#but it’s very hard because I am a self-obsessed narcissist who LOVES the sound of her own voice

[bluemoondust]

Could You Do Yandere Headcanons For Sayori (DDLC)?

✧General Yandere Headcanons✧ — Sayori

Sayori my beloved (ღ˘ω˘ღ)

Warning(s): Unhealthy Lifestyle (On Sayori's end), Self Deprecation, Angst (I'm fr cranking this stuff up because aksjkwkwj)

To get things started, Sayori is a very selfless yandere who only wants to make you happy. Sure, she has her moments where she'd like to be selfish with you, but the overwhelming guilt just stops her. So she's put herself in the sidelines for you. The only reason she'd actually put more into pursuing you is either you instigating (of course you none the wiser) or the thought of you never talking to her again becoming too much for her. Even before this, she cherishes you to the point where she would rather die than see you upset/disappointed in her.

In terms of what type of yandere she is, I'd say she's more of a submissive and obsessive yandere. When I mean by submissive, I am referring to the fact that Sayori is a yandere who's emotionally dependent on her darling. To an extreme, but she can manage keeping this information away from you. A large part of her believes that you are what gives her life meaning. You're the reason why she can muster the strength to get up in the morning. Without you, what is the point of it all? It is so unhealthy that Sayori gets extremely anxious when she introduces you to the literature club. Why did she even do this in the first place? She asks herself but she knows that she'd love to have her friends be friends with one another.

Plus, it'd be selfish of her to keep you to herself, she chides. It's better though...being able to spend more time with you in the club. Sayori didn't like the idea of leaving you behind for a simple get together with the others. So, what better way than to bring you along? You'd even love it! However, there's these nagging feeling. It's so...narcissistic to want to show you her writing skills. Are you annoyed that she dragged you along? Maybe you only agreed because she was your friend? Ugh, couldn't she have considered how you felt instead of assuming you'd enjoy being here? She didn't even tell you. How could she just push this onto you!? Are you upset with her? God, why can't these thoughts get out of her head!?

Then you're there. You're here. The noise is gone as she looks at the smile on your face. That's what she was always after. The smile on your face and the sound of your laughter. It's enough to bring her back to reality. She can't lose that. The thought of you leaving brings tears in her eyes as she sobs in the school bathroom. She had nightmares about it before, so Sayori works to the best of her ability to keep you happy. As long as you were happy, she was as well...

The only thing you'd notice out of all of this would be her depression and low self-esteem. You wouldn't really suspect that she was a yandere. It'd play out similar in the game, where you discover her her internal struggles and reassure her that she's not a burden. Sayori is delighted to hear that from you, but again, her thoughts eat at her. She's upset that she made you worry so much about her. It must've been such an inconvenience... You'd have to be very adamant with her, which only causes her to have the need to cling even more. You're only digging a deeper hole.

Sayori doesn't get jealous, she feels envy. She is envious of others who hang out with you. They are so carefree. So free. They didn't hold the gnawing guilt of being too clingy or annoying around you. They can freely be themselves without trouble. She wanted to do that too, but fears she may overstep. She's already your childhood friend, you're probably tired of seeing her too often. It's better to see other people once in a while. Sometimes Sayori would like to be able to read your mind. Then she'd be able to cater to you better. It wouldn't be so hard to guess or assume.

When it comes to danger, she's more of a danger to herself than anyone else. So please keep in mind to watch over her since she may neglect her basic needs. Sayori will lose sleep and forget to eat often. She'll try to act like her bubbly self, but you notice it's not the same. Her eyes don't shine like they always do and her smile seems tired. Confronting her is good, but she will be sent into a spiral. Although she loves the fact that you care so much for her, the ugly thoughts in her mind say that she hates how much attention she's getting for this. They tell her how much she's making herself look pitiful just for you to look only at her. It's...extremely conflicting.

It's a completely different story when she becomes club president as finally wakes up to the true reality. Everything...was fake? No. Her feelings for you weren't fake, they were real. So real that it hurt. Whatever opinion she had on Monika before being a yandere is now...resentment. It was not Sayori who was selfish, it was Monika. She made her feel so awful about loving you to the point of...her mind couldn't fathom such actions. Now, she knew that she couldn't let go of you. Not ever. No matter how much the former club president pleaded for the game to stop. It's too bad, Sayori was now in charge. Just Sayori.

[painisntn33ded]

Can i ask what you mean by you don't believe in the term narcissistic abuse? /genq

i only ask because i am a victim of said type of abuse and im genuinely curious to hear and like i want to say that i do know npd =/= abusive by default /gen

feel free to not answer if youre not comfortable sharing ♥️

Hey, sorry for not responding to this for so long life has been a bit messy. I think it's really important that we differentiate the idea of NPD from the idea of inherrent abusiveness. By using the term "narcissistic abuse" we directly imply that it's a special type of abuse that only people with NPD are capable of. If we look at what people define as "narcissistic abuse" it's almost always just forms of emotional abuse like gaslighting, love bombing, etc. that everyone is capable of. Of course people with NPD can be abusive just like people with Depression or Autism or any other disorder can be abusive. But you'd never take these disorders and slap a special abuse label on them. Calling something "depressive abuse" or "autistic abuse" would sound stupid. Of course people with depression, people with autism, people with bpd, people with any disorder can be abusive but we don't treat them with the same inherent capability of abusiveness we treat people with NPD. We see them as individuals who chose to be abusive, who chose to gaslight, love bomb, etc. Maybe you use the term "narcissistic" not as a descriptor for NPD but as a stand in for egotistical or self obsessed. But we can't separate the world "narcissistic" from NPD. When people hear narc abuse they think NPD, this leads to many issues. For example people arm chair diagnosing anyone who has wronged them or hurt them with NPD or the further stigmatisation of NPD. It's important we see NPD as a trauma based disorder, it's complex like any other personality disorder but the kind of stigmatisation pwNPD face actively stops them from accepting the diagnosis, which means also that they don't get the access to the help they would need. It also makes it hard to speak about your experiences, when the diagnosis you have is directly linked in people's minds to the idea that you're abusive or a bad person being open about the fact you have NPD might have a very real negative impact on your interpersonal relationships. We also have to remember that mental health professionals are people too and thus just as prone to social biases as anyone else, from personal experience getting help for a heavily stigmatised disorder is hard and often results in mistreatment from medical professionals. The way we treat NPD, the way we use the term "narc" abuse actively harms abuse victims (which most pwNPD are), actively stops them from understanding themselves and seeking help.

In summary (tldr): "narc" abuse is not a special type of abuse, it's just another term for emotional abuse but in it's terminology it also further stigmatises a group of people in a harmful way

[oraclekleo]

I love how solid you are on your opinion that he's an uninterested guy, (which btw, same as other readers which is insane! He's hard to read for because he won't give info or is extremely mysterious LOL but this anti-love energy must be so potent in his energy because this is the most consistent thing people pick up from him 😂 his unwavering opinion on dating and lack of interest in love, which sounds extremely independent, hesitant or perhaps pain from the past?) I am the same as you both tbh LOL.. it's just... he's incredibly hot and looks like a ladies man (rude stereotype I know 🙄). I don't think I've seen this level of lack of interest from a celeb? Do you think he's aromantic/asexual? That's what I'm leaning towards or perhaps he's just bored of everything? 🤣 In your last reading you said he may be diligently or "carefully" pursuing someone (at the end and that he needs everything to impress them)? On what grounds does he do something like this? Just for flings? It sounds like he met his person to me, like you said in his ideal type? If I'm not mistaken? You said he needs everything possible to impress this partner and that he's not gonna know what hit him when he meets her (you added the frowning picture at the end and made fun of him haha 😂) Idk he's contradictory 💀 but he's sexy and mysterious af so we good ❤️🥰🙄 Wbu what's the reason you're uninterested, the same as him? He always crossed me as someone who's gonna end up settling down anyway or is lowkey hoping his "one" person who's gonna completely change his mind is out there. If he does settle it's probably pressure and image purposes etc However, in my case, I am just extremely not even into the idea, I think I am and then I step out into the world and realise how comfortable and solid I am in my own presence. Freedom is most important to me and I don't think the social "norm" of relationships should stress people out. I don't very much like being owned and I haven't met someone with my mindset. Every man I meet always ends up obsessed or wanting to control/own me because I think my energy screams out that you can't have me. Not in a cocky way but I just don't have interest, I'm baffled my female family members are about that life, maybe I'm a generational chain/karma breaker lol. I'm okay like this but no one believes it 😂 it's nice to be with me and it took me a long time to come to self-love and self-actualisation, it was uncomfortable but now that I'm here, I'm so in love with life and will be damned to go back!! I think this is LSH vibe except he's a little pessimistic, I generally think he's someone who's experienced a very extreme face of love? Like obsessions and people manipulating him etc or wanting to own him completely and he looks to me he has never had a normal relationship, so I think he avoids it because it shakes his world up. Hmm idk but I think energy pulls certain energy, it's similar to empathy's pulling narcissists. That way people who aspire to be free or crave freedom meet people with anxious attachment styles and wanting to control them. I swear I could meet the most laid back dude and he ends up getting territorial idk maybe I'm just extreme but I get suffocated super easily and I realised the traditional or "social structure" and expectancy of love, marriage and kids... is just not me. I may be open to seeing things from another light if I see or meet something/someone that can change my mind or I miraculously change my own mind. They should've gotten me before I reached self-acceptance and personal fulfilment, and now I really don't want it. So when I see energy like this I get intrigued haha 😂 especially from a celeb, I think that's why he has so many singles in love with him! I love it and I'm here for it. Sorry for this, I just like your take on things and I like talking to you. Why are you like this? A little bit like me and LSH or is there something else? Thanks and love you lots 😋🥰❤️

Hello!

Woo! That's a long ask. 😂

I'm gonna take it shorter if I may.

As for Lee Soo Hyuk, intuitively I don’t get the impression of him being aromantic or asexual. He might either have an unfortunate history when it comes to relationships or maybe he’s simply not completely ready to commit himself. Every person has their own tempo of growth when it comes to their mental and spiritual and emotional state and these can actually progress at different speeds. If one of the aspects is not quite there for a relationship, he might not want to bother with it. He might be mentally ready to pursue his career now. It’s possible this brings him the biggest satisfaction. Human beings are complex. Maybe he’s waiting for the right person to come in his way. I know I have described them roughly in the ideal partner reading but the fact is that Lee Soo Hyuk and this person might never meet in real life. Or they can meet but one of them or both are not ready for the meeting at the time and they simply pass each other. The reading described the scenario when both are prepared for the commitment. And having high standards is not bad. Honestly, I wish more people actually had higher standards these days. I also think that if Lee Soo Hyuk ever meets his special person, he might feel like he needs to impress them, not because the person would demand it but he himself might feel like he won’t deserve them unless he puts the effort in. It's a well known fact that some people are their own worst and most strict critics and I feel Lee Soo Hyuk might be that kind of a person. Demanding when it comes to others but even harder on himself.

As for me… I don’t think I’m like Lee Soo Hyuk. I mean, I’m not interested in romantic relationships but I have different reasons for it. I don’t have a bad experience with love, I have no experience with it. And it’s mostly because I never felt the urge to actually love a person or to be loved by someone. To many people it just sounds straight up sad but for me… You can’t really miss something you never had. I’m actually a pretty positive person myself, happy most of the time, cheerful, I have a good sense of humour and I have courage and a certain life drive. I don’t miss being loved. Sometimes my brain comes and tells me that something is wrong with me when I don’t feel attracted to other human beings, men or women. I think I do realise I’m not completely normal but on the other hand the fact that I’m not normal isn’t affecting me negatively. I have a friend who is a perfectionist and they are really good at what they do, competent, smart, funny, knowledgeable, and have travelled a good portion of the globe. They are single simply because they have high demands but they do crave love - to love and to be loved. And they do want to have children. And the fact they couldn’t find the one person for themselves is hurting them. In my case… I’m just really happy on my own. I never wanted to have children, I never wanted to get married. Even as a little girl I didn’t play to be a mom. The part of the brain that’s responsible for wife and mom instincts is missing in my brain. Or it’s simply assigned to something else. I don’t consider myself aromantic because I like to read romantic stories now and then. I don’t consider myself asexual because I like to read some sexy parts in books as well and you know I’m interested in these things in theory because of all those kinky readings. Maybe, and it’s a huge maybe, the internal spark of my lust could be blown into flames of passion if I met the right person. However, there are like 8 billion people in this world. I don’t really hope for it to actually happen and I’m not sad about the fact it won’t happen. It could be exciting and fun to meet such a person, I could test and turn into reality all those fantasies and ideas I have but… It’s not a condition for me to be happy in life. It would also be fun and exciting to get rid of my fear of heights so I could try to bungee jump from a waterfall in South America but that’s also not gonna happen and I’m not going to be sad about it. I hope I’m making sense here. 😁

In short - Lee Soo Hyuk has a potential to fall in love for real but if he won’t I think he’s not going to suffer greatly over it. I have close to zero potential to fall in love and I’m definitely not going to suffer over it. 😂

My intention to be short was clearly false. Sorry about that. 🤣

Also! Feel free to talk to me anytime. As you see, I get a bit wordy from time to time.

Kleo

[hafanforever]

It’s Good to Be Bad

I’ve described in previous analyses that I have a strong affinity for villains in fiction, including those by Disney. But like any fan of Disney, there are villains that I love and ones that I deeply detest with every bone in my body. So for my last analysis of the year, I will discuss my five most favorite and five least favorite Disney animated villains, though I also want to list a couple of other characters as honorable mentions to explain why I like or hate them.

The reasons I have for liking my favorite villains are simple, if not somewhat shallow, because I don’t exactly have deep reasons for liking them. Regardless of how evil, sadistic, cruel, and ruthless they are, I like them primarily because they are funny or charismatic. But it’s so much easier for me to list why I hate my least favorite villains, which is largely attributed the kinds of traits they display (most of which I cannot stand in people), their motives for being evil, and how they carry out their evil deeds while showing their evil natures.

This essay has turned into a longer one than I anticipated, so I am adding the “Keep reading” feature. Before I begin, I want to thank my dear buddy and soul sis @minervadeannabond for coming up with this title. Here is yet again another analysis of mine for you to enjoy, sis! 😁😄😉❤️

Most Favorites

Scar - Since The Lion King was the very first Disney film I ever saw in theaters as a child, and the first one I remember well from my childhood, many of my favorites Disney things come from it, including Scar being my #1 favorite Disney villain. Yes, he is a sadistic, tyrannical, narcissistic, cold-blooded murderer, but I think it is because of his cunning, smooth, elegant, charismatic nature and how pivotal he is to the story, particularly with how much he turns out to be a dark reflection of Simba, is why I love him so much. Furthermore, his song “Be Prepared” is my favorite villain song and among my favorite Disney songs of all, further showing how much The Lion King has given me Disney favorites since I was a child. 😁

Hades - Another one I remember well from my childhood, Hades is undoubtedly one of the funniest villains from the Disney animated canon. Although he is as cruel, evil, ruthless, and sadistic as any Disney villain, Hades is also so fast-talking, sleazy, sarcastic, cheeky, and hilarious that it makes it hard for me to take him seriously as a menacing villain. And while he constantly goes into fiery rages and blows his hot-headed top when furious, these help make Hades far more a comical, rather than scary, figure. Heck, when I was a kid, I always laughed, rather than got scared, whenever he unleashed one of his temper tantrums (except when he blows up at Meg with “I OWN YOU!!!”). And James Woods’s performance, especially since he ad-libbed many lines, helps make Hades such an unforgettable and memorable, if not lovable, character. So yeah, Hades’s wisecracking, talkative personality made him a memorable villain for me as a child, and I’ve loved him for it ever since. 😆😂

Ursula - Much like Hades, Ursula is sleazy, scheming, and cunning, yet wisecracking and comical at the same time. Besides her dry sense of humor, Ursula’s eccentricity, flamboyance, and elegance have always been the traits that drew me to her, and Pat Carrolll’s performance of the character is pure excellence. 😉

Maleficent - Despite being an incarnation of pure evil, including with her self-proclaimed title as The Mistress of All Evil, to me, Maleficent is by far the coolest, most badass Disney animated villain of all! 😆👍🏻 Yes, she curses Aurora with no true motive whatsoever, and she’s sadistic, ruthless, blasphemous, and murderous, but her display of her ill temper and dark magic just makes her totally awesome, most especially when she zaps her minions for their stupidity and incompetence upon learning they were only looking for a baby during their 16-year search for Aurora. 😁

Ratigan - Again, Disney has an evil, murderous, sadistic villain in Ratigan, but I love him because he is very collected, calculating, sophisticated, and charismatic, not to mention Vincent Price delivers such a great vocal performance as the character. 😉 What I also love about Ratigan is the moment when he undergoes what is known as a villainous breakdown, which is when a villain snaps and goes utterly crazy. During the film, Ratigan has some moments of losing his cool, but just as quickly manages to become calm and regain his composure. However, upon seeing Basil and Olivia escape from him inside Big Ben, along with Basil having having foiled his earlier scheme to kill the queen and take over England, Ratigan finally snaps, turning from a formal, sophisticated, composed rat to a highly feral, aggressive, savage one. It is the moment when Ratigan reveals the monster within and looks like a true rat, with an aggressive expression, hunched back, elongated claws, and running on all fours. The fact that Ratigan’s breakdown juxtaposes what kind of rat he was for the majority of the film is why his villainous breakdown is my favorite of any Disney villain.

Most Hated

Gaston - I have stated this before in “Bride and Prejudice”, but I pick Gaston as my #1 choice as my least favorite Disney animated villain. And it’s not just because of his extreme vanity, egotism, chauvinism, and arrogance, which are the very traits I hate in people, but because of his inferior, sexist, misogynistic views of women. Gaston is THE walking definition of toxic masculinity, the fictional example of the worst kind of man, the epitome of what men should NEVER be! 😡😡😡 He thinks men are the superior gender and that women are inferior to men, with their only purposes being to serve men and be their sex objects. And since I am a feminist who believes in gender equality, I dislike men who have low, sexist opinions of women, and Gaston fits the profile of what I think is the worst example of such a man. I could go on and on explaining just why I loathe this monster of a man with all my heart, but you can just read the aforementioned analysis to find out more.

Lady Tremaine - If it weren’t for Gaston being my #1 pick because of his extreme sexism and misogyny, I would pick Lady Tremaine. She comes such a close second because her motivations for abusing, oppressing, and being so cruel to Cinderella are petty and stupid, ESPECIALLY because Cinderella never even did anything to deserve such treatment from her in the first place! 😠😡 Lady Tremaine hates Cinderella and is very jealous of her purely because Cinderella so much better-looking and kinder than her own daughters and herself. So they abuse her and make her their servant to make her miserable and unattractive so that they can look better than her instead. Additionally, Lady Tremaine has a deep-rooted obsession to be above Cinderella at all costs that she resorts to lying, manipulation, trickery, and cheating in order to stay above. I particularly loathe it when she manipulates her daughters into tearing up Cinderella’s dress just so that she can appear fair and keep her word regarding her side of the bargain (she says ”if you can find something suitable to wear”, and once it’s wrecked, it’s no longer suitable) while simultaneously making sure she doesn’t have to keep her promise since she never wants Cinderella to go in the first place. All that being said, do these sound like justifiable excuses for hating a completely innocent woman? I DON’T THINK SO!!! 😡😡😡

Claude Frollo - Now if weren’t for BOTH Gaston and Lady Tremaine coming first, Claude Frollo would come on top as well! 😡😡😡 Frollo is without a doubt in my mind the most evil villain in the Disney animated canon. Unlike most Disney villains, he is COMPLETELY devoid of any likable or redeemable traits, making me have nothing but feelings of pure hatred for him. Ruthless, cruel, blasphemous, racist, and evil to his core, Frollo holds a deep-seated hatred for the gypsies and seeks to eradicate them from Paris, making him not only murderous, but genocidal, especially since he seeks to kill them simply out of his own racism, supremacy, and superiority. Throughout the years in his quest to eliminate the gypsies, Frollo murders Quasimodo’s mother by violently kicking her, causing her to fall and hit her head on the stone steps of Notre Dame, then tries to burn Esmeralda at the stake, declaring that she must be killed because she has been practicing witchcraft. After killing the mother, Frollo even attempts to drown baby Quasimodo simply because of his deformity. What makes Frollo even more evil besides doing his deeds is that he is a judge with control over the city, yet he proves himself to be corrupt and hypocritical by violating the laws to accomplish his dark, sinister deeds. Perhaps what makes Frollo the most evil villain of all is that he is in complete denial about how evil he really is. He has a delusional belief that he is a good, religious man doing God’s work by trying to purge the world of evil, when all he really does is twist his “faith” and hypocritically use it for his own evil purposes. What’s worse is that Frollo never once takes an ounce of responsibility for his crimes; he makes excuses to justify his actions, painting himself as guiltless and his victims as the only ones at fault. So with Frollo being such a blasphemous, hypocritical, racist, genocidal, murderous, corrupt judge who never believes he is doing anything wrong and always lays blame on the victims of his misdeeds, I can’t say there is a single thing about him that I like, and I’m happy he met his death in a fiery blaze! 😡🔥

Mother Gothel - A character I see as being an amalgam of Gaston, Lady Tremaine, and Frollo, the reasons why I hate all three of these villains are also found in Gothel: vanity, narcissism, oppression, mental abuse, trickery, manipulation, dishonesty, hypocrisy, and flat-out cruelty. First of all, Gothel’s vanity, narcissism, and obsession with her own beauty makes her extremely insufferable and annoying, not to mention the fact that she hoarded the flower to herself for hundreds of years just to stay alive shows how incredibly selfish and possessive she is. And due to her selfishness, she kidnaps Rapunzel, hides her in a tower, lies to her about the outside world, and continually mentally abuses, manipulates, oppresses, mocks, and belittles her just to ensure that Rapunzel will never leave the tower and the flower’s magic in her hair will keep her (Gothel) alive and young forever. On par with her narcissism, Gothel is shown to be a very spoiled, childish, immature woman who seeks to always have things her way and throws tantrums or other emotional outbursts when she doesn’t get her way or what she wants, especially the very moment she wants it. Furthermore, Gothel possesses a martyr, or victim, complex, which is shown perfectly when victimizes herself and places all the blame on Rapunzel whenever any sort of conflict befalls their lives and relationship, especially when they argue. So with all these flaws in mind, like Gaston, Lady Tremaine, and Frollo, I can’t find any good reason to like Gothel at all. “Mother Knows Best”? More like “Gothel Knows Worst”! 😠😡 

Governor Ratcliffe - I said above that I hate Gaston because of his bigoted, low views of women, and prejudice is the main reason why I hate Governor Ratcliffe. However, his prejudice is in the form of racism, the kind of bigotry that I hate the most. Ratcliffe displays this attitude towards the Native Americans, considering them savages and seeing himself as better than them all because of his race, which makes him a white supremacist. Besides his supremacy and superiority regarding his race, Ratcliffe is intensely greedy and selfish since he wants to keep any riches found for himself and believes that the Virginia land and anything he finds on it is his for the taking. In relation to his bigotry, he is also quite delusional and self-righteous, which makes him believe that any theory he has is right and he refuses to believe otherwise or listen to reason. For example, Ratcliffe dismisses Wiggins’ correct assumptions on why the Indians attacked the settlers and John’s claim that there is no gold in the lands after Pocahontas tells him this. The hatred I hold for Ratcliffe is significantly less than the other four listed here, but the reasons I gave are virtually like those I gave for Frollo, so I’m confident with Ratcliffe and his place on my list.

Bonus Mentions

Hans - Hans is a villain that I place in the middle between my most loved and most hated villains, because I love him for WHAT he is as a villain while I simultaneously hate him for WHO he is as a character. I have said it to friends and some of my other analyses before, but one of the reasons why I love Frozen is because it took many of the traditional fairy tale elements and tropes used in their preceding films, and turned them upside down. So rather than having another prince as the heroic male lead in this film, Frozen twisted that trope around by making him the villain instead. And when Hans finally reveals his true nature, you realize that he has fooled not only Anna and the other characters who interacted with him, but first-time viewers as well! So while I love Hans for being a villain who keeps his true nature under wraps for the majority of the film and almost gets away with his crimes because of it, I also hate him because of how cold, cruel, callous, ruthless, and sadistic he really is. When he reveals his true nature and explains his plan to Anna, he mocks her intelligence, naïveté, and desperation for love while explaining just how easy it was for him to deceive and manipulate her into being a pawn in his plan to take over Arendelle. Throughout the whole scene, Hans smiles wickedly and sadistically, clearly showing the delight he is getting from tormenting Anna and watching her suffer while he explains his scheme and extinguishes all light sources to accelerate her death. It’s also easy to see his sadism when he announces his plan to murder Elsa, and that he will get even greater joy out of carrying out the act itself (which we see when Hans smiles widely while swinging his sword over Elsa’s head as he tries to kill her on the fjord).

Chi-Fu - While he is not a true villain, and not even evil at all, Chi-Fu is a very detestable character, one whose guts I hate completely because he has the same traits that make me hate Gaston: arrogance, conceit, egotism, bigotry, superiority, and misogyny. Prejudice against women is a main theme in Mulan, and Chi-Fu is the one man whose prejudiced opinions never change. While Shang and Mulan’s fellow soldiers initially hold views that women are beneath men, they learn to change them after Mulan proves herself a capable warrior in the army (even after her disguise is revealed), most especially when she helps save China from Shan Yu’s reign of terror. Despite the majority of his bigotry being aimed at women, Chi-Fu is also detestable because he shows it towards nearly everyone else, except the Emperor. As the second-in-command to the Emperor, Chi-Fu sees himself superior to almost everyone else around him, which enhances his pompous, elitist, arrogant attitude. Because of all these antagonistic traits, I loathe Chi-Fu while I don’t hate Shan Yu at all, even though the latter is truly pure evil and genocidal! 😠😡 It just goes to show that some people who are neither necessarily good nor bad can be even more contemptible that the most malevolent, murderous people.

[darksapphire29]

Imagine #6

You give Peter the silent treatment while you try to accept the newly discovered truth.

Warnings: silent treatment, mentions of death, stressed Peter (ya know, this is just a recurring theme that can probably be expected in most (if not ALL) my imagines), tiny OOC Pan (but I don’t think it’s that OOC), crying?? Umm... trigger warning for ppl who are still recovering from season 3 and/or season 5?? (I AM)

Peter was scolding Adam for something when you first left your tent.

“You idiot. You never pick dreamshade without gloves. Do you have a d-death...?” He stuttered a little, losing his trail of thought at the sight of you. You looked awful.

Your skin was pale, your eyes lined with a darkness that hinted at a lack of sleep. You stumbled a little as you wandered off into the forest to gather some fruit for breakfast. You didn’t even look at him as you passed, and his stomach dropped.

All but forgetting his annoyance, he walked briskly after you. You weren’t even following any of the trails. He passed the huts and ignored the confused look Felix sent his way. All he could think about was what was wrong with you. Were you ill? Hurt? Did something happen last night? Yesterday? He didn’t know, and was determined to find out.

When he caught sight of your cloak, he ran right up to you. He grabbed your shoulder, and you stopped. You didn’t turn to look at him.

“(Y/n),” he started, walking around your body with a hesitance that caught you off guard. You had honestly expected him to be mad. When he stood in front of you, his eyes filled with concern, you found you couldn’t look at him another second, so you turned your head away from him.

Peter furrowed his brows. You were never the shy type, always standing up for yourself and speaking out against him. It was one of the both impressive and frustrating traits he loved about you.

“Why aren’t you following the trail?” He searched your face, trying to read your eyes. But just as he was about to catch them, you looked away from him. Somehow, the boring new shades of moss by his feet were more interesting than Peter. It was too peculiar for him to leave alone.

“Is something wrong?” He asked again. The (tall/short) girl before him said nothing, all too lost in her thoughts. Was this a game to him? Or did he seriously have no idea? The most obvious answer was that he was mocking you. That he found your anger towards him amusing and silly. But you wouldn’t retaliate. That was what he wanted. Instead, you walked right past him and continued on your way.

Peter felt as if you had dug out his heart and jumped on it. Twice. His confident stance faltered as he watched your back. You were acting so… different. But then again, it was unnervingly familiar. Only, the last time you had acted so demeaned by his presence was almost a hundred winters ago. When his shadow first brought you to Neverland, and you were still jumpy and untrusting from your past life. Why were you suddenly reverting back to your old self?

When you began to fade into the forest, he chased after you. Peter followed you for a while, calling your name and demanding you talk to him.

You didn’t answer his questions, completely disregarding his presence. You wished he would just leave you alone. After everything you had learnt, all the secrets that had been laid before you, you needed to be alone. You needed time to think. And you especially needed Peter to go away. But no, Peter Pan never fails, and he was more than ready to win this game. Only it wasn’t a game, and if he wanted it to be, you weren’t intending to play.

