you right after you cumming. God you wish it was him here instead of you and your own fingers. You knew this was wrong, you were the teacher of his kid. But you couldn’t help yourself, just imagining the earth shattering orgasm he would bring you.

Snapping yourself out of your dirty thoughts you swiped at the phone picking up the call. “Hello?” you said to the other side, Meians deep but soft voice came out, “today just like scheduled right?”. His voice, the things it did to you, made you squeeze your thighs together. Collecting your thoughts, you answered back “Yes sir, just as planned”. “Well then I will be waiting for you doll”. That name he has given you over the course of this whole thing. That name would ring in your ears, making you shiver with chills down your back.

You started to prepare the materials to teach the kid, packing everything in your teacher bag. You made it to your car, your outfit simple leggings are a low neck shirt. You buckled up and headed to their house. You arrived an hour later, softly knocking on the door of the huge house. Hearing shuffling and grunts on the other side of the door. Startled when Meian pulled it open, hand behind his neck scratching it. Nothing but tight shorts on, his thighs outlining. You were drooling at the sight.

“Ah come on in, miss” he says as he moves to the side to let you step in, which you do. Taking in the site of the familiar place cleaned up a bit, looking nicer than usual. He locks the door behind you, as you take a whip of the smell, engulfing your senses. The apple cinnamon fills up your nose, making you feel at home. Your eyes glance around for any chance of the child finding none you turn around to ask Meian about the situation. “It’s just the two of us today doll” before you can even speak. He's in front of you, hands on either side of your waist looking at you with his golden eyes, stares into you like a predator looking at its cute little prey. Pressed his forehead against yours, “it’s just me and you today doll”.

You whimper as he grips the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head, never breaking eye contact. He places his hands on the underside of your thighs. "Jump doll" you do as commanded. The 85 kg man picking you up, taking you over to the couch. Sitting down with you on his lap, "you're so fucking pretty doll" he says as he stares at your lips. You pull him into a kiss taking him by surprise, hands tangled in his locks. Grinding down onto his thighs, "a-side please need you" you say as he grips your thighs.

A slap to your thigh and a yelp is pulled out from your throat. "Patience doll patience", he says as his hand goes to unclip your bra, doing it with ease sliding it off. "Get on your knees for me will you doll?" he says as he guides his hand into your hair, pushing you down. Guiding you to his shorts. You fumble with the waistband of his shorts. Trying your best, you pull down his shorts and boxers, his fat cock jumping out and slapping his stomach. He's hard already, tip leaking with precum. It's a delicious site indeed.

You grip his cock, from the base, going to open your mouth. It barely fits in your mouth, stretching your jaw open. You bobble your head trying to take what you can in, the rest, using your hands to reach what you can't with your mouth. Sometimes going up and moving your cheek to the side, just to hear his moans of your name. Teary eyes looking up at him for praise, condescension. The moans and grunts are enough to keep you going, keep you bobbing your head. Until he stands up, wraps his hand in your hair, "you can do better right, darling~" with that he's making you go down to the base, nose in his bush. Making you choke on his cock, a little bulge in your throat from the stretch. A drawn out fuck is heard as he cum deep down your throat. Looking down at you with pity, from the tears running down your face, ruined mascara now.

He pulls you up by the hair, a harsh grip on your chin, "open up for me" he coos at you. You do as instructed like a whore trained for it. He hollows his cheeks a glob of spit landing right on your tongue. "Swallow doll" he says, as you whimper at the taste of it going down your throat. He drags you to the bedroom, throwing you on the bed, reaching to take off your pants. Sliding them off throwing them on the floor, reaching for your panties, hands wrapped around the hem of them. Meian reaches down to kiss your thighs, placing little soft kisses to each of them. He slides your panties off your legs in a painfully slow motion. He throws them somewhere else too.

“P-please meian”, you whimper out as he lowers his head down, moving your legs so it’s easier for him to devour you. “I’m gonna make you fun so many times today doll”. He says as he uses his hands to spewed open your folds, blowing over your sensitive clit, receiving a moan in return. A little sickle on your clots already has got you throwing your head back. Fuck is all you can let out as he eases in a finger, while nibbiling on your clit. This man was fucking god at this, what the fuck. He pumps his finger in and out while sucking on your clit the other hand keeping a firm grip on your thigh. As he eases in a second finger aiming at the spongy spot inside of you, your hands make their way over to his hair, head thrown back, hands in his hair, and thighs trying to clench around his head. Your orgasm was nearing.

Fuck fuck fuck, he’s not biting your clit. It hurts but it feels fucking amazing, your high school washes over you like a new wave washing over a calm ocean. Meians still going, pumping his fingers, sucking on your clit. He moves away, you're shaking, still in post orgasm. “One” he says as he gives your cunt a little slap. A squeal being brought out from your throat, he has your juices running down his chin, face glistening under the light.

He spits in his hand, making it to his cock jerking it. He spreads your thighs apart with his huge hands again, bringing his cock over to your cunt. Slapping his head on your over sensitive clit, from the last orgasm. What the fuck, this man knew exactly what he was doing. He chuckles at your squeals and yelps. Your looking down at the sheer size of his cock. “Meian I I don’t think that will fit” you say as you try and back up, he just brings you back by the thighs. “Then I’ll just have to make it fit, right princess?”. With that he thrusts the tip inside of you, already stretching you apart, earning a scream from your throat. He’s fucking huge you think, arguing back into the pillow as he goes deeper, reaching deeper than any man has ever or will ever reach. When’s he’s all the way in, your crying from the stretch the absolute huge fucking cock this man has, has you crying tears again. He’s not giving you any time to adjust, already thrusting in like an animal, fucking you crazy. Fucking you good and brainless, he lifts one leg over his shoulder. Reaching even deeper which you thought was impossible.

You’re screaming, crying, and yelping from the way he’s grinding down. He brings down his fingers stuffing them in your mouth, “suck like a good doll, ok doll” he says as he grinds down in that one spot, making your tears run down more. He’s already bought you 3 orgasms, any more you’ll fucking die. He’s back to thrusting like a mad man, he’s already cum once. This man's stamina was going to last you till morning.

[vonbaghager]

just throwing my ideas onto my blog so they’re not buzzing around in my head anymore. DBD fan-killers: The Barber, the Abomination and the Ignited.

EDIT: And a new one, the Faceless.

The Barber, spawned entirely from a single mental image in which I imagined a killer that uses a straight razor as a weapon, cleaning it off by grinding it against a sharpening strop tied to the other arm.

Short lore blurb: Was an Old Time-y Barber, the ones that did both haircuts and surgeries. His own failing health had him search for occult methods to keep himself alive, using drawn blood as sacrifice. Eventually dove deep enough into occult lore to find out about the Entity, and became enamored with both the idea of eternal life in its realm, and with the creature itself. Strove to catch its attention by using the surgical prowess he’d learned to craft “masterpieces of agony” on unwitting victims, hoping that their pain and terror would draw the creature to him. Eventually, he received an anonymous gift: An immaculately-crafted straight razor that grew sharper as it cut flesh and bone until the victims didn’t even realize they had been cut until a single solid blow or attempt at exertion blew open all of their wounds at once.

Eventually fucked up and caught the attention of an Angry Mob, but by then had earned his place in the Entity’s Realm and fled into a foggy night, never to be seen again.

Base stats: 115% movespeed. 32 meter terror radius. Medium height (Freddy height).

Active Power: Masterpiece of Agony. Base cooldown: 5 seconds. Enter a special animation with a 1.5 second charge time, during which the Barber cannot make a normal attack but gains speed, up to 130% for up to 5 seconds. Lunging out of this state causes the Barber to madly swipe the razor out, striking every Survivor in the path of the lunge, afflicting them with a special status effect: Agonized. The Barber is greatly slowed for 1 second after the ability ends, whether he lunges or not.

An Agonized survivor’s bloodstains and grunts of pain are magnified until the status effect ends. If an Agonized survivor performs any strenuous action, such as fast-vaulting, dropping a pallet, or missing a check when repairing a generator, the Agonized state ends and the Survivor becomes injured while screaming in pain, potentially alerting the Barber. Being struck by Masterpiece of Agony while already Agonized harms the survivor as if they were attacked, meaning performing a strenuous action will drop them to dying. Agonized can be cured in the same manner as Deep Wounds.

Passive power: Sadist. The Barber’s movement speed and lunge distance is increased for every Survivor currently Agonized, hooked, or dead.

Unique Perks:

A Shrine to my Love: Your adoration for the Entity brings you comfort when you are closest to it. The cooldown of your missed attacks is reduced by [25/30/40]% while within 13 meters of the Basement. The wiggling of a survivor in your grasp has a [moderately/greatly/tremendously] reduced effect on your movement while you are within 13 meters of the Basement.

Serrated Hooks: You’ve made creative additions to the Basement, increasing the hold it has over its victims. A survivor on a Basement hook has their chance of escaping it on their own reduced [greatly/tremendously/completely], and is painfully aware of this fact*. A survivor pulled off a Basement hook is affected by both Hemorrhage and Broken for [16/20/24] seconds.

*the survivor receives a notification about the Serrated Hooks upon being speared on one, which lingers until they’re freed. Survivors rescuing their fellows from the Basement are also alerted to the Serrated Hooks.

Grasp of the Shrike: Yes, they will do. They will do nicely. The diamond atop the ring, as it were. You and the Entity become Obsessed with one survivor, clinging to them tightly and never letting go. The Obsession takes [0.5/0.8/1.0] extra seconds to unhook. Whenever the Obsession dies, another random survivor becomes the new Obsession after 13 seconds.

---------------

The Abomination, based on the video game archetype of “really fat guy with a grappling hook” that’s really just Blizzard but leaks into other games now and then.

Once a gluttonous ruler in the past, he wished for his feast to never end, sparing no expense to have food brought to him from all over the world even as his subjects starved in the streets. When death came for him, he fought with every fiber of his being to remain in the world of the living, tearing his soul free from death’s grasp and forcing it back into his bloated body. He continued to live, but did not belong, beginning to rot and decay even as he brought in the greatest doctors and surgeons to restore him, using the very people he neglected as replacement parts for his increasingly aberrant body.

Never one to waste food, the remains of those slain to restore him were added to his menu, and soon he discovered a love of the taste for the humanity he became further and further divorced from. Ironically, he became a much better ruler the more monstrous he became, if only because the healthy and fat citizens made for better parts and better plates, but eventually it was found out just where the criminals of this prosperous land were disappearing to, and the hideous ruler was threatened with a second death.

Knowing death would not let him escape a second time, he fled from his prosperous land, but soon encountered a problem: he had not stopped rotting, and without a supply of fresh parts, he would succumb sooner or later. He spent his every last coin and gemstone seeking a cure for this condition, slaughtering those he met upon the lonely roads as he fought to remain whole, and eventually he found a solution. He would never again taste the succulence of the world he was leaving behind, but the new world held a banquet for him that would never grow dull. He wished for a feast that would never end, and the Entity granted it.

Base stats: 110% movement. 44 meter terror radius. Large size (Plague height)

Active Power: Glutton’s Grasp. Base cooldown: 8 seconds. The Abomination is slowed as it lets down a lengthy meat hook and begins loudly twirling it around. Any survivor that comes too close to the Abomination in this stance interrupts it but is damaged by the hook as if attacked. Attacking while in this stance flings the hook up to 10 meters outwards, which is blocked by terrain. If a survivor is struck by the hook, they scream and are pulled 5 meters towards the Abomination and become slowed for 2 seconds. If the survivor is pulled directly adjacent to the Abomination, its middle splits open to unveil the Great Maw, which bites into the survivor, damaging them and causing them to become Mangled for 1 minute.

The hook can also interact with certain props. Striking a partially repaired generator stuns the Abomination for 0.75 seconds as a current runs through it but damages the generator as though it had kicked the gen, causing it to regress. Striking a dropped palette stuns the Abomination for 2 seconds as it pulls the wood into the Great Maw, chewing it to pieces.

Once per trial: The Abomination can stand over a survivor who has been hooked at least twice and use the Great Maw to swallow them whole, sacrificing them instantly and becoming hasted for 2 minutes.

Passive: Corpulent Corpse. The Abomination is considerably wider than other killers, making it difficult to sneak or dash past it if it’s in a narrow enough area.

Unique Perks:

Varied Diet. Even the most luxurious banquet can grow boring without variety. Each time you strike a survivor with your basic attack, gain a token, to a maximum of 4/6/8 tokens. Each token grants you 1/2/3% increased movement speed and vaulting speed. Striking the same survivor twice in a row causes you to lose 2 tokens. 

Hex: Abattoir. This Hex turns the lockers within the trial into deathtraps for your victims. An injured survivor hiding in a locker bleeds profusely, creating a noticeable pool of blood. If a survivor lingers in a locker for 20/15/10 seconds, they become injured, or are pushed into the dying state if already injured.

Starved Rush. The scent of their flesh, the smell of their blood, it calls to you, driving you into a frenzy the longer you go without it. You enter Bloodlust [slightly/moderately/considerably] faster and do not immediately lose it if you break a pallet.

--------------- 

The Ignited. Had the mental image of someone undergoing an Oni-style rage transformation, except they burst into flames.

There’s not much of a story for this one tbh. Probably someone who was burned at the stake and called down horrific vengeance for their unawful destruction, becoming what they were accused of (a vampire, a witch, a werewolf, etc). The alternate tale that I like more is that they were just a pyromaniac that finally decided to burn down their own house with them inside so they could feel what their victims felt.

Base stats: 105% movement. 16 meter terror radius. Medium size (Blight height)

Active Power, Kindling form: Choking Smog. Base cooldown: 20 seconds. Unleash a cloud of black smoke the Ignited can perfectly see through, but which is completely opaque for survivors. The smoke spreads outwards to cover a 11 meter radius, choking survivors inside of it, causing them to loudly cough. Survivors in the smog are Exhausted and slowed. The cloud lingers for 6 seconds.

Passive power (Cinder Form): Building Inferno. The Ignited is unaffected by the trial’s fog. The Ignited can interact with piles of tormented kindling that spawn throughout the trial, gathering energy from each of them. The Ignited can also gather energy by damaging generators and survivors, and hooking survivors. At maximum charge, the Ignited can activate the secondary power to explode into their Wildfire Form. All the survivors receive a notification when the Ignited enters Wildfire Form as it shrieks in agony and rage.

The Ignited in Wildfire Form has a terror radius that covers the entire map, moves at 130% speed, and becomes taller than the Plague. A pillar of fire and smoke travels up from its body to signify its position at all times. Wildfire Form lasts for 1 minute, after which it drops back to Cinder Form.

Active Power (Wildfire Form): Pyroclasm. The Ignited charges up briefly and then blasts an incredibly wide cone in front of it (roughly equal to its FOV but only 6 meters in length). Survivors in the area are damaged, generators in the area begin regressing, and dropped pallets in the area begin burning and will be fully destroyed after 5 seconds unless a survivor slides across them. Survivors injured--but not downed--by Pyroclasm gain a unique status effect: On Fire! Survivors who are On Fire glow softly with flame and their auras are revealed to the Ignited, shouting and screaming as long as they remain On Fire. On Fire lasts for 1 minute, until the survivor is put into the dying state, until they vault a pallet or window, or until they stop moving and spend 3 seconds patting themselves down.

Unique Perks:

Smokesight: The fog thickens in your presence, though it’s no impediment to you. The trial fog is [slightly/moderately/considerably] thicker, though you see through it as if it were two stages lighter.

Hex: Fear of Failure: To build a tower so tall just to see it fall before you, it is a feeling that can invoke despair in any, and one this Hex enhances to self-destructive levels. If you kick a generator that has been repaired above [75%/50%/25%] progress while your totem still stands, the last survivor(s) to work on that generator shriek in frustration and are highlighted for 3 seconds if they are within [24/32/40] meters.

Hex: Trap in the Blaze: Lock them inside. Seal the windows, bar the door. Let them burn. Let them burn. Let them burn. When the exit gates are powered, this Hex flares to life if there is a dull totem for it to inhabit. The switch to the gates is partially infested by the Entity, slowing all attempts to touch it. Interacting with the switch takes an extra [3/4/5] seconds. Abandoning the exit switch causes it to slowly regress.

--------------- 

The Faceless. what if there was a stealth killer even more humanoid than the pig?

Not sure of a backstory here. Either a member of an ancient species trying to avoid total extinction, or an envious human who altered their own bodies with strange chemicals, vile magic, and horrible operations until they could look like anyone they wanted. 

Base stats: 110% movement. 32 meter terror radius. Large size (Demogorgon height in true form).

Active power: Assume Guise. The Faceless loudly and grotesquely reshapes its body into the shape of a random survivor in the trial, letting all survivors within the terror radius hear the cracking and squishing just before the terror radius abruptly vanishes. The noises are noticeable enough to be heard a short distance outside the terror radius, akin to the Wraith or the Spirit vanishing. Any survivor within a 15 meter radius is briefly highlighted by Killer Instinct after the transformation is complete. While disguised, the Faceless has no terror radius and is treated by the game as though it were a survivor. If its aura becomes revealed by any perk or item, it appears as though it were a survivor, even if the perk or item reveals the killer’s aura only.

While it can crouch and sprint as a normal survivor, the Faceless cannot interact with props like a survivor can, with the exception of vaulting pallets or windows. It cannot open chests, repair generators, or sabotage hooks. When it assumes a survivor’s shape, it cannot copy any items they hold, nor can it pick one up or use them. If the survivor its copying is injured, it is not. Its voice as a survivor is ever-so-slightly distorted.

Assuming its true form is a horrid affair, stunning the killer for 2 seconds as it bursts from its former body. After transforming back, the Faceless is hasted for 4 seconds and Assume Guise is placed on a 10 second cooldown.

Active power (disguised form): Backstab. If the Faceless performs the healing action on a survivor using the secondary power button, it acts as though it’s healing them for 5 seconds, after which it suddenly strikes, afflicting the target with Deep Wounds and Hindered and beginning its transformation back.

Unique Perks

Hex: False Friendship. This Hex confounds and distorts your aura, leading your prey to blunder into your grasp. While the totem stands, any time your aura would be revealed, it appears as though it’s a survivor aura, and the survivor(s) reading your aura are highlighted by Killer Instinct for [8/12/16] seconds if they’re within 40 meters of you.

Subtle Sabotage: Your machinations are much more insidious than that of your brutish kin. After kicking a generator, the generator becomes Sabotaged for [60/80/120] seconds, regressing continuously even as it’s being worked on, effectively halving the speed it’s repaired at. A sabotaged generator loses this status if it fully regresses, or if the survivors working on it succeed [2/3/4] Great skill checks on it without abandoning it. Sabotaged gens are highlighted to the survivors, and survivors working on a sabotaged gen are aware of how much longer the status will last and how many skill checks are required to undo it.

Calming Emanations: Let them have their hope, if only so it’s more spectacular when it shatters. Each uninjured survivor reduces your terror radius by [18/20/22]%.

[baepop]

Sacrifice 2

You return home, hoping to find the answers you desperately search for.