Annoyance clouded Peter’s mind, and he tried so hard not to let you anger him. So hard. But it wasn’t getting any easier.

“(Y/n), come on!” He tried, throwing up his arm and following you deep into the forest. “Where are you even going?” Luckily for the both of you, he was Peter Pan, not some Lost Boy. Because if he wasn’t literally half demon, neither of you would be able to get back.

You really didn’t know where you were going. But all that mattered right then was the distance between you and the boy who’d broken your trust. Although, deep down, you were grateful he had followed you. Otherwise, you would be completely lost.

You didn’t know how to forgive him, and by the sound of it, Peter hadn’t even realised what he’d done. You chuckled. What a narcissist. Of course, he hadn’t thought it would offend you. But you couldn’t approach him about it, or anyone, really. What a girlish thing it was, to be so hurt by such a thing. Secrets like this one were more damaging than any poison or sword. But how could he have known? This was a grown-up sort of thing, and Peter was still only a child.

“(Y/n)!” He shouted again, and you jumped, having forgotten he was even there. “I can literally feel the rage in my blood.” He threatened, but you were unfazed. Nothing could hurt more than—

“Please, don’t make me force you!” His voice cracked a little on the please. Your heart clenched. He was trying to hide his desperation, but you could sense it. You wanted so much to just turn around, hug him, tell him it wasn’t his fault.

But that would be a lie. Because it was his fault. It was entirely his fault. He should have shared all those damned thoughts with you. If only he’d opened his stupid mouth, confessed, revealed everything. Instead, he’d left you to stumble blindly in the dark. But the idiot forgot to take the oil away from the lamp, and now that you’d shed some light on your life, things would never be the same. And it was this senselessness that kept you away from him. Like two magnets of the same pole—it was all Peter’s doing.

But the most disturbing truth? Your very soul threatened to shatter at the very thought. How could he have kept such a thing from you? How could he have been so careless? You tripped on a few sticks and roots as your blood threatened to boil over with rage. Had he even spared your feelings a thought? You shook your head and quickened your pace.

Peter watched you stumble along, your hands clenching and unclenching like you didn’t want him to know they were shaking. He was near you, now, and he reached out for you again. Wanting so badly to touch you again, even for a second. But then you took longer strides, taking him off guard, and his fingers missed you completely. He growled in frustration. He’d had enough.

“Fine.” His tone darkened. Chills ran down your spine, you skin crawling with goosebumps. He had never spoken to you like that before, and it scared you to no end. “But don’t say I didn’t give you a chance!” With that, he appeared right before you, and you collided with his chest. You leapt back almost immediately, like fire to your skin. Meeting his eyes for a second, you found a hint of pain behind them. But it was replaced with frustration before you could blink.

“Why are you ignoring me?” He was so lost. So hurt. You wouldn’t even look him in the eye long enough for him to see the (e/c) in them. That beautiful (e/c) he would so often lose himself in.

Quickly, he reached for your shoulders. His hands rested there, his grip gentle but firm, not wanting you to leave him behind, again. You still didn’t speak. He missed your voice, your laugh, you eyes, your smile. It had probably been an hour, but that was already too long. He clenched his jaw.

“(Y/n), this isn’t a game. Talk to me.” As much as he didn’t want to, he was losing his patience. He spoke through gritted teeth, his hold on you tightening, his eyes set in a nasty glare. His hands were harsh on your skin, and your eyes glistened with an unholy fire. You didn’t move.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

Breathing through his nose, veins popping out of his neck, he shook you. Hard. Your hair fell over your face, and your cloak would’ve fallen off if Peter wasn’t holding it there. Tears stung at your eyes as your body was thrown around, your shoulders aching.

“TALK TO ME!!” He screamed, fuming. You nearly broke down at his anger. He stopped, but you didn’t do anything. He had hoped you would yell, scream, cry, shove him off, kick him, slap him, run away, anything! You just shivered a little under his hands, but other than that, you held yourself together. His eyes reddened, almost like he might cry, himself. “Why won’t you just look at me, at LEAST?!” A part of him was begging, but the rest of him was infuriated.

In spite of yourself, you looked up at him. Your eyes were probably swollen, your skin whiter than usual, but you hardly cared. You glared at him so hard you might’ve set him aflame.

“Well then, Pan.” You croaked, a single, hot tear falling from your eye. “I’m looking at you. I’m talking to you. I’m even bloody crying. You’ve won. Now get the hell away from me.”

He stepped back, not meaning to look cocky. He was shocked. He had won, but that wasn’t important. The look on your face was important. That angry tear was important.

“I-I—” he stuttered. What could he do? You were obviously upset with him. But why? What had he done? For a short second, he thought hard about everything he could’ve done wrong.

Nothing came to mind.

“What did I do?” It was an innocent question, but when he finished, you were so pale he feared for your life. It came out so wrong. So demeaning. Ridiculing. It sounded exactly like him, and for once, he really didn’t mean for it to sound like that. 

Your usually bright and (e/c) eyes darkened a few shades. He winced.

This was not going to end well.

“What did you do?” You laughed. It wasn’t joyous and contagious like the one he obsessed over. It was maniacal, nearly psychotic. Like his laugh. “Oh, I wonder!”

“(Y/n), please—”

“Oh, no! You don’t get to speak. It’s my turn.” You spat, waving a hand in his face. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Peter was completely taken aback. Fear placed his confusion and he worried for his own sake. So much was happening, now. Who knew what you had discovered?

He had wanted to keep his plans to himself. Everything he was doing, everything he planned to accomplish, he knew you wouldn’t approve. Even to save your own life, his life, everyone’s lives, the whole of Neverland. You would insist on finding a better way until your final breath.

“Kidnapping people? Using some girl? Taking a kid from his family and keeping him against his will?” The colour was quickly returning to your face, but even when you tanned to your normal colour, you continued to redden with every breath. He tried to get a word in, tried to explain himself. But it was no use.

“I can’t believe you, Pan!” He winced again, that familiar pain building up in his chest once more. “What happened to you? Why are you doing this? You used to be fun. You used to really care about everyone.” Your face was wet with tears, tears that wouldn’t stop, and Peter wanted nothing more than to hold you.

He remembered those days. The days where he and the Lost would just play around and joke and tease. When nothing mattered but you and him and Neverland.

But then, he remembered the day he returned to Skull Rock. The day he was reminded of his incoming doom. He knew what was coming. He knew it had to be done.

“(Y/n), please listen to me.” He started, but you weren’t finished.

“But you wanna know why I’m upset?” Peter didn’t say anything, he didn’t even nod. You were suddenly calm, and it scared him more than your angered screams.

“You told Felix you were—” A broken sob hacked at your throat, and you collapsed into Peter’s chest. Pride be damned, you were sick of this. Sick of being angry and scared and alone. You needed Peter, and when he wrapped his arms around you, that was it. You were finished. Your eyes red. Yours cheeks soaked. Your hands shaking. Your hair in more of a mess than usual. Your lips quivering. And just like that, you broke down.

Peter pulled you closer, just holding you. He didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. You knew everything, and there was no way to assure you that everything would be okay. Because he didn’t know that. And as he held you to his chest, he let out a few tears himself. In minutes you were both huddled together on the ground, dirt and leaves sticking to your clothes. You clung to one another as you cried, his hands stroking your hair while you clutched onto his shirt.

Peter shushed and soothed you, stroking your hair as cries escaped his lips.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” he croaked out between sobs. You just nodded, clutching onto his tunic and gasping out that it didn’t matter. Peter kept apologising anyway, his hair tousled, his face puffy and stained with tears that you feared would never stop.

You sat like that for a long time, your sobs filling one another’s ears and more water leaked from your eyes than you knew you had in you. Because nothing was okay, and as you sat in the dim and cold light of the sun—lost in the middle of the Neverland woods—neither of you knew if it would ever be okay again.

[backandimbamon]

part II

Damon thinks and thinks and obsesses over what happened only an hour ago, with Bonnie now resting peacefully beside him, hair curving to frame her face like a cradle. There’s a little content smile on her lips as if she hadn’t sobbed herself to sleep. Her dorm bed is hardly enough room for their two horizontal bodies so her arms are wrapped around his waist, ear pressing against his chest; she’s warm against him like a furnace.

It is almost as if she never took a bulldozer and plowed through the wall of defense she built for herself throughout the years. Like her breakdown was an illusion. Not a groan of inadequacy or dissatisfaction fell from her lips because she is sleeping now and she’s therefore okay. Mystic Falls is far away and can’t touch her in her dreams.

He never really thought about it so restlessly or even evaluated the effects that his very messy decisions can have on the circle surrounding him.

He never properly pondered the effects that it does have on the person he wears like a shield, Bonnie Shelia Bennett.

The tiny little witch with the huge heart, it is so easy for people like him-narcissists- to manipulate and bait and make expendable without a thought.

And he’s supposed to be her best friend.

Why does she have to be so selfless and caring and, and perfect? The world takes advantage of people like her and feasts on all the loving, generous, kindhearted people it can because there’s not plenty to go around. Damon knows this. Bonnie pours into them like it’s her obligation, like she has to but she doesn’t.

She doesn’t.

How could they have allowed this for so long? Without even asking if she’s okay or... sane? Thoughts of Bonnie and her well-being haunt him and it could be hours or minutes but the swarm of memories and his newfound concern whisk away the time.

He knows it’s later than he thinks when the door opens with a slow creak, announcing Caroline’s return. There’s the sound of tip toeing before she turns on her lamp switch and no, she doesn’t expect to see Damon looking like she has disturbed him or something.

He gives her an accusatory glance, noting her heels in hand the stench of dumb jock on her like an eau de parfum.

“Fun night, Blondie?”

She’s surprised to see him still there, and not pleasantly.

Damon doesn’t understand how she whispers shrilly but she manages to go into an ear-injuring tirade, scolding him about The Real World and how it isn’t the prison world because, for once, everything isn’t about him. The words seem to flow so freely and practiced that he starts to think this is no improvisation and Care Bear has had this thought on her mind for some time. She says he’s holding her best friend back and that Bonnie long left the “Damon Cubicle” when she returned home so he should stop acting like she’s the only person to exist in this world so she can do the same.

Her chest heaves after her rant and she sighs like she just released a burden. It’s not how she pictured this intervention would go, unloading like a floodgate too early or too late in the wee hours of the morning, but not even she can stick to the plan sometimes. She loves her friend too much to allow Damon stagnating her progress, her wellbeing, her life- for any longer.

“What if Bonnie just adores me and my company,” he says, mostly to annoy her.

Dogmatically Caroline replies, “Stockholm Syndrome.”

He feels a sting in there somewhere that mentally makes him go “ouch.”

“You’re just jealous Bon likes me more.” He only replies to have the last word so none of her remarks can sink in too deep. He’s had his fair share of overthinking for the night.

Damon leaves before she can come up with a rebuttal.

——

Bonnie awakens with a hangover and her hair nearly strangling her and it’s the first time that she’s noticed how fast her hair has grown. It gives her a feeling of relief because she can say good riddance to the bob she thought she’d love forever until it almost came to that. Forever.

She fingers a long, dark strand between her long, light nails and feels a quiet satisfaction amidst her pounding head.

Quickly, her memory is back and the feeling of mortification upends her self-admiration.

She spends most the morning trying to hide her moodiness about last night. It lingers in her head all day because she doesn’t do that- it’s not her. Tequila is to blame for her break in character, the sensitivity, the temperament, the peck, the bite. The bite. she violently pushes the flirty advances at Damon into the far recesses of her mind until it’s flimsier than a memory.

Damn that alcohol.

She did want to thank him for everything but he’s gone in the morning and she understands- she does. It’s not like she feels a glimmer of something tug at her heartstrings, it’s not like there’s a smudge of disappointment in the pit of her gut.

She easily loses herself in Caroline’s telling of her sex escapade from the night before, only a tiny bit envious that she doesn’t have one to share with her. But, she tells herself, she would rather have no story than one with Damon.

She laughs on queue at Caroline’s punchline.

When she’s done reliving her adventures, Caroline looks at her with an almost matriarchal love in her eyes because she is so happy to have her best friend back. Her skin is all glow-y and she looks gorgeous, really, with her long lashes and flushed cheeks. She looks alive.

She reminds her of high school Bonnie, right before she discovered her lineage. Her hair was almost as long as it is now, and she has the same fiery look in her green eyes but more complex. Caroline hasn’t seen Bonnie look so light in years- and why did she ever cut her hair to begin with?

“You look amazing, Bon,” she gushes, but there’s something about her that she can’t quite place her finger on.

She knows that look. Bonnie is the only one in their trio that has never worn that look.

It’s the face she herself wore with Klaus, the face Elena wore with Damon. The layered gaze of someone who knows something they won’t share.

She wants to know but she’ll give it some time because, she thinks, the answer may not be as hard as it seems.

——

Bonnie always thought a blind date consisted of meeting someone new; a blank slate of sort so she can decide whether or not this person is a solid addition to her life. If not, she will have her fun, receive another free meal or two, get that itch scratched if she’s brave enough, (she never is.) Beneath it all, a blind date is someone she has never seen.

Caroline’s interpretation greatly differs from hers and Bon thinks next time she asks her friend for help, they’ll communicate effectively. They’ll establish definitions so they’re both on the same page.

Stefan looks almost as shocked as she does to see her, his date, but he gives her a hug anyway and they both laugh and shake their heads in sync.

“Asking Caroline for dating advice?”

“I could say the same for you,” Stefan lifts a heavy brow.

“At first, I was thinking ‘what the hell’ but now...I’m really thinking it.”

“I almost feel insulted.”

They laugh again.

“Geez, Bonnie, am I not up to par?” she knows that he’s joking but she can’t help to think.

Is he not up to par?

Physically, Stefan is handsome in an almost classic way. Almost because something about him is surreal, maybe even sinister, and gives him a bit of an edge to an otherwise generically attractive face.

Could be his height.

Or maybe it’s the quality about him that seems like he’s drawn in smoke. So illusive Bonnie can’t describe him even when looking directly at him. His eyes are green or hazel, his hair blond or brown or somewhere in between.

The sunlight filters in bright and vivid in the Grill yet his features cling to every shadow like a small sign of caution: PRETTY BUT DEADLY. The only thing cemented is the perfect bone structure and the penetrating gaze, the full dark brows, the lips.

Stefan’s the good guy, (compared to Damon anyway.) He does have a crazy side but he’s far better at controlling it than most crazy people she knows. He’s charming. Charismatic but not in a way that’s obvious.

Perhaps she understands Caroline’s logic on this one; they’re both similar in demeanor, more or less the calm ones in most situations, they share a levelheaded nature and a mystery in which it’s hard to guess what they’re thinking.

But a romantic connection? A date? It’s a bit of a reach so she has her doubts. Plus, there’s something that makes her uneasy about the situation because she knows Damon would hate this.

Not that it matters.

The moment is prolonged between them so she tries to recover the banter. “Stefan, be real, how could you not be up to par?”

She needs polishing, she does, because she can’t recall the last time she’s been on a date. Yes, her remark is flirty but maybe it’s too forward. Or maybe she’s just overthinking.

He gives a toothless smile, all stretched lips before raising his glass and making a toast. “To pars,”

“To pars.”

Their glasses clink and the two lock eyes in the moment.

Grey. His eyes are grey.

——

They develop a deeper friendship and Stefan thinks there is something positively different about Bonnie that he can’t quite pinpoint. She even smells sweeter.

It’s remarkable how different she looks and acts because she seems so free and unbothered, and it’s not so much in her speech as it is in her behavior. He’s not even sure if she’s aware of it.

He feels this crush blossoming, the commencement of a stomach-fluttering infatuation. One that will have him journaling like an obsessive school girl. He could deny it, that gut-fluttering feeling, but he’s too self-aware. Stefan is a hopeless romantic, which can be his downfall, so he tries not to project anything on to Bonnie just yet because she could very well be uninterested. That would be devastating for him but he’s experienced worse.

How did Bonnie Bennett sneak up on him like this?

It’s only a week after that first date but this is his third time back on campus. He’s helping her study like a good friend would.

Caroline thinks the couple is a perfect demonstration of her observational skills and how thorough she is in match-making.

Damon is still very much unaware which is good because Stefan knows Damon. He won’t like this when he finds out.

He’s had his head so far away lately, Stefan notices, completely lost in his thoughts which is unlike him. Damon is starting to challenge his title for the brooding brother. Whatever is occupying his thoughts, that he’s already remotely refused to share, must be something serious.

Just as long as it keeps his focus elsewhere to prolong him from finding out about them- this. Their... friendship. Bonnie and Stefan. It has a nice ring to it.

Her nose is buried in a novel by Toni Morrison as Stefan discreetly observes her. His gaze traces the pensive expression on her face, clinging to the curve of her cheek, the tilt of her brows. Lower he drops his eyes to graze those shapely brown legs in the cutoff shorts before he returns to her face. He admires his latest discovery: the cute tension in her mouth that appears when she’s concentrating.

Bonnie is studying literature and the only subject he’s studying is her and he lets himself have this moment while she’s completely unaware so he can drink her in.

The ironic thing is that he has overlooked her so many times, never letting his mind linger on Bonnie for too long because, yes, she’s gorgeous but she’s also Elena’s friend. And Elena used to be his world. But now she isn’t and she hasn’t been for years. His eyes are opened, fully seeing the little witch for who she is, not what she can do or how many ways she can bend.

His cell phone buzzing breaks his concentration, he answers without looking at the caller identification because he knows it’s Damon.

“Yes?”

“Why are you hanging out with Bonnie, brother?” He has an edge in his voice with a tone that is all but condemning.

How could he expect Damon to do anything other than sabotage a perfect moment in its prime?

“Is there a reason I can’t?” Stefan can feel his forehead maze. For the life of him he will never understand why Damon is like this. He knew he would react this way, being jealous and possessive. For centuries his brother makes his biggest insecurity prevalent, poking and prodding to see if the people he loves the most like Stefan more than him. It’s one hell of an inferiority complex.

Bonnie’s eyes are on him now. They remind him of lily pads, offset by her golden brown skin and dark brown hair. Put a Venetian red background behind her and she’s a walking Renaissance portrait. Her eyes shift to a distance behind him and he hears steps approaching.

“Well when you’re making googly eyes at my best friend, it makes me a little sick in the stomach.”

The sound is magnified, once through the receiver, and again in real life as Damon adds himself to the study session, putting a chair between him and Bonnie like a proper third wheel.

Stefan internally groans.

He’s wearing a gray t-shirt and dark jeans that he dusts off before actually seating himself. “What’s on the agenda today, folks?” He gives a tight smile, sending a quick death glare to Stefan. “I knew when I couldn’t get in touch with Bon Bon that she must be preoccupied.”

“Funny how you didn’t take the hint,” Bonnie jokes.

“You know I’ve never been one to listen, bestie. What’s he doing here?” He gestures to Stefan like he’s just a minor inconvenience and not a living, breathing, being.

“...Really?” Stefan lets out a grave sigh.

He goes unaddressed as Damon keeps his eyes on Bonnie.

“I’m studying, and Stefan is assisting.”

“Sure about that?”

“We’re not in the mood for games, Damon. If you want to be involved, stop the interrogation and, i don’t know, be normal for once? I know it’s a bit of stretch.”

“Oh it’s a lot more than a ‘bit of a stretch’, Bon. I’m so far from normal it’s not even funny.” He props his arms behind his head and leans back in his seat.

“Damon. Why are you here?” he wants to extract him like a bad tooth.

“No, Stefan, the real question is why are you here? Last time I checked, I’m the one who gets to visit Bon Bon unannounced. That’s what friends are for. But you, you’re easily an acquaintance. Has something... changed?” There’s a peppering of accusation as he threads an eye line between Bonnie and Stefan.

She doesn’t even hear Stefan’s retort from the wave of thoughts that washes over her.

Everything about this moment is surreal. Having the first-hand experience of this ordeal feels like astral projection in which some godly thing snatched her mid-voyage and squeezed her into a shell of Elena. Only after a few minutes of bickering, Bonnie now sort of knows what it’s like to be put on a pedestal by the Salvatore brothers and she gets it. She finally understands why her sleeping friend would die for a power like this- to be loved like this.

And even angry, even at odds, the boys really are beautiful.

Elena must have felt like the world was in her palm, with two scarily attractive wrecking balls willing to destroy everything if it meant a smile on her face. She must have felt a little less human surrounded by unearthly handsome brothers who would fight for her and over her, changing everyone surrounding them for her namesake.

However, Bonnie doesn’t truly think she wants to be the host that this parasitical Salvatore thing attaches to next- simply being a bystander while it was directed to Elena left her life in ruins. She’s only just put the pieces back together, and god there were a lot.

The boys though.

They’re beautiful.

Stefan in all his chivalry, she can sense his embarrassment to be related to such a hard ass, a slight fluster in his cheek is the one indication that he’s annoyed and frustrated. His Adam’s Apple bobs when he speaks, his jaw clenches a little too forcefully when he’s quiet, defense in those stony eyes; she’s never seen tension look so good. He’s the one you conjure when you think of the perfect knight for your fairytale ending because he fits. He’s what you were dreaming for since you were six and you realized, like your dolly, you need a prince. He’s the reward the heroes get in every story, the American Dream on legs. The fight, the struggle, the blood, sweat, and tears, you trudge through it all for a taste of goodness because it’s worth it. Stefan makes it worth it.

And then there’s Damon, the pain, the asshole who really grew on her because she never thought he could have a heart until he placed her in it. He knows just how to annoy Stefan, taunting him to break character so he isn’t in this word war alone. He always gets what he wants. The one who makes everyone uncomfortable with how effortlessly he flaunts his sex appeal, how carelessly he can trap you in fantasies of him. He awakens an insatiable ache between the legs that leaves you dripping, thinking of all the things you’re forbidden to do because someone like Damon is never yours. He’s the husband of, boyfriend of, best friend of, and it’s never you. A wink from those baby blue eyes is so promising but trying to catch him is like grasping air- he’s everywhere and nowhere at all but you fucking need him.

And she’s Bonnie. Not Elena, just Bonnie.

She would be a fool to think them fighting over her is the same as them fighting over Elena because it just isn’t. With Elena, it was different. They were caught in an intricate web of love, lust, and infatuation which was undoubtedly the recipe for disaster.

With Bonnie, they aren’t in love, they’re only bickering over her friendship.

And the thing about friendship, friendship is manageable, friendship is controllable, friendship she can handle.

Elena must have felt like the god of her own world with two hellish men devoting their lives to her safety and her harm, both the protector and danger rolled into one. How it must have felt to have friends and lovers die over her to come back and die again. To have people care for her like that without doing anything harder than existing.

Her sleeping Lena had heaven on earth while she had hell on wheels and Bonnie knows a friend she made in the underworld would tell her to live it up before she died again and no one bothered to bring her back.

In a truly twisted, ironic way, she misses that friend.

What if it’s time for the scales to rebalance and the things that fell apart must unite again?

Maybe the universe has handed her the baton and it’s time to start running.

[jess-rewatches-prodigalson]

Episode 7: Q&A

Let’s just dive right into this. Spoilers are heading your way. 

1:00 - Malcolm why did you try to talk to the strange man in the dark?!?! It’s not safe you giant doofus. 

1:33 - Gil looks very annoyed and concerned here. This is a man who would ground Malcolm’s ass if he could. 

1:51 - See how Gil’s hands are on his hips? That’s exactly the position Malcolm was in when he was talking to Dani when he was high. Coincidence? I think not. Pretty sure Malcolm is subconsciously trying to imitate Gil whenever he can because Gil is Malcolm’s definition of a good man. 

2:24 - Another instance when Dani directly asks Malcolm if he’s okay. 

2:35 - Edrisa is one strange lady. She doesn’t even look mildly grossed out by the state of those bodies. 

3:53 - Check out JT’s face here. He looks somewhere halfway between annoyed with and concerned for Malcolm. Gil on the other hand is too busy trying to keep Malcolm from jumping off the deep end to be annoyed with him. 

4:25 - Does anyone else find it odd that mother and daughter are sitting so far apart on this bench? I mean, I know they’re fighting right now but still. 

5:00 - “I am far more worried now.” She should be. Ainsley is trying to out manipulate Martin. That’s concerning because a) Martin is a dangerous psychopath and b) Ainsley, to a certain degree, is exhibiting behaviour that probably reminds Jessica of Martin. 

7:00 - I’m starting to believe that Edrisa might be on the autism spectrum. She seems to have trouble reading the mood of a room. She often rambles. She is socially awkward. She talks with her hands a lot. She is very intelligent. She’s a functioning adult but many people with autism are functioning adults if they had proper support as children. Then again, it’s possible she grew up in a home with stereotypical Asian parents who forced her to study most of the day and severely limited her opportunities to socialize in a non-academic setting. 

7:11 - hahaha Gil’s face here. He’s like “Why do I like these two freaks? Why do they look borderline excited in the middle of this morbid situation?”

7:46 - I love the moment when Gil and Malcolm realize that they’re looking for a serial killer. Gil looks guilty. Like he’s blaming himself for not noticing that this murderer was loose sooner. Malcolm looks upset too but it looks like he’s more upset about the effect this is having on Gil than he is about the fact that there’s a serial killer on the loose. Both of my boys need a hug. 

8:23 - They are waaayyy too lovey-dovey inside of Ainsley’s serial killer father’s prison cell. Like did they forget that they’re inside of a psychiatric facility for murderers?!? 

9:00 - The fact that this interaction between Tevin and Ainsley is possible annoys me. I know it was necessary to forward the plot BUT why would two different secure doors be randomly wide open when a guard is moving a dangerous prisoner through the halls? I’m sure those doors are legally required to be heavy enough to close by themselves if no one props them open for safety reasons. (Just my small annoyance. Carry on.)

10:00 - hahaha I love JT. He clearly cares about Malcolm but he also doesn’t know what to say to a dude who is so manic and troubled.

10:22 - I love Dani going on a rant. It’s really sweet. It’s almost as if she knew that if she went on a rant Malcolm would be able to calm down and focus. Look at Malcolm’s reaction to her rant. He immediately calms down and tries to comfort Dani. He refocuses on the case. They are really good for each other’s mental health. They ground each other and I’m so grateful that they’re in each other’s lives.

11:05 - If Edrisa is technically part of the team - why doesn’t she just walk into the room? Why does she wave through the window to get Malcolm’s attention?

11:51 - We have reached a tipping point in Malcolm’s mental health. He just willingly admitted that he’s not okay. Someone sound the alarms. This will not end well. Our boy is going off the deep end....but at least he’s self aware? 

12:00 - The first part of this interview (before Malcolm shows up) is hard to watch. It hurts to watch Martin twist everything into a positive about himself. It hurts to watch Ainsley try to twist everything in the opposite direction. These characters are more similar than I’d like to admit. They’re both obsessed with their outward appearance to the world. They’re obsessed with their own success. They’re driven by ambition. Sure, Ainsley is capable of empathy, and I don’t think she’d ever kill anyone but she’s definitely narcissistic. More so than Malcolm, whose isn’t narcissistic so much as he is obsessed with finding out the truth. More so than Jessica, who really just wants to be less lonely since the world abandoned her twenty years ago. 

13:20 - This is a really interesting point that Martin brings up. He’s technically mentally ill. Does he deserve sympathy for it? I mean, he killed people. I have anxiety disorders and chronic depression. I have a bipolar uncle. A narcissistic grandmother diagnosed with manic depression with psychotic elements (actually, in a lot of ways my grandmother is like Martin Whitly). I understand mental illness. But the second that someone kills another person...that’s where my sympathy ends. At that point I don’t care if you’re mentally ill - you took someone else’s life for pleasure. You shouldn’t be getting fancy therapy and an all-expenses paid trip to a psychiatric hospital. You should be getting the electric chair. (Sorry if this is getting political - I’m generally against the death penalty but psychopathic serial killers and child abusers are the exception to my stance).

13:38 - The darkest of nights?!?! Martin you are making me so angry right now. You sleep like a baby. You have no conscience. That’s literally the definition of a psychopath. You have no dark nights. Your son on the other hand. UGH. 

14:10 - *sigh* look at this. He’s making everything about him. In doing so he’s actually belittling his daughter and her career choice. What kind of a loving father does that?

15:44 - This little moment when Ainsley tells Malcolm that she’s staying is concerning to me. She is so desperate to find her father’s affectionate side that she watches her brother interact with him. She genuinely believes that she is the least favourite child.

16:30 - In this scene Martin says he’s never been to the Bronx. But by the end of this episode we find out that Martin briefly worked at St. Edwards Hospital in the Bronx. Just more proof that Martin is a liar. I don’t know what else to tell you. 

17:10 - Look at that face. That is a man who doesn’t care about his son. That is a man who will say anything to keep Malcolm in the room. To play with Malcolm’s head. That is not a father. That is a monster. Look at how sad Malcolm looks by the end of this interaction. How upset. How scared. He is genuinely starting to believe that he might’ve helped his Dad hurt someone. 

18:56 - Ainsley’s excitement to walk back into that room is concerning. There is ambition and there is obsession. She is obsessed. It isn’t healthy. 

19:25 - “I’d like to discuss one more. Malcolm.” This scene absolutely shatters my heart. For multiple reasons. a) Ainsley just put her career before her brother. She is intentionally starting a conversation that she knows will upset her brother (in front of her brother) because she believes that it will get the results she needs. This is one of the reasons I believe Ainsley is the Whitly child most similar to Martin. AND b) look at Malcolm’s reactions. He is utterly heartbroken. He feels betrayed by his sister. Embarrassed that his father knows about his diagnoses. Embarrassed that this discussion about his mental health is being filmed for television. He looks so sad and defeated here. I just want to hug him. AND FINALLY c) Martin is incapable of even acknowledging that his action have had any sort of negative impact on Malcolm. 

20:15 - And there he is. The most honest form of Martin Whitly. Angry. Explosive. Violent. Things aren’t going his way and that’s unacceptable to him.

20:53 - Another moment that annoys me about this episode. How convenient is it that the alarm starts going off JUST as Martin finishes his little outburst? It’s just timed a little too coincidentally. I know I know. It’s necessary for the plot and the time constraint of the episode. 

21:24 - Look at that. Three people concerned about your shaky handed boy. My heart is full. 

22:18 - Ainsley and Malcolm laughing over their Mom’s phone calls is cute. BUT I feel like Malcolm should be a little more upset with Ainsley right now. I know they’re in a lockdown situation and he probably doesn’t want to fight with her in case that something bad happens to one of them but still. Siblings fight. She treated him poorly. He should be mad at her right now. Malcolm’s acting like nothing happened.

23:55 - Martin is the worst. He really refuses to answer his children’s relevant questions until the camera is rolling. Ugh. Mr. David is not getting paid enough to deal with this family.

25:40 - It’s absolutely disgusting that Martin is so unconcerned when both of this children are in danger, in his presence. Also can someone please explain to me why there was a crow bar in the camera equipment bag? Like for real? That’s not a thing I can see Claremont security approving to enter a serial killer’s cell.

27:00 - It’s not often that I believe that Malcolm is the most rational person in the room (excluding Mr. David of course) but Ainsley and Martin are positively crazy in this scene. Ainsley is desperate and scared but Martin is manipulating her. At least Malcolm has enough common sense to keep a knife away from a serial killer. 

28:34 - The flashback. Martin is holding Malcolm’s hands, guiding the knife. Did Malcolm fight his father before this moment? Was Malcolm drugged into submission? I really need to know more about this. Malcolm looks terrified in the flashback though - he definitely didn’t take the knife willingly.

29:00 - Look at Malcolm’s face. That is pure terror. That is internal conflict. He wants to help his sister. He would do anything for her because he’s her big brother and big brothers are protective. BUT he’s also terrified of giving his father a knife. AND he’s terrified of the flashback that he just had. Look at Malcolm’s face when Martin takes the scalpel. Holy crap. That boy is not sleeping tonight.

31:02 - Another instance where I really don’t support Ainsley. Video tapping the un-consented surgery (yes it was an emergency, I know) performed by a serial killer on her boyfriend. Like. Dude. No. So not appropriate. But she’s doing it a) to try and earn her father’s love and attention and b) she thinks the story will help her career. It’s all about her. And that scares me. 

32:45 - JT and Dani look concerned again. They’re like “What’s the dumbass going to do now?”

33:00 - I love this scene. Gil and Jessica. This conversation is sweet, and intimate in a way that only people with a shared concern can be. How many conversations do you think they’ve had over the years about Malcolm and Ainsley? They’re both worried about their kids. It’s precious and I love it. Also - another example of how Jessica’s heart is in the right place. She really does love her children. 

35:15 - New York Direct News?!? I thought Ainsley worked for American Direct News? Did Malcolm purposely use a different network name? 

35:55 - Is Malcolm giving that look to Ainsley or Martin? I can’t tell. 

37:40 - I feel you Jessica. I feel you girl. He’s playing with both of your children’s hearts now. You are justified in being livid.

38:18 - Concerned Papa Gil for the win! :) <3 

39:24 - I’m really glad that Malcolm is at least aware that his father is playing with he and Ainsley.

40:55 - I love how this episode ends. A rare, intimate moment between Malcolm and his mother. A softer side of Jessica we rarely see, comforting her upset son. Followed by a confused, terrified and equally vulnerable side of Jessica going to the basement.

Dang. This one got long. Sorry. Thanks for hanging out. I’ll post again soon. 

[mysterious-messengers]

her idol - friend fic for jaehee and zen

-this version of the idol au is of my own creation, if you would like to see more please check out my account!-

TL;DR Jaehee learns how to respect Zen as an equal rather than a perfect being.

Jaehee has been a fan of Zen’s for a long time, whether it was following his group switches or watching as he improved. It was almost saesang behavior (saesang are obsessive fans who will do anything in there power to get attention from there idol) though she made sure to respect Zen’s boundaries and of course to never get overly obsessive. He was one of her inspirations to learn to dance, and its actually what got her the opportunity to train under C&R. So to learn that her one true idol was going to be in the same group as her made her heart race with anticipation. What would she say? Would she thank him for everything? Would that be weird as a co-member? Jaehee was in the training room sitting on the floor drinking water lost in her thoughts until it was interrupted.

“Hey you’re Jaehee right?- ah sorry should I call you Kang?” an all too familiar male voice said.

“I- no you can call me Jaehee!” She said as she spun around, overflowing with anxiety.

“Ah! Okay Jaehee, you can call me Zen. I just wanted to ask if you were a dancer or vocalist, and also how you were?” 

“Oh I’m doing great actually, I love your work- oh and I’m the main dancer.” She said with a small awkward ‘heh’ afterwords.

“Well then~ you must be very talented! I might want to take some pointers from you” Zen responded a chuckle afterwords. “And I appreciate knowing that you’ve seen my previous works. I hope I’ve improved from where I began.”

Jaehee’s eyes sparkled and a wide smile appeared on her face “You really have! You’ve made your style more expressive and unique in your way of dancing- and especially in your voice! I think you could even make it as an actor!” 

“Wow, Jaehee that is really nice of you to say!- though you don’t have to view me on such a high pedestal, I get that I’m talented among a wide regard but while i am great I’m still human. While I do see my self as a mistake made by god, since I am that handsome.” 

Zen said with a striking a subtle pose “I am still human. I still make mistakes sometimes, as much as I hate it. I did some bad things when I was a kid, bad enough to get involved with the law. So I’m not perfect as a human being, and I’d like you to see me as an equal. We will be on a team after all, you’re free to keep watching my old work but just know you can be as talented as I am in regards to dancing.” he said finishing it off with a smile finally taking a breath.

Jaehee was in some form of shock. Her idolization of Zen had made her forget that he too, had feelings, problems and a past. She was quite disappointing in herself actually. Believing that Zen was the perfect being was preposterous, no one could be, no matter how hard they tried or seemed. The only reason she viewed and respected him so highly is because he had helped her through some of her toughest times looking for a suitable job and bringing her happiness when she was down, inspiring her in every way shape and form to do better because she could be better.

“I’m... I’m so sorry Zen... I just looked up to you for so long and I guess forgot that you were human too...” she bowed her head in both shame and apology. She felt a hand pushing her chin upwards, and looked up to see a smile of appreciation.

“Thank you for apologizing, though there was no need to as I saw it. Here how about this- how about we go to a coffee shop and just talk? So we can become friends, and maybe to show you I’m not all that perfect- as fabulous as I am~” 

“That actually sounds nice... thank you Zen. Thank you for everything.”

------

Jaehee and Zen became great friends after that, talking about there views of other groups, their music, what they could do better on and just having fun talking about music. They also learned how to work together along with the other members of the group. 

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

Woooah!! I actually made a finished piece! Fun fact I started writing this fic on a whim at 3am last night. I really wanted to make something with Zenny since I haven’t had any content regarding him on here, so I decided to make Jaehee and Zen’s first interaction! Since I wanted to make Zen a tiny bit different, he still is narcissistic but due to interactions with obsessive fans he didn’t want to portray himself as the perfect human being and show that he has some flaws too as much as he hates them. 

Anyway I hope you enjoy!~ This was really fun to write! <3

[hcrror]

✨💌 self promo time: reply with five of your favorite creations and pass this on to some of your favorite creators! Thank you for making such lovely things 💌

thank you so much roxy!!! I have more than five favorites (that sounds kinda narcissistic but I am proud of some of the edits I make lolol) but i’m gonna name ones I don’t really gush about often.

my recent oliver marks edit: who saw this coming? me, I did. this style of editing of mine is my favorite to do idk why but I love it. I used my remus lupin edit as inspo sfdghsdjk. THIS EDIT THOUGH, despite it being my kin character, TOOK ME A WEEK TO FINISH!!! it was sitting in my drafts and- the coloring just drove me insane. I don’t use psds so I kept having to desaturate and saturate and mess with the temperature. in the end it looks.....muted and brown...but I hope it’s not too shgkjd not appealing to look at?? I love the edit, I do, it’s my baby oliver how could I not?? I battled with if the fancast was good for it because the way the text sits on his face felt weird to me at first, but it turned out ok.

my cassian edit: this one I was so worried about doing because finding a fancast for cassian was hard. however, I decided to do it in the style of my remus lupin edit so I only had to find one photo lolol. I went with a cabin in the woods vibe because he is an illyrian and he does his training in camps and in the woods. I was frustrated because I couldn’t find a wing picture that I liked to show he was illyrian but that last panel with the bird in the background is a nice touch. cassian is one of my favorite characters and this was an edit I spent several hours on and expected to flop but it didn’t. I really do like it and I’m glad others do also.

my slytherin house edit: so I am a slytherin and I just one day felt like making a hogwarts house aesthetic edit. the coloring for this is a muted dark green with minty green accents with the text. I love the vibe of the edit which is very much dark academia. my favorite quote in the welcome message on pottermore is the caption: “Now there are a few things you should know about Slytherin - and a few you should forget...” I am more slytherin than what people think but I think I am also a mix of hufflepuff and slytherin. idk jfgshdjg I am rambling but this is my beloved hp house edit and I love it a lot.

this tessa gray edit: I love this more than the past tessa gray edit i’ve done. I got the inspiration from my friend iniya’s (@daji) annabeth chase edit which is stunning. I loved how I placed the “do not seek revenge and call it justice” quote with the line in between. this one was just so easy to put together and I didn’t really need much feedback on it because I was/am proud of it.

this hadestown typo edit: you can thank coco (@laststop) for getting me obsessed with this musical. I now have a multifandom sideblog themed after hadestown. making edits of musicals is what i’m still figuring out how to do, but for this one I just decided to do a typography edit. I chose the song “flowers” and did a contrast between the lyric “dreams are sweet, until they’re not” one photo being in color, the other being in b&w. I had an exact idea of what font to use which coco provided me with. and this turned out really pretty. I love it a lot and I plan to make another hadestown edit soon.

I ramble too much sfjkshjf

[lizzybeth1986]

Quick Thoughts on TRFTP Book 1 Chapter 17

• I'm...not even sure what's happening anymore or whether this team is trolling us for expecting better from them. This chapter was shit. As has been this book.

• If you don't want to see these posts, here are the tags to block: #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs, #long post.

• I spent three days doing literally anything else but replaying it coz the writing for this one was so poor from the get-go, focuses on anything but the important stuff when we're two chapters away from the finale and uses Maxwell to retcon two moments from last book that they'd already bungled up in the grossest way possible.

• Ngl they also made Maxwell sound like a self-centered jerk this chapter. The one time they actually made him the focus, they make him into a narcissistic individual who thinks that just because he's friends with all these influential people he gets creative liberty over personal stuff that happened to them, without even fucking consulting them on it. I'm sure the book reading was meant to be funny but there was so much cringe going on that I wound up thoroughly disliking him this chapter (sorry Maxwell stans). Like this was me the entire time:

• Screenshots:

Hana: The Abhirio YouTube channel

Drake: @thefirstcourtesan and the HIMEME YouTube channel

Maxwell: The rash rec YouTube channel

• Title: Hot Off the Press

Alternative Title: High on All Existing Levels of Cringe.

• The first few dialogues obviously change slightly if you're married to Maxwell. He's a little more contrite about not telling the MC earlier about the book tour:

• My MC is as surprised as I am that we didn't go to Castelserraillian instead, since that place is a hotbed of art and culture (I'm also noticing that the writers have been avoiding mentioning Kiara's estate by name since this book began. It's always called "Kiara's estate" now). But no apparently it's because the Lythikos people have no taste, as we're soon about to find out.

• The MC can't stay too long, since the Last Apple Ball, which is supposed to be the final appearance a mother of the royal heir makes before they deliver, is coming soon.

• Maxwell promised the bookstore...that his friends - who are actual people he has written about in this book and who haven't read it yet - will do a live-reading alongside him...again, without consulting them. O boy. This is going to be fun.

•

I have three points to make about this one:

1. If this book wouldn't exist without any of us then why the hell is YOUR face on the cover of MY goddamned story?

2. LMAO @ Maxwell acting like Liam's only strength is his title when:

a. He's the only one among you all who has a job (not applicable for Hana since she doesn't have a paying job but still works her butt off more than the other two do)

b. Liam threw an entire human being over his fucking shoulder. Like if that's not "actual strength" I don't know what is.

• It's more fun to make Olivia guess when you reach her estate. She either guesses that you're having your baby, that Liam is declaring Lythikos the capital of Cordonia, Drake fell into a vat of whiskey or Hana wants her to lead a self-defence seminar for the noblewomen. Maxwell for some reason isn't even mentioned.

• In any case, we arrive at Olivia's keep/lodge, where she's busy fussing over us.

• I liked the fact that you could do a callback to our first Lythikos Ball in Book 1, mentioning "cold lobsterless bisque". And Olivia doesn't pretend to forget it either, reiterating that she enjoyed besting the MC at her first visit there.

• First Kiara, now Hana. Both ladies make sure Olivia doesn't go ahead with giving us gifts related to "self-defense" 😅

• She does, however, have a special gift in store, this time for our nursery. Paintings for the walls. The royal options mostly showcase golden crowns and a castle, while the rustic options display forest animals. You don't get a free option here, pretty much like you don't get one for the crib mobiles. I think there's one element left in the nursery - the soft toy (one of which is a lion).

• Maxwell then offers to have Olivia there for the reading as well, considering the book's popularity in Lythikos and the fact that she is their Duchess. Olivia tries to get out of it, telling us that she has "duchess things" to do.

• I love whatever little we get of Liam and Olivia's friendship in this series. When the writing actually bothers to acknowledge them as childhood pals it shines. Like the bit where Olivia tries to get out of the reading by citing "duchess things" and Liam grins and tells her that he "can always tell when [she's] lying". Or this little bit right here:

• The MC gets to ask about Liam's investigation on what happened to his mother, which he cites as 'ongoing'. Yknow, we would have had more time to investigate that if the writers didn't shoehorn so many chapters into the Texas section. I can understand a mystery spilling over to the next book, but the reason for that spillover being the writers spending too much time on irrelevant bullshit? Can't relate.

• Following this, Olivia agrees to come for the reading, tells the group which rooms are allowed to them and leaves, and the LI tells the MC about their plans to take her out on a final-date-before-childbirth to a resort in the mountains. This is supposed to be our last LI scene for this book.

• It's a short and fairly meh scene, mostly rehashing the LI parenting issues they currently have and filled with some of the same imbalances we spotted way back in Chapter 4 (the LI scene where the couple sneaked off from the ball where we were hosting Auvernal and Monterisso). It's on a smaller scale here, but the imbalances still exist.

• The scene has two sections, the helicopter scene and the resort scene. The helicopter sequence deals with (except in Drake's case) the LI and their worries over how good a spouse and parent they will be, and the resort sequence is mostly a sex scene with no lingerie of the MC's in sight because they felt too lazy to code a pregnant MC minus clothes. In Drake's case, the serious issues revolving around family get spoken about at the resort rather than the helicopter.

Liam: Is extremely protective, maybe even obsessively so. Discovering his mother was pregnant when she died plays a huge part in his worries about the MC and his child now, as does the fact that growing up without her was hard on him, and that's an experience he doesn't want their child to go through.

Hana: Comes with a sweet story about her mother. The helicopter sequence begins with their child having a "kick party" in the womb, and Hana singing a lullaby that her mother used to sing while they spent time on the piano. Hana speaks of this as being a bedtime routine that her mother made, and how nighttime was the only time of day when Lorelai would pay any attention to Hana. Hana wants to be more involved, more present for her child, essentially the mother Lorelai never truly was to her - while still maintaining that there were moments she was happy with Lorelai.

Maxwell: I honestly expected this scene to have Maxwell speak about Bartie Sr or his mother in some capacity...but they didn't even bother to go that route. Instead they show Maxwell initially overthinking and fretting in his care for the MC, before the MC calms him down by quizzing him over his childcare knowledge so he can see for himself just how prepared he is. Like the pregnancy announcement before it, this scene seems to have been the perfect place to come up with something poignant for Maxwell, except they didn't even bother.

Drake: The helicopter sequence is shorter, but features Drake suggesting to the MC that they could "camp in the mountains". However, his resort scene post sex is the more detailed one, and tackles two issues: his need to be constantly tough and protective, and his memories of his father. In the first the MC tells him it's okay if he's not tough all the time, and he reiterates that especially with the MC and their child he feels like he needs to be...and he speaks about how his father - amazing though he was - often had to toe a thin line between his job (guarding the royal family) and his family (he mentions Jackson guarding Constantine, Liam and Regina...which means that he was around when Constantine had his third marriage as well??).

It's not AS bad as the Chapter 4 "sneaking away" scene during the ball in Valtoria...but as you can see, the same problem still exists. They're trying not to be too obvious about it, but the problem still exists.

• Okay so now it's time for this book reading...and Bastien is our driver and our security detail today. O boy.

• Maxwell is nervous, but the group (specifically Hana) reassure him that the crowd can't be too large considering the venue is a bookstore. Turns out...they're wrong. There's hundreds.

• Everyone except Olivia got nicknames (Liam the Benevolent, Hana the Just, Maxwell the Glorious, Drake the Bold). We get to choose ours (Unstoppable, Magnificent, Sexy). In addition, Drake has become a meme, considering people are holding up "THINGS ARE GREAT" signs close to 8-9 months after he was quoted on that (the ultimate irony, that this quote gains popularity among the actual commoners who have to face tax problems, so very unlike Drake who lives griping and moaning in a fucking palace).

• (also didn't Drake read the book earlier. I recall he mentioned as much in Chapter 5. Why didn't he warn his other friends or mention how terribly written this story was?)

• The rest of it...is ridiculous. I mean sure this can be read as a joke, as funny, as entertaining, but even that is a bit of a stretch and sounds more like we're making excuses for Maxwell's writing of his own friends.

• So the reading itself is divided into sections where the group takes turns to read the bits they were a part of, and where Maxwell aggressively rewrote what they said and did without once bothering to consult them. This includes very personal stuff, and he had no way of knowing if they would like the revisions he made. Like this is something I would expect of a trashy, money-grabbing biographer, not someone who is supposed to be a close friend of these people.

• Olivia hasn't read this book yet and she has no qualms saying that to people, which is kinda cool. I'm guessing Lythikos people normally don't like reading.

• Maxwell begins with the masquerade ball:

Yeah dude you knew I was in over my head yet didn't bother to guide me properly all of the social season. Hana Lee had to save your ass a couple times. The other LIs were running around doing your goddamn job. That you will not mention in this fancy-schmancy book of yours!

• In this revised version of the Masque, Drake thirsts over the MC immediately (damn, Lady MC cleans up good) and Hana is made to sound like a pompous ass (at last, someone who can match my beauty) and Liam is, well, ridiculous. Revised Liam name-drops House Beaumont and Maxwell when complimenting the MC. None of the LIs are very happy with this book as they proceed reading, and the MC can choose to either agree and they plan to have some words with him later (which will never happen) or pretend it's okay.

I don't mind the revision in this particular scene really. Like the masque itself and Liam's turning down of Madeleine later are not that serious, so exploring it lightheartedly is okay. It's when he gives the same treatment to serious shit that happened to his friends that bothers me.

• The next section to be read is Liam dumping "Madeleine the Mean" (LMAO). Nothing much really.

• The best part is of course the LIs repeating their marriage proposals from memory:

This right here is probably the reason why that book sold at all. Or possibly because Cordonians don't have a lot of good taste in books. Who knows.

• The other best part is the MC refusing to give the assassins proper "assassin noises" during her reading.

• So...up until now you've gotten only tiny glimpses of how self-centered Maxwell's book is. It has his goddamn face on the cover. This guy gave the actual protagonist's origin story nothing more than a page while dedicating an entire chapter to a "playlist" for saving the kingdom. But this...this is on another level. He has Liam name-drop House Beaumont and himself during the Masque. In Drake's playthrough he has Drake worry only about him. During Drake's duel he has both Drake and Liam say this shit:

...did Barthelemy Beaumont ghostwrite this book. Coz he sounds more like Bartie Sr here than he does the old Maxwell. The old Maxwell was often clueless but not really THIS obnoxiously self-centered!

• Like first of all, Drake was doing that duel for himself? He did it because Neville was constantly insulting him? This had very little to do with the MC (unless she was marrying Drake) and definitely nothing to do with Maxwell yet somehow his book is written as if he is the be-all and end-all of this group?

• Also, bringing the MC to Cordonia as a suitor because Liam had feelings for her was perhaps the only thing that indicates Maxwell even considers Liam a good friend? (and even then his House needing to sponsor someone was a big factor too) Liam barely features as a "BFF" otherwise, Maxwell keeps placing Drake in that role more?? I heard Liam speak more about Maxwell (and in terms that acknowledge his unique gifts too, like the hotel room scene in Shanghai and the scene where he talks about his friends before the proposal - both are in Book 2).

Like Maxwell doesn't even once worry or ask after Liam once the MC turns him down for Maxwell in his playthrough (not even when he overhears Madeleine baiting Liam in his playthrough. Even then there's no reaction) and just in this chapter he apparently found no other strength in Liam besides the man's title...and somehow I'm supposed to suddenly believe that Maxwell had trouble choosing between the two of them as BFFs, which got resolved over fake dialogues??

• Then of course comes the worst part of this whole trainwreck:

I'm pretty certain a lot of people will excuse this as Maxwell rewriting these events out of kindness...but the truth is, both of these things are extremely personal, in some ways painful experiences for both Liam and Hana, and Maxwell shouldn't have been assuming what they would be comfortable with without even speaking to them first. He's lucky the two took it as positively as they did, but they shouldn't have been required to.

• What really stings about the use of these two sequences is that these were exactly both things the writers themselves never bothered to explore properly. The Lorelai confrontational was the weakest possible end to her arc...and having Maxwell shoehorn Drake and Liam into this moment in his book doesn't exactly make that any better, PB. And then...to have Maxwell put words in Constantine's mouth when he probably knows jackshit about the man? For something the writers never allowed Liam himself to talk much about? Fuck off.

• Also, I notice that Drake's duel is a default passage for the reading, but you're made to choose between Liam's and Hana's important crisis points. And Maxwell doesn't even have one obviously because TRR Book 3 spent too much time on BertVannah. Plus he doesn't deserve his own passage if he's so busy inserting himself in everyone else's story.

• Olivia's passage about defeating Anton is also a default passage, and perhaps the only thing written accurately in that entire trashfire.

• I will happily never want to hear about this book again, and I would rather Maxwell never wrote another book again either.

• There is a diamond option that features a Q&A, which Maxwell didn't prepare for (obviously). If we convince him, these are the questions the public will ask:

- Is the MC comfortable being Olivia's sidekick. The MC has options ranging from gushing about her, to dubbing them both equals, to calling Olivia her sidekick - and in all three cases she cuts off your mic 😂

- For Olivia, little Valerie asks what she should do to become like our resident Scarlet Duchess. Suffice to say Olivia's answers are...concerning to the girl's mother 😅

- For the MC, Cordonian Woman asks how she got to courage to escape Anton. The MC can either mention she had Olivia with her, mention the LI or take all the credit.

- The next question is to Maxwell, about a possible sequel for the book. This is when the writers of TRH have to admit how full of shit their book is: uh, let's see. There was a honeymoon. We went to a ranch for a long time. Er...baby shower?

- For the MC, if there is anything she would change about her wedding. (they didn't include "I deserved better lingerie earlier" as an option and that's a travesty).

- Peter Graves is now a Cordonian dude who is curious about how Olivia fell for Anton's trap, and she mentions his guard baiting her by mentioning that Liam was in trouble, so the book still wants Olivia to have her lingering feelings towards Liam. I can't imagine why the writers would keep drilling this point in if they're not going to do a damn thing about it.

- All in all, not exactly worth the money.

• Once we finish signing a few books, we're on our way back when we're nearly-trampled by the paparazzi.

• Samir of Them Magazine esp outs himself as an asshole and so does the dude in sunglasses.

• Ana de Luca is nowhere to be found here, and Donnie seems to be the only respectable journalist, asking the rest to give the MC some space. I'm guessing they're mostly making the distinction between "respectable, trustworthy press" (CBC and Trend), and tabloid press like Them and the other paps.

• Dude in sunglasses mentions that his source is paying triple rates for any photos of the MC...which is another in a huuuge pile of really suspicious paparazzi stuff that's been happening this chapter that EVERYONE has been too stupid to explore further so far.

• I can see why the ensuing car chase reminds people so much of Diana. The paparazzi don't give up chasing the MC, there's an overall sense of panic about this sequence and the crash does hark back a little to that devastating news. Except in this case, it's going to be a temporary scare, seeing as we are still in our pregnant sprite for the finale Apple Ball gown which I think means we won't be going into labour until that is over.

• @thefirstcourtesan also mentioned to me that the crash reminded her of an episode from Gossip Girl.

• What I think might happen is that the baby, MC and LIs may make it out of this fairly okay, but there will be widespread condemnation of the tabloid press and possibly laws implemented to limit this scale and level of access. Orrr everyone will simply glower and do nothing since the writers don't allow any of these people to possess any common sense anymore 🙄

• So possibly, there may be some focus on the safety of the mother and child, and on the fallout the press has to face as a result of this incident. We still have one last item (the toy) to feature in our nursery so I think that might happen this chapter too.

• 2 chapters until the finale, and Hana still hasn't gotten her own scenes. Neither flashback nor individual. Somehow they deemed it appropriate to give Olivia those by midpoint!

• Also, interesting how the one time Maxwell gets much attention in this book, they decide to do him badly. First they don't put any effort into his diamond scene, then they write him so. damn. badly. Does Maxwell have his flaws? Sure he does. But they did him so dirty this chapter and made him so ridiculously self-centered that it stopped becoming funny after a point, at least for me.

• This book has been such a load of nothing I can't even tell you. Like at least in the previous books threads would either begin to be tied up or they would give you a clear idea of what would be up next. TRH 1 is getting over in two weeks and the most important thing was dealt with only once and spoken of in an offhand manner only twice. At this rate there are all these threads that haven't even begun to be tied up. And sure, this stuff could get more in the forefront in Book 2...but it's been poorly written and poorly paced so far. That's what you get for forcing us all to play some version or other of the Drake route, unfortunately.

• I'll be off to Kerala until November, guys, so the last two chapters may not get a QT anytime soon (range is pretty awful there), and the same goes for TRM, unfortunately. If I'm able to, I'll try doing chapter reviews for TRM, but I'm not sure how that will pan out, or if I'll be able to catch up enough. I'll try.

• As for TRH...I honestly don't know. Writing for this one hasn't been a very pleasant experience, and I don't have high hopes at all for the next book in the series.

Perhaps by the time the second book or the holiday feature is out I might change my mind but for now...I don't know.

• Until November (or hopefully before that, if a miracle happens and I get good range in my parents' place) then, guys!

[proxylynn]

Lynchtale: File Name Game of Death #6

Chapter 6: Like any realm, there are many layers of unknowns.