Word Count: 9.7k

Pairing: You x BTS Members

Genre: Thriller, Smut, Angst

Warnings: OC is fucked in the head basically (disturbing thoughts, actions); gore, graphic descriptions and self-harm

Part 1 | Part 2

He’s trying his hardest, but those pesky crimson marks just won’t come out. He’s tried everything he could think of, even followed a few stain removal tutorials on YouTube, but the unsightly blood stains have seeped deep into the fabric of his upholstery. He regrets neglecting the condition of the interior of his car for so long.

Even still, as he looks down at his soiled car seat, he can’t help but smile while imagining the satisfaction you might’ve felt to know he couldn’t completely erase you from his life. You had always managed to find a way to cling onto him, it seems, even now in the afterlife.

Namjoon carefully backed away from the entrance of the passenger side of his car to take a breather. He wiped the sweat off his brow and rubbed his hand on his shorts, huffing at the sight of his failure. He pursed his lips, mulling over what cleaning agents he might have left in his terribly stocked apartment that could do the trick. Suddenly, he slammed his fist on the hood of the car, overcome with emotions of regret. He allowed himself to feel for just a minute before taking a deep breath and hunching over the seat again to begin scrubbing more forcefully.

But just as he began abusing the seat once more, a tiny hand clutched at the tail of his sweater and yanked lightly a few times to get his attention. He whipped his head around only to find the neighbor’s daughter staring up at him, a bit of fear in her eyes. She was only 5, and she must’ve seen Namjoon lose his cool for a second just now, given the slight quiver in her bottom lip.

Namjoon stared at the child for a moment before backing out of the car again and picking her up. He nestled her into his side, giving her a big smile and wiggling her hand about while greeting her in a silly voice. She giggled shyly, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck.

“Mommy said to come get you.” She stated her mission matter-of-factly before burying her head in the crook of his neck as she’d done countless times before.

“Okay, then let’s go see what Mommy needs this time, shall we?” The little girl nodded as they crossed the lawn into her mother’s property. Namjoon knocked a few times before letting himself into the door ajar. The smell of overcooked chicken filled his nostrils at once.

“Um, hello?” He called out to no one in particular. He was greeted by an empty living room.

“In here!” The voice came from the kitchen where his neighbor was busy preparing an early dinner. Namjoon put the little girl down but she grabbed two of his fingers and led him into the kitchen.

“Oh, hi ma’am. Did you need something?”

The woman rolled her eyes as she blew on a piece of steaming chicken before popping it into her mouth to taste. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Yong?! Ma’am is my mother.” Namjoon blushed and hung his head in embarrassment, smiling at the ground and nodding. “You know, we’re not that different in age, only a few years apart. But I get it though, turning 30 still seems like a huge change to people in their 20’s.”

“Oh, I uh, no that’s not— I’m sorry, Yong.” Namjoon clears his throat while the older woman chuckled.

“I hope you weren’t busy, Namjoon.”

“No, no not at all!”

“It’s just that my bathroom sink is leaking, and I have no idea what’s going on! My husband won’t be home for a couple more days and—”

“Oh, it’s no issue! I’ll take a look at it, probably just a simple fix.” Namjoon smiled at her brightly and motioned towards the bathroom for permission. She beamed as he let himself further into her house.

Namjoon entered her small bathroom, immediately turning on the sink to see what the issue was. As the water trickled from the base, he opened the bottom cabinets and crouched down, sticking his head into the confined space to get a better look. He ran his fingers over the tubing, nodding to himself as he turned off the water and joined Yong and her child in the kitchen once again.

“There’s hardly a problem. Your plumbers’ putty ran dry, and it was especially thin to begin with, but it’s nothing more putty won’t fix! I actually have some to spare in my apartment, I’ll go grab it really quick.”

“No no no, sit! Dinner’s ready, you can do that after!” Namjoon parted his lips to protest but his stomach growled extra loudly. The small child giggled, pulling on his fingers to lead him to his place set at the dinner table.

Although Namjoon wanted to be polite and refuse the meal, the truth was that he wasn’t eating too well these days. You had always been over his house making him food, so his meals as of late consisted of microwaved noodles and handfuls of goldfish crackers.

Namjoon thanked the woman for the hot meal, wasting no time on stuffing his face.

“No, thank you. You’ve been such a big help around here for so long! It’s been rough this year with my husband’s enlistment,” Namjoon nodded along, making eye contact as he shoved spoonfuls of rice into his already full mouth, “and especially so this past month.”

Namjoon perked up at the ambiguous statement, “How so?”

“Well—”

“I’m getting a littwe bwother!” The small child exclaimed joyously from across the dinner table. Namjoon froze with his unchewed food on display, looking over at Yong who was embarrassed by the outburst.

“Well, it’s still too early to know the sex but, she’s really hoping for a boy.” The woman smiled at her daughter who was picking up pieces of food with her tiny fingers and attempting to feed it to her stuffed animal who also had a place at the dinner table beside her. Yong looked over at Namjoon who had not taken his eyes off her once, nor closed his mouth for that matter. She blushed, looking down and speaking in a low tone so that her child wouldn’t understand, “Don’t worry, it’s not yours.”

Namjoon’s eyes lacked emotion. What she mistook for fear and anger was simply calculation on his part. “Are you positive?”

The woman sighed then smiled again, putting a hand on his shoulder and maintaining eye contact. “Yes, I’m sure. Now, finish your dinner.”

The boy nodded, bringing his attention back to his now unappetizing plate of food. He had already done the math; the child was definitely his.

The conversation lulled, so they both hurried through eating. Once his plate was empty enough, Namjoon sprang up to his feet and announced that he’d return with some putty in just a moment.

As he let himself out into the evening air, he noticed it was finally starting to become cooler. He walked across the lawn and over to his place with his hands in his pockets, whistling his favorite tune.

The next day, he went to work as normal, driving his car across town to the grocery store he managed and parking it in a residential street since the parking lot looked full when he passed by. On his trek up the block, he noticed a bright white flier stapled to the telephone pole at the corner. As he got closer, he recognized a picture of Jin plastered front and center with the words reward if found written underneath it. Seokjin came from money, so Namjoon wasn’t surprised about the lengths his parents were going to to get their son back. Besides, he already knew they would do this since he’s the one that sent them that picture of Jin.

Namjoon ripped the flier that had threatened to bring forth his turbulent emotions to the surface once more from its staples, crumpling it up and shoving it into his pocket. Luckily, this wasn’t enough to ruin his good mood today.

“Good morning.” Namjoon nodded towards his staff members as he entered into the cool facility. Everyone greeted him back, relieved to have him in the building as there were already issues that needed solving even this early in the morning. But before they could begin hounding him for directions, one of his assistant managers pulled him to the side.

“Someone’s here to see you. I told them you wouldn’t be in until later on today, but they insisted on waiting. They’re in your office, I hope that’s okay.” Namjoon smiled at the girl and assured her everything was fine. He watched her walk away before turning down the hallway towards his office. As soon as he opened the door, a very worried Jungkook shot up from the small couch that lined the wall. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his eyes were panicked. He gripped the flyer of Seokjin in one hand and his phone in the other.

Now this, this was enough to put Namjoon in a bad mood. He sighed and closed the door behind him.

Your eyes opened and were immediately flooded with bright white light from all directions. You shut them quickly, then reopened them little by little, trying to adjust to the setting. The first thing you noticed were curtains billowing at the foot of your bed. They were white, just like everything else in the room.

Wait, a bed?

You craned your neck to get a better look at what you were laying on, but your body was stiff, so you plopped back down and took a deep breath, letting your eyes wander instead.

The sun was shining brightly and illuminating the dreary room you’d been left in. You were definitely in a hospital, you realized, as you noticed multiple beds with curtains drawn around them.

Why am I here?

You laid there, trying to remember something, anything, but you only drew incomplete memories. You closed your eyes, trying to make sense of everything. It was all a painful haze, reels of jumping into a river, and blinding car lights at the forefront. Suddenly you recalled being shaken and yelled at, the voice sounding as if through a tunnel full of water, and the face more ambiguous still. But his grip was strong on you, bruising your shoulders with his vehemence to get you to understand.

Get it together kid!

You gasp as your eyes burst open. “Jin!” You yell out and a nurse who was most definitely not Jin rushed in.

“Ah, you’re awake!” The older woman came to your side to check how you were doing. She doesn’t know anyone by the name of Jin, much to your disappointment. “Do you remember anything about what happened to you?” She pulled up a chair by your bed with your chart in her hands. You shake your head in denial. It’s not a lie, but the little that you do remember, you want to hold onto for a bit longer in order to piece together this puzzle on your own. “What’s your name?” You hesitated, then shook your head once more. She nodded in understanding, flipping a page up before turning back to you and speaking in a soothing tone. “Miss, you were found on the side of the road a couple miles from here in critical condition. You underwent a septic miscarriage, but your body showed signs of extreme stress and battery as well. It appears you were unconscious for a couple of days before you were found and, luckily, we were able to bring your fever down and get your blood pressure back to a normal state which halted the beginnings of organ failure evident in your body.” You nodded along to everything she said, but none of it was making any sense. You just couldn’t believe she was talking about you. She had to have been looking at someone else’s chart. “You’ve been administered antibiotics to treat the infection. I have to say, though, you’re one hell of a fighter! We weren’t sure you’d wake up after the medically induced coma you were under, but here you are!” The woman smiled brightly then paused before continuing, giving you a stern look. “You were in pretty bad condition hun. So,” she reached out and placed her withered hand over your own, “the minute you remember anything, you let us know. Okay?” You nodded sullenly, just wanting to be left alone. “Now…this Jin person…”

“He wouldn’t.” You looked at her sharply, not letting her even think that he could be capable of doing something like this to you. The woman nodded and stood up.

“I’ll give you a minute to be alone.”

You watched her retreat back into the hustle and bustle of the hospital hallway as you plopped your head against the pillow. Considering the kinds of questions she was asking you and the kind of room you had woken up in, you surmised that you had been counted as another Jane Doe, placed into a room full of other unidentified people who had been dying.

Whenever you went out, you always made sure to have your ID and your phone on you, so you wondered if you had been robbed and attacked. But why was I alone and so far from home? Suddenly the face of the person you missed most popped into your head.

Namjoon.

The thought of something so awful happening to you without the love of your life by your side to comfort you was too much to bear.

You rolled over on your side and let hot tears spill from the corners of your eyes, moistening the crisp linen sheets. As the evening went on, your silent crying became more audible, your body shaking with both physical and emotional pain. You hugged yourself tightly, processing the realization that you had lost Namjoon’s baby, and you were now all alone again.

By the time night came, you had rolled over to cry while staring up at the ceiling, letting your sobs be heard now that the hospital was quiet. It always felt better to let loose while crying instead of doing it in secret, besides, everyone in your room was in a coma anyway, or so you thought.

In the middle of the night, you heard a groaning that morphed into a cry of frustration. Suddenly the curtains around the bed diagonal from yours were yanked open violently and piercing angry eyes drilled holes into your watery ones.

“I stayed quiet all day, pretending not to be awake so that you could have some privacy, but now you’ve been crying for 8 fucking hours and I’m trying to sleep. So could you please, for the love of Christ—”

“JIN!” You bolted upright then winced, mildly regretting your excitement for a second. The boy paused, furrowing his eyebrows as he watched you carefully climb out of bed and slowly hobble over to him in your billowing night gown.

Once you got to his bedside, your eyes watered again seeing him all bandaged up and staring up at you dumbfoundedly.

“What the hell happened to us…” You began crying again, leaning into him for a hug and sobbing on his chest. He groaned again, rolling his eyes and patting your back.

“Listen lady, I don’t know why you keep calling me Jin but—” You froze, backing off of him and wiping your eyes as you realized the bandages around his head must’ve been more severe than you thought.

You limped over to the foot of his bed and picked up his medical chart, reading over it quickly. You winced at the extensive list of procedures they had to operate on him once he was found. But thankfully, it was still possible for him to regain his memory one day.

Days, upwards of a year with daily physical therapy. You read the words before closing his chart with a sigh, looking back over at your friend who was regarding you warily. You couldn’t help but feel like this was all somehow his fault. Still, even if it was, you wouldn’t know for sure since neither of you remembered what happened.

“Um, that’s… I don’t think you’re supposed to look at other people’s charts…” You smiled and retook your place by his side.

“It’s okay for me to look.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because I’m your fiancé!” The boy cocked his head back, stunned into silence. He gave you a once over with his eyes, lifting up your left hand for inspection.

“Oh yeah? Then where’s the engagement ring?”

You pulled your hand out of his grasp. “You proposed without one…because we decided we’d go buy one together.”

Jin scoffed, “Yeah well, proposing without a ring doesn’t sound like something I’d do.”

You rolled your eyes. Yeah well, proposing isn’t something you’d ever do either.

“Okay fine, I’ll prove it by telling you something only your fiancé would know.” Jin sat up, watching you curiously as you sat pensive at the edge of his bed.

“Your dick hangs a little bit to the right when it’s hard.” Jin smiled, scratching his cheek in embarrassment.

“Well, I mean…technically, a lot of girls would know that.” You rolled your eyes again, trying to think about something intimate he might’ve shared with you during your years of friendship.

“You started smoking cigarettes when you were 12 because that’s when your dad left, and the smell of smoke always made you feel close to him.” Jin dropped his hand as he looked at you with renewed curiosity. He didn’t remember saying that to anyone ever, probably because he was piss drunk when he said it to you during one of your many smoke breaks together, or because he’d lost his memory. Still, he couldn’t deny that you must’ve been someone important to him if you knew something like that about him.

“So…you’re…my fiancé?” You nodded, taking his hand and rubbing circles onto his knuckles for added effect. You watched him as he visibly processed the news. You weren’t sure what the last thing he remembered was, but it had to be from years ago since he didn’t even know who you were. “Then…what exactly happened? I heard the nurse say something about a miscarriage…”

You nodded at Jin sullenly, clutching at your abdomen as your head hung low. Tears welled in your eyes, but you quickly dabbed at any that fell. “I’m sorry.”

Jin was stricken with sadness. He didn’t feel connected to you or the situation, but the thought of him and you losing a baby, he could understand to be awful. He made space for you on his bed and pulled you onto him, hesitantly rubbing your head as you curled into his side. You two slept together side by side for the night, but you awoke at the crashing sound of thunder and lightning close by only a few hours later.

Your eyes burst open at the sound, immediately checking to see if Jin was awake too. The room was still dark even though it was very early in the morning. The rain clouds blocked much light from coming into the room as it was.

You searched Jin’s face, but he still laid peacefully asleep, so you laid back down and nestled into his side. It’d been forever since you’d cuddled someone, or even made love to anyone. Knowing there wasn’t much fabric standing in the way of your naked bodies wasn’t helping the dull ache in between your legs.

You rubbed your thighs together, letting your eyes trail his features. You’d always thought Jin was attractive, but anytime his mouth would open the illusion would crumble.

But now that his memory was gone, he was different, nice even.

You brought your hand up to his chest, hesitating before placing your palm gently over his heart. You felt it beating strong and steadily.

Your hand trailed downwards, ever so lightly over the fabric of his medical gown. You ran your fingertips over the expanse of his abs, making your way towards his pubic area until his hand clamped around your wrist, halting it from moving further down. Your heart stopped for a second, since you had been sure he was unconscious.

Suddenly you heard his groggy morning voice speaking deeply just above your head.

“Don’t start something you’re not going to be able to finish.” You looked up at Seokjin who was suddenly wide awake and regarding you curiously, a challenging glint in his eyes.

“Since you lost your memory, allow me to remind you how I always finish.” You challenged him back, smiling when he let go of your hand. You cupped his member, squeezing just a bit to earn a hiss from the handsome brunette.

It was just early enough so that the medical staff wouldn’t barge in and bother you just yet, so you decided not to waste any time. You quickly exposed his bottom half, licking your lips at the sight of the hard on that already awaited you. But as you lowered your head onto his length, you noticed all of the bruises that littered his body, and the bandages wrapped around his torso. You frowned, looking up at him with pity in your eyes.

“Jin…” You sat up fully, remembering the list of injuries from his medical chart.  

He sighed and met your eyes, “It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“No, I do. I’ll be gentle, just let me know if anything hurts, okay?” He nodded, watching you as you climbed over his midsection and nestled your legs on either side of him.

You sat on his dick gingerly, your lack of clothing under your gown earning you direct skin to skin contact. You supported most of your weight but applied enough pressure to tease him in between your folds. He hissed as you looked up, wondering if you had hurt him already, but seeing his lustful eyes trained on your core told you otherwise. You swirled your hips sensually, moving the head of his dick vertically in between your legs to get it wet with your arousal. It wasn’t long before he was moving his hips to the rhythm of yours, eager to enter you already.

You obliged, sighing contentedly as you held his dick up to your entrance and sank down onto him until he bottomed out. Jin crinkled his eyes shut focusing on the feeling of you around him. He struggled to keep his breath even, not wanting to alert the staff about what was going on, but god damn you felt so good that it was proving difficult already.

You noticed how fucked out he was already and knew he wouldn’t last long at all, which was perfect for you because you were really only looking for one thing.

You began swaying your hips carefully, testing the waters to see what was enjoyable for him and what was painful. Soon you were bouncing on him up and down, determined to get him to cum. Jin gave up on being quiet, letting himself moan and grunt the more you humped him. Your hand held up the fabric of your gown above your belly, letting him get a full view of you fucking him. You smirked, thinking about how mad Jin will be when he regains his memory only to realize you finally gave him a round two, but only when he had amnesia.

Suddenly, the boy took hold of your hips and held them still, a burning look in his eyes.

“Did I hurt you? I’m sorr—”

“No, just. Stop, for a second. You’re…going to be my wife. But this feels like our first time for me so, I don’t want to rush through it.” Your heart stuttered and a lump formed in your throat, not that you wanted to say anything anyway. You’d never seen him so vulnerable and tender before. Suddenly you felt guilty for lying to him, but nonetheless you let him pull you into his chest for a kiss.

It was sweet and slow. You hesitated at first, letting him part your lips and press them into yours. You closed your eyes, your heart thrumming a mile a minute as you kissed him back. He held you by the waist as his fingers rubbed at your sides. They snuck underneath your gown and began exploring your body, first feeling the curves of your waist then sliding up towards your breasts. You looked away from him, blushing furiously as his tiny touches sent shivers down your spine. To be this intimate and romantic with Seokjin was proving to be too much for you. Yet as his hands traveled around your back and downwards, giving your ass a healthy squeeze, your walls couldn’t help closing in around him. He moaned at the motion, looking up at you in time to receive your hungry lips on his once more. He brought his hands up to your face, holding it close to his own as you two made out passionately.

Your mind raced as your tongues swirled around in each other’s mouths. Kissing him felt foreign, but in a good way. Although you already knew what his dick felt like inside of you, you’d never known what his mouth on yours felt like until now. It was weird to think about who exactly was kissing you, yet not too weird, since you’d been around each other for so long now that his scent filling your nostrils was comforting instead of revolting. It was like learning something you had forgotten about. You were surprised to find how much you had actually liked it.