WARNING: THIS IS A MATURE STORY THAT WILL HAVE BLOOD, GORE, PSYCHOLOGICAL SURVIVAL HORROR, HEAVY CURSING, AND LIKELY SEXUAL THEMES/BONING. I DO NOT OWN UNDERTALE, THAT BELONGS TO LORD TOBY FOX. I DO NOT OWN DEAD BY DAYLIGHT, THAT BELONGS TO BEHAVIOUR DIGITAL INC.. I DON'T OWN THE AU'S THAT SOME OF THE CHARACTERS COME FROM, THEY BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIVE CREATORS. I NOW OWN THE IDEA FOR LYNCHTALE, WHICH USED TO BELONG TO PUNNYSIDEUP (AKA. SANSFULPUNS). I ALSO OWN MY SELF-INSERT OC ANOMALY LYNSIE AND A LOVE OF FAN PARODY. IF YOU'RE STILL READING THIS, THEN CONGRATULATIONS ON EITHER BEING ONE WITH STRONG DETERMINATION OR AN ENDLESS WILL TO OVERCOME THE CHALLENGE OF STOMACHING WHAT I HAVE IN MIND. EITHER WAY, IF YOU LIKE THIS AND/OR MY OTHER CONTENT. SIT BACK AND ENJOY THE ETERNAL PUNISHMENT. HAVE FUN SINNERS. ^_^

[SOMEWHERE IN THE ENTITY...THE ARCHIVES OF THE OBSERVER]

(Arcus 01)

I would start at the beginning, but I don't know when that was or how long ago I was banished to this prison. What I know is I've been observing and studying the inner workings of this Entity that had once been...well...an obsession. How ironic that I should be sentenced to live out the rest of my days in the very thing I sought to destroy. An obsession turned prison...as all obsessions are, I suppose.

(Arcus 54)

The atmosphere of the realms is dark and grim to say the least but also...ever changing. I've already remarked that the atmosphere is misty even foggy at times and that this fog feels alive. It seems to contain swirls and streams of memories or imprints of beings from multiple terra worlds. It is as if The Entity absorbs all the psychic energy and thoughts of beings it snatches as it journeys through the endless cosmos.

I've used the Auris to study the black fog and have come to three observations that will prove invaluable to finding a way home. First, the fog is rich in Auric particles leading me to believe this dimension is more conscious than it is material. Second, I should be able to manifest anything I am able to pull from rifts in the fog using techniques passed down from my family. Third…The Entity is far more ancient than we ever suspected back home and most of our theories and conjectures were wrong. The rich presence of Auric particles and cells suggests it is one of the Original Ones—an Ancient.

(Arcus 129)

A knock at the door and an invitation attached to a bottle of whiskey waiting for me at the foot of the door. I kneeled to inspect the invitation. "You are cordially invited to The Entity's Birthday". The Entity has a birthday? Am I losing my mind...my grip on reality...whatever that actually means here...Is this some kind of a prank by a marooned soul?

(Arcus 142)

The Entity is the cosmic embodiment of evil. Back home we witnessed how its very presence turns worlds inside out...how it seems to remove or extinguish any sense of empathy or compassion within communities...how it brings people to the brink of madness and...well...pushes them in. Now I understand it does all this in order to rip victims from their lives and have them play out an endless trial of terror that it presumably needs for its own survival. And there, perhaps, lies the key to its destruction...if an Ancient can be destroyed at all.

End the trials. Destroy its ability to sap dark nectar from victims like a cruel parasite feeding from a flower. At least the Archives affords me a better understanding of the Entity...why it moves from universe to universe, picking victims off and devouring worlds as though at a cosmic buffet. What I have yet to conclude is whether it is attracted to worlds that are brimming with darkness and madness or if it is in fact the catalyst of such darkness and madness.

(Arcus 182)

I have discovered structures within the realms of The Entity that remind me of home. It is possible others from Terra Primus have found themselves marooned within The Entity. These Survivors could have with them knowledge to free me from this tower and possibly ideas on how to escape this infernal dimension. As far as I know...we were one of the first of the many worlds to begin unraveling these great cosmic mysteries and proving that planets and solar systems were...well...alive. These discoveries led to entire paradigm shifts that unlocked for us our ability to travel from dimension to dimension. Where once we thought our knowledge was absolute...these discoveries showed us how little we actually knew about the world.

(Arcus 223)

I felt an uncanny and unseen presence in The Archives as I contemplated The Entity. I could hear the labored breathing of Killers standing outside my prison. I looked out into the dark, raging Fog and saw nothing...Either The Entity is aware of my presence and is preparing to send Killers to put an end to my plans...or the memories of Survivors are somehow merging with my personal memories and these sounds are mere side effects of overusing the Auris. In the end, it doesn't matter. If I could end The Entity I would even if it meant my own demise. My life is little to pay for the salvation of the worlds it will destroy.

(Arcus 293)

Things could have been worse. I could have been banished in a dimension without Auric Fog containing the memory imprints of countless victims, memories that keep me entertained and busy with my coin and spirit collections...and the music...the variations from parallel worlds...it helps pass the time. In a twisted way I think what I'm admitting is that I'm glad The Entity takes what it wants when it wants from the omniverse.

(Arcus 328)

There is a curiosity at the core of every thinking person. A need for knowledge from uncharted and unknowable territories, but what is discovered in those blank spaces of the abyss...of the cosmos are things far too immense to understand. Things better left unobserved lest they undermine our sanity. Better to embrace ignorance than face the truth of our insignificance in the grand scheme of it all. Against the vastness of the infinite we are mere microbes swirling in an endless, indifferent cosmic stew. I say stew...but The Entity is probably more of a blood pudding.

(Arcus 345)

I have recently wondered if Survivors realize the titanic significance of their thoughts and feelings, and of how The Entity uses them to furnish the trials. Thoughts and feelings that bring me glimpses of what it's like to have lived on a parallel world as someone else. It helps pass the time.

(Arcus 437)

I'm going to have a couple shots of whiskey from Terra 917, experience a few Memories, then head to bed. The warmth of spirits from 917 have always had a way of lulling me away. While it is true this is a cruel fate...an even crueler fate would have been to have been imprisoned here without the Auris...without the ability to manifest and create and enjoy. It feels strange as this may seem as the nexus of creation...able to travel Memories and cull from those Memories without restraint. Helps pass the time. Definitely helps pass the time.

(Arcus 557)

All planes of existence are a unique mix of conscious Auric particles and material particles. The Entity is almost certainly pure consciousness...The observable fact of existence is the material world responds to and changes with consciousness...collective consciousness is the key...The body, the home, the trial—all of it is an expression of The Entity's unconscious need for fear and terror.

The distinct observation in the specimens chosen by The Entity is that they all come from worlds that have failed to understand the metaphysical relationship between their thoughts and the world they live in. This is not by chance. It is, to my mind, self-preservation. Victims who know this truth and have honed their ability to manifest could be poisonous to The Entity. This leads me to believe The Entity is attracted to dark worlds because darkness and chaos are clear indicators that inhabitants have failed to connect the dots between the collective consciousness and the health of their world. The conclusion, then, might be that The Entity feeds off ignorance.

(Arcus 571)

Gut-wrenching shrieks echoing through the Fog disturbed my sleep. I woke up, put on some slacks, clambered to the roof with some whiskey, and hit golf balls into the abyss. There's something about hitting iron and wood into oblivion that's calming, even therapeutic. I must have hit a thousand golf balls before the yelling and screaming finally subsided and I called it a night.

(Arcus 572)

Someone left a bucket of golf balls at my door with a note: Best Balls Ever! Upon further inspection I realized they were hardened eyeballs. Fossilized eyeballs collected no doubt throughout the lost Realms. I didn't realize eyeballs could be fossilized or that they make, dare I say, decent golf balls. I actually wouldn't mind another bucket. This must be a gift from my mysterious friend.

(Arcus 632)

Through a rift I believe I culled another memory of Vigo manifesting reality within The Entity with something reminiscent of the Auris. How he came to understand the machinations of The Fog is both puzzling and inspiring. It suggests to me that perhaps this place enhances one's connections to our infinite selves throughout the omniverse.

(Arcus 723)

I pity Dwight. It's as though every action he takes brings the opposite of what he intends. Trying to help his fellow employees from an abuser he ends up shutting down the entire operation, leaving many in a far worse situation than they ever were in. Granted, spiking a narcissist's drink and watching him unravel was worth the price of admission. The many memories of Survivors struggling with narcissists have led me to the conclusion that there are only three possibilities when relating to a narcissist. Enable them. Run away from them. Or...destroy them. But beware, narcissists take everyone with them when they go down.

(Arcus 731)

Hard to tell when one day ends and another begins. The tower and the library help me cope, but it's hard to forget the truth of my situation even for a moment knowing everything I have is a lie. I have access to anything I want and yet I have nothing. The survivors continue to undergo the trials with the most brutal of killers. I continue to search the fog for the memories of those who found a way to escape. It sometimes feels like a futile search. But then again...I've got time on my hands...lots of time...

(Arcus 767)

The Auris was little understood back home, and to be fair I wasn't given the chance to explain its merits to the council. Had they taken the time to understand they would have realized that though I had no verifiable explanation for how the Auris works...I had theories, and the most reasonable was that the Auris works on the basis of the Trinitarian — the Trinitarian of Creation — a concept long held by our ancestors and forgotten throughout the ages. But the concept isn't complicated, isn't witchcraft, isn't a secret. It simply suggests that it takes two things to create a third. A father and a mother to create a child. An idea and passion to create something new, something real, something lasting and meaningful. A thought and feeling. Therein lies the best theory of the Auris and how it is able to create with Auric particles.

The failing of other pioneers back home is they believed thought alone was enough when in reality it is only half the equation...the other half is emotion, for it is feeling and passion that fuels the fires of creation. The Auris amplifies and manifests and forges something new using the mold of thought and the fires of passion. Or...I've been here too long and I'm grasping at theories to pass the time.

(Arcus 789)

Emotion. Passion. Interest. They are the spark, the undefinable force that enables creation. You cannot manifest anything if you are not filled with emotion about it. The Auris was ridiculed because the council lacked understanding. This might be the whiskey ruminating but...art is not created by thought alone but by thought and feeling working in harmony. Feeling is everything...Feeling is the most important aspect of bringing anything to life. It is the fuel that makes thought and intention reality.

(Arcus 893)

Several Survivors went mad trying to escape the trial. They had with them memories of previous incarnations so that one Survivor began dashing his head against a wall convinced he was reliving a nightmare he had just escaped. The other Survivors drowned him in mud to shut him up. It seems to me Survivors are torches growing dimmer and dimmer with every trial. Some stop to feel altogether and are doomed to The Void. Others go raving mad and need to be silenced by others.

(Arcus 968)

Strange, luminous markings left in the Trials for Survivors and Killers that help me navigate and study Rifts with greater ease. Someone is trying to reach out to me. Tampering with The Entity. Using tricks to secure my attention. To let me know I'm not alone. To let me know I'm not the only one able to manifest within The Entity. Yet the knowledge of living dimensions and Ancients is knowledge few have developed among the infinite Terra worlds within the known galaxies.

(Arcus 1032)

Jumbled experiences of brutal Killers and weird rituals of godless brutes from worlds too dark to care. I jerked myself straight out of one memory that pulled me into a cavern of bodies with an odor so repugnant I was retching for hours. I still have that horrible taste in my mouth and shudder at the thought of that smell, that horrible smell, rotting humanity. What foul creature of a man had made this festering hole his lair is beyond me.

(Arcus 1043)

I look and observe the realms of The Entity with eyes that see disharmony, chaos, fear, and terror... and yet I acknowledge I may be swayed by appearances and that there may be another truth beyond the veil and it feels futile if not absurd to try to put to words what I am seeing.

(Arcus 1118)

There's nothing like silence to drive you mad. I stared out into the endless ocean of Black Fog surrounding me and quickly realized how incredibly small and insignificant we are. Dread and despair soon overtook me and I began to realize how arrogant we were back home to try to define and describe these living cosmic entities. We thought we had figured most out. We barely scratched the surface.

(Arcus 1256)

Discovered new memories of Trapper which shed some light on his descent. The question I am asking myself is: Did The Entity begin to corrupt him before he was snatched for the Trials or was all that anger and bloodlust a result of his harsh upbringing? Either way I would not expect him to comply with another authority figure even if that figure was an Old One.

(Arcus 1513)

I have used the Auris to explore the memories of an unknown survivor who comes from a world where, from what I can gather, a cult for The Entity exists. It's not a surprise or the first time I've seen such a thing, but the memories suggest she was a detective of sorts trying to prevent a cult sacrifice before she was snatched for the trials. I'm not sure what happened to her and will have to explore the fog to unravel more.

(Arcus 1672)

I have culled imprints of a killer I have yet to observe. My best guess, judging by the nature of the crimes, is this brute is from Terra Dark. She lured men with love, robbed them of their savings, and fed them to her pigs. Lovely. Efficient. And resourceful. The impressions of the memory are as follows...

...He stands framed in the doorway with flowers. A stupid smile on his dumb face. He has no sense that his days are numbered. Lonely soul made the trip for a wife. He thinks he'll get everything for a ring. Her land. Her farm. Her savings. Won't happen. Won't go as planned. Not as he planned, anyway. It didn't for all the other lonely souls who answered her classified ad. She peers at his eyes and thrills at his ignorance. His long, dumb face. His false sense of superiority. He wrote her a poem. How sweet. She'll cram it down his throat when he's convulsing on the floor. She takes his poem and asks about his money. He has it with him. Packed his savings in a bag and made the journey for a new start. He'll get more than he bargained for. Way more. To the bank with his money. To the pigs with him.

(Arcus 2903)

I rose early to experience a few deaths in The Archives I recently captured from The Rift. I had some milk from Terra 728. I listened to a radio show from Terra 232. Horror stories and tales of terror. I read a new version of Dante's Inferno from... I'm not sure where...I thought of home, had some whiskey, and slept for what felt like an eternity.

(Arcus 3212)

From a window I see something moving with an uncanny light. Through the black fog it shines there, beckoning me. And yet, I cannot leave. I cannot move. I can only bring things to me through the Auris. What light is this? Is it a creature sent by The Entity? Is it a survivor? Or perhaps it's a marooned soul from back home searching like myself for a way back. An unnatural wind whines and I stare at the moving, hypnotic light, a hideous watching eye, trying to reach out to me, trying to tell me something, trying to convey something in its strange, rhythmic movement.

(Arcus 4902)

Life is not life in this prison, and death is not an escape. It is merely the start of a new trial and most survivors are aware they are caught in something they will never understand. Why this is all happening is no longer obvious to me. The truth is...I don't know what to believe anymore...The Entity is...not what it is...or what I thought it was...

(Arcus 7294)

I woke up soaked in blood with no recollection of what transpired the night before. The blood dripped off my nose and chin. I felt my forehead and scalp to discover a deep, stinging gash. Accident? Self-inflicted? Nightmares of The Fog? Creatures of the abyss? I didn't know. Later by the bed I discovered a purple mound of flesh and gore. I cleaned the slop and tossed it out the window into the abyss from which it had come.

(Arcus 7456)

I am taking notes under incredible mental strain. I have had flashes of Survivor memories overrun my senses all day, and I am trying to focus on home and gather myself. I haven't used the Auris for some time and yet I have been pulled in and out of these lives randomly. These records... these archives will, I imagine, help me remember myself, should the Auris nudge me into the abyss.

(Arcus 7547)

Whiskey deep into the night. A strange aftertaste...a flavor from a world which makes the best whiskey. Whiskey dreams are some of the most pleasurable. Dreams of home, with friends and family, enjoying time lost. When my senses returned, I realized I had turned my palace of a prison upside down. I remembered none of it. Everything, a drunken blur. So many paintings and statues I had created from memories from other worlds...shattered...I'm losing my grip on reality and maybe that's a good thing. One day merges into the next and I'm lost in a storm of whiskey, screams, and endless streams of broken memories.

(Arcus 8876)

It's always entertaining to watch a Survivor try to escape with a femoral artery lacerated. Some victims actually get quite far before shock and cardiac arrest overwhelm them. They fight and struggle for life as if death were final. Perhaps this is the reason The Entity wipes the slate clean with every resurrection. The unwavering belief that death is real gives weight and gravitas to the trial... to the experience. Otherwise Survivors won't care. Wouldn't run. Wouldn't feel. The fear of death is the pulse of life and believing death is real gives emotion to the experience. It, in other words, feeds The Entity.

(Arcus 9082)

Hillbilly has quite an arm. A farmer made his way out of a barn and with one well-aimed blow with a spade, his head was severed from his shoulders, and two spouts of hot blood burst from his body like geysers. Hillbilly watched the headless man stagger stupidly and collapse in a growing puddle of steaming blood. I have to admit I've gone through this memory more than once. It's one of my favorites. I find Hillbilly disturbingly amusing and the illusion of death fascinating...at a distance.

(Arcus 9873)

King has this way of doing things that are quite amusing. One of my favorite memories I return to time and time again whenever I need a lift is Memory 2332 - Gasoline Man: King grabs this man who skipped a few payments on a loan. He drags him by the hair and throws him in an alley. He grabs a metal gasoline container and douses the 'sod' with its contents and lights a match. He stares at him through the flickering flame as the man screams in terror. He watches him beg for his life. Then he flings the match. The man's eyes pop out of his head as the flame hits his chest and falls to the floor with a sizzle. King tells him to make his payment or next time he'll use real gasoline. Brilliant.

(Arcus ??????)

A new tome of memories has appeared in my library. This one full of blurred pages and faded images. It will take quite some work to clear the fog for these to make some semblance sense. The newer parts that are clear tell of a Survivor I hadn't seen before. Such a strange woman. The Entity is rather active with her unlike the others. Even going so far as to taint her into being a monster. I pity this woman. It is one thing to have always been a monster...it's entirely different being forced to be one. Still...I will admit to being intrigued by her situation. For this is the first time there is a soul stuck between the two sides. I should get started soon. I want to see how she ended up like this. I want to know how she handles it. How she manages to deal with the monsters...and with the Entity itself. I just pray that I can keep myself sane long enough to find these things out.

[ELSEWHERE IN THE FOG]

We've been walking for some time now.

After a less than jolly wake up I've been restrained by Chops' weapon's chain, my arms locked behind me with the safe end while the other stabby end is in his hand, and he's been dragging me into the fog ever since. Before, however, Legion reminded my dumbass what we were doing...going to visit the Doctor to check out my weird soul. Seeing that guy once, even while not in a trial, was enough to make me less than willing to go to him or his realm, hence the chaining. Chops having to be in control of the body to keep me on this makeshift leash means the others aren't around. The shades of the Bones, Boo, and Dead Eye lagged behind us the further away we went from the chalet until they faded altogether once we pasted the border of the realm.

Now we wonder about the fog. A killer leading a reluctant dog to a kennel of death. Needless to say, I don't make things easy for him.

"quit draggin' your feet!"

A hard yank has me trying to resist spinning to the ground like a drunken jackass.

"Or what? You'll kill me? Big freaking deal."

Being a smartass earns me some comeuppance in a speedy punch to the gut.

"disrespect me and i'll give ya one hell of a bad time. got that, meat?"

I want to vomit but there's nothing in me to puke up.

"now, come on..."

He starts walking and a small tug has me following on instinct.

"we're almost there."

"*coughs* Are guys even sure he'll be helpful? He could just take me and dick you over."

He growls.

"ya think we can't handle that quack?"

"I didn't say that. I'm just saying we shouldn't just show all the cards we're holding right away."

"it's not like we got much choice. ya don't wanna go to the void, do ya?"

I shiver.

"yeah, didn't think so."

"Still...I don't trust this."

"good..."

I look at him funny.

"keep on your toes. especially around the quack."

There's that odd tone like how Bones had when he mentioned the Doctor. I got a feeling they had a bad experience with him before. Our ceaseless wondering continues. My mind begins to make shapes in the swirls of fog, heh, reminds me of my youth seeing things in the smoke at church...Wow, I'm fucked up. Either way, imaging things keeps my brain steady. Helps me forget the reality I'm in for a while. It's been my coping mechanism for god knows how long. And once I'm in it for long it gets pretty hard to be drawn out. Though...I'm not far gone enough to not notice this faint sound. It's soft. Almost...Almost like humming? Looking around shows nothing. Nothing except me...and him. Can it be...?

Being a curious yet cautious punk, I move in close behind him and...music? A dark and depressing mix of power ballads and gloomy melodies.

"The hell...?"

With my hands not a usable option, I bite the end of his hoody's hood and pull it back. The exposure of his skull angrily surprises him yet not as much as I am to see earbuds in the acoustic meatus of his head. When did he do this? Was I that distracted?

"the fuck ya doin'?!"

"Dude, you have tunes?"

He takes one out to better hear me.

"what?"

"How long have you been holding out on me? Do you know how boring this silence is?"

He chuckles while putting the bud back in.

"why else ya think i've got this on?"

He attempts putting his hood back on but I annoyingly hit his shoulder with my head.

"bitch!"

"Share!"

"fuck you!"

"I'll leave you alone if you do."

He glares.

"or i can kick the shit out of ya and not."

I scoot in front of him.

"Dude, come on...Do you really think it'll be that easy?"

His glare intensifies. I give a hopeful smirk with a small shrug. His response is to yank the chain and grab my face while my body went on "keep steady in one place" mode like a moron. His distal phalanx tips dig into my cheeks like the claws of a pissed-off cat.

"*harsh* i ain't like bones. i ain't gonna treat ya with kid gloves. piss me off, i'll beat ya to an inch of your pathetic life. the only thing stoppin' me is how much i don't want to drag your half-dead ass to léry's."

Léry's Memorial Institute...another realm the Entity told me of.

A research facility should be a place where minds grow, where learning happens. But the Léry Memorial Institute is quite the opposite. It's a place where the human brain is turned into something unpleasant and broken. Nestled in a sleepy woods three miles south of Michaelstown, Illinois, the Léry Memorial Institute started its life out as a hospital specializing in the rehabilitation of GI's returning from the Korean War. The mansion built in the late 1800s and its massive lot were donated by the previous owner to be transformed into a medical facility. As an army hospital, it always fell under different laws and rules to other hospitals and in 1967, it effectively became a front for the CIA. Under the Stewardship of Otto Stamper, the old army patients were shipped out and a huge fence erected around the property. Around this time, the public was refused access to the patients and the whole place was shrouded in secrecy. By 1970, the Institute was fully transformed into a CIA black site with special requirements to develop cutting-edge interrogation techniques and they employed a wide range of different doctors and specialists to help them. The Institute thrived through the 70's growing to a staff of hundreds, filling the main hospital, and several out-buildings. Documents and evidence about the Institute are scarce as the government condemned the entire building in 1983, even razing most of the building to the ground in what seemed to be planned explosive demolition. Even now, the events that lead to the closing of the Institute and what happened to the staff and patients is shrouded in controversy and mystery. Snippets of information in heavily redacted documents tell the story of some kind of incident or event, but even the most tenacious reporters have failed to unearth any real evidence of conspiracy or wrongdoing. You can still see what remains of the shell of the main hospital facility, standing defiant against the ruins that surround it on what is still US Military land.

"now take this as your only warning. i ain't playin' games."

He sinks the digits in more, adding pain into the threat to drive the message home. The effect he wants from me is submission. My real reaction...A blank expression of indifference. Why give in to him? Fear? So what. Fear means nothing when death is nothing. Sure there's pain but whatever to that.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're kinda cute when being tough?"

Honestly, this was better than what my brain wanted to say. He, however, didn't take this as a compliment and promptly uses that weapon to cram it deep into my side at an angle to scrap down my hip. Needless to say this gets a better response for him to take and my roar of pain gets muffled by his tightening grip.

"don't fuck with me, bitch! unless...ya don't want me to let ya heal? ya do want to be able to do that...don't ya?"

The feel of steel on bone makes it hard not to whimper while nodding.

"then you're gonna behave...right?"

He twists the blade. Seriously, is that signature Legion move? My wincing is high and nodding fast.

"prove it."

This confuses me.

"let's play a game..."

He yanks the blade out. If it wasn't for his hold I would've jerked to the ground.

"if you can do one little thing...i'll let ya be free."

His smug slyness is too obnoxious to miss while he lets my face go. Giving me creepy feelings.

"And what might that be, sir nice guy all of a sudden?"

He stares off, either thinking or listening to the others in his head.

"first a set of rules...ya can only obey instructions and ya must do everything i say. ya can't do anything unless i give ya the okay. ya can't speak unless spoken to. and ya gotta keep eye contact unless i say."

Creep levels are growing.

"do ya have the balls to agree?"

I sigh. I'm slowly bleeding out, what choice do I have?

"Sure. If it makes things easier."

His sharp-toothed smirk is sending chills of regret through me.

"good...on your knees."

I can't help the "I fucking called it" face and groan.

"Dude...Really?"

He backhands me fairly hard.

"i said, on your knees!"

I spit some blood out and hate my life more than I already do as I slowly do as commanded.

"smart girl."

He puts the bloody blade in my face which is conveniently at hip level for him.

"ya made me dirty my blade. be a good kitten and clean it for me...slowly."

I grimace at the obvious pseudo-sex act he wants me to do. The only upside is I don't mind the taste of my own blood. So, with much resentment for everything, I slowly lick the weapon. Being mindful of the very sharp slightly nicked blade.

"slower. really give it a fine shine."

I huff through my nose while really dragging my tongue along the metal. It helps to think of it as a weird popsicle. At least this can't last much longer...I hope.

"not bad, kitten. looks very nice. but..."

He kneels, taking a harsh grip of my hair and taps the tip of the blade on my lips.

"i think it needs a final deep wash. open your mouth."

This can go horrible real fast, yet I hesitantly open up. The look he gives, lidded sockets and licking his teeth with a red gel-like tongue...The fuck? I have so many questions! Either way, my creepy meter is maxed out and broken.

"don't move. we wouldn't want to make it dirty again."

He seems to like this control as evident by the meticulous way he inserts the murder weapon and tests just how far he can get it to go before something happens then pulling it out methodically slow, only to repeat it all over again. Feeling all sorts of uncomfortable my ability to look at him reaches its limits. This turns his building desire into a rage and his pulling of my hair borders on scalp ripping.

"look at me!"

The snap makes me jump, nearly stabbing the back of my throat but I do as told. Like the bitch I am.

"don't ya fuckin' look away from me. got that?"

I nod very very very carefully. Seeing I've lost my dignity, which is understandable with this shit going on, his domination lust kicks back in to do some overly prolonged and humiliating oral knife play with awkward staring. The longer this goes on the more carnal he looks. His breathing, how the fuck a skeleton breathes I know not, is getting labored and a tinge shaky. The grip of my hair lessens to light kneading. And the sounds that leave him...It's so dirty. I want this to stop. I feel like just ending this by slamming myself on the damn thing! Until, thankfully, he finally gets his jollies and removes the weapon with a long drag across my tongue...only to then lick it himself much to my disgust.

All this over wanting to listen to his music?!

"mmmm...that was fun, kitten. good job."

Glad you're happy while I'm kneeling in the growing pool of my life juice...jackass.

"Mew."

His pleasure flips quickly to normal edgy jerk.

"ya had to ruin it."

"Sorry."

Why the fuck did I apologize?!

My automatic apology impulse does seem to do some good by not making him forget the reward for playing his game. A small bit of fiddling around my back ends with the chain going slack and my hands becoming free.

"i was gonna make ya sweat for a bit, but then ya would've probably bled out and ya know my feelin's about dealin' with ya like that."

Once more, a member of the Legion has upheld to their word to me instead of pulling that "I lied" bullshit most schmucks would do. And once more, this has an effect on me and how I look at Legion.

"Thank you."

I begin to rub the wound and seal the damage while he sets his weapon back into its normal state.

"don't thank me. just hurry up."

Even if that was a dick thing to say, it was a nice dick thing to say. I will remember that.

With my wound healed and blood no longer draining into the fog, I stand yet feel off. Probably the emotional scarring of him humiliating me. But there's no time for that. So I bottle it up like all my other negative shit. I'm sure it won't be affecting me in any way now. Most likely I'll cry about it later but for we have a mission to complete.

As if nothing has happened we walk once more, side by side. And again he listens to whatever music he has. He ignores me for the most part which makes listening to the faint tunes a bit easier. Suddenly...I recognize the song that kicks in...Nirvana: Heart-Shaped Box. Must resist...Would he even...Fuck it! Not like it matter.

"♪She eyes me like a Pisces when I am weak. I've been locked inside your heart-shaped box for weeks. I've been drawn into your magnet tar pit trap. I wish I could eat your cancer when you turn black. Hey! Wait! I've got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice. Hey! Wait! I've got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice. Hey! Wait! I've got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice...your advice...♫"

I pause when I notice the beat is gone. I look out the corner of my eye and don't see him. Turning my head shows he stopped a bit back and is looking at me oddly.

"Uh..."

"ya know this song?"

I rub the back of my head.

"Only when the song plays. I'm not good at recalling lyrics alone."

He's slow to approach and I'm unsure when he messes with something in his pocket. But then I hear the song again.

"♪Meat-eating orchids forgive no one just yet. Cut myself on angel hair and baby's breath. Broken hymen of your Highness, I'm left back. Throw down your umbilical noose so I can climb right back. Hey! Wait! I've got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice. Hey! Wait! I've got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice. Hey! Wait! I've got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice...your advice...♫"

As the music jams solo he smirks and returns to trekking the fog, grateful I'm not butchering the song. Not to be left alone I follow and keep enjoying the music.

"♪She eyes me like a Pisces when I am weak. I've been locked inside your heart-shaped box for weeks. I've been drawn into your magnet tar pit trap. I wish I could eat your cancer when you turn black. Hey! Wait! I've got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice. Hey! Wait! I've got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice. Hey! Wait! I've got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice...your advice...your advice...your advice...♫"

I don't think he minds indulging my karaoke, not while the real thing blares in his skull and I maintain similar pitch to make it hard to distinguish. He probably likes that I'm not being such a pain in the ass while distracted like this. And distracted I am as we continue. The only thing that breaks me from my song and shameful weak dance is the random feel of something tapping my skin. The feel of cold accompanies the tingles. Slowly this oddity becomes clear...snow.

A large gate, the ones that humans must escape in, comes into view as the snow blows into the fog. This is the entrance leading to the building that is Léry's Memorial Institute. The cold is fitting here. Like an unseen bait. The cold lures you towards the false shelter where no good can be found.

The old building we find has it's doors open, inviting the foolish inside. A scientific center of some sort, full of discarded equipment. Some I recognized, other items are new to me. It does have that been abandoned feel to it, the kind that tricks you into letting your guard down. I don't question how the Entity manages to bring places like this here, there's no point to that kind of thought anymore. I have to put my curiosity on hold for now. There is danger in this place and I can't afford to be enchanted now. Inside are small areas like waiting rooms and resection desks, but also traces of something dark. As we tread the halls, beds that probably did not hold free people are scattered about. Corridors lack the warmth that comes from normal care facilities. I feel most uneased. Its maze-like features might trap me for good if Chops wasn't guiding me. What kind of shit went down here? Do I even want to know the reason why there are jail-like bars housing the area we're headed? Probably not.

This place hums with power. Electricity is everywhere and dirty tools are found laying around. This facility screams of a place where all methods are acceptable, go or bad. Whether the "subject" is alive after the procedure is not important. If these walls could talk all you would hear are screams and tearful waling. A passing glance of one room shines the smallest semblance of peace, some sort of library or study houses normal furniture along with numerous amounts of books. Nothing else remembers all those who lost their minds and their lives in there better than archives. Nothing...except the one who is called Doctor.

Pass the bars of no return leads to a noisy circled area. A medical viewing theater with massive electricity generators, holding chairs, tool cabinets, multiple large monitors playing random static images hang from the center, and viewing stations above. Every nerve I have is on alert. Get the fuck out of here, is what my brain tells me, but my body refuses to obey. Chops can feel my nervous deer energy and clutches my arm, it helps ground me better than trusting my legs to not book it.

"🕈☜☹☹ 🕈☜☹☹ 🕈☜☹☹📬📬📬" (WELL WELL WELL...)

I had forgotten the Doctors voice, it tends to happen with only one meeting, even if it's rumbling with dark authority. But his intimidating presence is something I'll never forget as he effortlessly strides into here. The fusion of sparking wires integrated into his bones, the painful contortion of his face to the point his skull is cracking, even his professional attire looks like he wants to bring pain not healing. He's creepy as creepy can be.

"✌☞❄☜☼ ❄☟☜ ❄☟☜✌❄✋👍💧 ✡⚐🕆 🏱🕆☹☹☜👎📪 ✋🕯💣 💧🕆☼🏱☼✋💧☜👎 ✡⚐🕆 🕈⚐🕆☹👎 ☺🕆💧❄ 🕈✌☹😐 ✋☠❄⚐ ❄☟☜ ☟☜✌☼❄ ⚐☞ 💣✡ ☼☜✌☹💣📬 ✌☠👎 🕈✋❄☟ ❄☟☜ ☟🕆💣✌☠ ☠⚐ ☹☜💧💧✍ ☜✞☜☼ ❄☟☜ ✋☠❄☼✋☝🕆✋☠☝ ⚐☠☜ ✡⚐🕆 👌⚐✡💧 ✌☼☜📬" (AFTER THE THEATICS YOU PULLED, I'M SURPRISED YOU WOULD JUST WALK INTO THE HEART OF MY REALM. AND WITH THE HUMAN NO LESS? EVER THE INTRIGUING ONE YOU BOYS ARE.)

Chops' grip on my arm tightens and for good reason. Be it a gift, or a curse...The Entity has ignited a corrupted and inexhaustible spark in The Doctor’s heart which allows him to generate electro-convulsive power at will. His insidious treatment corrupts the minds of those it touches. Victims shocked by the corrupt spark begin to lose their grip on reality and, with repeated exposure, inevitably succumb to madness. I have difficulty keeping my sanity as it is. This is a monster that toys with it for fun.

"we ain't here for your high and mighty bull, ya quack. so knock off the schtick."

Chops' take no shit attitude makes the Doctor sneer.

"❄✡🏱✋👍✌☹ ⚐☞ ✌ ✡⚐🕆❄☟ ❄☟✋☠😐✋☠☝ ❄☟☜✡ 👍✌☠ ☺🕆💧❄ 👎☜💣✌☠👎 ❄☟✋☠☝💧 ✌☠👎 ☝☜❄ ✋❄ 👌☜👍✌🕆💧☜ ✋❄ ☞✋❄💧 ❄☟☜✋☼ ☠☜☜👎💧📬 ✡⚐🕆 👍⚐💣☜ ✋☠❄⚐ 💣✡ ☟⚐💣☜📪 🕆☠✋☠✞✋❄☜👎📪 ✌☠👎 👌☜☹✋☜✞☜ ✡⚐🕆 ✌☼☜ ☜☠❄✋❄☹☜👎📬📬📬🕈☟✡✍ 🏱☹☜✌💧☜📪 ☜☠☹✋☝☟❄☜☠ 💣☜📪 ✡⚐🕆 👍⚐👍😐✡ ☹✋❄❄☹☜ 💧☟✋❄📬" (TYPICAL OF A YOUTH THINKING THEY CAN JUST DEMAND THINGS AND GET IT BECAUSE IT FITS THEIR NEEDS. YOU COME INTO MY HOME, UNINVITED, AND BELIEVE YOU ARE ENTITLED...WHY? PLEASE, ENLIGHTEN ME, YOU COCKY LITTLE SHIT.)

Wow, this is awkwardly giving me TV high school drama flashbacks.

"this..."

I'm pulled more into view.

"ya said ya wanted to understand what makes her tick? well now's as good a time as any."

A look comes to the Doctor's eyes. A gleam I don't like.

"👎⚐ 🕆☠👎☜☼💧❄✌☠👎 ✋☞ ✋ 👎⚐🕆👌❄ ✡⚐🕆🕯☼☜ ⚐☞☞☜☼✋☠☝ 💣☜ ❄☟✋💧 ⚐🏱🏱⚐☼❄🕆☠✋❄✡ ☞⚐☼ ☼☜✌💧⚐☠💧 ❄☟✌❄ ✌☼☜☠🕯❄ ❄⚐ 💧✌❄✋💧☞✡ 💣✡ ⚐🕈☠ ☠☜☜👎💧📬" (DO UNDERSTAND IF I DOUBT YOU'RE OFFERING ME THIS OPPORTUNITY FOR REASONS THAT AREN'T TO SATISFY MY OWN NEEDS.)

Why did he have to word it like that?

"it's her soul. it's been touched by the entity. i'm sure a smart guy like you would love to check it out."

This resets the Doctor's mood into a more serious one.

"💧❄☼✌🏱 ☟☜☼ ✋☠📬 ✋ 🕈✋☹☹ ☼☜❄🕆☼☠ 💣⚐💣☜☠❄✌☼✋☹✡📬" (STRAP HER IN. I WILL RETURN MOMENTARILY.)

The Doctor leaves us and Chops pulls me to one of the five chairs.

"W-Wait a sec..."

"don't start actin' up now."

He shoves me into the seat and begins restraining my limbs...with oddly no effort from me to stop him.

"we don't need ya bein' a pain. not here."

"I'm not. I just want you to do something for me."

"i ain't doin'..."

"Promise you'll kill me if things get bad."

He pauses.

"don't be so dramatic."

"No, I mean it. I get the idea you know how bad things can get here. Just..."

"i don't make promises, meat."

"Then hold up to our deal! I have your back and you have mine."

He growls.

"I'll owe you for it. Nothing will be off the table. I promise."

"🏱✌❄☟☜❄✋👍📬📬📬" (PATHETIC...)

Fuck.

"☼☜💧⚐☼❄✋☠☝ ❄⚐ 👌☜☝☝✋☠☝ ☞⚐☼ 💣☜☼👍✡ 👌☜☞⚐☼☜ ❄☟☜ ☞🕆☠ ☟✌💧 ☜✞☜☠ 👌☜☝🕆☠✍ ☟🕆💣✌☠💧 ❄☼🕆☜☹✡ ✌☼☜ 🕈☜✌😐 👍☼☜✌❄🕆☼☜💧📬" (RESORTING TO BEGGING FOR MERCY BEFORE THE FUN HAS EVEN BEGUN? HUMANS TRUELY ARE WEAK CREATURES.)

Chops backs up as the Doctor returns wheeling in a worrisome looking cart, taking his time to set up some sort of equipment.

"👎⚐☠🕯❄ ❄☜☹☹ 💣☜ ✡⚐🕆🕯☼☜ ☞⚐⚐☹✋💧☟ ☜☠⚐🕆☝☟ ❄⚐ ☞✌☹☹ ☞⚐☼ 💧🕆👍☟ 🕈⚐☼👎💧📪 ☹☜☝✋⚐☠✍" (DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE FOOLISH ENOUGH TO FALL FOR SUCH WORDS, LEGION?)

Chops scoffs, dismissing and distancing himself from this.

"☟🕆💣✌☠📬📬📬" (HUMAN...)

And it begins.

"👌☼✋☠☝ ⚐🕆❄ ✡⚐🕆☼ 💧⚐🕆☹📬 ✋ 💣🕆💧❄ ☜✠✌💣✋☠☜ ❄☟☜ ☜✠❄☜☠❄ ⚐☞ 👍⚐☼☼🕆🏱❄✋⚐☠📬" (BRING OUT YOUR SOUL. I MUST EXAMINE THE EXTENT OF CORRUPTION.)

"I..."

"she don't know how."

Okay, it looks like I don't get to speak for myself.

"✡⚐🕆🕯☼☜ ☺⚐😐✋☠☝✍" (YOU'RE JOKING?)

Doctor looks at me and I shrug, making him rub his face with a long sigh.

"☹☜❄ 💣☜ ☝🕆☜💧💧📬📬📬☠⚐ ⚐☠☜ ☟✌💧 ☜✠🏱☹✌✋☠☜👎 ☟⚐🕈 ❄⚐ 👎⚐ 💧⚐📪 👍⚐☼☼☜👍❄✍" (LET ME GUESS...NO ONE HAS EXPLAINED HOW TO DO SO, CORRECT?)

I nod.

"pretty much it comes out when she is or believes to be near death."

He approaches and presses a single static charged bony digit to my chest.

"☞⚐👍🕆💧 ⚐☠ ❄☟✋💧 🏱⚐✋☠❄📬 ✋💣✌☝✋☠ ❄☟☜ 💧⚐🕆☹📬 🏱✋👍❄🕆☼☜ ✋❄ ☹☜✌✞✋☠☝ ⚐🕆❄ ☞☼⚐💣 ❄☟✋💧 🏱⚐✋☠❄📬" (FOCUS ON THIS POINT. IMAGIN THE SOUL. PICTURE IT LEAVING OUT FROM THIS POINT.)

I feel like a child being talked down to while being told how to do something brand new yet expected to know already. I, resentfully, comply and close my eyes. Following the instructions as given. I feel his finger leave but the electric sting remains. In fact, it gets worse as time goes on. My fingers twitch and lock up trying to claw the armrests. A sudden flash gets my eyes to shoot open as pain strikes my exposed soul that is now being caught his is charged grasp.

"❄☟✌☠😐 ✡⚐🕆 ☞⚐☼ ✡⚐🕆☼ 👍⚐⚐🏱☜☼✌❄✋⚐☠📬" (THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION.)

I don't get to say anything before he removes it and my body goes limp in place. Great! Now all I can do is watch. Watch as he takes it over to that weird cart...and suffer in silence.

"☞✌💧👍✋☠✌❄✋☠☝📬 ✌ 💧⚐🕆☹ ❄☟✌❄ 🏱⚐💧💧☜💧💧☜💧 💣🕆☹❄✋🏱☹☜ ❄☼✌✋❄💧📬 ✋ 🕈⚐🕆☹👎☠🕯❄ ❄☟✋☠😐 ✋❄ 🕈✌💧 ☼☜✌☹ ✋☞ ✋ 🕈☜☼☜ ☠⚐❄ 💧☜☜✋☠☝ ✋❄ ☞⚐☼ 💣✡ 💧☜☹☞📬" (FASCINATING. A SOUL THAT POSSESSES MULTIPLE TRAITS. I WOULDN'T THINK IT WAS REAL IF I WERE NOT SEEING IT FOR MY SELF.)

Chops looks at me, earning him my weakened glance, and then moves to witness the Doctor's work.

"how bad is it?"

"👍⚐☠👍☜☼☠☜👎✍" (CONCERNED?)

"*scoff* if she hollows away than i don't get my rights."

"☞✌✋☼ ☜☠⚐🕆☝☟📬" (FAIR ENOUGH.)

I can feel pricking. Sharp pricking.

"❄☟☜ 💧👍✌☼💧 ✌☼☜☠🕯❄ 💣✌☠✡📪 👌🕆❄ ☼✌❄☟☜☼ 👎☜☜🏱📬 ✌ 👍⚐💣💣☜☠👎✌👌☹☜ ☜☞☞⚐☼❄ ✋☠ ☼☜💧✋💧❄✋☠☝ ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡ ☞⚐☼ 💧🕆☼☜📬 ❄☟⚐🕆☝☟ ✌ 💧❄🕆🏱✋👎 👍☟⚐✋👍☜ ❄⚐ 💣✌😐☜ ☠⚐☠☜ ❄☟☜ ☹☜💧💧📬" (THE SCARS AREN'T MANY, BUT RATHER DEEP. A COMMENDABLE EFFORT IN RESISTING THE ENTITY FOR SURE. THOUGH A STUPID CHOICE TO MAKE NONE THE LESS.)

Doctor moves over to a cabinet and collects a small kit, letting me see my soul strung up with tiny hooks to hover over a bowl. I don't like this.

"✋☞ 💧☟☜ 👍⚐☠❄✋☠🕆☜💧 ❄☟✋💧📪 ✋ ☝✋✞☜ ☟☜☼ ☹☜💧💧 ❄☟✌☠ ✌ ☟✌☠👎☞🕆☹ ⚐☞ ❄✋💣☜💧 👌☜☞⚐☼☜ 👌☜✋☠☝ 👍⚐💣🏱☹☜❄☜☹✡ 👍⚐☼☼🕆🏱❄☜👎📬" (IF SHE CONTINUES THIS, I GIVE HER LESS THAN A HANDFUL OF TIMES BEFORE BEING COMPLETELY CORRUPTED.)

"ya sure?"

"❄☟✋💧 ✋💧 ☠⚐❄ 💣✡ ☞✋☼💧❄ ☜☠👍⚐🕆☠❄☜☼ 👎☜✌☹✋☠☝ 🕈✋❄☟ ❄✌✋☠❄☜👎 💧⚐🕆☹💧📬 ❄☟☜☼☜ 🕈☜☼☜ ⚐❄☟☜☼ ☟🕆💣✌☠💧 ✌☠👎 ☜✞☜☠ 💣⚐☠💧❄☜☼💧 ❄☟✌❄ 🕈☜☼☜ ☹⚐💧❄ ❄⚐ ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡🕯💧 💧👍✌☼💧📬" (THIS IS NOT MY FIRST ENCOUNTER DEALING WITH TAINTED SOULS. THERE WERE OTHER HUMANS AND EVEN MONSTERS THAT WERE LOST TO THE ENTITY'S SCARS.)

"ya mean this shit happens even to us?"

"👌⚐✡📪 ✡⚐🕆 ✌☼☜ ✌ ☞⚐⚐☹ ❄⚐ ❄☟✋☠😐 🕈☜ ✌☼☜ ✌👌⚐✞☜ 💧🕆👍☟ ❄☟✋☠☝💧 🕈☟☜☠ ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡ ✋💧 ✋☠✞⚐☹✞☜👎📬 ✋❄ 🕈✌💧 💧⚐ ☹⚐☠☝ ✌☝⚐📬 👌✌👍😐 🕈☟☜☠ ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡ 🕈✌💧 💧❄✋☹☹ ☜💧❄✌👌☹✋💧☟✋☠☝ ☼🕆☹☜💧📬 ❄☟☜☼☜ 🕈✌💧 ✌ 💣⚐☠💧❄☜☼ 😐☠⚐🕈☠ ⚐☠☹✡ ✌💧 ❄☟☜ 💧💣✌💧☟☜☼📬 ❄☟☜ 💧💣✌💧☟☜☼ 🕈✌💧 ✌👌☹☜ ❄⚐ 👎☜💧❄☼⚐✡ ✌☹☹ ⚐👌💧❄✌👍☹☜💧 🕈✋❄☟✋☠ ✌ ❄☼✋✌☹📬 ✋☠👍☹🕆👎✋☠☝ ❄☼☜☜💧📪 🕈✌☹☹💧📪 👌🕆✋☹👎✋☠☝💧📪 ☜❄👍📬 ✋❄ 🕈✌💧 ✌ 👌☜✌💧❄ ☹✋😐☜ ☠⚐ ⚐❄☟☜☼ ✌☠👎 ☜💣👌☼✌👍☜👎 ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡ 💣⚐☼☜ ❄☟✌☠ ✋❄ 💧☟⚐🕆☹👎🕯✞☜📬 ❄⚐ ❄☟☜ 🏱⚐✋☠❄ ❄☟☜☼☜ 🕈✌💧 ☠⚐ 🕆☠👎⚐✋☠☝ ⚐☞ ❄☟☜ 👎✌💣✌☝☜📬 ✋❄ 💧🕆👍👍🕆💣☜👎 ☜✌☼☹✡ ⚐☠ 👎🕆☼✋☠☝ ❄☟✋💧 👎☜✞☜☹⚐🏱💣☜☠❄ 👍✡👍☹☜📬 ❄☟☜✋☼ ☼☜💣⚐✞✌☹ 🕈✌💧 ✌☹💧⚐ ☞⚐☼ ⚐❄☟☜☼ ☼☜✌💧⚐☠💧📬 ❄☟☜✡ ☟✌👎 👌☜👍⚐💣☜ ❄⚐⚐ 🕆☠☞✌✋☼📬 ❄☟☜ ❄☼✋✌☹💧 🕈☜☼☜ ✌❄ 🕆☠☜✞☜☠ ⚐👎👎💧 ✋☞ ✌ 😐✋☹☹☜☼ 🕈✌💧 ✌👌☹☜ ❄⚐ ☼☜💣⚐✞☜ ✌☹☹ ⚐☞ ❄☟☜ ☜☹☜💣☜☠❄💧 ✋☠ ✌ ☼☜✌☹💣📬 ❄☟✋💧 🕈✌💧 ✌☼⚐🕆☠👎 ❄☟☜ 💧✌💣☜ ❄✋💣☜ ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡ ☼☜💣⚐✞☜👎 ❄☟☜ ☟🕆💣✌☠🕯💧 ✌👌✋☹✋❄✡ ❄⚐ 👍☹✋💣👌📬" (BOY, YOU ARE A FOOL TO THINK WE ARE ABOVE SUCH THINGS WHEN THE ENTITY IS INVOLVED. IT WAS SO LONG AGO. BACK WHEN THE ENTITY WAS STILL ESTABLISHING RULES. THERE WAS A MONSTER KNOWN ONLY AS THE SMASHER. THE SMASHER WAS ABLE TO DESTROY ALL OBSTACLES WITHIN A TRIAL. INCLUDING TREES, WALLS, BUILDINGS, ETC. IT WAS A BEAST LIKE NO OTHER AND EMBRACED THE ENTITY MORE THAN IT SHOULD'VE. TO THE POINT THERE WAS NO UNDOING OF THE DAMAGE. IT SUCCUMED EARLY ON DURING THIS DEVELOPMENT CYCLE. THEIR REMOVAL WAS ALSO FOR OTHER REASONS. THEY HAD BECOME TOO UNFAIR. THE TRIALS WERE AT UNEVEN ODDS IF A KILLER WAS ABLE TO REMOVE ALL OF THE ELEMENTS IN A REALM. THIS WAS AROUND THE SAME TIME THE ENTITY REMOVED THE HUMAN'S ABILITY TO CLIMB.)

Wait...Didn't I climb a tree in my first trial as well as the watchtower? Such a memory has Chops look back at me. Not like I can answer him. I only hope he doesn't mention it. My breath suddenly hitches. Something is digging into me.

"whatcha doin'?"

"❄☟☜💧☜ 💧👍✌☼💧 ✌☼☜ ☹✋😐☜ ✋☠☞☜👍❄✋⚐🕆💧 💧⚐☼☜💧📬 ☞⚐☼ ✌☠✡ ☟☜✌☹✋☠☝ ❄⚐ ❄✌😐☜ ☜☞☞☜👍❄📪 ❄☟☜ ✋☠☞☜👍❄☜👎 ❄✋💧💧🕆☜ 💣🕆💧❄ 👌☜ ☼☜💣⚐✞☜👎📬 ✋ 💣🕆💧❄ 👍⚐☠💧☜☠❄☼✌✋❄ ❄⚐ ✌✞⚐✋👎 🕆☠✋❄☜☠❄✋☠✌☹✡ ☟✌☼💣✋☠☝ ❄☟☜ 💧🕆☼☼⚐🕆☠👎✋☠☝ ☟☜✌☹❄☟✡ ✌☼☜✌💧📬 ☠⚐🕈📬📬📬☹☜✌✞☜ 💣☜ ❄⚐ 💣✡ 👍☼✌☞❄ ✋☠ 🏱☜✌👍☜📬" (THESE SCARS ARE LIKE INFECTIOUS SORES. FOR ANY HEALING TO TAKE EFFECT, THE INFECTED TISSUE MUST BE REMOVED. I MUST CONSENTRAIT TO AVOID UNITENTINALY HARMING THE SURROUNDING HEALTHY AREAS. NOW...LEAVE ME TO MY CRAFT IN PEACE.)

The annoyed arrogant tone Doctor has pushes Chops aside. He grumbles and walks off out of sight.

"✡⚐🕆 ☟✌🏱🏱☜☠ ❄⚐ 👌☜ ✈🕆✋❄☜ ☹🕆👍😐✡📪 ☟🕆💣✌☠📬" (YOU HAPPEN TO BE QUITE LUCKY, HUMAN.)

Really? I'm paralyzed while you do fuck all with my soul. How am I lucky?

"✋☞ ✋❄ 🕈☜☼☜☠🕯❄ ☞⚐☼ ✡⚐🕆☼ ☼✌☼☜ 💧⚐🕆☹ ✌☠👎 🕆☠✋✈🕆☜ ☺⚐✋☠✋☠☝ ⚐☞ ⚐🕆☼ ☼✌☠😐💧📪 ✋ 🕈⚐🕆☹👎☠🕯❄ 👌☜ 👎⚐✋☠☝ ❄☟✋💧 ✌💧 ☝☜☠❄☹✡ ✌💧 ✋ ✌💣📬📬📬⚐☼ ✌❄ ✌☹☹📬" (IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOUR RARE SOUL AND UNIQUE JOINING OF OUR RANKS, I WOULDN'T BE DOING THIS AS GENTLY AS I AM...OR AT ALL.)

So not because of me. Just what I have and what you think I am. I hate it...I hate it when people do this. I am not something so basic. You can't label me with just word of mouth or a passing glance. That is how THEY handle me. The users. I won't be used. I won't be taken advantage of. I won't be hurt again!

"🕈☟✌❄ ❄☟☜ 👎☜✞✋☹📬📬📬✍" (WHAT THE DEVIL...?)

It seems my angsty angst is stirring my soul. Something the Doctor doesn't care for.

"👍☜✌💧☜ ✡⚐🕆☼ 💧❄☼🕆☝☝☹✋☠☝📬 ❄☼✌☠💧☞⚐☼💣✋☠☝ ☠⚐🕈 🕈✋☹☹ ⚐☠☹✡ ☟✌☼💣 ✡⚐🕆☼ 💧⚐🕆☹ ☞🕆☼❄☟☜☼ ✋☠ 💧🕆👍☟ ☞☼✌☝☹☜ 💧❄✌❄☜📬" (CEASE YOUR STRUGGLING. TRANSFORMING NOW WILL ONLY HARM YOUR SOUL FURTHER IN SUCH FRAGLE STATE.)

I am in less than a cooperative mood now and my wide-eyed leer at him is meant to make that clear. But the Doctor is in a zero-tolerance mood himself and comes at me with a glare that hurts to make.

"👎⚐ ☠⚐❄ ❄☜💧❄ 💣☜📪 ☟🕆💣✌☠📬 ✡⚐🕆 🕈✋☹☹ ☠⚐❄ ☹✋😐☜ ❄☟☜ ☼☜🕈✌☼👎 ☞⚐☼ ☜✌☼☠✋☠☝ 💣✡ ✋☼☜📬 💧⚐ ☟☜☜👎 💣✡ 🕈⚐☼👎💧📬 ☼☜☹☜☠❄ ✡⚐🕆☼ ✌☝✋❄✌❄✋⚐☠ ⚐☼ ☜☹💧☜📬" (DO NOT TEST ME, HUMAN. YOU WILL NOT LIKE THE REWARD FOR EARNING MY IRE. SO HEED MY WORDS. RELENT YOUR AGITATION OR ELSE.)

Dark rage. I can feel it building. Across the room, my soul flashes sporadically and the scars brighten their intensity. This displeases him and he rubs his hands together, building a surge of electricity.

"❄☟☜ 🕈☜✌😐 ✌☹🕈✌✡💧 ☟✌✞☜ ❄⚐ 👌☜ ☠☜☜👎☹☜💧💧☹✡ 💧❄🕆👌👌⚐☼☠📬" (THE WEAK ALWAYS HAVE TO BE NEEDLESSLY STUBBORN.)

With one hand, he palms my head and sends that charge through my system. My body jerks violently. Faint sounds escape my stiffened vocal cords. Tears begin to swell in my eyes and burn. He stops when the flickering of my soul ends and looks down upon my smoking form.

"✋ ☟✌✞☜ ☹☜✌☼☠☜👎 ✌ ☝☼☜✌❄ 👎☜✌☹ ✌👌⚐🕆❄ ☟🕆💣✌☠💧 ✋☠ 💣✡ ☹✋☞☜📬 ☟🕆💣✌☠💧 ☟✌✞☜ 👎✋☜👎 ✌❄ ✌💧 ☹⚐🕈 ✌💧 🗐📄 ✞⚐☹❄💧📬 ❄✋💣☜ ✋💧 ✌☹💧⚐ ✌ ☞✌👍❄⚐☼📬 ✌ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ⚐☞ 📁📬📂 ✌💣🏱☜☼☜💧 ☞⚐☼ ✌ 💣☜☼☜ 📄 💧☜👍⚐☠👎💧 👍✌☠ 👌☜ ☞✌❄✌☹📬 ✌💧 ✞⚐☹❄✌☝☜ 🖬 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ✠ ☼☜💧✋💧❄✌☠👍☜ ❄☟☜ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ 👎☜🏱☜☠👎💧 ⚐☠ 👌⚐👎✡ ☼☜💧✋💧❄✌☠👍☜📬 ❄☟☜ ✋☠❄☜☼☠✌☹ ☼☜💧✋💧❄✌☠👍☜ 👌☜❄🕈☜☜☠ ❄☟☜ ☜✌☼💧 ✋💧 ⚐☠☹✡ 📂📁📁 ⚐☟💣💧📪 🕈☟✋☹☜ ✋❄ ✋💧 ✌☼⚐🕆☠👎 🗄📁📁 ⚐☟💣💧 🕈☟☜☠ 💣☜✌💧🕆☼☜👎 ☞☼⚐💣 ☞✋☠☝☜☼ ❄⚐ ❄⚐☜📬" (I HAVE LEARNED A GREAT DEAL ABOUT HUMANS IN MY LIFE. HUMANS HAVE DIED AT AS LOW AS 42 VOLTS. TIME IS ALSO A FACTOR. A CURRENT OF 0.1 AMPERES FOR A MERE 2 SECONDS CAN BE FATAL. AS VOLTAGE = CURRENT X RESISTANCE THE CURRENT DEPENDS ON BODY RESISTANCE. THE INTERNAL RESISTANCE BETWEEN THE EARS IS ONLY 100 OHMS, WHILE IT IS AROUND 500 OHMS WHEN MEASURED FROM FINGER TO TOE.)