It wasn’t long before Jin began groaning into the kiss, feeling how wet you suddenly were and how easily he was moving inside of you without fully moving his hips. You bit your lip, feeling needier than ever with the lack of movement.

Suddenly you sat up a bit to begin bouncing again, but he grabbed you by the neck, biting his own lip as he surveyed your body. You were driving him absolutely wild and we wanted nothing more than to fuck you into the bed. But he knew he couldn’t move much for now, so he settled for fucking up into you as best he could.

Jin’s hand moved into your hair, grabbing it like a ponytail and tugging on it roughly so that more of your neck was exposed. His other hand gripped at your waist, holding you up as he began bucking his hips up into you. The combination of his tight hold on your hair and his forceful thrusts had you feeling the beginnings of an orgasm.

Your hands found his arms and held on for dear life as your walls began contracting around his cock. Sinful sounds filled the room as you lost your ability to keep quiet. His impressive length was hitting your g spot in the most delicious way and it had you keeling over him when your orgasm hit like a ton of bricks. You tightened your legs on his sides, shutting your eyes yet still seeing stars. Jin was satisfied with seeing you cum since he was already so tired that he couldn’t hold back his own climax for much longer.

“Fuck, where should I cum?” Jin spoke through gritted teeth, letting go of your hair in favor of holding your waist with both hands.

You leaned over him and kissed him deeply, then leaned in further to whisper in his ear. “Cum inside.”

Jin’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and your wish was his command. He found it so incredibly hot that he was already spilling his seed into you after a few more strokes. He grunted loudly, bucking up into you a few more times before settling down in a sweat. You sat on top of him for a few moments more, catching your breaths in unison.

The boy was spent, barely having enough energy to cover himself back up. He ended up drifting to sleep when you climbed off of him, which was better for you, since you didn’t want to have to pretend to be in love with him.

You hummed as you slowly made your way over to your bed, fetching a magazine before you climbed onto the mattress and laid down on your back. You propped your feet up on the windowsill and began flipping through the glossy decorated pages, imagining that this position would definitely increase your odds of getting pregnant.

It wasn’t until the chill of October had set in that you found yourself in your hometown again.

You had missed Namjoon terribly while you were away recovering that visiting his house was the very first thing you wanted to do. You needed to see him desperately, to see if he missed you as much as you did him, and to see if he was worried sick that you had been missing for months. You’d never gotten a chance to tell him about the baby, so you were hoping he’d have a positive reaction when he saw you now. You knew he’d always wanted to be a dad, and you wanted to be the one to give him that joy, no matter what.

You walked the few blocks from your house to his, taking in the neighborhood as you did so. Even with the drastic change in temperature since you were last here, it was as if nothing had changed. Yet you couldn’t help but feel wholly changed on the inside. You’d realized just how precious life was while you laid in that hospital bed, and you didn’t want to waste another minute not being with the man you had pined over for years.

As his house came into view, you instantly knew he wasn’t home. His car wasn’t in the driveway and his lights were off. Nonetheless you knocked on the front door, waiting a few minutes before descending his front porch in disappointment. You wondered if he was at work, though you didn’t think so given the time and the day.

As you pondered on where to go next, a small red ball bounced against your foot. You bent down to pick it up, only to make eye contact with a small girl that had come running up to you. She had gorgeous tan skin and dimples with sparkling curious eyes.

“Sowwy…”

You smiled at the shy toddler, placing the ball into her tiny outstretched hands. “What’s your name?”

“My mommy says not to tawk to stwangers.”

Just then, a smiling blonde woman comes into view, rubbing the head of the toddler who hugged her leg and shielded her body from you. You looked up at her questioning eyes.

“Sorry! I always tell her not to play with her ball so close to the sidewalk!” You giggle, shaking your head to let her know the girl wasn’t bothering you. You can’t help but rake in her figure, lingering on her mid-section.

“How far along are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Ah,” the woman rubs her belly absentmindedly, “just 3 months! It’s been so hectic, nothing like the easy pregnancy I had with this little one.” She pinched the cheek of her daughter, and you don’t miss the way the girl’s almond eyes turn into crescent moons when she smiles at the comment she undoubtedly doesn’t understand.

“No kidding, I’m actually 5 months along myself!” The woman’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh, congratulations! How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s not my first, but I absolutely love it. I feel like I’m glowing from the inside out.” The woman smiled, trying to contain her surprise given how young you looked. She followed your eyes as you glanced at Namjoon’s house for a second before turning back to her.

“Oh, you were looking for Namjoon? I think he went out to buy some supplies. Are you a friend of his or…” You furrowed your brow, a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach forming as you observed the slightly possessive tone in her voice. “I just, always used to see you around here, so I was wondering…”

You smiled brightly at the woman, watching her follow your hand on your stomach with her eyes. “Oh, it’s okay! He’s my boyfriend, but he’ll probably be a lot more than that now…” You smiled to yourself, looking down at your feet with satisfaction.

“Of course…” Yong tried her best to sound nonchalant, but you caught the way her voice sounded dejected, and she was suddenly looking everywhere else but at you. You looked down at her daughter, feeling a small seed of annoyance growing inside you.

“What’s your name, again?”

“Yongsun.”

“Yongsun,” You let the name hang in the air while you turned it over in your head. It left a bad taste in your mouth, “if it’s not too much trouble, can I bother you for a glass of water? The walk over here tired me out.” You both laughed half-heartedly, neither of you caring to feign friendship for much longer.

“Sure. C’mon, let’s get the nice lady something to drink!” Yong lifted her daughter onto her hip and began walking towards her home. You followed closely behind, hoping to find the answers you needed without having to engage in any more nauseating small talk.

You took in her quaint home with children’s toys strewn all about. The child ran to her play pen while the woman busied herself with finding a clean glass, leaving you with enough privacy to ogle at the pictures hanging on the wall.

You looked at a few of Yong and her daughter at the park before stopping at a family portrait that seemed to have been taken when the woman’s daughter was only a few months old. The man holding her, whom you presumed to be the woman’s husband, looked nothing like the kid.

Your mouth twisted in disgust, and you stomped out of her house before she could come back and shove her triumph over Namjoon in your face some more.

You hated her, and you hated him, and you hated their perfect little kid and their perfect little neighborly romance seeped in infidelity. You hated that you weren’t her, and you hated that he made you want to be someone other than yourself.

The annoyance you had felt when you had first laid eyes on the child had boiled into a violent rage that you couldn’t contain once you got home. You ran into your room and slammed the door, looking around for something to break. You started with the posters on the walls, tearing them down impatiently. The sounds of ripping paper made you feel better, but it still wasn’t enough, you needed more. Suddenly your hand flew across your dresser and knocked down all of your products. You shoved your lamp onto the floor too, panting and looking around wildly.

Your influx of emotions and memories brought on a headache that had you stumbling back onto your bed. You clutched at the sides of your face, balling your shaking fists as a haunting scene played inside your head like a movie. You saw her hair, flowing in the cold water, and her alabaster skin glowing in the dark. Her limbs were stiff, and her eyes were still open in the water, yet it seemed as if they still had enough life in them to stare at you accusingly. Her finger pointed in your direction as if to say you’re next.

Suddenly you saw yourself screaming silently, trekking up the side of the mountain in wet clothing, hiding in fear from your friends, walking aimlessly through the woods, trying to get home because you felt unsafe. You remembered desperately trying to put as much distance between yourself and them as possible because you needed you and your baby to live.

Now you hated them, too. They did this to you and Namjoon. They tried to drive a wedge in between you two. Maybe they were jealous. Maybe…

Maybe that’s why Namjoon was in love with someone who wasn’t you, because of them.

You punched your mattress repeatedly, feeling betrayed by the people you had called your friends for years. You tried to calm yourself down, knowing that negative emotions could negatively impact the fetus, but you suddenly felt anxious. You wanted to know why, why they would do something like this to you. You needed to see Namjoon. You needed to tell him everything and get answers from those bastards.

Suddenly, nearby giggling caught your attention for a brief moment. The sound came from outside your window. You lifted it up and peeked your head out only to find your block littered with costumed partygoers and children trick or treating.

You’d forgotten it was even a holiday today. Your favorite holiday, in fact, only because Hoseok would always throw great Halloween parties in which you’d all coordinate silly costumes.

You went into your closet and shoved hangers aside until you pulled out your old Snow White costume that would match the boys’ dwarves costumes. You tossed it aside, searching for your old go-to costume. After some rummaging in the very back, you pulled out the wrinkled black dress that you always used to wear every year. It was a nun costume, and it seemed oddly fitting for what you suddenly had planned for tonight.

You busied yourself with finding the mask that went along with it as well as a small blade you always kept handy, in case of emergencies.

The party was already out of hand by the time you arrived. More people than you’d ever seen at any of the boys’ parties were littered all throughout, crowding the hallways and even spilling out into the backyard. It was truly a sight to see, an army of goblins and ghouls and slutty princesses all congregated in a mundane family home.

You made your way through the crowds of people, shimmying and tip toeing along as you tried to spot anyone you recognized, which was already hard enough since everyone was in a costume.

But it didn’t take you long to spot the boys sitting around in the living room. Some had girls on their laps or beside them while others stood near them to listen to Yoongi’s story. They were all nursing almost-empty solo cups and their eyes were hazy with drunkenness. You shoved people aside and sat on the floor next to the man of the hour. He stopped to look at you for a second, no doubt measuring your suitability to be his next conquest for the night, before continuing his story.

You recognized his tall tale at once, because it was your story.

“So, I take my headphones out, to see if it was some creepy track playing on my phone, and the singing continues!” Nearly everyone in the room stared wide-eyed while Yoongi paused to sip on his drink. “It’s right in my ear, up close, and the woman starts crying, and I mean sobbing!”

“No fucken way! Oh my god that’s terrifying!” The young girl standing closest to Yoongi rubs the goosebumps on her arms. She’s dressed as a slutty crayon, as if you hadn’t already had enough reasons to roll your eyes into the back of your head.

You’re thankful that you’re wearing a mask, however, to hide the stabbing looks you’re sending at Yoongi and the rest of the boys who are pretending to be hearing this story for the very first time. You hated them, you hated them so much.

After everything you had went through with these guys, you had ended up being reduced to an ice breaker in the end.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your leg. It’s a soft yet determined touch, and your body instantly tenses up. You’re convinced it’s Jin, because you’d experienced this kind of thing with him so many times before, but you know it isn’t him. Still, you can’t help the way your head whips around to see who could possibly be hitting on the girl in the nun costume.

Your eyes meet a pair of disoriented doe eyes, and you realize a very drunk Jungkook is hitting on you. He shoots you a lazy crooked smile as his hand rides up on your thigh a bit. You withhold the urge to punch him as you let him feel you up a bit. You didn’t want to reveal yourself just yet. No, you wanted to exact your revenge in a way that would scar the same way you now were thanks to them.

You placed your hand over Jungkook’s and stood up, taking him with you. Without saying a word, you led him into one of the empty bedrooms in Hoseok’s house, all the while his friends whooped and hollered at the sight of their youngest friend finally getting laid at a party.

You shoved him into a room and walked in, closing the door behind you. He stumbled backwards and plopped down onto the bed, leaning back and spreading his legs while he watched you. You want so badly to wipe the cocky grin he’s wearing right off his face.

You stalk over to him, quickly climbing up on his lap. His smile grows impossibly wider, and he’s giddied at the feeling of your hands on his chest pushing him down onto the bed. He seems different, cockier and more experienced, yet he’s still slightly nervous, you note, so you can tell the Jungkook you’ve always known is still inside this douchebag of a person somewhere. His heartbeat quickened as your hands slid lower on his body, and he searched for something to say to relieve some of the tension.

“So, you’re supposed to be, what, a nun?” The boy gulped as your hands found the bottom of your dress.

“No, actually, I’m a ghost.” Jungkook looked up at you questioningly, taking in your costume again to see if there was a detail he’d missed. You decided to help him out by taking your mask off.

His body stiffened under you and he grew pale as you sat on top of him, smiling at the way his lip quivered in fear.

You reached under your dress and pulled the blade from the spandex of your underwear, turning the sharp object over in your hand and observing it in the light of the room. Jungkook cussed under his breath as he began to hyperventilate slightly. You revel in his powerlessness, wanting him to feel the way you felt because of him, so you slowly press the blade against his throat, causing him to turn his gaze up at the ceiling while muttering shit shit shit as he did so.

“Where’s Namjoon?”

“I I I I I d-don’t know he—he never showed up. H-he might be a Y-yong’s house I I I don’t know.” Jungkook shut his eyes, making sure to keep still so that you didn’t accidentally nick his throat.

You grimace, not liking what he said one bit. The way her name slipped so casually from his mouth, they all knew about her and never said anything to you. You must’ve looked like such an idiot. They probably pitied you, probably made fun of you behind your back.

Your hand at the boy’s throat began shaking, and you didn’t miss the way his fists ball up at his sides. Suddenly you turned your attention to him completely, knowing now what you had to do.

The boy was shaking underneath you, so you hummed soothingly, running your hand over his chest. You admired his body, taking note of the way his muscles protruded from the fabric. He had definitely filled out and bulked up when you weren’t paying attention to him. And he’d had such a crush on you, it was a shame he’d turned into a monster on the inside.

Your hand slid down his arm and picked up his wrist, slicing at his veins vertically for a few inches. He cried out in pain as blood began spurting everywhere. He moaned in agony, clutching at his wet arm and trying desperately to keep the wound covered with his hand.

“Kookie! Where the fuck is the beer we told you to go get an hour ago?” Hoseok’s voice chirped behind you, so you turned your head in time to see the boy bursting into the bedroom unannounced. He’d taken one quick look at you and averted his eyes. “Shit, sorry, didn’t think you were actually in here with someone.” He chuckled, stealing a look in your direction, and then another, until his eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. His eyes first caught the blood stains on the bed then flew up to meet your eyes. His breath caught in his throat when he finally saw who had stolen the attention of his friend.

“Y/N…w-what are you doing?” He stepped fully into the room, coming towards you slowly.

“Well, I was in the neighborhood so, I thought I’d stop by.” You regarded him warily, gripping the blade tighter the closer he got.

As soon as the boy took a few more steps, he finally caught view of the massive wound, and his expression crumpled painfully. “Jesus Christ Y/N. What did you do?! W-Why did you do this?”

The boy tried to swipe the weapon from your hand, but you moved it out of his reach then climbed off of Jungkook and held the blade up in front of you. “Don’t you dare fucking touch me.”

“Okay, okay. Please, let’s just, talk.” His eyes were full of fear and concern, trained on you though they wandered towards Jungkook and the blade you were holding.

“Why should I talk to you? I have no reason to trust any of you. You all lied to me for so long. I SAID BACK UP!” You swung the knife as soon as Hoseok took a step towards you, causing him to stop and hold his palms up toward you warily.

“Listen, you have a right to be upset, but if there were things we never told you, it was only to protect you!”

You scoffed, “To protect me? So chasing me around the forest to the point of miscarriage was for protection? This is all your fault.” You drew in a shaky breath as the boy stared at your belly concealed by the dress.

“Y/N you’re…” Hoseok sighed, becoming antsier the longer the conversation dragged on. Nonetheless, he took a deep breath and spoke in a calm manner, “when did you stop taking your medication?”

“No…”

“Y/N, we can help you, just…” Hoseok lunged for the knife again but you quickly swung and caught his palm, slicing a line across the center. He yelped in pain, keeling forward and holding his injured hand to his chest.

You bolted out of the room and away from the house in a hurry to see Namjoon. No, no no no!

You just needed to see him, and then everything would be fine again.

You made your way to Yong’s house in a daze. You passed by countless witches and caped vigilantes who were all impressed with your commitment to scare as they took in your bloodied appearance and soiled blade in your hand. Someone even took a picture of you, but you didn’t have it in you to engage with them. You just needed to get to Namjoon and see for yourself if he had moved on from what you two had.

It didn’t take you long to reach his neighbor’s house, since Namjoon lived only a couple blocks from Hoseok.

You observed the house from the outside. It was dark, most likely to discourage trick or treaters, but not you. You circled the house, jiggling doors and pulling at windows until you finally found a way in through the kitchen. Sliding into the dimly lit household, you stood still and became part of the quiet that surrounded you, holding even your breath to see if everyone was truly asleep. You didn’t hear a peep, so you began stalking around the first floor, checking ever door.

You had stumbled upon the bathroom and two closets before you let yourself into a child’s bedroom. The walls were lavender and the shaggy rug that lined the small room was a pale pink in the night. A night light shone all kinds of aquatic figures across the walls as the child slept soundly at the center of her princess bed. You walked slowly over to her and leaned across the small bed to get a look at her tiny face burrowed into her pillow. She was adorable, and the fact that she was Namjoon’s was more than enough reason to love her, but she wasn’t yours, and you hated that. You just couldn’t get past it, no matter how cute she was. You frowned and sighed, exiting the room quietly then stopping in the middle of the living room.

You turned to look at the staircase that led upstairs when it occurred to you that they might be upstairs, sharing a bed as two parents might. Your nostrils flared and your breath quickened as you made haste to climb up one stair at a time as quietly as possible.

At the third stair, you finally heard it, a small moan, followed by another and another. Each step you climbed made the sounds more pronounced until it was undeniably the sound of Yong getting pleasured in her bedroom. You pictured Namjoon’s sweaty back, her pale hands clawing at it, her legs wrapped around his waist. Suddenly you heard a small giggle, and you pictured him peppering small kisses on her face that made her ticklish.

You clutched the blade tightly, your entire figure trembling as you reached the second floor. How dare he move on when we’re supposed to be starting a life together!?

You stormed into the bedroom, knocking the door into the adjacent wall with a bang.

“HEY DADDY!” You rubbed your belly as you stared at the lumps under the sheets.

The blonde peaked her head out and screamed as her lover pulled out and fell back onto the bed, regarding you with terrified eyes. He muttered a curse under his breath as he regarded your ghastly appearance while absentmindedly making sure the sheets were covering his genitals.

He wasn’t Namjoon.

“Who the fuck are you and why are you in my house!?” Yong’s husband yelled, looking at his wife and furrowing his eyebrows when he noticed the look of recognition in her eyes.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his outburst and focusing on her. Her hands shook as they covered her breasts, her gaze wavering.

“Where is he?”

“H-he’s p-probably at the park right now. P-Please just leave. Please.” There was a different kind of fear in her eyes, and as you looked in between her and her husband, you decided to let him be the one to deliver her punishment for getting involved with Namjoon.

You exited their house as quickly as you came, walking in the direction of the park. You were tired, your anger from earlier morphing into desperation to find Namjoon and tell him how you felt.

Part of you wanted to give up and give into your defeated emotions, but you convinced yourself to focus on one step at a time, and on what you would say to him once you finally laid eyes on him.

You only thought of a few things to say before you saw him, sitting alone by the swing set. He was staring down at his feet in deep thought, so much so that he had barely registered you walking towards him. He was sad, too sad to give you a proper greeting, yet somehow his lack of reaction to seeing you hadn’t surprised you.

You decided to sit in the empty swing that hung parallel to his, kicking your feet into the gravel as you swung yourself gently with the little strength you had left.