Is this bastard really lecturing me right now? Everything hurts. Everything burns. I'm moving but not of my own accord.

"✌ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ⚐☞ 📂📁 💣✌ ⚐☼ 📁📬📁📂 ✌💣🏱☜☼☜ 🏱☼⚐✞✋👎☜💧 ✌ 💧☜✞☜☼☜ 💧☟⚐👍😐📪 👌🕆❄ ✋❄ 🕈⚐🕆☹👎☠’❄ 👌☜ ☞✌❄✌☹📬 ✌💧 🕈☜ ✌🏱🏱☼⚐✌👍☟ 📂📁📁 💣✌ ⚐☼ 📁📬📂 ✌💣🏱☜☼☜💧📪 💣🕆💧👍🕆☹✌☼ 👍⚐☠❄☼✌👍❄✋⚐☠💧 👌☜☝✋☠📬 ✋❄ ✋💧 ✋💣🏱☜☼✌❄✋✞☜ ❄⚐ ☼☜✌☹✋☪☜ ❄☟✌❄ 👌☜👍✌🕆💧☜ ⚐☞ ❄☟☜ ☟☜✌☼❄’💧 ☹⚐🕈 ☼☜💧✋💧❄✌☠👍☜📪 ✌ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ⚐☞ 💣✌☝☠✋❄🕆👎☜ ✌💧 💧💣✌☹☹ ✌💧 📂📁 💣✌ ❄☟☼⚐🕆☝☟ ✋❄ ✋💧 ☜☠⚐🕆☝☟ ❄⚐ 😐✋☹☹ ✌ ☟🕆💣✌☠📬 ☟⚐🕈☜✞☜☼📪 ❄☟☜ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ☠☜✞☜☼ ☼☜✌👍☟☜💧 ❄☟☜ ☟☜✌☼❄📪 ✌💧 ❄☟☜ ☼☜💧✋💧❄✌☠👍☜ ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆☼ 💧😐✋☠ ✋💧 ☟✋☝☟☜☼📪 ❄☟☜☼☜👌✡ ✌👌💧⚐☼👌✋☠☝ ❄☟✋💧 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ☜☠❄✋☼☜☹✡📬 ✋☞ ❄☟✋💧 🏱✌☹❄☼✡ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ 🕈☜☼☜ ❄⚐ ☼☜✌👍☟ ❄☟☜ ☟☜✌☼❄ 👌✡ ✌☠✡ 💣☜✌☠💧📪 ✋❄ 🕈⚐🕆☹👎 ✌☹💣⚐💧❄ 👍☜☼❄✌✋☠☹✡ 👌☜ ☞✌❄✌☹📬" (A CURRENT OF 10 MA OR 0.01 AMPERE PROVIDES A SEVERE SHOCK, BUT IT WOULDN’T BE FATAL. AS WE APPROACH 100 MA OR 0.1 AMPERES, MUSCULAR CONTRACTIONS BEGIN. IT IS IMPERATIVE TO REALIZE THAT BECAUSE OF THE HEART’S LOW RESISTANCE, A CURRENT OF MAGNITUDE AS SMALL AS 10 MA THROUGH IT IS ENOUGH TO KILL A HUMAN. HOWEVER, THE CURRENT NEVER REACHES THE HEART, AS THE RESISTANCE OF YOUR SKIN IS HIGHER, THEREBY ABSORBING THIS CURRENT ENTIRELY. IF THIS PALTRY CURRENT WERE TO REACH THE HEART BY ANY MEANS, IT WOULD ALMOST CERTAINLY BE FATAL.)

He takes hold of my shoulders, temporarily ending my harsh twitching so my head doesn't bash itself.

"🕈☟☜☠ ❄☟☜ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ✋☠👍☼☜✌💧☜💧 👌☜✡⚐☠👎 📂📁📁📁 💣✌ ⚐☼ 📂 ✌💣🏱☜☼☜📪 ❄☟☜ 💣🕆💧👍🕆☹✌☼ 👍⚐☠❄☼✌👍❄✋⚐☠💧 ✌🕆☝💣☜☠❄ ❄⚐ ✌☠ ☜✠❄☜☠❄ ❄☟✌❄ 👎⚐☜💧 ☠⚐❄ ✌☹☹⚐🕈 ☼☜☹☜✌💧☜ 💧✋☝☠✌☹💧 ❄⚐ ❄☟☜ ☹✋💣👌💧 ❄⚐ 👌☜ ☼☜👍☜✋✞☜👎📬 ❄☟✋💧 ❄☜☠✌👍✋❄✡ ✋💧 ✋☼⚐☠✋👍✌☹☹✡ ✌ 👍⚐☠💧☜✈🕆☜☠👍☜ ⚐☞ 💣🕆💧👍🕆☹✌☼ 🏱✌☼✌☹✡💧✋💧📬 ✌❄ ❄☟✋💧 🏱⚐✋☠❄📪 ❄☟☜ ☟☜✌☼❄ ☜✠🏱☜☼✋☜☠👍☜💧 ✞☜☠❄☼✋👍🕆☹✌☼ ☞✋👌☼✋☹☹✌❄✋⚐☠📪 ✌☠ 🕆☠👍⚐⚐☼👎✋☠✌❄☜👎 ✋☠❄☜☼💣✋❄❄☜☠❄ ❄🕈✋❄👍☟✋☠☝ ⚐☞ ❄☟☜ ☟☜✌☼❄’💧 ✞☜☠❄☼✋👍☹☜💧 ❄☟✌❄ 🏱☼⚐👎🕆👍☜💧 ✋☠☜☞☞☜👍❄✋✞☜ ☟☜✌☼❄👌☜✌❄💧📪 🕈☟✋👍☟ 👍⚐🕆☹👎 ☼☜💧🕆☹❄ ✋☠ 👎☜✌❄☟ ✋☞ ☟☜☹🏱 ✋💧 ☠⚐❄ 💧🕆💣💣⚐☠☜👎 ✋💣💣☜👎✋✌❄☜☹✡📬 ☞🕆☼❄☟☜☼ ✋☠👍☼☜✌💧☜ ✋☠ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ❄⚐🕈✌☼👎💧 📄📁📁📁 💣✌ ⚐☼ 📄 ✌💣🏱☜☼☜ 🏱☼⚐👎🕆👍☜💧 👌🕆☼☠💧 ✌☠👎 🕆☠👍⚐☠💧👍✋⚐🕆💧☠☜💧💧📬 ❄☟☜ 💣🕆💧👍🕆☹✌☼ 👍⚐☠❄☼✌👍❄✋⚐☠ ✋☠👎🕆👍☜👎 👌✡ ❄☟☜ 💧☟⚐👍😐 🕈⚐🕆☹👎 ☠⚐🕈 💧⚐ 💧☜✞☜☼☜ ❄☟✌❄ ❄☟☜ ☟☜✌☼❄ 🏱☹🕆☠☝☜💧 ✋☠❄⚐ 👍☹✌💣🏱💧📬 ☜✠🏱⚐💧🕆☼☜ ❄⚐ 💧🕆👍☟ ✌☠ ✌💣⚐🕆☠❄ ⚐☞ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ 👍⚐🕆☹👎 ☹☜✌👎 ❄⚐ 👎☼☜✌👎☞🕆☹ ✋☠❄☜☼☠✌☹ 👌🕆☼☠💧📪 ✌☠👎 ❄☟☜ 👍☹✌💣🏱💧 💣✌✡ ☹☜✌👎 ❄⚐ 👍✌☼👎✋✌👍 ✌☼☼☜💧❄📬 👎☜✌❄☟ ✋💧 🏱⚐💧💧✋👌☹☜📬 ☟⚐🕈☜✞☜☼📪 ❄☟☜ 👍☹✌💣🏱✋☠☝ 💣☜👍☟✌☠✋💧💣 ✋💧 👎☜✞✋💧☜👎 ✋☠ ✌ 🕈✌✡ ❄☟✌❄ ✋❄ ✋💧 💧🕆☼🏱☼✋💧✋☠☝☹✡ ☹🕆👍☼✌❄✋✞☜📪 ✌💧 ✋❄ 🏱☼⚐❄☜👍❄💧 ❄☟☜ ☟☜✌☼❄ ☞☼⚐💣 ✞☜☠❄☼✋👍🕆☹✌☼ ☞✋👌☼✋☹☹✌❄✋⚐☠📬 👍☟✌☠👍☜💧 ⚐☞ 💧🕆☼✞✋✞✌☹ ✌☼☜ 💧👍✌☠❄📪 👌🕆❄ ☼☜👎☜☜💣✌👌☹☜ ✋☞ ❄☟☜ ✞✋👍❄✋💣 ☼☜👍☜✋✞☜💧 ✋💣💣☜👎✋✌❄☜ ✌❄❄☜☠❄✋⚐☠📬 👎☜☞✋👌☼✋☹☹✌❄⚐☼💧 ✌☼☜ 🕆❄✋☹✋☪☜👎 ❄⚐ 💧✌✞☜ 💧🕆👍☟ 💧☟⚐👍😐📫✋💣🏱✋☠☝☜👎 ✞✋👍❄✋💣💧📬" (WHEN THE CURRENT INCREASES BEYOND 1000 MA OR 1 AMPERE, THE MUSCULAR CONTRACTIONS AUGMENT TO AN EXTENT THAT DOES NOT ALLOW RELEASE SIGNALS TO THE LIMBS TO BE RECEIVED. THIS TENACITY IS IRONICALLY A CONSEQUENCE OF MUSCULAR PARALYSIS. AT THIS POINT, THE HEART EXPERIENCES VENTRICULAR FIBRILLATION, AN UNCOORDINATED INTERMITTENT TWITCHING OF THE HEART’S VENTRICLES THAT PRODUCES INEFFECTIVE HEARTBEATS, WHICH COULD RESULT IN DEATH IF HELP IS NOT SUMMONED IMMEDIATELY. FURTHER INCREASE IN CURRENT TOWARDS 2000 MA OR 2 AMPERE PRODUCES BURNS AND UNCONSCIOUSNESS. THE MUSCULAR CONTRACTION INDUCED BY THE SHOCK WOULD NOW SO SEVERE THAT THE HEART PLUNGES INTO CLAMPS. EXPOSURE TO SUCH AN AMOUNT OF CURRENT COULD LEAD TO DREADFUL INTERNAL BURNS, AND THE CLAMPS MAY LEAD TO CARDIAC ARREST. DEATH IS POSSIBLE. HOWEVER, THE CLAMPING MECHANISM IS DEVISED IN A WAY THAT IT IS SURPRISINGLY LUCRATIVE, AS IT PROTECTS THE HEART FROM VENTRICULAR FIBRILLATION. CHANCES OF SURVIVAL ARE SCANT, BUT REDEEMABLE IF THE VICTIM RECEIVES IMMEDIATE ATTENTION. DEFIBRILLATORS ARE UTILIZED TO SAVE SUCH SHOCK-IMPINGED VICTIMS.)

Why couldn't I be fortunate enough to blackout? Why do I have to be aware of all this?

"❄☟☜ ☼☜🏱☜☼👍🕆💧💧✋⚐☠💧 ⚐☞ 💧🕆👍☟ ☟✌☼💣 👍✌☠ 👌☜ 💧🕆💣💣✌☼✋☪☜👎 ☹✋😐☜ ❄☟✋💧📬📬📬📂 💣✋☹☹✋✌💣🏱 ✋💧 ☜✈🕆✌☹ ❄⚐ ☺🕆💧❄ ✌ ☞✌✋☠❄ ❄✋☠☝☹☜📬 🗄 💣✋☹☹✋✌💣🏱💧 ✌☼☜ ☜✈🕆✌☹ ❄⚐ 💧☹✋☝☟❄ 💧☟⚐👍😐💧 👌☜✋☠☝ ☞☜☹❄📬 👎✋💧❄🕆☼👌✋☠☝📪 👌🕆❄ ☠⚐❄ 🏱✌✋☠☞🕆☹📬 ☟⚐🕈☜✞☜☼📪 💧❄☼⚐☠☝ ✋☠✞⚐☹🕆☠❄✌☼✡ 💣⚐✞☜💣☜☠❄💧 👍✌☠ 👍✌🕆💧☜ ✋☠☺🕆☼✋☜💧📬 ⌛📫📄🗄 💣✋☹☹✋✌💣🏱💧 ☞⚐☼ 🕈⚐💣☜☠ ✌☠👎 🖲📫🗏📁 💣✋☹☹✋✌💣🏱💧 ☞⚐☼ 💣☜☠ ✋💧 ☜✈🕆✌☹ ❄⚐ 🏱✌✋☠☞🕆☹ 💧☟⚐👍😐💧📬 💣🕆💧👍🕆☹✌☼ 👍⚐☠❄☼⚐☹ ✋💧 ☹⚐💧❄📬 ❄☟✋💧 ✋💧 ❄☟☜ ☼✌☠☝☜ 🕈☟☜☼☜ ☞☼☜☜☪✋☠☝ 👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄💧 💧❄✌☼❄ ✌☠👎 ❄☟☜ 💣🕆💧👍☹☜💧 ☹⚐👍😐🕆🏱📬 🗄📁📫📂🗄📁 💣✋☹☹✋✌💣🏱💧 ✌☼☜ ☜✈🕆✌☹ ❄⚐ ☜✠❄☼☜💣☜☹✡ 🏱✌✋☠☞🕆☹ 💧☟⚐👍😐💧📪 ☼☜💧🏱✋☼✌❄⚐☼✡ ✌☼☼☜💧❄📪 ✌☠👎 💧☜✞☜☼☜ 💣🕆💧👍☹☜ 👍⚐☠❄☼✌👍❄✋⚐☠💧📬 ☞☹☜✠⚐☼ 💣🕆💧👍☹☜💧 💣✌✡ 👍✌🕆💧☜ ☟⚐☹👎✋☠☝ ⚐☠🖴 ☜✠❄☜☠💧⚐☼ 💣🕆💧👍☹☜💧 💣✌✡ 👍✌🕆💧☜ ✋☠❄☜☠💧☜ 🏱🕆💧☟✋☠☝ ✌🕈✌✡📬 👎☜✌❄☟ ✋💧 🏱⚐💧💧✋👌☹☜📬 📂📪📁📁📁📫 🗐📪🗏📁📁 💣✋☹☹✋✌💣🏱💧 ⚐☼ 📂📫🗐📬🗏 ✌💣🏱💧 ✋💧 ☜✈🕆✌☹ ❄⚐ ✞☜☠❄☼✋👍🕆☹✌☼ ☞✋👌☼✋☹☹✌❄✋⚐☠ 👎✋💧❄🕆☼👌✌☠👍☜📬 💣🕆💧👍☹☜💧 👍⚐☠❄☼✌👍❄🖴 ☠☜☼✞☜ 👎✌💣✌☝☜ ⚐👍👍🕆☼💧📬 👎☜✌❄☟ ✋💧 ☹✋😐☜☹✡📬 📂📁📪📁📁📁 💣✋☹☹✋✌💣🏱💧 ⚐☼ 📂📁 ✌💣🏱💧 ✋💧 ☜✈🕆✌☹ ❄⚐ 👍✌☼👎✋✌👍 ✌☼☼☜💧❄ ✌☠👎 💧☜✞☜☼☜ 👌🕆☼☠💧 ⚐👍👍🕆☼📬 👎☜✌❄☟ ✋💧 🏱☼⚐👌✌👌☹☜📬 📂🗄📪📁📁📁 💣✋☹☹✋✌💣🏱💧 ⚐☼ 📂🗄 ✌💣🏱💧 ✋💧 ☜✈🕆✌☹ ❄⚐ ❄☟☜ ☹⚐🕈☜💧❄ ⚐✞☜☼👍🕆☼☼☜☠❄ ✌❄ 🕈☟✋👍☟ ✌ ❄✡🏱✋👍✌☹ ☞🕆💧☜ ⚐☼ 👍✋☼👍🕆✋❄ 👌☼☜✌😐☜☼ ⚐🏱☜☠💧 ✌ 👍✋☼👍🕆✋❄📬 👎☜✌❄☟ ✋💧 ☝🕆✌☼✌☠❄☜☜👎📬 ❄⚐ 🏱🕆❄ ❄☟✋💧 ✋☠ 🏱☜☼💧🏱☜👍❄✋✞☜📪 ☜☹☜👍❄☼✋👍 👍☟✌✋☼💧 🕆💧☜👎 ☞⚐☼ ☜✠☜👍🕆❄✋⚐☠ 🏱🕆☼🏱⚐💧☜💧 🕆💧☜ ✌ ✞⚐☹❄✌☝☜ 🕆💧🕆✌☹☹✡ 🕆💧☜ 📄📪📁📁📁 ❄⚐ 📄📪📄📁📁 ✞⚐☹❄💧 ✌❄ 🖮 ❄⚐ 📂📄 ✌💣🏱💧📬 ❄☟☜ ✞⚐☹❄✌☝☜ ✋ 🕆💧☜👎 ⚐☠ ✡⚐🕆 🕈✌💧 ☜✠✌👍❄☹✡ ⌛ ✌💣🏱💧📬" (THE REPERCUSSIONS OF SUCH HARM CAN BE SUMMARIZED LIKE THIS...1 MILLIAMP IS EQUAL TO JUST A FAINT TINGLE. 5 MILLIAMPS ARE EQUAL TO SLIGHT SHOCKS BEING FELT. DISTURBING, BUT NOT PAINFUL. HOWEVER, STRONG INVOLUNTARY MOVEMENTS CAN CAUSE INJURIES. 6-25 MILLIAMPS FOR WOMEN AND 9-30 MILLIAMPS FOR MEN IS EQUAL TO PAINFUL SHOCKS. MUSCULAR CONTROL IS LOST. THIS IS THE RANGE WHERE FREEZING CURRENTS START AND THE MUSCLES LOCKUP. 50-150 MILLIAMPS ARE EQUAL TO EXTREMELY PAINFUL SHOCKS, RESPIRATORY ARREST, AND SEVERE MUSCLE CONTRACTIONS. FLEXOR MUSCLES MAY CAUSE HOLDING ON; EXTENSOR MUSCLES MAY CAUSE INTENSE PUSHING AWAY. DEATH IS POSSIBLE. 1,000- 4,300 MILLIAMPS OR 1-4.3 AMPS IS EQUAL TO VENTRICULAR FIBRILLATION DISTURBANCE. MUSCLES CONTRACT; NERVE DAMAGE OCCURS. DEATH IS LIKELY. 10,000 MILLIAMPS OR 10 AMPS IS EQUAL TO CARDIAC ARREST AND SEVERE BURNS OCCUR. DEATH IS PROBABLE. 15,000 MILLIAMPS OR 15 AMPS IS EQUAL TO THE LOWEST OVERCURRENT AT WHICH A TYPICAL FUSE OR CIRCUIT BREAKER OPENS A CIRCUIT. DEATH IS GUARANTEED. TO PUT THIS IN PERSPECTIVE, ELECTRIC CHAIRS USED FOR EXECUTION PURPOSES USE A VOLTAGE USUALLY USE 2,000 TO 2,200 VOLTS AT 7 TO 12 AMPS. THE VOLTAGE I USED ON YOU WAS EXACTLY 6 AMPS.)

He lets go and looks down at me, my twitching is slightly less crazy.

"✋ 🕈✋☹☹ ☠⚐❄ 👌☜ 💧⚐ 😐✋☠👎 ☠☜✠❄ ❄✋💣☜📬 💧⚐ ☹☜✌☼☠ ☞☼⚐💣 ❄☟✋💧📬 👎⚐ ✌💧 ❄⚐☹👎 ✌☠👎 ☠⚐ 🕆💧☜☹☜💧💧 ☟✌☼💣 🕈✋☹☹ 👌☜ 👎⚐☠☜📬" (I WILL NOT BE SO KIND NEXT TIME. SO LEARN FROM THIS. DO AS TOLD AND NO USELESS HARM WILL BE DONE.)

He returns to his work on my soul, confident that he won't be needing to discipline me again. This is hell. I'm a drooling broken rag doll that feels pain all over. Even my tears are of little comfort, they feel like acid rolling off my skin. Chops returns sometime later, probably heard the loud crackling of Doctor's electrocution, drinking what looks like a can of pop. Did he find a vending machine? Lucky fucker! The Doctor doesn't pay him any mind, so he shuffles around and looks everywhere like a paranoid sheep. Why so jumpy, bonehead? You're not the one being operated on and fried. When his eyes land on me he seems to stare a bit more intently than expected, maybe seeing something I can't.

"the fuck happened here?"

"✋ ❄⚐☹👎 ✡⚐🕆 ❄⚐ ☹☜✌✞☜ 💣☜ ❄⚐ 💣✡ 🕈⚐☼😐📬" (I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE ME TO MY WORK.)

This ticks Chops off yet he avoids bugging the Doctor. Instead, he approaches me while chugging what's left of his soda. God, what I wouldn't give to have that right now.

"ya look like shit."

Really? I couldn't tell, dumbass.

"pissed him off, didn't ya? what is it with ya and doin' that?"

This coming from the guy that made me give his knife fellatio.

"wanna know somethin' messed up? whatever he did to ya was him goin' easy. if he really was pissed, you'd be fried like overcooked bacon."

And that is supposed to make me feel better?

Due to fucked up nerves and steaming tears I haven't moved my eyes or blinked in awhile. The lack of attention his way has him moving to be in my face and staring into my pained orbs.

"ya didn't go overboard and make her brain dead, did ya?"

He ponders aloud.

"carryin' her ass back isn't somethin' i wanna do."

The Doctor pauses.

"🕈☟⚐ 💧✌✋👎 ✡⚐🕆🕯☹☹ 👌☜ ☹☜✌✞✋☠☝ 🕈✋❄☟ ☟☜☼✍" (WHO SAID YOU'LL BE LEAVING WITH HER?)

I had warned him of something like this happening.

"and what? ya expect us to leave her here?"

"✡⚐🕆 💣✋💧🕆☠👎☜☼💧❄✌☠👎📬📬📬" (YOU MISUNDERSTAND...)

The sound of building charge hits our senses and before Chops can react it's cast across the room, sending Chops flying.

"💧☟☜ ✋💧☠🕯❄ ☹☜✌✞✋☠☝ ☟☜☼☜📬 🏱☜☼✋⚐👎📬" (SHE ISN'T LEAVING HERE. PERIOD.)

I so freaking called it.

Not one to take a hit and flee, Chops gets back up. Standing his ground and snarling like a mad dog.

"ya think ya can take what's mine? nah, motherfucker, that shit ain't happenin'."

Now that things have escalated, the Doctor fully faces Legion.

"🕈☟✌❄ 👎✋👎 ✡⚐🕆 ☼☜✌☹☹✡ ☜✠🏱☜👍❄ 🕈☟☜☠ ✡⚐🕆 👌☼⚐🕆☝☟❄ ☟☜☼ ☟☜☼☜✍ ❄☟✌❄ ✋ 🕈⚐🕆☹👎 ✌✋👎 ✡⚐🕆 💧☜☹☞☹☜💧💧☹✡ 🕈✋❄☟ ☠⚐ 💣⚐❄✋✞☜ ⚐☞ 💣✡ ⚐🕈☠✍ ✡⚐🕆 ☟✌👎 ❄⚐ ☟✌✞☜ 😐☠⚐🕈☠ ✡⚐🕆 🕈☜☼☜ 🕈✌☹😐✋☠☝ ✋☠❄⚐ ✌ ❄☼✌🏱📬 👌🕆❄ ✌ ❄☼✌🏱 ⚐☠☜ 💣🕆💧❄ 💧❄☜🏱 ✋☠ ❄⚐ ☝☜❄ 🕈☟✌❄ ✡⚐🕆 🕈✌☠❄☜👎📬 💧🕆👍☟ ✋☝☠⚐☼✌☠👍☜ ✋💧 👎☜💧☜☼✞✋☠☝ ⚐☞ 🏱🕆☠✋💧☟💣☜☠❄📬" (WHAT DID YOU REALLY EXPECT WHEN YOU BROUGHT HER HERE? THAT I WOULD AID YOU SELFLESSLY WITH NO MOTIVE OF MY OWN? YOU HAD TO HAVE KNOWN YOU WERE WALKING INTO A TRAP. BUT A TRAP ONE MUST STEP IN TO GET WHAT YOU WANTED. SUCH IGNORANCE IS DESERVING OF PUNISHMENT.)

"*growls* bastard!"

Rage has Chops throw his blade at the Doctor. But the mad man doesn't move. He simply catches the metal weapon and electrocutes it, causing great pain to Chops.

"☼☜💧🏱☜👍❄ ⚐☞ ⚐🕆☼ 🏱✌❄✋☜☠❄💧 ✋💧 ✌❄ ❄☟☜ 👍⚐☼☜ ⚐☞ ⚐🕆☼ 🏱☼✋☠👍✋🏱☹☜💧📬 ⚐☠👍☜ 🕈☜ ☟✌✞☜ ☜💧❄✌👌☹✋💧☟☜👎 ✌☠ ☜☞☞☜👍❄✋✞☜ 💣☜❄☟⚐👎 ⚐☞ ❄☼☜✌❄💣☜☠❄📪 🕈☜ 👍✌☠ ☞⚐👍🕆💧 ⚐☠ ✋❄💧 ☜☞☞✋👍✋☜☠❄ 💣☜✌☠💧 ⚐☞ 👎☜☹✋✞☜☼✡📬 ☟⚐🕈☜✞☜☼📬📬📬❄⚐ ✌✞⚐✋👎 ☼☜☹✌🏱💧☜ ☞☼⚐💣 ⚐🕆☼ 💣⚐💧❄ ❄☜☠✌👍✋⚐🕆💧 💧🕆👌☺☜👍❄💧📪 ✋ 🕈✋☹☹ 🕆💧☜ 💣✌✠✋💣🕆💣 ☹☜✞☜☹💧 🕈☟☜☠ 🏱☼⚐👍☜☜👎✋☠☝ 🕈✋❄☟ 👎✋💧👍✋🏱☹✋☠✌☼✡ ✌👍❄✋⚐☠💧📬" (RESPECT OF OUR PATIENTS IS AT THE CORE OF OUR PRINCIPLES. ONCE WE HAVE ESTABLISHED AN EFFECTIVE METHOD OF TREATMENT, WE CAN FOCUS ON ITS EFFICIENT MEANS OF DELIVERY. HOWEVER...TO AVOID RELAPSE FROM OUR MOST TENACIOUS SUBJECTS, I WILL USE MAXIMUM LEVELS WHEN PROCEEDING WITH DISCIPLINARY ACTIONS.)

Chops doesn't look so good and I'm helpless to aid him. Legion isn't built to deal with the Doctor, a killer that can work in short and mid-range. At best Chops has speed on his side especially if he goes into Feral Frenzy, but two things are against him. One is that Feral Frenzy only lasts a short while. And two, the electricity generators in the room might enhance the Doctor's power indirectly.

"❄☟☜ 💧❄✋💣🕆☹🕆💧 💣🕆💧❄ 👌☜ 😐☜🏱❄ ✌👍❄✋✞☜ ✌❄ ✌ 👍⚐☠✞🕆☹💧✋✞☜ ☹☜✞☜☹📬 💧✋👎☜ ☜☞☞☜👍❄💧 ✌☼☜ ✞☜☼✡ ☼✌☼☜📬" (THE STIMULUS MUST BE KEPT ACTIVE AT A CONVULSIVE LEVEL. SIDE EFFECTS ARE VERY RARE.)

"*huff* fuck you!"

Doctor charges to shock the weapon again but Chops yanks it harder than the Doctor expects, regaining

it. With the blade back in his hands Chops gets ready for the Doctor's next more. A smart play since he's at the home-field disadvantage.

"✋☞ ✡⚐🕆 ❄☟✋☠😐 ✡⚐🕆🕯☹☹ 👌☜ ✌👌☹☜ ❄⚐ ❄✌😐☜ 💧🕆👍☟ ✌ ☼✌☼☜ 💧🏱☜👍✋💣☜☠ ☞☼⚐💣 💣✡ ☝☼✌💧🏱📪 ✌☹☹⚐🕈 💣☜ ❄⚐ ☼☜📫☜👎🕆👍✌❄☜ ✡⚐🕆☼ 💧✋💣🏱☹☜ 💣✋☠👎📬" (IF YOU THINK YOU'LL BE ABLE TO TAKE SUCH A RARE SPECIMEN FROM MY GRASP, ALLOW ME TO RE-EDUCATE YOUR SIMPLE MIND.)

"if ya think you'll have a chance like that again, you're in for a hell of a bad time"

Wait...Again? Now I'm really sure these two have a bad history.

Doctor releases the charge across the ground in a wide blast. Lucky for Chops, he enters Feral Frenzy and the speed boost he gets allows him to miss the attack with a quick leap. Activating Feral Frenzy causes The Legion to enter a deadly rage...for ten whole seconds...unless he's got add-ons to increase the duration and shorten cooldown time but even then that's only by seconds.

"✋❄🕯💧 ❄✋💣☜ ☞⚐☼ ✡⚐🕆☼ ☞⚐☹☹⚐🕈🕆🏱 ❄☼☜✌❄💣☜☠❄📪 👌⚐✡✏" (IT'S TIME FOR YOUR FOLLOWUP TREATMENT, BOY!)

The Doctor does have unlimited ammo with his electric powers however he does have to take a few seconds to charge up each time. Chops knows this and his knife doesn't have such a drawback. But if he swings while in frenzy and doesn't hit anyone he will lose frenzy, getting disoriented as the rage subsides. So Chops uses the cover of all the clutter in the room to his advantage to keep from being vulnerable as Doctor follows, trying to get decent shots. I can't move to see everything but I can see what Chops is doing, it's a very smart move. He's keeping the Doctor's attention on him, luring him around the room in a complete circle. The Doctor doesn't realize the plan till Chops is near it...My soul.

"👎⚐☠🕯❄ ✡⚐🕆 ☞🕆👍😐✋☠☝ 👎✌☼☜✏" (DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!)

Doctor blasts Chops square on the back and he's slammed into a partition wall. By now frenzy has ended and needs a twenty-second cooldown, providing he doesn't have an add-on to shorten that. Monsters have fast recovery abilities and Doctor knows this. It's why he wastes no time to begin stomping on the smaller skeleton.

"✡⚐🕆 ✋☠💧✋☝☠✋☞✋👍✌☠❄ 🕈⚐☼💣✏ 👎⚐ ✡⚐🕆 ☟✌✞☜ ✌☠✡ ✋👎☜✌ ⚐☞ ❄☟☜ 💧✋☝☠✋☞✋👍✌☠👍☜ ❄☟✋💧 ☟🕆💣✌☠ ☟⚐☹👎💧✍ ✌ 💧⚐🕆☹ 🕈✋❄☟ 💣🕆☹❄✋🏱☹☜ ❄☼✌✋❄💧 👍✌☠ 🏱⚐💧💧☜💧💧 🕆☠❄⚐☹👎 🏱⚐❄☜☠❄✋✌☹✏ ✋❄ 👍⚐🕆☹👎 🏱⚐💧💧✋👌☹✡ ☟⚐☹👎 ❄☟☜ 😐☜✡ ❄⚐ ☜💧👍✌🏱✋☠☝ ❄☟✋💧 ☟☜☹☹✏ ✌☠👎 💧⚐ ☹⚐☠☝ ✌💧 ❄☟☜☼☜🕯💧 ☜✞☜☠ ✌ ☞☼✌👍❄✋⚐☠ ⚐☞ ✌ 👍☟✌☠👍☜ ✋☠ ❄☟✌❄ 🏱⚐💧💧✋👌✋☹✋❄✡📪 ✋ 🕈✋☹☹ 👎⚐ ✌☠✡❄☟✋☠☝ ✌☠👎 ☜✞☜☼✡❄☟✋☠☝ ❄⚐ 💣✌😐☜ ✋❄ ☟✌🏱🏱☜☠✏ ☠⚐ ⚐☠☜ 🕈✋☹☹ 💧❄✌☠👎 ✋☠ 💣✡ 🕈✌✡📪 ☠⚐❄ ✡⚐🕆📪 ❄☟☜ ⚐❄☟☜☼💧📪 ❄☟☜ ☟🕆💣✌☠💧📪 ⚐☼ ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡✏ ✋ 🕈✋☹☹ 👌☜ ☼✋👎 ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆 ✌☹☹ ☹✋😐☜ 👎✋💧☝🕆💧❄✋☠☝ ✋☹☹☠☜💧💧☜💧✏ ✋ 🕈✋☹☹ ☠⚐❄ 👌☜ 👎☜☠✋☜👎 ⚐☼ 💣✡ ☠✌💣☜ ✋💧☠🕯❄ 🕈📬 👎📬 ☝✌💧❄☜☼✏" (YOU INSIGNIFICANT WORM! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA OF THE SIGNIFICANCE THIS HUMAN HOLDS? A SOUL WITH MULTIPLE TRAITS CAN POSSESS UNTOLD POTENTIAL! IT COULD POSSIBLY HOLD THE KEY TO ESCAPING THIS HELL! AND SO LONG AS THERE'S EVEN A FRACTION OF A CHANCE IN THAT POSSIBILITY, I WILL DO ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING TO MAKE IT HAPPEN! NO ONE WILL STAND IN MY WAY, NOT YOU, THE OTHERS, THE HUMANS, OR THE ENTITY! I WILL BE RID OF YOU ALL LIKE DISGUSTING ILLNESSES! I WILL NOT BE DENIED OR MY NAME ISN'T W. D. GASTER!)

He has a proper name? I mean, it's dumb to think he didn't, but then why do the others just call themselves by the names the humans or the Entity gave them? Monsters make my brain hurt with the number of questions they stir up. But if that's the case, what's Legions' real names? It can't honestly be Bones, Chops, Boo, and Dead Eye...Can it?

Feeling his physical brutality was sufficient enough, the Gaster rubs his hands and charges up a large amount of electricity. Not sure they can actually kill each other but the power could be enough to incapacitate Chops for an unknown amount of time. However, Chops has the strength to throw his blade once more. The Doctor hardly moves to avoid the hit and is overwhelmed with smug superiority.

"✌ 🏱✋❄✋☞🕆☹ ✌❄❄☜💣🏱❄ 💣✌👎☜ 👌✡ ✌ 🏱✋❄✋☞🕆☹ ☞⚐⚐☹📬" (A PITIFUL ATTEMPT MADE BY A PITIFUL FOOL.)

"*strained* heh...wasn't aimin' for you."

Gaster turns with alarm to see the true target of Chops' attack.

"☠⚐⚐⚐⚐⚐⚐⚐⚐⚐⚐⚐✏✏" (NOOOOOOOOOOO!!)

The blade impaled itself in my soul, a sly move aided by my silence. Gaster attempts to keep it from shattering but such damage is beyond even his skill. Needless to say, he's not happy about it.

"🕈☟✌❄ ☟✌✞☜ ✡⚐🕆 👎⚐☠☜✍✏" (WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!)

Chops picks himself up as I feel the cold embrace of death taking me.

"*grunt* remember, meat...ya owe me."

My eyes roll into the back of my head and everything goes black.

[AT THE SURVIVOR'S CAMPSITE]

Another cycle of feeding comes for the Entity, thus a new day. Five trials. Seventeen of the eighteen Survivors are called out for the hunt, some sent out twice. Five Monsters are sent out to sacrifice the human meat. The Entity being hungrier than usual typically does two or three trails per day. Something must be coming. Something it is storing extra soul energy for. The eve of Hallows is approaching. Soon...Very soon. The flowers will bloom once more. But not yet.

By what they guess to be night time comes around, the humans at camp are frazzled from the frantic trials and lack of prep time given. Most are glad it's over and they were only sent once. Others wish the lucky ones would go jump off a cliff. Tough one has been more annoyed than ever. One that's gathered information from the others that his lady wasn't sent to the trials. David King sits and stares into the campfire, doing something some of the others would doubt him able to do...think. Something doesn't feel right. His instincts tell him so. Why wasn't she back by now? She had to be held somewhere. It made sense. He didn't know a lot about her but he knew her well enough to know she wouldn't join the monsters willingly. She's a tough girl, not a killer. Maybe it was the Entity. Damn thing seems to toy with her more than the rest. Maybe it was trying to keep her as a monster to make her a permanent Killer. Well nuts to that! He ain't letting that happen. Granted, he can't run off to look for her without the chance of being attacked by one or more of the monsters. Not like he can't handle them. But there are the rare few that even he can not power his way through. Like that one that got him in the woods...Shape...that thing is like a tank. You can punch a tank but it's only going to hurt you more. Or the Huntress. He's never taken on a woman before in a real fight yet that freaky fish is solid muscle wielding hatches and an ax. Yeah...fuck that fish bitch and her stupid humming. Still, there had to be something he could do other than look into the foggy woods while pacing like a dog waiting for someone to come home. He just didn't know what that something was, much to the unease of the group.

Suddenly there's a shift of the wind. The fog appears to pool within the safety of the camp. They knew what this was, a human was dead and coming back. The dead always returning in fog while the living run back on their own, except the ones that escape in the hatch. Either way, David was quick to rush to the form emerging from the darkness. She was still for a few moments once her body reformed. But when she gasped to life, it was obvious that something happened again to shake her to the core. As much as wanted to do something, a part of him told him to give her a moment, and yet the other part of him wanted to...

"D-David?"

Why did his name sound good in her voice?

"Welcome back, Luv. Miss me?"

He never really had friends. Not real ones, anyway. He had an entourage. A group of sods enjoying the high life with his credit card. If you were to ask them if he was good with women, they'd laugh and tell you he's too much of a shithead to keep one for long. They'd be eating those words if they saw this. him offering his hand to her like a gentleman and she sincerely smiling.

"Yeah...I did."

She takes his hand and he figures it's now or never to seal the deal before something else happens to take her away. He pulls her to her feet and away from camp...into the woods. Not that anyone seemed to stop this.

"David? What are you doing?"

"No worries, Luv. Trust me."

He leads her not too far from the camp. Just far enough to be hidden by the fog but close enough to make a quick retreat if something is wandering about.

"Dude, what is up? Because I'm not in a good mood for messed up shit right now."

So something did happen. Better go about this with the utmost caution, care, and respect. So what pray tell is the move he aims to use? Well he goes for the very sweet...Grab the face and smooch move. Because that never fails to sweep the ladies off their feet and let her know she's yours. This couldn't possibly bite him in the ass.

...She breaks the kiss and punches his shoulder rather hard, enough to make her knuckles pop.

"The fuck are you doing?!"

Is...Is she serious? Has she been blind to his past advances?

"Ya 'ave no idea 'ow much I've missed ya."

She gives him a funny look.

"David, my guy, gonna be real right now. I like you. You're a decent guy and I respect you. But I was just royally fucked up and I'd thank you kindly if you'd just not hit on me for the next couple minutes. Please?"

Damn it, how can he say no to her for being honest?

"Alright. I'll lay off for now."

She frowns slightly.

"Wanna...Hold me for a bit?"

Compromise? Accepted! He takes her into his arms and she snickers thinking him silly. Yet she nestles into him, enjoying the comfort.

"This good?"

"Yeah. This is nice. ...Did you really miss me that much?"

He strokes her hair.

"Is that 'ard to believe?"

"I wasn't gone that long."

"To me ya were."

"Heh...That was cheesy."

"It ain't easy bein' cheesy."

"*giggles* Oh my god..."

She gives his cheek a quick peck.

"You're such a dork."

She's being affectionate? Maybe she's become comfortable now. This deserves a test.

"Luv..."

"Hmmm?"

This time he goes for a less forceful approach. A gentle tilt of the head, a soft caress of the cheek, a slow lean in for the kiss, and say something as fancy as his name.

"I want ya."

Brilliant!

She exhales from her nose and slips out of his hold.

"Sorry. But I don't know you well enough or have the feelings to do what you want of me. Besides...I'm not here just for you or your needs."

Damn it! Why is this so hard?!

"Fine. Ya want to know me better? Ya know I come from money, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I was disowned."

"...Why?"

"I beat the shit out of my old man."

"The hell you did that for?"

"Because the bastard was goin' beat my mum."

Her expression looks like she was hit.

"It was one thin' when 'e'd go after me. But I'd be damned if that cocksucker touched 'er. I'll never understand why she stayed with 'im."

"David...I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It ain't worth feelin' bad about."

"But..."

He goes for a kiss and sticks the landing...on her forehead.

"It's sweet of ya to care, Luv. Really it is."

If at first you don't succeed, sway them using tragic personal information of a sympathetic nature.

"It's your turn. I told ya somethin' to better know me. Now ya tell me somethin' to better know ya."

Her face blanks.

"There's nothing to really know. I'm as basic and boring as you can get."

"Really? Ya can't think of just one thin' ya can trust me with? Ya know I'm not one to blather on to anybody but ya."

"There's not much to tell that I haven't already."

"Come on..."

"What do you want me to say?! How I was conceived to save a failing marriage? How in the seventh grade three boys tried to assault me and all the school gave me for compensation were museum tickets, which, I still have back home? That I've attempted to end myself multiple times? And as of recent, that I'm a pawn in a twisted game I can't figure out how to play. There! That good enough for you?"

The heck is she going off for?

"Oi! Don't get your nips in a twist."

"Then don't hound me!"

"Look, thin's ain't that bad once ya get used to them. the trials..."

"I wasn't talking about the trials!"

Her body began to tremble and she held her head in pain, eyes tearing up. Maybe now wasn't the best time to try moving things out of the friend-zone.

"Luv, I didn't mean to..."

"No...No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to explode like that. Not on you. *sigh* I don't want to take things out on you. It's just...I'm so messed up right now."

Doing something smart, he lets her go. Better luck next time. For now she needs space and for him to be her buddy.

"Anythin' I can do to make ya feel better?"

She steps around a bit, fidgeting with uncertainty.

"Want me to leave ya be?"

She stops.

"Could we...stay here a bit longer? Maybe tell dumb stories for the hell of it?"

That made him smile.

"Sure."

He sits down and pats the spot beside him. Her attitude does a 180°, practically jumping to his side and getting all close. Maybe she was making it up to him for snapping. Because when he took the chance of putting his arm around her waist she didn't tell him off or move it.

"Sorry again for being a bitch."

"You're fine, Luv. I don't blame ya. Couldn't 'ave been easy out there with them monsters."

She rests her head on his shoulder.

"Can we not get into that, please?"

"Sure thin', Luv. Just relax and let me take care of ya."

A soft coo-like sigh leaves her.

"Thanks, David."

"Anytime."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Did you, I don't know, bring me out here to fool around or some junk?"

David has a choice here, he can either lie to play it cool or be honest...He picks the latter.

"Not gonna lie...Was hopin' to get some snoggin' action with ya."

She slaps his knee playfully.

"I so called it."

"Heh, am I that easy to read?"

"I'd say like a book but you're more of a comic strip, complete with pictures and action bubbles."

"But can ya blame me?"

"Nah. You've made it clear that you like me. Wanting more isn't something to feel bad about. Just let me deal with my crap and then I'll be okay with thinking about normal stuff...like macking on tough Brits."

A playful smirk comes to him. This is a different kind of fight, yet one he believes he can still win. She wants time? Time is all any of them have. He can afford to wait. You can bet on that. Always bet on King.

[ELSEWHERE IN THE FOG]

Chops finally made it back to Mount Ormond Resort and relinquishes control of the body to Bones. This was more stressful than he was willing to deal with for a moment longer. So his ghostly ass makes its way for the second floor to unwind. Meanwhile the other three try to deal with what has happened.

"well that went about as well as expected."

{it is not like we did not get the things we wanted out of it.}

Dead Eye muses behind his leader much to Bones' disgust.

"are you referring to the doc treating her or that shit you got chops to do?"

Dead Eye's grin stretches wide.

{both.}

Bones groans.

"that's exactly the kind of shit that makes me not give you the body."

{you act as though i do not get results. she needed to be taught a lesson. pets need to know their place.}

Bones rubs his sockets as Dead Eye chuckles to himself, moving to another part of the room.

{denial does not suit you, bones. you were having just as much of a good time as we were.}

Bones slumps against his seat.

"*mumble* freaks..."

{um...bones?}

Boo fiddles with his hands timidly.

"what?"

{uh...so...did the doctor do anything we went there for?}

A good legitimate question.

"from what i could tell. he scraped a bunch of junk out of those scars. if they didn't refill when she died then she's probably got some more time than she did before. which is good for us."

{because she'll be cooperative in trials?}

"that and it gives us more time to train her..."

{i knew you were into it.}

Dead Eye mocks and Bones snarls.

"train her to use her power, you crazy bastard!"

Dead Eye laughs to himself. Bones goes back to ignoring he exists, thankful that Boo was so normal by comparison.

{are you sure we can do it?}

"ugh...we don't have much choice. if she corrupts completely before we get our rights than we look like idiots for trying. and then we'll never get respected by those assholes."

{when should we start?}

Bones pauses for thought.

"let's give it a go the feed cycle after next. meeting up again so soon after this shit won't be good for either of us."

{sounds good.}

"and you're teaching her."

This shocks Boo.

{w-what?}

"you know damn well why. if it helps, i'll switch with you if needed."

{okay...thanks.}

"don't thank me. we both know we can't trust those two to do it."

{i don't know. chops was doing okay till...yeah...nevermind.}

{you fear that which you do not understand...}

Dead Eye pops up behind Boo and the poor guy jumps across the room.

{fear is the path to acceptance. fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to denial, denial leads to bargaining, bargaining leads to depression, and depression leads to acceptance. so while you fear me now, i know that one day...you will be just like me!}

{no! i'll never be like you!}

{search your feelings; you know it to be true.}

{no!}

Bones cringes. He's surrounded by insane dorks.

{hey, fuck-face...}

Chops calls out from above.

"what, ass-clown?!"

{...why do ya think the quack was collecting that soul shit?}

To that Bones had no answer. Gaster is a crafty enigma. His twisted logic can lead to many paths, most of which are insane and convoluted. Though what he said is something to dwell on. Can her soul really be their ticket out of here? So many questions. So little answers.

[moneyshvt]

☆ . · . simay barlas, twenty-two, female, she / her . · . ☆ AYLA CLEARWATER lives in that huge mansion over there! no, not that one. look for THE LARGE NATURAL STONE FOUNTAIN and that’ll be it. the SPORTS PHOTOGRAPHER has offered occasional glimpses of LIGHT GREEN walls and an impressive collection of EMPTY PICTURE FRAMES in the background of social media posts, but all of that is nothing compared to seeing the opulence in person. they’ve remained CLEVER as ever since moving to tercet court one year ago, but it seems like they might’ve gotten a little more of NARCISSISTIC too. maybe that’s why they’re rumored to have such a FRIENDLY relationship with everyone else who lives on this street. ☆ . · . ooc info: ollie, they/them, 21, est . · . ☆

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘

— she was adopted when she was just under two years old from turkey, so the clearwaters have always felt like her family to her. she knew the greater part of growing up that she was adopted, it just never was an issue for her. it was a fact, but it really wasn’t an important fact. she has no desire to try to find her birth parents or family, though she has visited turkey.

—  the clearwaters are a triple threat in sports : her grandfather retired mlb player and coach, her father a retired prominent defenseman in the nhl and current dartmouth men’s hockey coach, and her older brother ( 26 ) is making a splash in his third year in the nfl as a wide receiver.  however, her parents made sure she and her brother had a ( fairly ) average “middle class” bringing up, though they had their fair share of money in the bank. didn’t have to struggle, really, but didn’t get everything she wanted either. had a summer job scooping ice cream for two years in high school.

— grew up in norwich, vt, real big on nature and hiking and all that jazz and lowkey misses it in the heart of la.

— when she was ten she got one of those kid’s polaroid cameras ( u know the ones where the film is only a little bigger than a postage stamp ) and she was obsessed. she worked her way up through cameras over the years, having a natural eye for it.

— one of the first games she ever shot was one of her brother’s high school football games which sounds sweet but it was actually because she was so bored out of her mind and wanted something to do. needless to say, though, that was the start of it. some might say it was kind of inevitable she gravitated toward sports somehow — she was a clearwater at heart. since then she has gained a lot of knowledge and respect for all different kinds of sports.

— for college she was torn between dartmouth and nyu. she ultimately chose nyu because it was somewhere new.

— she went to nyu for advertising and photography, shooting various nyu sports teams while she was there and throughout her years, managed to shoot a few rangers, knicks, and yankees games as well. she held two summer internships with the yankees ( on her own merits or because of her family name, she may never truly know ) and ultimately graduated from nyu a year early.

— she then spent the better part of a year after graduation road tripping as you do and ended up in california. it’s all about who you know, and in picking up a favor for a friend in cali she stumbled into the perfect opportunity. from there she landed a role on the company that handles the photography for staples center and other notable teams, most notably the kings, lakers, and dodgers ( photography company based on this irl one ).

— she moved into tercet court not long after she knew she would be in la for much of the time being. it’s definitely not her house, considering she makes just enough to live on. it’s a family home, purchased initially by her father who’d wanted to sink some money into tangible assets instead of the stock market and to have a west-coast home available for the family. hey, worked out pretty well for her.

— she has predominately been tasked with shooting the kings the past year or so, though she started with shooting dodgers games last summer and is doing so this summer as well. she’s also shot a handful of lakers’ games when a friend needs someone to cover. three of her photos so far have been used in large ads and banners in the city ( including most recently her current MONEY SHOT of the game winning goal in a come back win ) --- very cool moment for her. several others have been used by local publications and websites.

— she does a little freelance work as well ; mostly for friends or friends of friends, though she’s been considering lately trying to make her skills and business available in a more professional manner. she does do a lot of photographing for herself --- a lot of candids ; she thinks they capture the true spirit of a person moreso than when they’re posing or prepared for a photo. but not in a creepy way --- she’s been the victim of the paps enough times by association with her family to know the correct boundaries and limits.

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂

— lowkey loves playing games with the paps, though she’s probably the only one that finds it funny. as a photographer herself she has a good eye for where they’re hiding and will also snap photos of them in turn just for her own amusement.

— she hopes someday to be the team photographer for a team, hopefully in one of the “big four” ( nfl, nhl, nba, mlb )

— she played field hockey and lacrosse through high school.

— ayla thinks she’s better at shooting people. part of what she loves about being a sports photographer is how active and unpredictable it is to shoot a game. she’s had to learn a lot to try to predict what she can.

— very much a morning person. has never had a problem waking up in the morning. who’s jealous bc i am. goes for a run at sunrise, and has showered, gotten ready for the day, and is at a local cafe shop editing photos / making graphics and drinking an iced mocha by 8. truly couldn’t be me...

— so desperately wants to be that girl with tons of cute aesthetic plants in her apartment but tragically plants always die in her care no matter what she does. probably has gotten one of those tiny tabletop sand zen gardens to make herself feel better tho she still keeps trying with plants. so far the only ones that have lived any length of time are the air plants.

— she really wants a greyhound but is afraid to make the commitment to actually adopting one.

— her personal insta ( the non-sports one ) has a modest following. a few thousand, probs.

— she has struggled a bit with people who think her opportunities have only arisen because of her family pedigree ( which some have gone so far to tell her they’re “not her family” --- which, don’t even go there, lads... ), and that has made ayla work all that much harder to prove that she’d gotten where she has on her own merits.

— she has a rule ( and in the case of the nhl there is a rule enforced by a signed contract ) about not getting involved with anyone she shoots ; it’s considered a conflict of interest. i imagine she has a really good relationship with the players though --- probably doesn’t hurt that she is pretty. at least one of them have hired her to shoot their wedding this summer even though she is wildly under qualified.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

alya is a chill and laidback person at heart. her approach to the fame attached to her due to her father and brother has been to laugh it off good-naturedly. she’s generally well liked, with a hint of sass and humor. she comes across as a bit of an air-head at times, but that’s part due to a persona she put on from a young age. she has an observant eye that drew to her photography in the first place and will often allow her to draw certain conclusions about people. she’s well versed in all the sports she shoots, something that tends to surprise a lot of people, but how is she supposed to be good at her job if she isn’t ? if she gets bothered during games she typically shuts people down with wide eyes and some obscure bit of knowledge in her cute, raspy lil voice. dareisay... elle woods, what like it’s hard ? energy ??

a few of her downfalls include her narcissism and need to be liked. she looks to look and feel pretty, by her own standards, and is a queen of the self-timer and remote self photography : has two instas because of it -- one for her sports photography and one that’s a “personal” and mostly just pictures of herself. her need to be liked is something she doesn’t even realize. she likes to be seen in a positive light.

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

alya stands at 5′4″ with a slim but athletic build. her hair is naturally brown, but is dyed to have blonde highlights. she does not need glasses or contacts and has no tattoos.

she’s almost always wearing the same pair of beat up timberland’s she’s owned since freshman year of college. she likes to be able to move easily ( bc homegirl absolutely cannot walk in heels at all ). despite what the tabloids like to call her unfortunate choice in footwear, she likes to look cute, often pairing them with short, flowy sundresses or skirts + crop tops. when she shoots games, however, she’s dressed rather practically in skinny jeans, a crop top, and a cardigan. her hair is often kept down and loose, or in a messy bun.

𝐎𝐎𝐂

it me. ollie again. i also play fitz ( miguel bernardeau fc ). yes the overlap between fitz and ayla is not great but i truly only know one thing that that one thing is hockey asldfalsdjf sO. if y’all seeing me rping with myself on the dash bc i think it’d be fun to bounce fitz and ayla off each other mind ur own business...

[365daysoftododeku]

30th May 2019

Author: CrzA

Author’s Note: I would just like to mention that this idea was inspired by @dominaecaede​‘s comic Woe of The Heart when I started thinking of what it would be like to have the exact opposite quirk hit Shouto. Also, @altered-karma came up with the name Ultragram!

________________________________________________________________

Love Yourself

As hero interns, they had to be prepared for anything that might be thrown at them. Izuku thought he had the tools to be ready for whatever might happen out on the field; his training, his analytical prowess, his strength, all of it honed over the year and a half he had already spent at U.A. alongside his classmates. A thief shouldn’t have given him alone much trouble, much less him and Todoroki together under the guise of one of Japan’s finest.

For all intents and purposes… they caught the guy. Though, it seemed like he had an unusual quirk and didn’t go down without first leaving his mark.

Todoroki had been the one to capture him. He was cautious, just like they had been trained to do whenever facing someone with an unknown quirk, but all it took was one puff to his face when the guy twisted around while Todoroki was restraining him. They didn’t even have to demand the thief tell them what he’d done as Todoroki stumbled backwards, falling onto his rear as he coughed up the red smoke the man had blown right into his nose and mouth.

“Have fun loving your mortal enemy, try that one on for size!” Miruko hadn’t hesitated to knock the guy out with a swift kick to the face and, for that, Izuku was kind of grateful.

He rushes to his friend’s side, frantic. If his interpretation of the man’s quirk was correct, then Todoroki should be feeling very differently about his father right about now. All Izuku wants is to get him out of the public eye as soon as possible, reeling at the possible consequences that may come with the masses finding out the messy history that comprised the Todoroki family. He knows that it could only bring his friend trouble, should the word get out. Izuku may not like it, but he respects Todoroki’s decision to keep it all to himself.

“Todoroki-kun,” He calls, voice a little strangled with apprehension. “Are you okay?”

Blinking a few times, Todoroki groans. “I’m fine, I think. That thing smells awful, he could use a breath mint…” He comments absently, rubbing at his face.

“Hey, um… weird question, but what do you think about Endeavor?” Izuku whispers before Miruko makes her way to them.

Todoroki’s features scrunch in confusion as his gaze finally clears and he narrows his eyes at him. “Who cares about that bastard?”

A wave of relief washes over Izuku then. Perhaps he had been wrong about what the quirk might be, or maybe it just takes a while to actually kick into effect, but for now, Todoroki seems to be just the same as usual. Or, so he thought. For the longest time, Todoroki just won’t stop staring at him, getting closer and closer to Izuku’s face while he freezes in place, eyes widening slightly.

“Midoriya…” Todoroki breathes, mismatched eyes locked with his own. “Your eyes… they’re… so big…”

“H-huh?” Izuku sputters, his heart lurching to his throat.

No, wait… does that mean that… Could it be that he ha— “I can… see my reflection in them. Don’t. Move.”

“H-huh?!”

Without warning, Todoroki grabs his face with both hands, pulling him ever closer and letting his lids fall half-closed. “How have I never noticed how beautiful I am? Look at that… I’m a work of art…”

“T-Todoroki-kun?!”

Izuku pushes away with a few unintelligible mutters, his mind racing at their previous proximity, and the initial shock sending him for a loop. Miruko is quick to make her way to them as well, after she has made sure the thief is truly out of commission and the police is ready to take him into custody. As Todoroki absently stares at himself in every reflective surface he can find, Izuku waits impatiently for a more detailed report on the guy’s quirk.

“Seems our little friend makes people love the one they most hate.” So, Izuku’s assumption had been right. “Only lasts a few hours and he won’t remember a thing, but it is quite intense, to the point where their target can drop everything to engage with their newfound obsession and…” She takes one long look at Todoroki and sighs, her eyes shining with sympathy. “I will escort you two back to your school. It wouldn’t do to leave you alone when he is this affected.”