“I keep asking myself, why didn’t she pick me, but I keep coming up short.” He sighed and buried his head in his hands dejectedly.

When you speak, the sound is so gentle it surprises even you.

“Why does it have to be her? Namjoon, I’d pick you a thousand times over.” You threw your head back and laughed lightly, looking up at the stars above, “In every life, I’d pick you. If I lived as many lives as there are specs in the night sky, it wouldn’t matter. You would always be the one.”

He shot you a melancholic smile, turning to you to take in your appearance for the first time. His gaze wandered from your far off gaze to your hands, noticing the bloodied blade and the massive wound on your wrist that had painted your arm red by now. He frowned, looking into your fading eyes. “Y/N…did you do this for me?” His voice was dripping in pain as you slumped against the chain.

“Namjoon,” You took a moment to draw in a breath but found it harder to find the strength to get your last few words out, “I’d choose you every time, no matter what. So, choose me, just please choose me this one time.”

“I did. I did choose you.” He leaned over to pick you up from the swing and cradled you against his chest as he sat down on the dirt, brushing your hair out of your face with deep sadness painting his features.

You laid against him, giving into the tiredness as you took in your fading surroundings. You looked down at your bloodied arm, seeing the wound for the first time. You brought your hand to your stomach, unable to feel the belly you had been caressing for months. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, until you looked up into the eyes that were crying over you. Jin’s beautiful face was crumpled, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

You brought your hand up weakly to caress his wet cheek. He took your hand in his and squeezed it as you gave him a tired smile. With the peace that overtook you came the answers you had been searching for all along.

You’d had it wrong all along. It was you that hadn’t chosen the right one.

Seokjin held your lifeless body close to him as he wept. He had never felt like more of a child than he had now. He had failed you continuously because he was afraid. You made him want to be brave, but when it mattered the most, he still chose to let you save him instead. As he wiped the tears from his face, he was determined to hang onto the life preserver you had unknowingly offered him.

Jin only allowed himself a few moments to grieve you before he forced himself to put you down and walk away. He knew it was only a matter of time before Namjoon would show up.

Without a backwards glance, the disoriented boy made his way to Hoseok’s house in search of the people that would deem this all worth something.

He was covered in your blood, but everyone he had passed mistook his appearance to be a lazy last-minute costume.

As he crossed the street, his mind wandered back to that fateful night in the dead of summer. He recalled what his friends did to him when he confessed to having let you escape. He could still feel the relentless blows to his body as they took turns beating him nearly half to death. Some punches and kicks were softer than others, but they didn’t stop until he was within an inch of his life. They left him for dead by the lake before going to search for you. He knew they avoided killing him on purpose, which is why he called Jungkook as soon as his memory returned. It was something they did whenever they suspected a member of betraying them, as a form of re-initiation. If you somehow survived, then you deserved a second chance.

Jin wasn’t sure he wanted the second chance, but he felt as if he didn’t have a choice if he wanted to return to life as he knew it back home.

Jungkook had gone the easiest on him, so he felt safe calling him first. He had expected the relief that flooded the younger one’s tone when he heard Jin’s voice on the other end. But what he didn’t expect, were the conditions attached to his return. After Jungkook confided in Namjoon, they decided not to make things easy for him, since he’d deliberately backstabbed them all.

He was only allowed to return home if he finished what they had started that fateful night.

Jin let himself into Hoseok’s house, dragging his feet as he made his way to the living room. The party had thinned out, but the guys remained on the couches as they nursed their drinks and waited for his arrival.

He had expected them to be in their dwarves costumes as they always were every year, but he hadn’t expected someone else to be in your Snow White costume, at least not so soon.

The bubbly princess sat on Jungkook’s lap, staring at him in adoration while he checked his phone in pure boredom.

As Jin came into view, the maknae of the group looked up and smiled serenly, something shifting in his gaze. Jin simply stared back, resisting the shiver that threatened to rack his frame at his resemblance to Namjoon in that moment.

“Did you take care of it?” The boy put his phone away as the rest of his friends turned their attention to Jin, some looking impressed while others looked skeptical.

The tall brunette smiled back at Jungkook in pure irony. He realized the evil he had vowed to dismantle from the inside could never truly be abolished, it would simply take on a new form to survive.

He was a fool for thinking he’d ever be able to win. So, he vowed instead to honor your life by preserving his own.

“Yeah, it’s done.”

[brookefm-a]

( twenty one , cis woman , she/her )  ✉ ― hey babes, have you met BROOKE MORENO. they’re vacationing here, a few villas down from where you’re staying. you might hear COCAINE MODEL BY ZHU playing from their villa, it’s their favourite song. yes, they hear that they look like ISABELLE MATHERS alot, actually - it’s really uncanny. their friends back home in MANHATTAN, NY say that if they were on a tv show, their trope would be THE STEPFORD SNARKER , how funny is that? ✎ ley , nineteen , she/her , est.

hi besties !! it’s ley here with this extremely chaotic  &  unhinged intro ! it’s truly an absolute disaster even after i spent an hour trying to make it better :)) anyways , i’ve decided to drop venice ( rip to real one ) bc i’ve just really lost muse  &  i’ve been so busy recently that i can’t handle two muses !! this is obviously a repost ( with a few very minor updates ) so feel free to completely ignore this .... but if you don’t , proceed with caution bc this is a mess. 

𝐈  . 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬  :

FULL  NAME   :  brooklyn paige guiliana moreno  . NICKNAMES   :  just brooke .... her childhood nickname was peanut but call her that and you will receive a christian louboutin heel to the crotch . AGE  :   twenty - one   .     DATE  OF  BIRTH   :  august 4th  .     ASTROLOGY  SIGN   :  leo   .     GENDER   :  cis  woman   .     SEXUAL  ORIENTATION   :  bisexual  .   PRONOUNS   :  she  /  her  /  hers   .   OCCUPATION  :  socialite , model , influencer . HOMETOWN  :  manhattan , new york  . EYE  COLOR   :  green   .     HAIR   :  brunette , naturally wavy but she straightens or curls it every day. MOTHER  :  nadia moreno . FATHER  :  lorenzo moreno . SIBLINGS  :  caleb moreno . POSITIVE  TRAITS   :  gregarious  ,  freewheeling  ,  intuitive  ,  altruistic  ,  vehement .   NEGATIVE TRAITS  :  irascible , temerarious , capricious , covetous , flighty . AESTHETICS   :   hearts drawn on fogged glass , a golden ring on every finger , sunlight beaming through the curtains in the early morning , ruination spilling from cherry stained lips , lipstick stains on old vanity mirrors , sundays spent entangled within egyptian cotton sheets , overflowing glasses of bubbly , heels clicking against a marble floor , a honey toned voice spewing harsh words , cheeks stained a shade of natural peach , tanned skin against white sheets . CHARACTER INSP  :  idk what it is w me and always picking my childhood icons as inspo.... anyways , brooke is mainly based off of alex russo  &  paris hilton with maybe a dash of brooke davis  &  blair waldorf .

click here to take a lil trip to her pinterest !!

𝐈𝐈 .  𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝  :

tw : revenge porn ( leaking of nudes ) , stalking , ptsd  &  anxiety.

       on august fourth , 1999 , brooklyn paige guiliana moreno was born to nadia  &  lorenzo moreno . she was their second born child , the baby of the family with an older brother by two years. born in milano , italy , but they moved to manhattan before she turned one , so she has no memory of it. as a child , brooke did everything her parents asked of her. she was people pleaser , and she thrived off the attention and validation. one day after seeing toddlers & tiaras on tv , brooke begged her parents to let her do pageants. and she very quickly moved up from just beauty pageants , into the real world of fashion and modeling. she loved the glitz and glam of it , and the way people would praise her for it. by the time she was 18 and finally able to focus full time on modeling , she was one of the top high fashion models in the world.

         brooke met her first boyfriend her junior year of high school , and she fell head over heels for him. in hindsight , she knows it was more puppy love than real true love , but back then she had been so blinded by her feelings for him that she thought it would truly be something that could last. they were together for all of high school , until one party right after they graduated. they were playing spin the bottle ( bc ofc they were ) and brooke ended up having to kiss his best friend. she thought it had all been fun and games , but apparently , he was infuriated by what happened , and they got in a fight and broke up the next day. after their break up , he leaked her nudes to the media for a pretty large check to ‘ get back at her ’. thankfully , he was too much of an idiot to do it anonymously , and it was quickly found out that he was the leak. he was stripped of his college scholarships for football and expelled from princeton before his freshman year of college had even begun.

         unfortunately , brooke’s troubles didn’t end there. that same summer , her two closest friends turned on her as well. they sold lies about her to the media , twisting the story to put the blame on brooke , claiming that she had cheated on her boyfriend by sleeping with his best friend. they were also always giving tips to the paparazzi about her location. and there was one paparazzi that at first , always seemed to linger in the background whenever she was out in public. she would spot him out of the corner of her eye , but she’d hadn’t really though much about it until he started following her to first apartment ( she had been so excited to finally have a place all to herself , and was crushed when it was tainted ). the first time he did it , he just sat outside on the street , watching her enter the building but not going any further than that. things escalated very , very quickly from there. it seemed that every time she would leave the building , he would be there , snapping photos , taking videos  &  hounding her with incredibly personal questions. one night , she had arrived home from a photo shoot , wanting nothing more than to just do her skincare and pass out in bed. there had been nothing off as she had entered her apartment , nothing that could have set off an alarm in her head. but as soon as she entered her room , she found the man that had been harassing her for weeks , looking through her things just hoping to find a story he could sell to the media. she was able to get a restraining order on him after that , but since he hadn’t physically harmed her , no criminal charges stuck.

          she’d felt violated and betrayed , and so , so scared that she was no longer able to live alone. she gets really uncomfortable in large crowds or when she’s alone late at night , because she’s terrified that one day he’ll show back up. for a few months , brooke refused to go therapy because she was insistent that the events had no effect on her , even though it was obvious that she had. she wasn’t sleeping at night ( and still struggles with insomnia to this day ), she was barely leaving the house unless it was for work , and she had pushed away all of her friends. she finally agreed to go after after she had passed out from exhaustion in the middle of a photo shoot, and she’s improved a lot since then , but she does still have some lasting ptsd and anxiety. she also has a really hard time truly trusting people now , because she’s always scared she’ll let someone in just for them to sell out all her secrets.

𝐈𝐈𝐈 .  𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲  :

she can kinda be a tough nut to crack , but underneath the hardcore closed of exterior , she has a very bubbly personality , is very free spirited , she has no filter , and she’s extremely animated . she also cannot stay still for more than 5 minutes. literally the energizer bunny personified

okay .... she is lowkey a huge attention whore. there’s really has no excuse why she is either she just ... sucks lmao. but she really just thrives off of having all eyes on her , and has a naturally alluring energy. also has a major tendency to stir drama , even if it’s unintentional. she’s the type to be like “ i’m not a fan of drama i’ll just stay out of it ” but then is always the FIRST to ask for all the tea whenever shit goes down

she’s also very much a serial dater. in her pea brain attention = love so she’ll flock to wherever she gets that. she likes the validation of relationships but hates the commitment , so pretty much all of her relationships end before they ever really start. it’s something the media has caught onto , and she’s criticized quite a lot for it.

she does a pretty good job at hiding her ptsd , but please just .... don’t sneak up on her or surprise her bc she will freak out ( nd then either get irrationally angry or completely shut down bc she doesn’t know how else to handle these emotions lol )

she is a hardcore adrenaline junkie , she does so much shit just for the thrill. for her eighteenth birthday , she went cliff diving in mexico , then for her twenty first , unlike most ppl who just go to a club  &  get drunk , she went sky diving. she just holds a lot of emotion in , so anything that will release all of that or make her feel anything other than the things she’s avoiding are very much welcomed.

brooke once sent nasa a 6 page persuasive essay trying to convince them to send her to space. included in said essay were multiple images of herself because “ i’m a star and i should be documented as such ” unfortunately for her , they never responded :(

she would not be caught dead looking unpresentable .... she’ll do a full face of make up even if she’s waking up at 4am. and don’t even bother to ask her to go out after she’s done her skin care routine .... there’s no chance

god complex but sometimes it takes the day off  &  she’ll be insecure as fuck. honestly the conceitedness is pretty much just a defense mechanism to hide how much she actually hates herself lmao very “ i feel like i’m the worst so i act like i’m the best ”

[cowtale-utau]

Oof. Been working on Haze’s entry for the the soulmate prompt @searchingwolf sent me. 1406 words. It just kept going. But its finally done. The prompt said “stumbled upon” which I initially took as to mean “first meeting” but realized it didn’t necessarily have to be, so I’ll be playing with that a bit. 

Here you have it, Haze

He heard the fight before he saw it. It was dusk, fading quickly into dark and Haze was taking the rare moment to himself to go for a walk. He had no intention of involving himself in what he assumed was yet another drunken brawl until as he passed closer he felt you. Your soul reaching out. Resonating in the perfect complimentary counter to his own. He knew that resonance well. Ever since that dinner party the Montgomery family had hosted.

You'd been curled up on a settee in an out of the way sitting room, chatting softly with Cirrus. His normally reclusive little brother had been unusually animated in his responses. So despite the resonance, despite the ache already setting in, he walked away, without a word. He would never interfere in Cirrus' happiness, no matter how much pain it may cause himself. He'd seen you again in passing once or twice since then. Out in the gardens with his brother. Had never exchanged more than distant cordial greetings. Maintaining his distance was the best option, truly. No matter how deep the pain in his soul grew. He would survive this, just as he had everything up to now. (He was lying to himself, and he knew it, but damn if he come between you and his brother)

~

You'd been in a bit of a rush. Your friend had kept you later than you were supposed to be out. The lecture you were sure to get would only get worse for every minute you delayed. So in your rush, you'd thought to cut through one of the small side streets. This was a nice, quiet part of town, and there hadn't been any trouble in so long. Surely it would be fine. You should have known better.

The grip on your arm was bruising and unshakable. How was no one hearing you shout? They were speaking to you, taunting you, but their words didn't register through the fog of disbelief. Your heart dropped as you felt you foot slip, all advantage the little leverage you had lost.

“Pardon Me Miss, Are These Gentlemen Bothering You?” the smooth voice spoke up, startling you. You hadn't noticed anyone else approaching. One hand supported your lower back keeping you upright. The other had taken a tight grip on the wrist of the man holding your arm captive. Absently you noted the way his voice had shifted slightly on the word 'gentlemen'. You thought maybe you recognized it. His voice, the way he spoke, seemed familiar but you couldn't quite grab it. Everything felt so distant.

The man holding your arm went to speak but found himself quickly cut off, “I Do Believe I Asked The Lady.” His grip on the man's wrist tightened. You're attacker flinched and tugged his arm away, releasing you, and the new arrival let him. Wait. You're sure you know that voice. You shake your head slightly, trying to clear the fog.

He stepped around in front of you, blocking the other men's path, “I Suggest You Make You Way Home Now. It Would Be Unfortunate Should Someone Have To Inform Your Wife Of Your Unfavorable Behavior, Mister Miller.” The side street seemed to take on a reddish tint, lit by something you couldn't see. Your view of the man was partially blocked but you still managed to catch his stiff nod before he shuffled off, dragging his friends along with him. The grumbled and cursed as they left, and you couldn't help but feel a little bitter that this was how it ended. Surely they deserved worse? You shook your head, finally clearing enough to think properly. No, you were better than that. You wouldn't let yourself sink to their level.  

Your rescuer turned to face you, stepping a polite distance away, but staying within reach. Haze. That's right, Cirrus' brother. You'd never had a conversation with him before. You'd wanted to, something in you drawn to the refined skeleton. But somehow he was always busy. The one time you'd gotten the nerve to ask Cirrus about it, he'd only sighed and said his brother was an idiot.

His eyelights scanned over you, and his voice softened “Now Then, Are You Quite Alright My Dear?”

My dear? That was new. You blinked at him for a moment before releasing a deep breath. “Y-yeah. I. I think so. My arm will probably be bruised by tomorrow, but I think I'm alright.”

Humming he tilted his head, “Well, If You're Certain. I Must Insist On Escorting You Home. You Will Let Me Know If Anything Else Starts Hurting You.” Looking back up at the end of the street, he stepped closer, holding an arm aloft.

You slid your hand into the crook of his elbow. It felt comfortable. Right in some deeper way. “Thank you. For showing up like you did. I'd hate to think...” you trailed off, not wanting to think of the worst.

“I Only Wish I Could Have Been There Sooner. But You Can Trust That Nothing Like This Will Be Happening Again,” he seemed truly apologetic. You found that a bit ridiculous. Its not like he could have known.

“How can you be so sure? Men like that they. Well they don't change because of one interruption.”

He glanced down at you, smirk playing across his skull, “Accidents Happen, My Dear.”

Oh. Oh. You'd forgotten exactly who you were walking with. Cirrus had mentioned it once. How despite his gentile appearance, Haze was dangerous, and not to be underestimated.

“My Brother Shall Be Quite Distressed To Hear Of What Happened. I'm Sure He'll Want To Verify Your Well Being Himself.”

You hummed, “Yes, you're probably right. He's truly been a wonderful friend. I'll try to come by tomorrow. I'm sure he won't believe I'm fine if he can't see for himself.”

You almost missed the hesitation in his step, “Friend? I Know My Brother Can Be A Little... Slow To Open Up, But Surely He's Said Something By Now.”

“Said something...” You trailed off, furrowing your brow, “What do... Oh! Oh you don't mean? No no, its nothing like that. Cirrus is not interested in pursing me.”

Another hesitation. “Truly? I Had Thought. Never Mind. It Matters Not What I Thought.” You caught the barest trace of wistfulness in his voice. Maybe that's what Cirrus meant by stupid. Had he wanted to speak to you and didn't, on the belief his brother sought to be your suitor?

“Will I see you? Tomorrow?”

He took a moment before answering, a little more reserved “Perhaps. I Am Quite Busy.”

You allowed the disappointment to leak into your voice, “Oh. That's unfortunate. I had hoped to get the chance to speak to you more. I find myself enjoying your company.”

“Is That So?”

“Yes. I find myself comfortable with you. It feels, oh I don't know. Right somehow. I'm sure that sounds silly.” What were you even saying. You barely knew him! It was true though, and you hoped he didn't find your forwardness off putting.  

He seemed to take a moment to think before answering, “I'm Sure If You Were To Visit I Could Clear A Bit Of Time To Greet You. I Wouldn't Want You To Think Me A Poor Host.”

You smiled softly, “No, we couldn't have that.”

The rest of the walk to your home was quiet, but not awkward. Your family was quite upset at your late arrival and disheveled appearance, but Haze was able to settle everyone with careful reassurances. You spent the night full of nervous energy, anticipating your visit the next day.

And when you showed, Cirrus greeted you with anxious eyelights, hands trembling as they hovered just shy of touching. You assured him you were fine, nothing more than a couple bruises. Once he was sure you weren't lying he made his excuses and disappeared off somewhere. Likely needing a moment to calm himself.

And there was Haze. Waiting patiently. And when you'd comforted his brother, he made his approach. Greeted you politely. Escorted you to a sitting room, apologizing that he could only spare a few minutes. Several hours later you were still talking, and something in your chest settled. Soothed. You were looking forward to many more afternoons like this. And based on the soft smile that hadn't left his face, Haze was too.

[kurowrites]

Snow - Chapter 4

Entire fic. AO3.

I’ve officially given up.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Please note the “Mature” rating of this fic!

---

Wei Ying wakes up slowly. He’s warm and comfy, and he vaguely remembers that today is Saturday, so there’s no need to hurry and get out of bed. He has time.

As he lies there, he slowly becomes aware of the presence of another person right next to him. It’s the reason he’s feeling so nice and toasty.

Oh. He remembers now. Lan Zhan stayed last night.

He opens his eyes, and there he is. Lan Zhan, still in Wei Ying’s band shirt, his arm still wrapped around Wei Ying’s waist. It’s a glorious way to wake up – a glorious sight to wake up to. Wei Ying finds himself smiling without intending to.

“Hey,” he says, his voice still a little scratchy with sleep.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan replies, and Wei Ying’s heart flutters. He thinks he likes the way Lan Zhan says his name.

He doesn’t feel feverish or sick anymore, and since he seems perfectly healthy again, he feels a little playful. Lan Zhan is right here, after all, in Wei Ying’s bed, and he looks soft and open and very touchable. He would dare anyone not to touch Lan Zhan looking like this, and watch how long they’re able to resist. But then, he doesn’t want anyone else to touch Lan Zhan, so there’s that.

Wei Ying turns the rational part of his brain off and goes on a little discovery tour. It starts innocent enough, with Wei Ying’s hands tracing Lan Zhan’s beautiful features and chest. His skin is soft, unlike some of the rough men of Wei Ying’s acquaintance who think their masculinity will die a violent death if they come into contact with moisturizing cream.

Lan Zhan doesn’t object his exploration. Only once does he stop Wei Ying when he tries to tickle Lan Zhan. He doesn’t even have the decency to squirm. He simply takes hold of Wei Ying’s hand, sends him a look, and says “Wei Ying” in that strict voice of his.

“Sorry, sorry,” Wei Ying apologises with a small laugh, and returns to his former exploration.

He takes his time, but he does have a goal in mind, so bit by bit, he lets his hands wander lower until they scrape over the waistband of Lan Zhan’s underwear. He lets them move lower still, trails them over the fabric until they find the outline of Lan Zhan’s private parts. He traces the shape of them through the fabric of the underwear, and though Lan Zhan makes no sound, it’s quite clear that the lower part of his body is interested in the proceedings.

Well, Wei Ying is interested, too. He’s interested in Lan Zhan’s everything. As he gently takes hold of Lan Zhan’s penis and rubs it softly, still through the fabric of the underwear, he squirms a little because he’s getting excited himself. There’s something illicit about handling Lan Zhan like that, and he’s unironically loving it. He wants to touch Lan Zhan, and he wants to be touched in return. He usually doesn’t go around wanting to stick his hands into other men’s pants, but Lan Zhan has burned through any reason and restraint he might have had at some point pretty quickly and very thoroughly.  

When he tries to slip his hand into Lan Zhan’s waistband, Lan Zhan’s own hand wraps around his and keeps him in place.

“Wei Ying,” he says again, and it’s clear that it’s a warning.

“Come on, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whines, leaning in to give Lan Zhan little licking kisses. “Are you really going to waste your chance to fuck me into my mattress on this beautiful morning?”

Lan Zhan’s hold loosens a little, and Wei Ying doesn’t waste any time to slip his hand into Lan Zhan’s boxer briefs to stroke the base of his penis. Lan Zhan is definitely erect now, Wei Ying notes with satisfaction.

“I’m willing, I want it, what more do you need? A personal, written invitation? You are cordially invited to defile Wei Ying in whatever manner you deem appropriate, please hasten to my side and debauch me thoroughly.”

He laughs and kisses whatever parts of Lan Zhan’s face he can reach.

He almost fears Lan Zhan will push him away any second now, that he’s gone too far this time, but instead, Lan Zhan rises, turns Wei Ying around until he’s lying on his back, and settles over Wei Ying. His long hair falls over his shoulders, and he looks beautiful like that too. A little predatory, just enough that it goes straight to Wei Ying’s cock. With a quick motion, Lan Zhan slips out of Wei Ying’s band shirt and throws it away. Wei Ying’s hands automatically come up to touch the exposed skin. My, Lan Zhan truly is glorious.

Lan Zhan’s own hands find the buttons on Wei Ying’s pyjamas, and he carefully opens them one by one until Wei Ying’s chest is exposed, too. He lets his hands slide over Wei Ying’s torso, further down, and hooks his fingers into the band of his pyjama bottoms and underwear. He pauses there for one moment and sends Wei Ying a look. Wei Ying obediently raises his hips because he has absolutely no objection to getting stripped naked by Lan Zhan, and with one swoop movement, Lan Zhan divests Wei Ying of the rest of his clothing.

Just having Lan Zhan’s eyes on his now exposed body excites Wei Ying; he’s pretty sure his cock is already leaking just from that.

“Off, off,” he commands, and tries to snag Lan Zhan’s boxers.

Luckily, Lan Zhan understands exactly what he wants, and his underwear is gone the next moment. Lan Zhan in his entire, impossible, naked glory hovers above him, and Wei Ying is really, really glad he took that gamble and let Lan Zhan into his apartment. He definitely wants to get fucked into the mattress by this man.

Lan Zhan’s thoughts seem to line up with his perfectly, because the next moment, he takes Wei Ying’s legs and guides them so they can wrap around Lan Zhan’s middle. He sinks down until their cocks are touching each other (Wei Ying might go a little crazy at this point), and once he finds a comfortable position, he reaches for one of Wei Ying’s hands. He rubs a little of Wei Ying’s own precum into Wei Ying’s hand and wraps it around them both, making it obvious what he wants Wei Ying to do.

That’s fine. It’s excellent. Wei Ying smears his own precum on them both, which is both a little disgusting and also hot, and strokes them both because he just can’t resist, can’t help but want to explore Lan Zhan’s reaction, to push him a little.

Oh shit, that feels amazing. The added heat and sensation of another body makes this an altogether different animal from masturbating on his own. He almost regrets not trying this out earlier, but then, there was no Lan Zhan in his life until now, so it’s a rather moot point.

Lan Zhan’s arms find their way to both sides of Wei Ying, and as he hovers over Wei Ying like that, gazing at him with burning eyes, he starts to undulate his hips. It starts very slow and gentle, just enough movement to confirm that it feels good, that Wei Ying’s hold on them is working for both.

Wei Ying moans a little bit, because yeah, that feels pretty fucking good already. Lan Zhan, apparently encouraged by the noise, starts moving a little faster, letting his weight rest on Wei Ying a little more, pressing him further and further into the mattress, pushing him down exactly the way Wei Ying wants him to, making a mess of him.

He feels so much more stimulated by everything – the feel of Lan Zhan’s body, the movement, the smell, the way Lan Zhan’s breathing is growing more ragged by the minute, the way he looks down at Wei Ying with blazing eyes – that Wei Ying is sure he can’t take it for very long.

But Lan Zhan seems to be in the same predicament. He suddenly makes a strangled noise and pushes down hard on Wei Ying, pumping frantically, and all Wei Ying can do is squeeze and writhe to give that little bit of additional stimulation that’s needed.

Within seconds, he’s coming himself.

When the fog in his mind clears, his stomach is sticky with fluid all over, and Lan Zhan is breathing heavily into Wei Ying’s shoulder, just barely keeping himself from collapsing onto Wei Ying’s body.

Fuck, that was good. He can’t even loosen the legs he has still wrapped around Lan Zhan.

“That was really good,” he says out loud, because he feels such things have to be communicated.

Lan Zhan turns his head and gives him a languorous, drawn out kiss. Wei Ying decides that it’s his way of telling him that he liked it, too.

Before long, the position they’re in gets uncomfortable, and they have to move. Lan Zhan sits up and helps Wei Ying get up, as well, though he’s feeling a little wobbly. He then finds himself shuffled into the bathroom by Lan Zhan.

Here is where Wei Ying goes a little insane: yesterday, he imagined Lan Zhan wiping him down with a terrycloth. It was fantasy, one of these things that you think about with a little longing in your heart, but that are entirely divorced from reality. Like having a celebrity crush. So when Lan Zhan actually digs out a terrycloth towel, wets it, and starts wiping away the mess on Wei Ying’s stomach, Wei Ying thinks he can’t be blames if it makes him a little weak. Fantasies such as these should not become reality so easily. Lan Zhan shouldn’t be so effortlessly good at taking care of him. He has to lean forward and kiss Lan Zhan several times, because he feels he might explode if he doesn’t. These terrible, mushy feelings have to go somewhere.

Eventually, Wei Ying manages to stop kissing Lan Zhan for long enough they both succeed in finishing their clean-up, and they return to the bedroom to get dressed. Lan Zhan has to borrow a pair of Wei Ying’s boxer briefs because his are kind of destroyed, and Wei Ying laughs at him and teases him by giving him his fancy red ones.

They eat breakfast – prepared by Lan Zhan, of course – and because Wei Ying is feeling better, he kind of wants to go out for a little bit. He convinces Lan Zhan that yes, he wants to take a walk with Wei Ying in the nearby park, and maybe swing by the department store next to it on their way back. The storm from two days ago has long abated, and the snow outside glitters magically in the sunlight. It’s the perfect time for a walk.

Lan Zhan slips into his long, white coat and Wei Ying grabs his leather jacket by necessity – he has no other option – but before he can head to the door, Lan Zhan stops him and wraps a red scarf around Wei Ying’s neck. Wei Ying touches the material with surprise. He’s not really familiar with products like this, but it has to be something expensive like merino wool. He has never touched wool as soft as this scarf. And the red is beautiful!

He opens his mouth to say thank you, but catches himself in time. Indeed, Lan Zhan doesn’t want his thanks. So instead, he pulls Lan Zhan down by the lapels of his coat and gives him a thorough kiss.

Yep, he thinks, satisfied as he lets go and licks his lips. That hit the spot.

Lan Zhan adjusts the scarf, making sure that Wei Ying is all wrapped up properly, and ushers him out the door.

[asnackdriver]

He had been busy all day. Being the Supreme Leader meant a lot was requested of him.

He’d sent you a message earlier.

“When I see you. I’m not going to be nice. You’ve been warned.”

You knew exactly what he meant.

You went through the day trying your best to focus, wondering when he would grab you, when he would make good on his promise.

You went through your day and headed to the fresher to have a shower and get ready for bed. You knew he was busy.

You had just gotten out of the shower and were idly brushing your hair when you saw a flash of skin in the mirror, felt his fist wind into your hair and were flattened to the mirror.

“I could smell your cunt in the hall.”

You can feel his cock is slick with precum and rock hard as he lifts your leg and runs it through your slit.

He pulled back far enough to spit in one hand and shoved it into you with two fingers roughly before he grabbed his cock at the base and pushed himself into you.

You yelp and groan like an animal as he seats himself balls deep and leans down to your ear.

“You filthy girl. You’ve craved my cock. Haven’t you?”

You moan and nod as he starts to thrust into you. You’re too tight like this but, the fire of the stretch is too good.

He growls into your ear. “Say it. Tell me how much you’ve wanted my cock.”

A noise that didn’t even sound human escapes you as you groan and claw at the mirror. 

“I’ve craved your cock all day. I need it. I need you to fuck me, hard.”

Kylo sighed and rolled his eyes as his cock twitched inside you.

“Good girl. Kriff. I’m going to fuck you any way I please and you’re going to thank me aren’t you?”

Your cunt is so tight but squelching now around his length with every thrust. He can feel it as your cream starts to stick to his balls. 

You can barely catch your breath as he grabs your chin to position you.

“Look at yourself. You like being fucked like an animal. You love this, don’t you?”

You moan and wail as the head of his cock slams into your front wall. 

“Open your mouth.”

He spits against the mirror, fists your hair tighter and runs your face along the glass for you to lick it clean.

You open your mouth and let him see his spit on your tongue before you swallow it. 

“You’re going to cum on my cock and you’re going to thank me.”

When your eyes lull closed, he yanks your head up and changes his angle and pace.

“Yes, Supreme Leader.”

His entire body is buzzing with the Force and it’s coursing through you and pulling you quickly to your release. 

You can feel yourself tipping to the edge until your body feels like it’s been ripped apart, floating in space, and then slammed back to where you stood.

Your chest is heaving and you’re sobbing now. 

“Thank you Supreme Leader. Thank you, thank you. Kylo.”

Hearing your words was all it took and you felt a rumble from the force at it was drawn into him and thrown out in all directions.

You felt it course through you and as you felt his cock pulse and milk thick ropes of cum into you, he yelled and the electrical systems shorted out. 

As the emergency lights buzzed on he was still fucking his cum into you and you felt your toes touch the ground again.

He shuddered as he pulled his cock from you and pushed you to your knees in front of him. 

“Clean it.”

You licked every drop of your combined cum off of his shaft, his sack, and even down his thighs. 

He pulled you up into his arms, your back to his chest and made you stand with your legs apart so he could watch his cum leak from you in the mirror for a moment.

“We’re going to have a shower and then you’re going to ride me. You’re going to fuck my cum back into yourself.”

And later you did and after...he did again. 

[irelise]

(high fantasy au ficlet)

i’m feeling a bit rusty with writing so i just whipped up something short and sweet...! part 1 of probably 2

based on this prompt

dnd campaign pitch: the king sends you to kill a dragon that’s been ravaging the lands but when you get there it turns out the dragon only has a price on it’s head because it has sensitive information about the king’s political scandals and it needs your help leaking them to the press

After the servants clear away the dishes, after Lord Shaw explains his reasons for summoning him in the first place, Charles only says: “The Grey King? A rather odd name for a dragon, that.” “But a fitting one.” Charles’ liege lord motions for a servant to refill their winecups. “Grey for the colour of its scales, grey for the ashes it leaves in his wake – or so the smallfolk report. It must be stopped.”

"You must know that I'm a poor choice for this, I've always believed that man and dragon-"

"Can live in harmony, yes." Shaw interrupts, looking bored. "I heard you the first twenty times. But you've heard what this beast has done. You still believe you can make peace?"

"Always," Charles says firmly, and Shaw laughs.

"Oh, dear Charles, that's why you're my favourite." The glint of greed in Shaw's eyes is nothing new, but as always, Charles elects to ignore it, taking a calm sip of his wine.

Shaw drinks as well. "Oh, fine then." He waves a careless hand. "I'll send someone else to deal with it."

"No, no, I'll be glad to handle the matter. I just think resorting to killing right away is not the answer."

"What, you planning to talk it into submission?"

"There must be a reason for what it's doing. I'm going to find out what it is."

"It'll kill you." Shaw's eyes bore into him. "No, not physically, that would be a kindness. It'll turn your mind against itself. It'll turn you against us, you, my best knight. It'll make you its slave, is that what you want?"

***

On his second week of hard riding, Charles catches a glimpse of the dragon.

The sun hangs low in the sky, bathing the world in the orange-red glow of fire when, without warning, a swift shadow passes over Charles. Charles snaps his head up, eyes scanning the skies - there! Sunlight reflects off the dragon's wings, outstretched in flight. They gleam like sheets of burnished metal, darkly iridescent, a thousand different subdued colours of the rainbow shimmering across the iron-like span.

The dragon doesn't seem to be hostile. It's not burning and destroying, it's not even hunting; it simply is. It soars in long, lazy patterns, and Charles' breath catches at the sight of its beautiful, deadly splendor.

He watches it for a long time, an unnameable ache in his chest, until it disappears into the horizon.

***

"A big grey dragon? I've seen it a few times in the distance, but if it's been causing trouble, it's not hereabouts."

"Only problem we've had lately is from drakes, I've not heard anything about this Grey King of yours."

"I heard it lairs a few days west of here, but I've never seen the thing myself."

It's the same story no matter where he goes: nobody has ever seen the dragon up close, and nobody has ever had their land and animals and family razed to the ground. The dragon doesn't even take livestock, preferring to do its hunting elsewhere. Charles' own eyes confirm the story: the villages he passes are industrious but peaceful, their fields ripe and golden, ready for the harvest. The people are welcoming and their children play out in the open, in meadows dotted with wildflowers, not a single hint of fear to be seen. It is not the look of a region devastated by a dragon. Just what is Shaw playing at?

Then Charles comes upon the garrison.

It's the smell of burning that first attracts his notice. Then he sees the smoke, rising in grey clouds above the treetops. Instantly alert, Charles urges his horse into a faster trot.

When he comes to the end of the road, he's greeted with a scene of devastation. The stone walls of the garrison are scorched and blackened, the heavy gate of reinforced wood an unrecognizable heap of charred ashes.

Worst of all are the bodies piled up at the gate, soldiers cut down by fang and claw and flame as they fled for their lives. Useless, against a dragon. Charles scans the skies - there are still fires burning, the attack can't have been very long ago - but there's nothing, nothing except smoke.

Charles dismounts quickly, one hand on the hilt of his sword, the other moving in quick, precise gestures as he mutters the words of a shield spell. Not many have the mixture of innate talent and ironclad discipline necessary for the study of magic; he's one of the few battlemages serving under Shaw, and the strongest.

Perhaps too strong. Charles grimaces as his magic flares, fire-sparks whiting out his vision, but he's adept by now at wrestling his magic back under his control. Once his vision returns to normal, he starts forward cautiously, only stopping when he reaches the grisly pile of bodies. The garrison is a small one; it wouldn't be manned by any more than twenty soldiers, and almost half that number are here.

All those lives, snuffed out in an instant. Charles pushes back his sorrow and drops to one knee, critically examining the injuries: gashes, mainly, but not so large and deep that they would have come from one of those ancient, massive wyrms capable of slicing a man in half with a glancing blow. The dragon he's dealing with can't be much larger than a young adult, although of course dragon morphology can vary greatly...

Charles climbs back to both feet, heading deeper into the garrison. There are more bodies strewn on the ground, many of them clutching bloodied weapons; they must have landed a few good hits on the dragon. It wasn't enough to save them. Charles' heart sinks the longer he searches, not a single living soul to be found

Then he rounds a corner and he sees a wild-eyed soldier with his sword drawn, poised to thrust it through the chest of an unconscious figure lying on the ground.

Charles doesn't stop to think. "Fus!" A blast of concussive force leaps from his outstretched hand, slamming the soldier to the ground. Charles draws his own sword as he steps forward. "What's going on here?"

"Back off!" The soldier snarls, scrabbling for his sword. Charles kicks it further away. "He's working with the dragon! I've seen him skulking around these past few days, he-"

"He is an unarmed, unconscious man!" Charles crouches down next to him. To his surprise, the man's eyes are open, but glassy and unfocused. Blood stains the wooden floor under him, and Charles can see cruel lacerations across his chest.

But his clothing is strange; nothing like what the men of the garrison wear. And that face... There's something familiar about the sharp cheekbones, the glint of copper in his hair. Charles frowns, trying to place it, but his concentration is broken by a snarl from the soldier. He had pulled himself back to his feet and is now making another lunge for his sword, but Charles intercepts him easily, snatching the sword away from his fumbling grip.