“Yes, we’d appreciate that, thank you.” Izuku mumbles, casting his gaze to the floor as he takes a deep breath to stop any stray tears before they have the chance to actually make it down his face.

The ride to U.A. is spent in awkward silence, Todoroki’s eyes locking with his own mirror image as he touches his face in the glass, occasionally sighing dreamily at the sight of himself. Izuku does his best to avoid staring, but it doesn’t stop the pain from settling deep within his chest. Each self-obsessed gesture his friend engages in is a testament to what lies in his soul, what he hides from everyone around him; maybe even himself. And it hurts to even think that Todoroki carries these feelings with him wherever he goes, it hurts to see it so blatantly on display in such a ludicrous manner.

It only hurts more when they finally make it to the common room and their classmates play along with Todoroki’s antics, laughing heartily at the admittedly silly things he gets on to. They’re just looking at the surface level, not digging any deeper, because they don’t know what Todoroki has been through. Izuku isn’t supposed to, either; not technically. But Todoroki trusted him with his past, whether his intentions had been a little misguided at the time or not.

“Midoriya.” The reason for his distraction calls him back to reality and Izuku looks up at Todoroki blearily, blinking away the blur in his vision and hoping no tears escape the confines of his eyes. “Can you take a few pictures of me? I made an Ultragram to share my beauty with the world.”

Izuku pauses for a moment, looking from Todoroki’s phone up to his face, a lump forming in his throat as he tries to choke back a sob. Sniffling, he gives him a curt nod and takes the phone from his extended hand, unlocking it to turn on the camera. When he points it at his friend, he flashes him an easy smile that seems so awfully fake, completely devoid of any emotion whatsoever. He looks good with it, objectively speaking, but Izuku can’t help but hate it with a burning passion.

Todoroki’s smiles may be rare, but when he gives them, they are genuine, honest. That sincerity is what makes them so beautiful, so absolutely breath-taking. They are gifts for those who get to witness them, those who help bring them to his face. They soften all the edges of his usual hard expressions, fill his mismatched eyes with a brilliant light that warms Izuku’s heart whenever he has the pleasure to see it. Todoroki’s smiles are pure. They are nothing like this; vapid, empty.

A hiccup breaks through him and Izuku covers his mouth, muttering an apology before dropping the phone on the nearest table and pacing towards the elevators.

“Midoriya, wait!” At the sound of his friend’s voice, Izuku stops dead in his tracks, rubbing at his eyes and turning to him once more. “This last picture is blurry, could you take another one?”

Clenching his hands to fists and gritting his teeth, Izuku faces the other way and runs, taking the stairs three at a time to get to his room as quickly as possible. He slides down to the floor when he slams the door shut, hugging his knees to his chest and hiding his face behind them as he finally lets his anguish flow freely. He can’t bear to see Todoroki like this, it’s too painful, knowing the reason for it.

Their classmates may be enjoying it, but Izuku simply can’t find Todoroki’s hidden pain amusing, no matter how it may manifest. And maybe this makes him a bad friend, that he is choosing to run away and hide rather than be with him when he is suffering through a quirk’s effects. It might seem like he is fine, after all he isn’t at risk of hurting himself—quite the contrary, if anything. Still… he should be there for him, it’s just too painful.

It’s only a few hours and he’ll be back to normal.

Except… Izuku will still know. Just because Todoroki won’t be obsessed with himself anymore, the feelings that reversed into this exaggerated love will still remain. That self-hatred he holds so close he may not even be fully aware of it will still be there. Izuku can’t just forget that, and he can’t ignore it either.

Every time he looks into his friend’s eyes, he is going to see it, that overwhelming, irrational guilt that comes with living with abuse, the feeling that, on some level, it must be his fault any of it is even happening. Izuku knows those thoughts all too well and Todoroki had it so much worse. He should have known, he should have seen it and helped him see all the amazing things there are to love about him.

Todoroki is beautiful, inside and out, and he should love himself for it all. But not like this. Todoroki is kind and caring to all of his friends, pays so much attention to everyone around him that he can tell when something is off. He has noticed when Izuku was in pain so many times before, done anything he could to help him through that turmoil. This narcissistic shell of a person that can’t see beyond his own reflection isn’t him.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and Izuku wipes at his wet eyes before fishing for it. It’s a notification from Ultragram, telling him he was tagged in a photo in what he can only assume to be Todoroki’s new account. He frowns at the screen, at that fake, meaningless smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and removes the tag before throwing the phone onto his bed with a curse.

Not long after, a soft knock sounds at his door and Izuku debates pretending he didn’t hear it at all, but when Todoroki speaks from the other side, his heart squeezes in his chest. Shutting his eyes for a moment to brace himself, Izuku slowly picks himself up off the floor, not even bothering to make it look like he hadn’t just been crying. The way Todoroki is, he probably won’t even notice.

Sighing, Izuku opens the door just a crack, cringing when he sees Todoroki messing with his hair as he looks at himself with his front-facing camera.

“Oh,” Todoroki turns to Izuku after a few heartbeats, only then noticing that he was actually looking at him. “You removed yourself from the picture.” He says simply.

“Yeah.”

“But you took it.” He continues, brows furrowing slightly in confusion. “Plus, wouldn’t you like people to know you’re my friend? It could get you places.”

A bout of anger bubbles inside him at that insufferable thief but Izuku swallows it down. “It’s fine. I only need you to know I’m your friend.”

“Well, of course you are. I’m amazing, why wouldn’t you be my friend?”

Izuku’s lips pull to a taut line as he clenches his jaw. “You are amazing, Todoroki-kun.” He tells him firmly, voice strangled but determined to tell him the truth.

“I know.” Todoroki agrees without a second thought, turning back to his phone. “Anyway, I’ll see you later. Going to ask Ashido if she would like to use me as the face for her makeup tutorials. It’s bound to give her more views.”

“Sure thing…” Izuku murmurs as he watches him leave, blinking more tears away and slowly closing the door behind him then locking it.

Any plans he may have had for that day feel pointless; homework, training, dinner… Wordlessly, Izuku drags his feet to the bed and crashes onto it, curling in on himself and hoping that sleep can take mercy on his cracking heart. But of course, he isn’t so lucky. All he can do is cry quietly into his pillow, entirely losing track of time as he wallows in his sorrows. Todoroki doesn’t deserve this, he shouldn’t hate himself at all, let alone more than anyone else when Endeavor had treated him so poorly.

All Izuku wants to do is tell Todoroki how wonderful he thinks he is, how much he cares for him, and wants for him to be happy. Todoroki deserves that happiness and everything good the world has to offer. He deserves to be loved and cared for. Izuku would give him all of that in a heartbeat, he would love Todoroki tenfold to make up for all the years he has spent hating himself so much.

At that thought, Izuku jerks up, eyes widening with a sudden realisation.

Not having a second to waste, Izuku bolts off the bed, fumbling with the lock as he keeps wiping at his eyes and nose with shaking hands. He hardly notices whether he closes the door once he finally makes it into the hallway, running down the stairs to go to the girls’ side of the dorms to find Todoroki. Just as he is rushing to the stairs, a flash of red and white catches his eye and he slides into the nearest wall trying to stop his momentum on a tiled floor while wearing nothing but socks.

“Midoriya, are you okay?” Todoroki asks, his brows furrowing in concern as he walks closer, offering him a hand to help him up.

Izuku notices the confusion twisting his features as well, realising with a start that he looks entirely different from when he last saw him. Ignoring Todoroki’s hand entirely, Izuku jumps to his feet and throws his arms around his friend’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug and burying his face in the crook of his neck. From the way Todoroki’s whole body tenses, Izuku notes that he should have probably asked for permission first, but then he relaxes into his hold, wrapping his own arms around his waist.

“Todoroki-kun, you’re amazing and I hope you know how much I admire you.”

“Th-thanks?” It sounds a lot more like a question than anything else and Izuku feels his knees go a little weak with relief, grateful that he is holding on to Todoroki for support.

“Don’t ever think you are anything less than wonderful, don’t ever think you deserve anything less than the best things the world has to offer. You—” Izuku chokes on a sob and Todoroki’s embrace tightens around him.

“Midoriya, what’s wrong? Why are you saying all this?”

“Just… Please know that you are loved. You deserve to be loved, Todoroki-kun.”

“I… Okay… thank you, Midoriya.” Todoroki lets out a trembling breath that brushes past Izuku’s hair. “And the same goes for you, too.”

There is more that Izuku wants to tell him, but now is not the time. So, he just nods and mutters a quiet ‘thank you’ of his own, taking a risk and tangling his fingers in Todoroki’s hair to pull him closer still. He doesn’t pull away and Izuku’s heart stutters when he rubs his cheek against the side of his head in an affectionate touch. Eventually Izuku will be able to tell him how loved he really is. Hopefully soon.

________________________________________________________________

Would you like your work to be featured in the 365 Days of TodoDeku Project? Apply here! (≧∇≦)/

[centineoah-blog]

I Hate Everything About You - Part 1 (Noah Centineo)

She’s the daughter of Robert Downey Jr., struggling to find her own name in the industry, while he’s the internet’s collective crush, learning how to deal with his new-found fame. What happens when they get cast together in a TV adaptation of her favourite book series?

Word Count: 2.6 K

Pairings: Noah Centineo X Reader

Warnings: None as far as I’m aware, bit of love/hate if you're not into that, bit of drinking, spray tans, paparazzi

There is just something incredibly satisfying about kicking back, putting your feet up and lying in the sun, doing nothing at all. The sound of the waves crashing, little kids squealing all around and the sultry rays of the sun beating down on you, warming you up from within – it’s summer at its absolute best. Which is why, I’m sprawled out on a deck chair on Santa Monica Beach, California, sipping a Piña Colada – I’m only seventeen but here with my very lenient mother – With a pair of shades shielding my eyes and the rest of my bikini-clad body exposed, so as to work up a tan. Hard work, I know, since I’ve been at it for nearly four hours now and there isn’t even a toasty hint on my skin to show for it. My complexion is pasty and uneven, which I have no idea how because I’ve been in California all my life. The least I should have is beautiful, evenly bronzed skin.

Ugh, I think in frustration, I should’ve just gotten one of those terrible, orange, spray tans to match the president. At least they’re easy to get.

Correction to my earlier statement, then – There is just something incredibly satisfying about kicking back, putting your feet up and lying in the sun, doing nothing at all, when you’re capable of tanning! My back is stiff and I’m sweating like a pig, as there is hardly any wind today. The humidity has resulted in my hair going beyond frizzy and I’m completely unrecognizable, so at least there is no chance of any paparazzi getting candid shots of me and making them viral with headlines like- ‘Y/N Downey shows off sexy bikini bod!’ Or something equally ridiculous.

Now, I said ‘unrecognizable’ and ‘paparazzi’ so you must be wondering what the hell that’s about. No, no, I’m not some narcissistic bitch with an absurdly high opinion of herself. Although, you aren’t that far off. Let me explain.

My name is Y/N Downey. I’m an up-and-coming actress although people hardly refer to me as that. Generally, people know me as the only daughter of Robert Downey Jr., one of America’s most successful and famous movie actors, and I’m not just saying this cause he’s my father. You might also know him as Iron Man but to me, he’s just dad.

Obviously, since my father is ‘the great Robert Downey Jr.’ everyone just naturally expects me to be a stuck-up, spoilt brat who gets everything handed to her on a silver platter. They think it’s all a piece of cake for me, that I don’t have to work for making a name for myself since my father has so conveniently made it for me.

Wrong.

To this day, my father has never pulled any strings or called in favours to get me a part. In fact, that was his one and only condition when I expressed that I wanted to take up acting as a profession. He made me promise that I’d never use his name to get my way and work hard on my own to achieve something. Luckily, and not to be too full of myself or anything, but I’m a good actor. I suppose it has something to do with being in my dad’s company, since it can’t be genes. That’s because I’m adopted, and the Downeys are the only family I have ever known.

Anyway, every single role that I have done until now, I’ve got it through legit auditions in stinky and badly lit rooms. Mr. Downey has never influenced any aspect of my career. So, you see, I’m just another teenaged girl with a big dream. Okay, that might be an exaggeration. But except for the fact that my dad is a big movie star and I live in an unreasonably large house, and have more cars than I could possibly want to drive and I’ve never been to a public school – whaddup, homeschooling! – Really, I’m just the same as your typical teenaged girl.

So that’s my story. Now let’s get back to the present day. It was all my mother’s stupid idea.

“We never spend any quality time together.” She’d cooed the night before. “How about we head to the beach tomorrow? You could sunbathe.” She’d added temptingly and like the idiot that I am, I was sold by the allure of a tan. 

Hence, my discomfort now. Hell, last night I’d even thought I’d go for a nice little swim down here.

My brain wanders off on its own trail – Is this day ever going to end?! And what the heck is up with the sun? Move a bit dude, go shine your bright face in someplace they need it.

I groan in irritation.

My mother snaps her head to me. She pushes up her sunglasses to her head and glares at me. 

“If you’re so annoyed, you shouldn’t have come.” She growls.

“You made me.” I mutter quietly.

“I didn’t make you do anything.”

“Of course you did. You held up tanning like a bait and you knew I’ve always wanted to –” I’m cut off by the sound of my phone ringing. I fish it out of my bag.

“Ava!” I’m met with a shrill but pleasant greeting from my agent, Joanna.

“Hey Jo!”

“So guess the best thing that could’ve possibly happened?”

That’s how Joanna Preston always talked. Whatever you wanted to find out, you guessed. I think she’s incapable of forming non-interrogative sentences. It gets annoying a lot of the times.

“Um, everything in the world is made of chocolate?” I ask, unsure.

Joanna laughs. “No. Hint – it has something to do with Colors.”

My heart stops. There’s only one reason Joanna’s calling me about Colors.

“Someone’s making a movie about it?” I breathe in disbelief.“Better.”

What’s better than a movie?

“Someone’s making two movies about it?” I question dubiously.

“Someone’s making a TV Series about it.” She states firmly. Oh, non-interrogative! Perhaps there is hope for her yet.

A little gasp escapes my lips.

The Colors trilogy is my favourite book series in the world!

“And guess who the best agent in the whole wide world is?” She’s back, ugh, never mind.

“You, obviously.” I say rolling my eyes.

“That’s right!” She exclaims. “And guess who landed the lead?”

My jaw pops open.

“Me? They just gave it to me? No auditions or screen tests?” I ask, disbelieving.

“Yeah!” She squeals.

I furrow my brows, not quite understanding where this was all going. Joanna must’ve been able to sense my apprehension because she promptly launches into an explanation.

“Apparently they loved you on Teen Wolf and they wanted a new and fresh face, so they decided you’d be perfect. I’ve managed to find out that they’ve practically finalised you but of course, they’d still like you to show up and read some lines but that’s purely formal. The part is yours!”

I did a two-episode cameo in the third season of Teen Wolf and it was received very well. More importantly, it resulted in me becoming friends with Tyler Posey. He is pure perfection.

A dumbass grin spreads over my entire face.

“Do you know who’s playing Mason yet?”

Mason is my almost-character, Ali’s love interest in the books.

“Yeah, but he’s in the same condition as you. In fact, I suppose they’ll be asking both of you to go down there together.”

“Who is it, though?” I can’t contain my excitement.

“Noah Centineo.”

I almost fall out of my deck chair.

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

It’s been nearly two weeks since I found out I’m almost playing Alison in the TV Series adaptation of Colors and today, I’m going to be finalized. Or I’m hoping to be, since I’ve been called down today for my ‘audition’ and I’m absolutely thrilled and raring to just go down there and bag it. A couple of days ago, the producers contacted my agent, Joanna, and gave them the final dates for the trial. Also, just as Joanna had predicted, Noah Centineo, is being called in to audition for Mason and we’re auditioning together. I must say, that, I’m not thrilled about. 

I’m not exactly sure why I get hostile at just the thought of this guy and somewhere in my head, a rational voice answers that it’s because of how much I love this character. Mason Scott is my favourite fictional character and if some douchebag with cool hair messes it up, then as a loyal fan, I have every right to have a vendetta against him. It could be that he’s the biggest actor at the moment, answers the rational voice again but I ignore it. Of course it had to be him. I am sick of seeing him everywhere, and how everyone is obsessed with him. Honestly, how is it that someone who literally just blew up overnight, lands a role as big as Mason Freaking Scott?! He must have pulled in some serious favours. 

It suddenly dawns on me, then, that he would probably be thinking the same thing about Robert Downey Jr.’s daughter getting the lead – that it wasn’t my skill that got me this part. I quickly brush it off.

“Blue or beige?” I hold up two identical blouses, trying to decide which one to wear to the audition.

“Definitely the beige. Wear the brown skirt with it.” My mother comments from her spot on my bed.

My mother and I had a tiff about this role earlier, since it’s gonna have a fair bit of nudity in, but I’m happy to tell you that I was able to finally get through to her about how big this role is for my career.  Everybody’s excited to see a reboot.

My dad helped as well, explaining the whole situation to my earlier apprehensive mother and now she’s supporting me whole-heartedly. Or she’s pretending to, but either way, I’m glad she’s accepted that I’m going to do this and that she’s really cool about it. 

I, on the other hand, am a sack full of nerves right now. I might appear to be confident and, quoting my own self ‘raring to go’, but on the inside I’m. Freaking. Out. It’s like a dream role and I do not want to mess this up in any way. I don’t want the makers to have second thoughts about casting me; I don’t want to give them any reason to so much as even think about someone else. And obviously, that leaves zero room for error on my part. None. Nada.

So, clearly, there’s no pressure!

My head is pounding as I walk into the studio, script in hand. The audition is the part when Mason first takes Ali to his apartment and tells her about his lifestyle and what he does for a living, letting her know what she’s in for if she agrees to be with him. I know all my lines by heart and my dear friend, Tyler, and I have been through them almost a hundred times but it’s still a rather difficult scene if you consider the acting side of it because it really shows Ali’s innocence and her willingness to step into the dark with Mason.

Speaking of, where the hell is this overrated hero?! I’d really like it if I could just run through these lines with him at least once before the main audition.

I’m walking around the studio with an expression that says I own the place because people keep stepping out of my way, when, really, all I’m doing is being annoyed as I try to find my arrogant co-auditioner.

Yeah, yeah, I know it’s a bit premature calling him arrogant. Seriously though? Who on earth would just waltz in there and read their lines with an unknown person, for the first time, to audition for the role of a lifetime? An arrogant person, that’s who, because even I am willing to swallow my pride and look for this brat for a little practice.

I somehow end up walking to the kitchen, well not somehow because I could murder a coffee right now, and surprise, surprise, Mr. Centineo is sitting right there with his posse. I stop dead in my tracks as soon as our eyes meet and he stares at me for several seconds, not blinking. And then, slowly, he raises a brow as he gives me a relaxed, deliberate once-over.

And it pisses me off.

Like, I know I’m looking nice right now but seriously dude, I’m about to be your goddamned co-star! Show a little respect, for god’s sake!

To be honest though, I don’t even know why I’m so offended. Maybe it’s his gorgeous hair. I notice that there are three other guys sat next to him and I assume those are his ‘buddies’; they look the type – all dude bro-ish in their stupid hoodies and ripped, skinny jeans. Not that I have anything personal against hoodies or ripped, skinny jeans. Or dude-bros, for that matter. But I wasn’t told I could bring my friends.

Ass.

Finally regaining my ability to walk, I make a bored face as if I audition for huge shows every day, and then head straight to the counter off the side of the room, ignoring him completely. Behind me, I hear snickers and hushed voices as I’m pouring my coffee in a paper cup. I roll my eyes.

Grow up, boys.

I dump two packets of sugar and stir it vigorously. Putting on the lid, I turn around and my coffee is knocked out of my hand.

“ARGH!! The fudge!” I growl.

I’m surprised at my ability to control myself. I had a whole variety of choice expletives I could’ve used in this situation. I look up and standing in front of me is the newest bane of my existence. And he’s smirking.

I reward him with the stoniest face I can manage.

“Hey, I’m Noah.” He says and okay, I’ll admit it, his voice is So. Hot. 

No! I’m furious right now, I can’t think about that. What the hell is he playing at? I need an apology.

“You spilled my coffee.” I mutter in quiet fury as I point out his first misdemeanour.

“Whoa woah, not the friendly type, are you?”

“I suppose I wouldn’t be either if my dad was Iron Man.” He adds with a snigger. My jaw pops open.

How dare he?!

Strike Two. I’m overwhelmed by how much I want to break his pretty little jaw.

“What the hell?! You have no right to say that.” I yell.

Further to my irritation, he grins – teeth and all. Perfectly straight, white teeth and all. But, anyway.

“What?” I snap.

“You’re fiery.” He remarks in amusement and the next thing I know is a sharp, stinging feeling in the palm of my hand and Centineo’s shocked expression.

Okay, so I might’ve slapped him.

Before I can react or try to apologise – not that I was going to, he clearly had three strikes, but it’s the thought that counts – I get a call from Joanna.

“Y/N, they’re calling you in now. Stage 36.” 

“I’m coming.”

“If you see Noah on the way, let him know they want him too.”

“I haven’t seen him.” I bark as I hang up.

I walk around Noah Centineo in a huff and he stares after me, dumbstruck, as I walk out the door, still holding the cheek that holds proof of my assault.

Now how’s that for ‘fiery’?

Part 2

[fire-is-alive]

Sometimes I wish I was the person I am now a year ago but every version of ourselves serves a purpose. I was an extremely soft version of myself, immersed in a spiritual and emotional warfare. I genuinely wanted no suffering, even for all those who had hurt and wronged me. This was a necessary step to bring me down to the lowest point. To reach a transcendent state of suffering. To lose everything about myself and see the big, big picture.

So I was there, the "enlightened" path, as you will. It was what needed to be done and the most peaceful, educated path. Wrath would have gotten me nowhere.

And the current version would see it similarly but have no problem telling a person to genuinely fuck off. Sometimes the most appropriate thing to say is "fuck you" and leave it be. Heal without all the extra fluff. Let things go the way they're supposed to be.

But integration has been the most necessary step. To solidify the ego at this biological turning point. I really like the direction. A motherfucker who is both soft and hard. Who struggles with discipline but sure as hell still excels, even among people who don't have ADHD. It doesn't make me "better", but it helps ME reach the heights of ambition I had ignored because of fear, insecurity, and lack of self love. Every step has been a necessary one. And shit, sometimes it DOES feel good to say "I am better than you". Even though its really not true at the deepest core of everything. But as a masculine dude with an unkillable drive, its good to say I can fucking beat you at everything because I have the discipline and willpower to take it all. I have very few addictions and one of those addictions I have is to reach my potential. It becomes an obsession. So we replace our bad addictions to good ones. With a penchant for self awareness, we can reign it in when it gets too crazy.

I sound extremely egotistical. Even narcissistic. I don't care. I'm confident. Most of the time. I love myself enough to know I am capable of great heights. Thats how much I love myself now. I couldn't say that for any other time in my life. So I don't give a shit how self obsessed it sounds. Nobody knows my life or what I've been through for the meaning of self love to mean THIS much.

I have so much passion within me. I feel fire, I have a love for life. An energy and lifeforce I have never felt. Hell nah, I ain't sorry for it. And neither should anyone else. We should support each others biggest dreams and ambitions. Use it for good. That's what I think. The world would be a better place.

[shivammurari13]

DECODING REPUTATION - A think-piece

We’re so accustomed to albums being just a collection of songs put together that this album comes as a breeze of freshness when it tells a rather cohesive and complete story both content-wise and sonically (sorry Red fans!) 

The album starts with a summary, a preface or a prologue, whatever word you like, in the form of ...Ready For It. Taylor has a reputation of a villain at this point. Someone who plays the victim, dates a lot of guys, is manipulative and calculative and is most unabashedly unapologetic. So, Taylor locks horns with this reputation of hers and says, 

But if I'm a thief then He can join the heist And we'll move to an island-

This showcases how she’s owning up to her reputation and is setting a rather dark metaphor which is very different from what she’s done in the past. She’s the antiheroine looking for her antihero. The chorus, however, is as beautiful as it gets and that represents how the heart (which remained breakable within the cold hard shell) eventually broke out of it's shell. 

The first chapter begins with End Game. End Game is actually about another lover, not the antihero she was talking about in ...Ready For It. At least I think so. She wanted to be the End Game of this other person in the first chapter of this novel. Her emotions are currently being drowned down in her reputation. What she cleverly does is play on the pun "End Game", which basically means that she wants to be her boyfriend's last partner. She wants to marry and settle down with him, but her reputation precedes her and in rumors she's knee deep. That's where the pun is. The game ended where is started. It was doomed to begin with.

The next two songs are the darkest songs on the album and probably the darkest songs she has ever written. I Did Something Bad is about a narcissistic person, it doesn’t matter whether s/he was a love interest or not. They are adding to the trouble she is already having because of her reputation. I like how she is completely comfortable and confident about what she’s doing. In this song, she doesn’t care what picture the narcissists are painting of hers. She just cares about how she’s feeling so good even though they are saying she did something bad. Brilliant touch. I don’t want to talk about who inspired this song because Taylor considers that to be trivialization of her art but I think this line says a lot: But if he drops my name, then I owe him nothin’ .  This song is easily one of the best on the album and probably will go down in history of great pop songs if it is ever released as a single. Love the witch metaphor. Before leading us into the legendary track 5, Taylor discusses her vulnerability in Don’t Blame Me. The comparison may be cliched but the helplessness in the song doesn’t allow one to lose interest. Delicate is simply delicate. Taylor, who had turned a deaf ear to other people’s opinions so far, is found being insecure because she feels that her love might actually be believing at least some of them. Even though she herself doesn’t care, her near and dear ones plausibly caring about it could be alarming.

Look What You Made Me Do is easily the weakest track on the album. I don’t understand why it was the lead single. Not only is it sonically redundant, it is also lyrically weak. A later song on the album on a similar topic would have easily been a better lead single, if that is what she wanted. Despite its shortcomings though, the song fits in well in the album. It talks about how something new was added to her already dwindling reputation and how she finally killed her old self, shed her old skin and came out anew. So it goes... adds to that narrative well. Both of them did terrible things, intentionally or otherwise. Both said they weren't keeping count of who did what, but they were, which has been showcased in this rather smart bridge:

I did a number on you But, honestly, baby, who's counting? You did a number on me But, honestly, baby, who's counting? Who's counting? 1, 2, 3

Gorgeous is then thrown into this whole dwindling equation and bringing a rollercoaster into her dramatic life (drama definitely loves her!), as she starts falling for someone else.

Getaway Car is another song that could become legendary if it is ever launched as a single. It has some of the best sonic moments, best arrangements and best lyrics ever written by Swift. The metaphors are brilliant. The deep cuts are only helped by the retro sound of it. The girl who was still fluctuating in her relationship, which started in a Getaway Car in the first place (so now we know why it was doomed right from the start), uses the same to get away from him. 

A significant amount of time has passed since the time she got away from her ex-boyfriend and she’s currently obsessing over the gorgeous man she met the other day. But it’s not that easy. She has had a rather tough time. It would literally need a much stronger reason to get into a relationship again. But she eventually gives in to him in King of My Heart. In Dancing With Our Hands Tied, she confesses her feelings for him while constraining herself. She takes an alternative approach towards relationship this time. She wants it to stay an intimate secret.

Dress, while having it’s obvious sensuality (loving it, by the way), is also very vulnerable, flirty and comfortable. She gains confidence with this one. It is another one of the finest tracks on the record. She's happy again and guess what we do when we are finally comfortable again in our skin after a BIG tragedy? We laugh at those who tried to make it tough and thank those who loved and protected us through it. Which is what This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things is all about. This is easily a more badass and catchier song than Look What You Made Me Do and I believe it should have been chosen as the lead single.

Having done that, she settles into the arms of her man and becomes completely oblivious to all the shit that she had to go through and doesn't care about what others say. She tells them- Call It What You Want. It is the You're In Love equivalent of this album, except that she’s singing for herself this time. Best lyric to reflect this?

I'm laughing with my lover Making forts under covers 

Specially because this song starts with a reflection on how her castle crumbled overnight. But magnanimous, enviable, gaudy castles don’t matter to her anymore. She’s far more comfortable making forts under covers!  

Taylor told the secret sessioners that we all obsess over the midnight kisses on New Year's Eve. But do you know who is a "keeper"? The one who stays back after the party to clean the floor with you. That is who her lover is. New Year’s Day is perfect. It is stripped down, Taylor alone on piano. It’s easily one of the career defining songs of hers.

An interesting observation is the pattern of sounds on this album. How she goes from heavy slapping bass of ...Ready For It, to a simplified New Year’s Day is the kind of character development that gives this album a legendary storyline. This is easily one of the finest works of Taylor and I am totally in for this.