"Enough of this," he says sternly. "My name is Charles Xavier, I'm one of the knights sworn to the service of Lord Sebastian Shaw. Just what is going on here?"

"I came back from patrol to find - this. I looked-" The soldier's voice cracks. "Everyone was dead. Except him. I told you, I've seen him! He's been spying on us! And now..."

It's a story full of gaping holes and tenuous connections - certainly not enough for Charles to order the execution of a defenseless man. "I know you're grieving and angry, but killing him now will be a mistake. There's too much we don't know. He may be an innocent man, as much of a victim of this attack as you are."

"You don't know what you're talking about," the man snarls, helpless fury contorting across his face. "All you high and mighty knights, you don't know-"

"I will take him back to the city," Charles interjects firmly. "We'll question him thoroughly, I promise you. Come with us. Your testimony will be invaluable."

"Fuck you." All at once, the fury leaves the soldier. He slumps against the wall. "Do what you want. You'll wake up to a knife in your back tonight, and I'll bury your body along with the rest."

***

The injured man goes quietly with Charles, docile as a lamb, his eyes still vacant and dazed. As much as his heart aches for him, Charles takes no chance: he binds the man's arms and searches him for weapons before he brings him away from the garrison.

"I have medical supplies in my saddlebag, but we'll ride back to the closest village to get you proper treatment. I'm afraid you'll have to stay with me for awhile, until we get all of this sorted out."

Charles is sure that the man hears him, but he gives no response, and the vacant look in his eyes doesn't fade. Shock? But no, there's something buzzing at the edges of Charles' magic-sense, a whisper that something isn't quite right... He directs the man to sit on the grass, carefully arranging him to rest against the trunk of a tree as he removes his shirt to clean and dress his wounds. They don't look like wounds that have come from a dragon's fangs or claws. If anything, they look like wounds inflicted by a blade.

"You saved me."

Charles starts, gaze flicking up to meet the stranger's pale eyes. The blankness has not entirely faded, but there's an intensity not present before.

"I would not condemn a man to death without knowing all the facts," Charles says. "Although now that you're lucid, I hope you can give me some answers. How are you feeling?"

"I've had worse before. I'll recover." The man grimaces. Charles can't place his accent - it's a mix of many things, some of them infuriatingly familiar, a fading memory he can't properly grasp. "Am I your prisoner?" He shrugs his bound arms.

"Unfortunately, yes, you were found under some rather suspicious circumstances." Charles gives him a small smile, wanting to show the man that he does not mean to treat him unkindly, despite his status. "May I have your name?"

"Erik. Erik Lehnsherr."

"Charles Xavier, a sworn knight under Lord Sebastian Shaw. I promise you, I will ensure you are treated fairly and with justice."

Rather than look comforted, Erik skewers him with a sharp look. "Shaw? Sebastian Shaw?"

"You must know of him, surely, these lands are under his rule. Are you a traveler?"

"You could say that."

Charles frown, giving the man's shoulder a brief squeeze. His skin is terribly cold and clammy. "I would advise you to be forthright in your answers. You're in a great deal of trouble, my friend."

Erik barks a sharp laugh. "Fine. Ask your questions."

"What were you doing at the garrison?"

"Attacking it, what else?"

Charles' composure fractures, and he stares at Erik in open shock. "...I'm sorry?" He manages. There are still bandages in his hands, and Erik is smiling at him, teeth bared, fierce and hungry yet without a shred of malice. If anything, he seems entertained.

"You heard me."

"I did - I'm sorry, I'm just very..." He shakes his head, knowing Erik is deliberately throwing him off-balance. "You were working with the dragon? You're admitting it openly?"

"Yes. Problem?"

"Many," Charles snaps, the broken, bloody corpses flashing in his memory. "All those men, Erik! Why?"

"It was justice," Erik growls. "I've heard of you before, Charles Xavier. Shaw's right hand, his keenest blade, his most powerful mage. He sent you to slay a dragon, didn't he?"

Charles watches him with warily. "He did, but killing it was not my intention."

"Good. Because he wants to meet you."

[realm-sweet-realm]

Audrey and the Dark Revival: chapter 1- First Encounters

Audrey and the Dark Revival is intended as a sequel series for Bendy and the Ink Machine. May the actual sequel come out soon and completely blow mine out of the water.

I was going for a “first chapter of a puzzle/action game” vibe for this.

Sorry for the little hiatus, I was making the plot outline for this. It will have at least five chapters.

---

Audrey took one last look at the letter in her hands.

Audrey,

This is your mother. About a year ago, your father purchased a mysterious machine, and as of now, he’s missing. What I’m about to tell you will sound crazy, but you have to believe me. The machine has the ability to create a dimension that your father is now trapped in. He is literally at the center of his own little world, and he’s continuously making it bigger. Every night before he disappeared, he would come back later, more ink-stained, and less coherent than he had the night before. I tried to get him to stop, but he wouldn’t. As of now, he either can’t leave, isn’t sane enough to, or doesn’t want to. The dimension is growing to the point where it can’t be contained anymore. Objects in our house are beginning to look like the ones he creates. It’s as though the dimension is leaking. One of the creatures from the dimension appeared in my room yesterday. I can’t call the police- I don’t think they’d be much help, and I’m complicit in so much that he’s done. Audrey, I need you to go in there and save him. If you don’t, I fear the dimension will spill into this world more and more. He can control the dimension. He’ll help you.

-Mom.

Half of the room Audrey stood before was her father’s old study- though the carpet and some of the fine furniture had been replaced since he’d kicked her out half a lifetime ago. The other half of it defied explanation. Its colour had completely faded to nothing but white, with black lines at the edges of objects like they’d come out of a newspaper comic strip. It was all surrounding one door- a door which when opened, revealed a simple storage closet, and which had a meter-wide pentagram in front of it.

Why had she come here? Why wasn’t she at home with her husband and daughter? Loyalty to Mr. Arch (Audrey refused to call him a ‘father’)? Sheer curiosity? She supposed it didn’t matter. Whatever the reason, she’d come across state lines for this.

Audrey rifled through her father’s chestnut desk until she found a key within an open, unmarked envelope (apparently, he hadn’t switched hiding places in nineteen years), and used it on his locked filing cabinet. Amongst the files, there was an unmarked black book- each page of which contained a pentagram and some instructions on how to activate it. Kneeling before the pentagram her father must have drawn, Audrey paged through the book until she found the closest matching pentagram. It was identical, except for a foot-wide center of its star- on the page it had been blank, but on the ground, its design was as intricate as the shrunken-down blueprint of an unknowable labyrinth.

The page contained a picture of what appeared to be a tattooed hand, a knife taped to the page, and the following instructions:

The dimensional pentagram enables one to move a dimensional portal from one place to another. In order to do so, draw the following pentagram, with the layout of desired dimension at its center. In to become a person who can operate the pentagram, cut your hand in the following pattern, and offer up your blood.

The design on the hand was in the shape of a spiral, centered on the back of one’s hand, but extending to the palm to and around the thumb.

Audrey dropped the book. Nope, she was not doing this. She strode back to the door out- but it was locked.

“Mother!” Audrey yelled. “Mother, I’m locked in here! Let me out!” She stopped. Surely she’d been loud enough that her mother would have heard. But no one came. A few hours passed, with Audrey calling for help periodically. Audrey didn’t even hear footsteps or distant voices. Audrey supposed she should have counted on her bitch of a mother to pull a trick like this. It seemed that the only way out was through.

Audrey took the knife in her right hand, and cut into her left, carving that spiral design and grunting with pain as red blood fell to the ground and flowed onto her pantlegs. Her craftsmanship was rather shoddy, but who could blame her with a flesh canvas to work on? By the time she finished, she was panting. She drew her hand over the pentagram and let the blood drop. As soon as the blood hit the pentagram, her cuts began to scar over, leaving her hand looking as though it was tattooed. 

Audrey tried the door again. It was unlocked. The second Audrey stepped through the door, it slammed hard behind her. The hallway within was still in that cartoonish style, and it was also gloomily dark. There were posters on the walls for Bendy cartoons and comics.

Oh, Hello? A greasy voice called- apparently from nowhere. It was her father’s voice- albeit a more deranged version of it. What’s a pretty girl doing in such a dangerous place all by herself? Oh, don’t answer that. I know. You’re here to come get me, aren’t you? Well, it’s a long ways off from here. Why don’t I give you a little power to help you along?

Audrey’s left hand shook, then crackled with electricity. Suddenly, her scar was glowing.

Oh, but what’s power without the opportunity to use it?

The wall at the end of the hall opened up in a swirl of black goo, and a massive blob of ink made its way through it before splitting off into several man-sized black blob abominations with arms and tortured faces. And they were coming straight for her. With a cry of panic, Audrey jerked out her arms to try and protect herself. Electric sparks flew from her left hand, arcing to one of the monsters, which fell over, melted into a puddle, and disappeared. Suddenly empowered, Audrey repeated the motion to take out the rest of them.

Very good. I think I’ll leave you be to wander a while. Oh, this will be so entertaining to watch.

“Wait, Nathan, where are you?” Audrey called out, “I’m here to come get you.”

Silence.

“Nathan!”

Still nothing.

“Father?”

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. With that, Audrey continued on. The place mostly just seemed like a ghostly, abandoned animation studio, with the addition of spilled ink and pipes everywhere. She also found a few audio logs of her father’s employees, but nothing that brought her closer to finding or rescuing her father.

Eventually she came to the art department, sporting rows of desks with unfinished Bendy cartoons upon them and puddles of rubber ink upon the floor. A small, chimp-like creature was huddled under one of the desks, drinking a can of soup. Cautiously, from a safe distance, she knelt down to its level.

“Hey, there. Um, can I ask for directions?”

The creature stood up and came after her, babbling in gargled tones. She stood and shocked it, but to her terror, a similar creature- or a spider-like one, or a decapitated pirate-like creature- was coming out from under every desk. Audrey ran. It was clearly too many to take on. Eventually, she ended up at a dead end at the end of a hallway. She’d put a solid twenty feet between her and the butcher gang, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Frantically, she tried all the doors for an unlocked one while shocking as many of the abominations as she could with her left hand.

Then, one of the doors burst open, and a horned woman with a machete and an axe-wielding cartoon dog with a mechanical arm stepped sprang out of it. Audrey, now frozen from confusion, watched as they stabbed their way through the horde. Then, the wolf turned to her and lifted his axe to strike.

Audrey put her arms out. “I mean no harm!” she yelled quickly.

The horned woman came over to her. She appeared surprised to see Audrey. “Oh. Okay. Who are you? I’ve never seen you before. But I’ve seen someone like you. Are you a human? State your name and business.” Her voice and demeanor was gentle, aside from the fact that her machete was pointed directly at Audrey.

“My name is Audrey Arch.”

The swordswoman’s eyes grew wider. “Daughter of Nathan Arch?”

“Yes. And I’m here to rescue him.”

Allison’s eyes hardened. “Tom, take her arms. We need to take her to our base and decide what to do with her.”

In a moment, Tom was restraining her, and she was blindfolded and walking to who knew where.

“Don’t worry too much about this,” Allison said gently, “Tom and I have to take precautions like this, but if you really do mean no harm, you have nothing to fear. Honestly, it’s a hopeful sign that we’re seeing another human.”

[joyofcrime-elinorhigh]

2018 Year in REVIEW: Part 2

 Hello everybody, JoyofCrimeArt here, and it's time to wrap up Deviant-cemnber by finishing this recap. If you're just joining us I'm going over all the events that happened to the cartoon community thought the year of 2018. I'm also ranking all the new series from best to worse, and deciding which network was the quote unquote "winner" of the year. If you haven't seen part one, you can check it out here. 2018 Year in REVIEW: Part 1 But for everyone else, let's get on with the review. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  So at the end of the last part, we had to deal with that whole "Thundercats CalArts" debacle. Not exactly the most "positive" stopping point. So why don't we start this part with something light? Oh hey, look, people are talking about Butch Hartman! He's always good for a laugh. What's he up too?

 Oh no...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBOMlWl7fFk

 So Butch Hartman, America's dad, started a Kickstarter for his own streaming service. It's called Oaxis and is suppose to be a family friendly streaming service with original programming along the lines of Netflix. Butch asked for 250,000 dollars in order to get the basic groundwork for the site up and running. That's a lot of money to ask for, so there's no way he could actually...Holy crap, he actually did it! The madman pulled it off!  Now, there's a lot to unload here. Butch Hartman's streaming service initially was met with controversy due to how vague everything about it was. There were a lot of unanswered questions. We didn't know what kind of shows it would have outside of a few failed pilots that Butch had pitched to various networks in the years prior. Were there other creators had plans to affiliate themselves with the project? All of these unanswered questions lead a lot of people to think that this was all just a big scam. If I had to make a guess, I have a feeling that part of the point of the Kickstarter was to act as a proof of concept. A way to show investors that there was an interest in the service. While a quarter of a million dollars is a lot, that's still not anywhere NEAR enough to run an entire new entertainment platform.  However, I wanna be devil's advocate here. Butch Hartman has some experience in this field.The Noog Network, is an app that he developed that specializes in family friendly animated and live action shorts all created by Butch Hartman himself. Not exactly the same as a streaming service, but still. And consider that Butch has ties to people in the industry, and has experiences running a business in the form of his nonprofit charity The Hartman House, MAYBE he could pull it off? Maybe? Possibly...  But that's not where the controversy ends however! As footage leaked of old Butch-y boi speaking at a church event promoting Oaxis. Here he made several claims that many found to be a bit disconcerting. Such as claims that his streaming service would feature "Christian values" which is something not at all mentioned in his Kickstarter. As a Christian myself I've always thought of Christian values as things like kindness, generosity, respect. All things that aren't necessarily exclusive to Christianity. So maybe he meant like that. However, the fact that he was invited as a special guest to a church to speak about the service...It's definitely a little bit suspect. There's nothing wrong with making a streaming service aimed at Christian families, but you should at least mention it in the Kickstarter. That way people know what they're donating too. He later specified in a tweet that while the service wouldn't inherently be Christian themed, but since Butch Hartman is a devout Christian himself, that would always carry over into his work no matter what he does. It should be noted  that in the same speech he list his previous shows as containing the same "Christian values" and I don't think anybody was ever converted to Christianity by T.U.F.F Puppy. I don't know.  Man, between this and last years Castlevania, I love being forced to talk about my religious views in a article that's suppose to be about dumb cartoon shows.  He also made a controversial claim saying that suicides are more common now of days because of peoples addition to cell phones and technology. Saying that because of these technology people not talking to their parents as much as a result. I'm not a researcher on this, so I have no idea if this is actually true. I could definitely see that could at least be partially true with things like cyber bulling and the lack of communication with parents COULD possibly be a factor in the increases of suicides. But it defiantly feels like a disservice to just ignore issues like mental health being a factor. I can defiantly see how people could of taken offense.  All of this backlash lead to everyone's favorite 2018 game! "Attack people online until they apologize!" Cause as we all know, nothing makes an apology more sincere than when it's forced out of them by an angry mob! But eventually all the heat died down when all the "Butch Hartman Rant" videos stopped getting views, I mean, when there was nothing left to talk about. Overall, I think that the situation was just bad on all fronts. Butch should of said something to explain himself, and not be so vague in his goals. But also, we live in a day and age where I honestly wonder if that would of been the smartest move. It feels like once people have their opinion set, there's no going back. I mean how often to celebrity apologizes even work? Still though, smart or not, it would of been the right thing to do.  However, I would like to point out that all of this hate started simply because he reached his goal. All the stuff about the church and his suicide comments all came after he was already getting hate for being a scam artist. But the thing is, we don't even know if he is a scam artist or not. Sure, the fact that he's barely talked about Oaxis at all since the Kickstarter was funded doesn't bode well. But from what I could fine, he's given out most of the rewards he promised. And on the Kickstarter page he says the site wasn't expected to launch until mid 2020. Do I think Butch will be able to pull this off? Probably not...but I hope he does. I want Oaxis to be a thing, cause I am interested in some of the shows he's talked about putting on there, like Elf Detective. And if you hate Butch and hope for Oaxis to fail, that's your prerogative. But if you are hoping for it to fail, than you're hoping that nearly thirteen hundred people got scammed out of their money. Just saying.  Ugh! I'm sick of this drama. I want more uplifting Kickstarter news! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2rMCkNgHa3c

 Homestar Runner was one of the first big web series that existed B.Y. Before Youtube. The series has been running off and on for about nineteen years now. And the creators, The Brother Chaps, decided to make a Kickstarter campaign to make a tabletop board game based on one of there series most popular characters. Trogdor, the Burniator. A poorly drawn dragon with an affinity for burning down cottages. The Kickstarter was set up for a goal seventy thousand dollars. Which feels like a lot for a board game, but hey, what do I know. While Homestar still has a very loyal fanbase, the series defiantly is nowhere near as popular as it was in the early to mid two thousands. And seventy thousand is a pretty hefty goal? Would a board game based on an outdated internet meme from 2004 really be able to make that kind of money?  It reached it's goal in less than a day. And by the end they ended up making over one point four million dollars! I don't know what exactly The Brothers Chaps are going to do with all that money, but it's nice to know that the Homestar fanbase is still alive and well after all that time. And it's also nice to just see a Kickstarter that reached it's goal, delivered everything it promised, and didn't get into any major controversies.   -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  Anyway, back to controversy. Cyma Zarghami, president of Nickelodeon since 2006, resigned. And people hate her because of some...controversy. Something about unions I think? Yeah, I didn't bother looking into this one. Between the Thundercats Roar drama and Butch Hartman stuff, I just couldn't go through all of this again. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, so I'm perfectly happy to be the ostrich with it's head in the sand on this one! However, like I said last time, it'll be very interesting to see what happens to Nickelodeon in the next couple of years. Without Butch Hartman, Dan Schneider, and now Cyma Zarghami I feel like Nickelodeon five years from now could be something completely unrecognizable from what it is today. And hopefully it'll be in a good way. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  But hey, this year wasn't all drama though. I mean look at all the new shows we got. Like Pinky Malinky.

DELAYED!  Okay, well at least we finally have Young Justice season three...

DELAYED!  The new Harley Quinn Cartoon...

DELAYED!  FXX's Deadpool?

CANCELED!  TBS's Close Enough from Regular Show creator JG Quintel?

WHO THE FU*K EVEN KNOWS AT THIS POINT?  Seriously, what's with this year? It's like everything has been delayed! What the heck? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  Nickelodeon announced that they're making a reboot for the Rugrats. And just...why?  Money-    Yes, I know it's money! But it's a show about babies! When you make a reboot of something, the entire point is to update it. But when your show is about babies, how are you suppose to do that? Babies today are still doing the same things that babies did back in 1991. And with the first show having one hundred seventy two half hour episodes. What stories are left to tell?  Then again, anything can be good. That Muppet Babies reboot (Which I didn't watch and isn't on this list) seems to be pretty well received. So maybe it could work. I don't know. I've never seen to much Rugrats growing up, so it's hard for me to get excited for this. But I'm sure someone will enjoy it. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  So Netflix decided to drop all of their new series all at the end of the year. Their first one is Matt Groening's Disenchantment. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gp_RnJcb8Ig

 The series follows Bean, the princess of the magical kingdom of Dreamland. She's a bitter snarky alcoholic, cause AGAIN, NEVER SEEN THAT CHARACTER DONE BEFORE! The series follows her, as well as her personal demon Luci and her elf companion Elfo through various misadventures. Think what Futurama did with Sci-fi but with a fantasy setting and you have this show. Only...Comedy Centeral era Futurama.  I didn't really enjoy the first seven or so episodes of this show that much. The show wasn't bad per say, but it wasn't really anything great either. This show is aimed slightly more towards adults than Matt Groening's previous works, having a TV-14 rating instead of a TV-PG. The humor is a bit darker and edgier, and it lead to this very mean spirited feel over the entire show. The cast aren't particularly likable, and Dreamland just isn't a fun setting to be around. One thing I did like however was the fact that the show had an on going continuity and changing status quo. This is refreshing considering that Matt Groenings other shows (mainly The Simpsons) are famous for almost always returning to their status quo.  But here's the weird thing, starting with episode 8, the show suddenly has this MASSIVE spike in quality out of nowhere as all the plot points that have been building over the course of the season all start to pay off. The characters all become a lot more likable. The stakes are raised. Like, it's weird how different these last three episodes are. I'd go into more detail, but unfortunately I can't due to spoilers, but trust me, the show gets better. It's not "classic Simpsons" or "classic Futurama" good, but still. It's not THAT far off.  This sudden spike in quality makes it hard for me to decide how to rate this show. But since most of the run is pretty sub par, I kinda just have to average it out. Unfortunately due to the continuity you can't just skip till the end. It all really depends how patient you are. But even the bad stuff isn't awful or anything. It's just kinda bland. The show was picked up for a second season and I am looking forward to seeing where this show will go. I think that season two could be something great, but just talking about season one, it's...okay. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  Hey, it feels like it's been a while since we had a controversy. 

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

 It seems recently there are so many streaming services out there creating there own original series, it's hard to keep track. You got Netflix, Hulu, DC Universe, Soon they'll be Disney+...Oaxis-  So it only made since for a site like Cruchyroll to start making they're own exclusive content. You'd think they would just hire some anime studio to make originals for them like Netflix does. But no, they decided to go with a more American styled series. High Guardian Spice. The trailer doesn't reveal much about the show, but plot wise it sounds eerily similar similar to RWBY. About a group of girls all named after different spices going to school to become "Guardians." Whatever that means.  There were a lot of reason people were upset. From it be a more Americanized looking series. To the fact that Cruchyroll's (from what I hear) site having some interface problems that some people would rather have them devoting the money on fixing. But the main reason people were upset was because of the series trailer spent more time talking about the diversity of the crew and characters than they did the show plot. Outrage was also sparked from the fact that they use the fact that they have an all female writers room as a sign of there "diversity." Even though having a writers room were everyone is the same gender isn't actually diverse.  I have no problem with diversity in my stories. But the fact that they chose to focus on it as a highlight when they talked so little about the story of the characters is what has me worried. It makes me worried that the crew aren't confident enough in the series premise and characters to carry the series on it's own. It's better to make a story that's good first, and diverse second as oppose to the other way around. When you do it the other way, you end up with Ghostbusters 2016. I think. I never saw it, but I hear it's "okay" at BEST. People don't like things shoved down there throats, even if it's something they agree with. Most people support diversity. But when you tell them that they HAVE to support it, that's what makes people start to hate it. Humans are very spiteful creatures in that regard.  However, despite all of that, I'm still kinda excited for this show. I LOVE the art style. And you all know by now that I love me a good girly cartoon. And many other shows that boast about their diversity (Like Steven Universe and She Ra, which I'll get to in little bit) still manage to be good. It can be distracting when you see a cartoon and know what ideals the creators are trying to push. I get it. But sometimes you just have to take the death of the author approach, and just see the show for what it is on it's own. You might be surprised by what you can enjoy. We'll have to wait to see how this show pans out. But if they're able to include some Mike Toole, I'm sold. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  It seems like every year we have one BIG cartoon finale. 2016 had Gravity Falls. 2017 had Regular Show. And now after eight long years, it's time for Adventure Times Grand Finn-ale.  ...I'm not sorry.  Adventure Time ended with an hour long episode "Come Along with Me." I'll try to not spoil the special TOO much for those who haven't seen it, but if you want to go in completely blind I suggest skipping down to the next segment cause this is your SPOILER WARNING. The special revolves around the Gum War between Princess Bubblegum and her Uncle Gumbald. A plot that had been slowly growing all season. On top of that, Betty and Normal Man are trying to find a way to turn Ice King back into Simon.  The things I do like about the finale is just the sheer number of callbacks that were made. While I think a few did go over my head, as there are a few episodes of Adventure Time I've never gotten around to seeing, it's nice to see so many returning concepts and characters. I'm glad they included things from the entire series run, instead of just the "classic" episodes that most people would recognizes. It rewards fans who stuck around for the long haul. It was also nice seeing most of the series lingering plot points wrap up. And we finally got to see the kiss that we've all been waiting years for. And kudos to CN for allowing them to do it. It was very brave of them.  I am of course talking about LSP and Lemongrab, baby! Wooh! 

 There's also the ending. Which is just a montage set to the end credits song showing where all the characters end up after the series. I love endings like this so damn much, and while it didn't hit me as hard as Regular Show's finales montage, it still hits the feels.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mIkS8eGCKOU

 The special does have it's flaws though. The Gum War really felt like an anti-climax and the shift to GOLB felt very out of left field. Also the fate of Uncle Gumbald left a very bad taste in my mouth. It kinda felt like they went against the whole point they tried to make. I admit that I didn't enjoy this finale as much as I did the Gravity Falls or Regular Show finales, but it's still sad seeing Adventure Time go. It defined cartoons of the 2010's. And I don't think they'res been a show since that's been quite like it. Even though the later seasons weren't as good, Adventure Time will always have a special place in my heart. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  Netflix continues to pump out series after series with another new series, Dragon Prince.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PWEtCsi3Eo8

 Dragon Prince is a series set in a fantasy world in the midst of war. On one side is the humans, and on the other side the Elves and Dragons. The series follows two human princes, Callum and Ezran as well as a elf assassin named Rayla, as they go on a quest that will hopefully bring peace to there world.  The series features a lot of crew and voice actors who previously worked on Avatar: The Last Airbender. And it shows. I mean both shows follow a group of kids traveling through a fantasy world in the middle of a war. The seasons are called books, and each book based on a different element of the magic system. I was worried this show would falls end up being just a carbon copy of Avatar. But luckily, the show does manage to have it's own feel despite having a lot of stimulates.  The animation is a bit of a mixed bag. It's cel shaded CGI, similar to RWBY. But despite the series being made by a company much bigger than Rooster Teeth, the animation is so much more lag-y. Something about the frame rate seems off at times. Also I noticed background characters being copied and recolored a few times in my watch. But none of this took me to much out of the experience.  The characters and writing are all really good for the most part. One of the best parts of Avatar was how it showed that both sides of the war had normal people. And Dragon Prince takes this element and brings it one step further. Neither side of the war are depicted as wholly right or wholly wrong, with both sides committing terrible acts. That's a lot of complexity for a show that's aimed at children. However, there is a villain who, while I won't reveal who he/she is, feels very cartoonishly evil for this otherwise complex world. Like, you could make this character complex very easily. A lot of the villains goals and reasoning makes sense, and are even justifiable. But the methods used are just the most mustache twirling ways of achieving these goals, even when there are less evil ways of accomplishing the same thing. It's weirdly out of place.  However, despite the flaws, Dragon Prince is a really good show that manages to feel similar to Avatar while still being it's own thing. I highly recommend you check it out.   -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  Speaking of Avatar, Netflix is making one! Particularly a live action reboot. And just...Why?  Money-    Yes, I know it's money! But everybody already love the original Avatar! What is there to change? What needs to be updated? And what can be done in live action that can't be done in animation. It feels like all these live action remakes only exist in order to "legitimize" their animated counterparts. Cause God forbid something animated be watched by adults. I dunno. There's a very good chance this could be good, but I doubt it'll be better than the original series. I have no interest in this. Netflix, you have Dragon Prince! You don't need this! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  But Netflix isn't done yet! Cause we also have Hilda! Based on the series of graphic novels of the same name.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XCojP2Ubuto

 Hilda follows...Hilda. A young adventurous girl who spent her whole life living in a magical forest with her Mom. That is until one day her Mom decides to move to the city of Trolberg. Now Hilda has to learn to adapt to her new surroundings in the city, learn to make friends with normal humans, and deal with magical creatures. Cause despite the fact that Trolberg has a wall designed to keep magical creatures out, the city really sucks at doing so.    This shows really cute! The art style reminds me of a cross between Steven Universe and The Loud House. But with any series involving kids interacting with magical creatures the comparisons are going to be brought up. Is Hilda the next Over The Gravity Garden Falls? Seriously, ever video on Youtube about Hilda brings up this comparison.  And really, outside of the premise of "adventurous child exploring magical forest" Hilda isn't really like either of those shows. Hilda is a lot lighter in tone than those two series. The monsters aren't as scary and the humor is a lot less snarky. There aren't really that many "jokes" in Hilda as the series relies more on overall pleasantness. Also there isn't any real overarching mystery element in Hilda. It's more slice of life. Why can't Hilda just be the next...Hilda?  It's a quaint show. From the animation, to the tone, to the voice acting, it all just feels so cozy. I also love the creativity with all the different creatures they come up with. It's has a unique charm to it, and it's fun seeing a world where everyone just knows magic exist and society has integrated with it. If I had to point out a few flaws, I'd say that the subplot they have with Hilda's best friend Frieda wasn't very good. I really have no idea what they were going for with that. And the show can be a bit repetitive at times, but that might just be because I had to binge it in order to finish it in time for this review. But overall this is a really nice show. Check it out if you can. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  OK KO is well known for it's crossovers from Captain Planet to Mighty Magiswords. But this year, they created the ultimate crossover. And if we could just appreciate the dedication to the past that the crew for OK KO clearly had when making this crossover? You all know what I'm talking about right? OK KO meet Scooby-Doo and the Ghoul School Baby! That's right, the crossover that we've all been waiting for.

 ...  AND THEY SAID AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR WAS THE MOST AMBITIOUS CROSSOVER OF ALL TIME!  They were even allowed to use the original Hannah-Barbara model sheets. This is notable as I think it's the first time OK KO has ever actually used a model sheet. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  Hey, everybody loves Fallout 76, right? While we all agree the game is a flawless masterpiece, I just wish there was a way to somehow make it even better. Like, what if we got the twitch streamer Ninja, The rapper Logic, and RICK AND MORTY to all live stream the game together? Now THAT would be a lot of IQ....

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zMZhhTOF4l8

 ...  aNd ThEy SaId ThAt AvEnGeRs: InFiItY wAr WaS tHe MoSt AmBiTiOuS cRoSsOvEr oF AlL tImE!! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I swear, Netflix won't be satisfied until they make at least one thousand original animated series a year. Here's She-Ra and the Princess of Power. Not to be confused with She-Ra: Princess of Power. That's the 80's show.  Good job naming your show there, Netflix! 

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

This is the cheesiest theme song ever, I love it so much!  Now, from what I understand, a lot of OG She-Ra fans don't like this reboot because it changed so much from the original. However, as someone who knows next to nothing about She-Ra or He-Man, I'm can't really comment on any inaccuracies. So I'm going to have to judge it as it's own thing.  She-Ra follows Adora, a child solider serving as force captain in The Horde army. But one day, after finding a magical sword in the forest, she gains the ability to transform into the Hero, She-Ra. Not long after that she finds out that, shock of all shock, the army that's literally called THE HORDE are actually the bad guys. so she defects from the Horde, and joins the Rebellion with her new friends Bow and Glimmer. Now Adora, along with a growing army of magical princesses, must find a way to fight back against the Horde. Meanwhile The Horde, specifically Adora adopted sister/possible...lover Catra try to bring her back to her "home."  I like this show. It's not amazing or anything. But it's a fun, girly action series. That's something I like about Netflix, it's one of the only channels out there that's not afraid to do action series. While the characters aren't that complex, they're fun and all have good chemistry together. Everybody feels like a real person. And this applies to both the Rebellion and the Horde. The show does a good job of juggling a lot of characters, while still keeping focus on the main cast.  AND YOU WANNA TALK SAD, LONELY LESBIANS! THIS WHOLE SHOW IS A SAD LONELY LESBIAN! Though did anyone else find it a bit strange that Adora's relationship with Catra seemingly bounces back and forth between "sister" and "lover." Like, I don't care which way you go with, but you really need to pick one or the other...  I know a lot of people are annoyed by the fact that a lot of classic designs and characters were changed to make the show more diverse. I didn't mind this to much. Adaptations change race, sexuality, and body types all the time. And I can only think of one time where it ever felt distracting, and even then it was brief. I never found it to bothersome.  Downsides though, the tone is kinda wonky at times. Nothing to noticeable, but sometimes it seems like the show is trying to be a serious action adventure, while other times it feels like it's trying to be campy like the 80's series. There's an episode called "Princess Prom" and it's one of the turning points in the season. Like, how am I suppose to take this seriously. But luckily it never gets that bad. I think the show is somewhat aware of a wink and nod nature to the show. It's a fun series. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  And unfortunately, we have to end the year on a downer note. As Stephen Hillenburg, creator of Spongebob, passed away at the age of 57 from ALS. I don't know what to say. I hate taking an entire human beings life and acting like there art is all that mattered. But as I don't know the man personally, I'll just say that he created one of the most well know fictional characters of all time. Spongebob is the first thing most people think of when you say Nickelodeon. And it's one of the few characters that I think will be remembered even a hundred years in the future, along the likes of Mickey Mouse, Bugs Bunny, and Popeye. Even in death, his legacy will live on. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  And with that, we end 2018 year in review! It's been a hell of a wild ride! But how does the year rank overall? First, we'll start with my old favorite. Ranking the series in a way that'll end up regretting in a month! Keep in mind this is a rough list. List aren't really my specially, and each show offers and is going for it's own unique thing. So sometimes it's hard to compare them. Also these rankings could change in the following year as new episodes come out. But if I had to rank them... 9. Apple and Onion 8. Craig of the Creek 7. Final Space 6. Disenchantment 5. Nomad of Nowhere 4. She Ra and The Princess of Power 3. Ballmastrz 9006 2. Hilda 1. Dragon Prince  And keep in mind that, due to both a lack of time and lack of cable, there were a lot of shows I wasn't able to check out or just wasn't interested in discussing. Like these!  (Big City Greens, Harvey Street Kids, Mega Man: Fully Charged, Muppet Babies, Our Cartoon President (HAHA! Trump jokes! Never seen those before!), Paradise PD (Cause we definitely need another show from the makers of Brickleberry!), Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Star Wars Resistance, Summer Camp Island, Super Drags, The Adventures of Kid Danger, The Epic Tales of Captain Underpants, The Hollow, The Shivering Truth, Total Dramarama)  As for the grade, it's a bit tricky. If I had to go just by the shows, I'd give it a B. They're weren't many shows I LOVED but they're weren't many shows I outright hated. Most shows this year were "good." But if we decide to count all the drama, that would drag the year all the way down to a C. There was just so much drama that, along with a few other personal reasons, I found myself kinda falling out of the animation community as a whole this year. And when the drama actually starts making you wonder why you entered this community in the first place, that's not a good thing. So take that for what you will.  As for best network, I once again have to give it to Netflix. I know it's kinda unfair since I didn't watch any Nickelodeon or Disney shows this year. But with so many more shows and channels watching a show from each is getting harder and harder. And Netflix is just pumping out series after series. And most of them are pretty good. It feels like the people at Netflix are really given free range to do whatever they want over there. And we get some really unique series as a result. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  2018 may not have been the best year for animation, but I really think that 2019 is going to be a really good year. I mean just with what's already been announced we've got so many good series to look forward to! There's Infinity Train, Owl House, Amphibia, Los Casagrandes, Victor and Valentino, Gen: Lock, Harley Quinn, Young Justice Season Three, Theoretically Close Enough! Plus a lot more! Seriously, next year I'm either going to have to cut out a lot of anticipated series or make this a three part-er. Which would you prefer? And what did you think of 2018 for animation? What series were the best, and which were the worst? Leave any thoughts in the comments down bellow, I'd love to hear em. Fav, Follow, and comment if you like the review. And have a great new year. And let's all hope that 2019 can have a little less drama.  Um, isn't Thundercats Roar and High Guardian Spice coming out next year too? 2019 is going to be the biggest dumper fire ye-  Have a great day. (I do not own any of the images or videos in this review. All credit goes to there original owners.) 

  https://www.deviantart.com/joyofcrimeart/journal/2018-Year-in-REVIEW-Part-2-779673316 DA Link

[eturni]

The world is ending (but my whole world is you)

Based entirely from this amazing, heartbreaking art by @millerizo

https://millerizo.tumblr.com/post/186388494906/could-you-say-it-again-for-me-angel-hi-please

It was 10 minutes until the end of the world:

And Crowley was fussing over his appearance, stomach tight with nerves he’d deny until his last breath. This was an extraordinarily long time for an immortal being whose corporation didn’t actually need to breathe.

It was also 8 months, 3 weeks and 6 days since Armageddo-Not-Today-Thank-You. Crowley had wasted no time in getting back on the ‘our side, run away with me, anything for you angel’ horse and as such was due to pick Aziraphale up for dinner at a small sushi restaurant the other favoured. It didn’t hurt that the place also had excellent sake.

Crowley was raising an eyebrow at himself in the mirror and trying to decide if he should leave his belt as it was or let it sit casually askew when something insidious prickled its way up the back of his neck. It settled into the back of his brain with an almost snakelike hiss. It was the same sense of unease that had drawn him to the Bastille, forced him bodily into a church in the war, led him desperately towards a burning bookshop.

He was in his car, phone in hand calling Aziraphale in a space of time too quick for a human’s mind to register. The tightness in his stomach from before was now the knot of some terrible beast twisting over itself and doing its best to turn into a clawing, mind numbing panic. This felt too familiar. Too soon. Crowley ruthlessly pushed back against it, tried to think of other things even as the phone continued to ring unanswered. Panic roared and thrashed as it tried to rise in his throat and Crowley only pushed down harder. There was no reason for it. He was being paranoid. But there’d been fire everywhere.

He set the phone ringing again and thought of how fine Aziraphale would definitely be. The better things that had happened in the Bentley.

Read at AO3  https://archiveofourown.org/works/19979650 or

  Aziraphale’s grip was white knuckled around the console of the Bentley as some poor soul on the street just barely managed a miraculous leap back onto the pavement away from the speeding vehicle.

Crowley grinned at him from behind dark glasses, not bothering to really watch the road. The Bentley knew better than to stray off to road, after all. For all of the fuss about his driving Aziraphale had rarely opted to walk rather than being driven around.

Aziraphale turned to him and his grin only grew when the angel bit his lip nervously, watching the flesh trapped between teeth. “Crowley please watch the road.” He begged. Crowley rolled his eyes but did turn front and centre. “I love you but you  do  go too fast for me.” The angel sighed with relief.

Crowley almost rear-ended the car in front. “What?!”

“Eyes on the road Crowley!”

“ Ssssay that again, angel.”

“What? Oh, yes, I’m sorry. I know how much you hate me talking about your speeding habits.” Aziraphale pursed his lips, fussing at his hands in his lap.

“No… The other thing angel.” Crowley pressed, taking his foot off the pedal just a little. Give both of them some breathing room as his heart pounded in his head.

“Ah, yes. I do love you.” Aziraphale smiled perhaps a little nervously, turning the full, soft force of it on the demon.

  He had to pull over until he figured out how to speak again.

It was 3 minutes until the end of the world.

Crowley screeched the Bentley to a stop in the spot that was always miraculously clear when he arrived. There was no raging inferno, no crime scene. No sign of anything out of place. Crowley wished that it did anything to calm the desperate animal trying to claw its way up through his throat.

The shop was closed. This was not unusual. It opened easily under Crowley’s hand. This was only mildly confusing for the door that had been fairly certain it was locked but was also used to being confused when this particular occult being approached.

Crowley slammed the door closed behind him. “Aziraphale? Bit early, you ready?” He called out, willing his voice not to waver.

Everything looked fine, perfectly in place. Books still in absolutely no discernible order, furniture still ridiculously tartan and well worn and spotless. But there was the sense of something cold and ethereal here, not the normal warmth of his angel. It was something that shouldn’t be leaving that unease that Crowley never, ever felt in Aziraphale’s shop. This was one of the safest places in existence for him. This was where he was invariably happiest. He distractedly ran a hand over one of the sofas as he headed towards the back room.

  Crowley was laid back, head resting in Aziraphale’s lap as the angel ran deft, comforting fingers through his hair. He was pleasantly buzzed from good food and better wine but he was, as always, more warm and off guard just for the fact of the other’s undivided attention on him.

“Hey angel?”

“Hmm?” Aziraphale blinked back to reality from where he’d completely lost himself. Looking at Crowley. It made the demon’s chest constrict with warmth.

“Could you say that thing again?”

“I love you.” Crowley expected a beaming smile, or perhaps one of Aziraphale’s more devious smirks if he was going to use the evidence of him being soft against him later. Instead the smile was warm, with the confidence of millennia of love and understanding.

  Crowley could feel the heat on his face and the absolutely stupid lovesick smile he knew he must have. But what did it matter? Alone in the shop with Aziraphale and no sides left to speak of everyone else could go hang.

“Again.” He whispered.

“I love you.” The smile turned bright and affectionate.

“Again!” The demon demanded biting his lips together and trying to hide a delight that wouldn’t be contained.

“I love you!” Aziraphale declared, pushing up Crowley’s glasses so that he could look into his over bright eyes.

“One last time?” Crowley reached up and placed a tentative hand to his angel’s cheek, revelling in the warmth there.

“Crowley, as many times as you want. I” Aziraphale leaned in, kissing at the snake tattoo “love” his lips moved along Crowley’s jaw, enjoying the slight shiver he got in return. “you.” Aziraphale pulled Crowley closer still, letting their lips meet in a lazy kiss that knew it had the privilege of all the time in the world on it’s side.

It was 2 and a half minutes until the end of the world.

Crowley paused on the threshold to the back room, throat closing up as the howling of the panic in him overcame his brain’s attempts to process the scene in front of him. The window was shattered, a few books strewn across the floor where they’d been toppled for their position as fingers scrambled for purchase.

And there, in the midst of it, Aziraphale on the floor, eyes glassy with pain barely seeing as Crowley entered the room, rushing to his side.

“Aziraphale? What happened?  Shit  what’s going on?” He quickly looked over the angel, hands trembling so much he could barely grab his jacket enough to push it out of the way.

Aziraphale whimpered in pain, teeth trying to grit against it. His hand came up, slow and uncertain, and pressed up against his ribs.

Crowley desperately took Aziraphale’s hand in his, squeezing it between them and feeling sick as he carefully pulled it away. There was a small hole there, just below the heart, steadily leaking blood that wasn’t nearly as celestial looking as it should.

“Shit, okay. I’m going to fix this.” Crowley croaked, lacing his fingers firmly with Aziraphale’s and squeezing, though he didn’t know who he was comforting more.

 Fingers lacing with fingers. A faint squeeze out in the open, in St James’ park, just because he can now.

  Crowley and Aziraphale sat at the same park bench they always haunted, watching the world pass by with all the indifference of any couple who couldn’t see anything outside of the two of them. Aziraphale had moved first, always a shock, and taken his hand, shuffling close enough that Crowley could feel the heat from shoulder to hip to knee right down his right side. He had to bite down on his tongue to not grin.

“Could you say it again?” He asked, shuffling until he was all angles again but never breaking the contact of their hands.

“I love you.” Aziraphale smiled, bringing their twinned hands up to brush a kiss against Crowley’s fingers.

It was 2 minutes until the end of the world.

Crowley took in a deep, shaking breath and snapped his fingers, demonic energy surging in the air.

Aziraphale let out a cry of pain, blood bubbling up through the wound as something sparked under the flesh with cold, Heavenly light.

Crowley almost scrambled back but his body wouldn’t let him move away from his angel, even if it blinded him. “No, no, no. What’s wrong? What happened? What do I  do ?” The demon could quickly feel all traces of composure leaving him, blood rushing away from his face so quickly he thought his corporation might faint on him.

He felt a gentle squeeze of his hand, too soft, and looked up to the angel’s face, surprised to find the image shimmering with the prickle behind his eyes. “My dear” the voice had a wet wheeze that made Crowley feel like the floor had dropped out from under him. Like Falling but worse. “I think this is it.”

“No, you can’t. They won’t give you another body.”

“Feels mortal. Feels… more.” Aziraphale struggled to get enough breath into the body to speak.

Crowley felt similar. “ No. ” He demanded, grip too tight on Aziraphale’s hand but the other didn’t even grimace.

“It’s down to the soul. Gabriel.” Aziraphale wheezed and Crowley thought he was going to throw up. Or pass out. Or burn everything around him.

What could he even do against something protected from his miracles?

Anathema. The witch wasn’t truly ethereal or occult. Silly girl had to have something. He reached into his pocket, hand slick with blood and fumbled to unlock his phone with a shaking hand. He didn’t dare remove the other from his angel’s? Anathema was suddenly in his contacts, a number his phone shouldn’t know. It was one that Aziraphale’s phone knew, however. And despite the generational gap it did what it could to make sure that Crowley got exactly what he needed. Aziraphale had kept in quite close contact with the others after Armagedidn’t after all.

 Aziraphale was stood in the back room on the ancient phone that Crowley swore was just backwards enough to be coming back into fashion with hipsters. He gave Crowley a quick, welcoming wave as he asked about some new divining ritual or something.

  Crowley wasn’t listening, he was grinning deviously at his angel from across the room. “Say it again for me.”

  Aziraphale glowered at the demon, mouthing his name over the top of the receiver as though scandalised. It didn’t mask the pleased glint in his angel’s eyes.

“You said, any time I needed it.” He leaned against the bookshelf nearest to him with his hip cocked out at an angle designed to show he was challenging Aziraphale.

  The angel sighed as though completely put out. “I love you.” It was no less thrilling the hundredth time than it had been the first. “Hmm? Oh no, not you Anathema. Just a particularly clingy...” He trailed off, looking down at the phone in his hand wryly. “Why yes, just that actually.”

It was less than a minute until the end of the world.

Aziraphale’s breaths were coming shallower and Crowley was biting back a scream when the line finally picked up. “Yes! Angel, stay with me! Anathema, what do you do with a magically treated weapon? It’s lodged in there and I can’t heal him!”

“What? Is that Crowley? What’s-”

Crowley’s wings flared out of his back as he lost most semblances of control, desperate to do anything to protect his angel. “No time!” He hissed, desperately. “How do I get it out? Or neutralise it? He’s bleeding out!”

“I don’t know. I’ll look through what I have. What’s happening?” Anathema finally sounded worried enough for Crowley. He disregarded anything that wasn’t an answer for him.

“Move fast! And you stay with me. You’re not going anywhere.” His voice landed somewhere between a snarl and a hiss. His eyes stung, the heat of tears over his cheeks burning like holy water.

Aziraphale looked up at him and even beyond the cloud of pain Crowley could see the unmistakable undertone of pity there. Of a deep sorrow. “Not enough… time.” He sighed out.

Crowley bit his cheek hard enough to draw blood. “No! Stay with me! I… say it again. You promised.” There was the faint edge of hysteria and Crowley couldn’t find it in him to care.

Aziraphale’s lips twitched up in the best smile he could manage and he reached up, slow and painful, to touch Crowley’s cheek. The demon gripped hold of it, pressed it against the wetness of his cheek. “I love you.” The sound was barely there, like being passed through a sea of stars to reach him.

Crowley’s wings wrenched with a sob that racked his whole body. “I love you too. You have to stay.” He begged, watching with terror as the faint light behind Aziraphale’s eyes dimmed further and further.

“Move faster!” He roared, not even sure where the phone was any more as he clung to Aziraphale’s hand in his. As the angel lost the strength to hold it on his own.

It went limp in his hand and the noise that whined from the pit of Crowley’s soul wasn’t human. “Aziraphale, no. Say it again.” He clutched at the hand in his, tears dripping through the space between them. The silence that answered him was somehow louder than a hurricane in his own head.

“Please say it again, I’m  begging  you-”

The world ended inside the circle of his arms and Crowley couldn’t even find the breath to scream.

[raisegrate]

NaNoWriMo Day 1

Chapter One

Miriam’s Freelance Nightclub, Fightclub, and Bring Your Own Buffet was the sort of underground gambling den that used to be a building, but then had sort of fallen into the river, and so now was boat. It’s clientele didn’t mind, all the leaks added to the ambiance, and the occasional fish flopping around on the gaming tables was surely good luck. They were the sort of people whose  body odors and fashion choices were considered far too bizarre to be allowed entry into most land-based establishments.

In the main hall there was handful of mismatched tables running a handful of mismatched games. Sometimes you thought you were playing poker, but it turned out you had been playing mahjong the whole time. To one side was the Bring Your Own Buffet, which was filled with the finest meats and cheeses that had been in smuggled in via someone’s trouser pockets. In the corner was a lone dancing girl, dressed to the nines in frocks and feathers and lace, not doing any dancing, but sitting in a chair, with a sock on each hand, putting on a very angry puppet show. She didn’t work there, and no one was brave enough to ask her what exactly she thought she was doing. This had been going on for weeks now, but as long as she was brought fresh cigarettes every twenty minutes she didn’t get too violent. To one side, someone played piano, but not on purpose.

At the largest table, the most ridiculous card game ever conceived was happening, and almost everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch and place bets on the card players. The three professional card-sharks and the one amateur card-lobster had never enjoyed losing money so much. Their opponent, a rank amateur, had been trying to hustle them for nearly 20 minutes, was failing spectacularly, and yet winning. It was fascinating.

The game was called ‘Cheating’ and it is without a doubt the best card game never invented. There are no rules, the winner is the one who wins, and the unofficial world champion was a tall, dark, and handsome ostrich that usually went by the name of Tbyrd Fearlessness. Well, not so much handsome as interestingly lopsided, with a mixture of light and dark feathers, and some featherless portions that were a kind of medium tone. But tall, yes, definitely. Somewhere between 6’6” and 7’7” depending on how much wiggling he was doing.

“I was taught this move by the Maharaja of Mongolia, when I was a captive in her tree-fortress in Peru.” said Tbyrd casually, leaning across the table, and taking three cards out of his opponent’s hand unexpectedly. “I was researching a book I wasn’t writing, someone else did all the writing, I just did the research. I’m too busy to be a famous author, what with my numerous speaking engagements, romantic affairs, and duels. I hate these cards.” he announced with disgust, and ripped them into tiny pieces. This was of course, slight of hand, as he had been holding mainly napkins. Tbyrd reached up to scratch his scalp, and then casually pulled six aces out from underneath his crumpled and grubby stetson. He did so with a look of extreme innocence on his face. Three of the aces were aces of hearts, there was an ace of spades, an ace of hammers, and an ace of leprechauns, which looked hand-drawn.

“Vhy vould ze Maharaja of Mongolia have a base of operations in Peru?” asked one of Tbyrd’s card opponennts, finally managing to get a word in edgewise, albeit slipping in and out a fake french accent. This was the Viscount Henrique Von Hollandaise, or so it said on all his business cards. The Viscount had the most magnificent coat and collar anyone had seen, with sequins and fleur de lises, and a cape, but no pants. The Viscount was visiting nobleman, visiting from a totally not fake foreign country that no one had ever heard of, and was on a personal mission to seduce everyone in San Frandiego. He had lost two hundred dollars at cards so far, and was having a wonderful time. He would occasionally take off a large piece of silver jewelry off his coat, and hand it to someone in the audience in exchange for new cards that he liked.

Sitting kitty corner to the Viscount was a very large very beautiful very woman, who was wearing a patently false beard and speaking in a deep voice for no readily apparent reason. She went by the name Madam Gilderiqué. The Viscount had been rubbing what he thought was her leg underneath the table for twenty minutes, and had been finding it very splintery. Madam Gilderiqué had quite a lot of her lipstick smeared into her beard, as she was trying to cultivate the idea that she was a vampire, and was avoiding mirrors, and garlic, and above all, garlic mirrors. She had been playing the card game mostly with Tarot cards, so every time she laid one down, she made a grand pronouncement about how was going to drop dead any moment, or inherit a vast fortune, or in one case, inherit a vast number of people that had dropped dead.

The final card player was three small urchin children stuffed into a trench coat, all smoking large cigars, and kicking people under the table strategically.

“I raise ze bet to this miniature sculpture of the palace of Dairy I keep in my left hand pocket at all times.” said the Viscount, removing a pointy silver thing that he purported was his childhood home.”

“I see your sculpture, and raise you this skull.” said Madam Gilderiqué, plonking a great big animal onto the table, produced from who knows where about her person.

“I don’t see how that is of equal value to my beautiful sculpture.” said the Count, kissing his tiny silver box, and cutting himself slightly about the mustache.

Madam Gilderiqué unscrewed one of the skull’s horns, and poured a herself large measure of rum, or tea or something brown and syrupy. She took a sip, getting several of her fake beard hairs into the cup, and then sighed a sigh of such profound refreshment that there was a rush on the bar.

Lil Trenchcoaty, the urchin collective slapped a burlap sack with a pumpkin drawn on it onto the table, and a several pieces of toffee and butterscotch tumbled out. A large bagful of candy like this was worth a lot on the underground sugar market. “I see your bets, and call. Tbyrd?” squeaked a little innocent voice, taking another big puff from it’s cigar.

Tbyrd hadn’t been paying attention, as his attention had been fully occupied with taking a baked potato and steak off of someone’s plate, and eating it whole without them noticing. He hadn’t succeeded. “Hmm?” he asked, wiping caramelized onions off his whatever birds have instead of a 5 o’clock shadow.

“If you wanna stay in the game, you gotta produce some treasure.”

“Hmm.”

Tbyrd eyeballed his cards theatrically, and thumbed through his meagre winnings. He mostly just planned to stay in the game long enough to get as much free food as possible, actually winning wasn’t something that usually happened to him. His whole life had been more of a delaying tactic, rather than a quest for success. The crowd behind him had been placing bets on who would win the card game. The card game was not the main source of gambling, it was the gamblers betting on it. Miriam could convince anyone to bet on anything, and this was so much easier than hosting a horse race on her tiny boat of a building. Horses were allowed in of course. Mules, ponies, giraffes, all ungulates were welcome.  Miriam’s didn’t discriminate against species, just jerks.

Tbyrd continued to rearrange his cards, take more cards out his belt, pick other people’s pockets under the table with his feet, and roll a pair of dice no one had ever seen before, and would never see again. “Quit stalling!” His opponents demanded. They wanted to see who this turned out as much as anyone.

“Fine. I had to sell most of my pirate treasure to pay back the pirates who’s tropical island hideout resort I had stumbled upon. But they did leave me this treasure map…” Tbyrd held up a stained and ancient piece of parchment, rolled into a tight tube, and sealed with a wax in the shape of a pirate. He had made it himself a few hours ago, out of his preferred medium, napkins.

“What’s it a map to?” The goggling crowd asked in delight, cheering and spilling their drinks with excitement.

“Gold?”

“Silver?”

“Copper?”

“Copper?!? That ain’t a treasure worth digging up, you break your back all day to make a penny’s worth!”

“Copper conducts electricity, in would be quite valuable if anyone invented a way to transmit electro-magnetic pulses.”

“Sez you.”

And here the members of the audience whom had strong opinions about treasure classification had some minor fisticuffs, and everyone took a break to watch and place bets on that. Eventually, the one with the most muscles won, and the other went off to lick his wounds, or perhaps pay someone else to do it for him.

Tbyrd regained his audience’s attention by climbing onto the table and making it wobble dramatically. “This is a map to the long lost in-land coral reefs of the Klamdike!”

The crowd ooh’d and ahh’d appropriately. The Klamdike was that region of land far to the north, that while technically completely within the borders of Canada, was a territory whose ownership was currently being disputed by between the United States and Mexico, both claiming to have seen it first. Their arguments were mostly being made with cannons. The region had once been part of the inland sea, and had coral reefs of the most astounding beauty, filled with the fossilized remains of a million years worth of clams. 20 foot long razorbacked dinosaur clams had produced pearls the size of cannonballs, indeed, the US Navy had been using them as cannonballs until the muck rubbed off and they realized how valuable the ammunition turned out to be. The entire Klamdike valley was inhospitable and difficult to reach. One had to climb a freezing geyser, and ski down the active volcano on the other side. If one survived unsigned, one then had to bypass three separate armies determined to claim the land for themselves. Their was also the local flora and fauna, which included Sabre-toothed Moose, and exploding needlepines.

“But Tbyrd, everyone knows where the valley is. It’s been in the papers for weeks and months since the discovery! Everyone wants to get up there, that’s not the problem!”

“Ah, but that’s the beauty of my map, it shows the secret path into the valley that bypasses all the hardships, and is also mostly downhill. With this map, a cunning miner could get wheelbarrows full of pearls out under the noses of those navies”

“Where did you get this map?” Madame Gilderiqué demanded.

“The lost city of El Dorito.” Tbyrd replied smugly, sipping on someone’s beverage, and spitting it out because it wasn’t sarsaparilla.

This made sense. El Dorito totally sounded like the sort of lost city someone who claimed to be a world famous adventurer would find a long lost map to a brand new treasure at.

People in the 1800’s are dumb.

Tbyrd slapped the map on the table, just as rope holding the the chandelier above his head was cut, causing it to smash him lightly in the head, and all the candlelight in the room to snuff out, plunging everyone into darkness.

Tbyrd awoke a little while later, as the burlap sack he had been shoved into was tossed into the ocean.