#maybe I'll do the 3rd and 4th year at one point but not today

[kitchen-box]

You know when I said I would update on the dark sides reaction if Harry was pining on Voldemort.

Yeah, I only meant Snape.

Only to make things clear here

Harry has s crush on Voldemort in every form

Quirell? The most beautiful man EVER with a pretty sick turban too bad it hurts when he looks at it for too long

Diary Tom? That's basically canon

Ginny while possessed by diary Tom? Harry is veeery confused why he notices Ron's sister is pretty only sometimes

Snake Voldemort? I mean, I heard the Victorian era women used to want to have really white skin so they marinated it in powder. And he is OLD. So maybe he saw his mother put it on and he liked it so he decided to recreate the look??? Who cares?! It's the '90, for Merlin's saggy tits... Is Harry a monster fucker??

The rest of the horcruxes? They really are veeery pretty. Even more than that 100 karate necklace on the teli that aut Petunia was dropping hints to wanting

P.S.:'words' are thoughts ;'words' are Parseltongue also words are actions and gestures but you get that from context already

Anyways, to get back on track with Dark Side *coughs* Snape *coughs*

I want to make memes featuring Snape having meltdowns from to much stress from this bullshit.

So I am going to make memes

First year

Harry *staring at Quirell*: singh's audibly

Snape, begining to feel uncomfortable: glares to establish dominance

Harry, startled, not knowing what else to do: waves awkwardly

Quirell, also startled: waves back

Harry, lovestruck: giggles and accidentally spills his drink over Ron

Ron, who has the emotional range of a spoon: annoyed gremlin noises

Snape, recognising that look anywhere: drops his fork

Dumbledore, literal genius, watching the whole time: confused headmaster noises

Second Year

Snape, bringing potions to the infirmary because Harry bloody Potter and co. decided to fight a basilisk and there are literal petrified children (in this day and age): 'How the fuck did I get here?'

Harry, who doesn't have glasses and is high af, seeing Snape walk past his bed: Wanna hear about the really pretty boy I killed??

Snape: stops walking and stares at Harry

Harry, still high on some kind of medical fairy dust: He had a really handsome face. It was too perfect now that I think about it. That should have been my first sign that he was Voldemort trapped in a diary

Snape having an urgent need to sit down: tears up from stress

Harry 'I one mistook Dumbledore for a snitch' Potter: Well not really Voldemort, 16 year old him, but it was Voldemort so I said Voldemort. Anyways you should have seen his eyes. They were really pretty. Like I would have joined him if he asked me to, just so I could look at his eyes forever...

Snape, sits down on the foot of Harry's bed: Shhh, shhhh. Oh, would you look at the time? It's time to shut the fuck up and go to bed.

Snape: tucks Harry into bed and pat's his cheek semi- lovingly

Snape: It's also time for a bottle of fire whiskey. Ruffles Harry's hair in hope he'll finally go to bed and not tell him how handsome the Dark Lord is

Harry, not really understanding what is going on but this man is nice even if he is blurry so he'll do as the nice man asks: okay

Harry: Can you also gime me a kiss?

Snape: Ask Albus

Harry: Okay, who's Albus??

Snape: ...

Snape: Just go to bed before anyone gets hurt

Harry: Who's gonna get hurt?

Snape, full bullshitting mode at this point: The pretty boy you killed

Harry: le gasp

Harry, very seriously: Plot twist

Snape, also very seriously, nodding in agreement: Fucking plot twist

[strixcattus]

...And now I'm thinking about the time travel conlang and how I might want that to work.

I looked up the phrase just to see if I could get inspiration from other time travel–related languages and found Mpiua Tiostouea, the language of all time. It's got some neat concepts, though it was designed to have an... interesting... phonology and I'd definitely make some different choices—which is good! It means I won't be copying ideas when I make my own conlang.

A conlang for time travellers needs to be able to express some complex and seemingly self-contradictory tenses. For instance, I might tell you this sentence:

"After I go to my date with the time worm, I'll text you how it went."

Except today is Thursday, and my date with the time worm, which I'm going to tomorrow, is Wednesday (yesterday), and I plan on jumping again afterwards, but I'm not sure in which direction or how long it'll take me to get around to texting you, and at any rate you only experience time forwards and will certainly receive the text in the next few subjective and objective days.

...Also, while I, the person talking to you, am going to be going to the date and sending the text, I'm not dating the time worm—the date is between myself from three years into the future (as opposed to an alternate version of myself whom I never have been and never will be), I'm spying on it, and also the time worm experiences all of time simultaneously in every universe and thus has no time clones or past/future selves.

...And the groupchat has like three versions of you in it.

A properly time travel–inclusive language should encode all of these things efficiently through the use of creative agreements, pronouns, and tenses.

It should also be inclusive towards people who experience time in reverse. Not those who've lived backwards all their lives—they can learn any language just fine, the same way everyone else does—but people who've found themselves temporarily moving the wrong way through time, despite having learned the language forwards. I think this can be settled by having two acceptable word orderings—one the reflection of the other—and employing asymmetrical particles that indicate important things like proper nouns and sentences, and maybe having a necessarily asymmetrical syllable structure.

Like CV. Every syllable necessarily has one consonant followed by one vowel, unless you're experiencing time backwards relative to your conversation partner, in which case all their speech will sound to you like every syllable is VC, and the same from you to them. That ought to work and to be simple enough that anyone, with any native language from anywhere across time, can pick it up with relative ease.

Then we get to pronouns. Mpieua Tiostoeia has an impressive set of seven grammatical persons, numbered 1–7. I understand and respect the reasoning behind such a choice (and a dedicated grammatical person for antimemes is pretty darn cool), but I'd rather go in the opposite direction:

1st person: I, the one talking to you. 1.5th person: Me, but a different instance of me than the one talking to you. 2nd person: You, the one listening to me. 2.5th person: A different instance of you than the one listening to me. 3rd person: That guy, the one I'm pointing to. 3.5th person: That guy, but an instance of them that's not right here. 4th person: The time worm, which experiences all of time and the multiverse simultaneously.

...Which coincidentally is also seven grammatical persons.

Due to the need to stress subjective and objective time experience for multiple entities, basically everything that can take agreement will agree with the person and gender of whatever it can agree with—most crucially, verbs, which might include tense markings that have to agree with any number of people:

"I'm having a party with these guys last week, do you want to come?"

Where I'm going to the party in the future and inviting you to come along in your subjective future (while acknowledging you may have already been), but some of the people I'm gesturing to have already been to the party and others have yet to go. Also one of them is the time worm. I think this party might be where we met... will meet.. whichever. Both.

Now, when I say gender, I don't mean male vs. female. Time travellers can come from any timeline. Some of them have only one acknowledged gender. Others have three. A few have as many as sixteen, or even more. Some of them plot gender on a four-dimensional spectrum encoded in the phonology of their gender pronouns. The only way to please everyone's idea of what gender trappings deserve encodement is to encode them all equally—that is to say, not at all.

Besides, we're all time travellers here. I don't need to specify how you identify with each word. I want to know if this is you, or your future self, or your evil alternate universe self. That's the kind of gender I'm concerned with.

Which means you can have a mixed-gender group (the three versions of you in the groupchat) that needs to be referred to with... essentially, it'd be something like you (2sg) and you (2.5pl), where you (2.5pl) is gendered both for your past self and for your alternate universe self, which are two different genders.

I think this ought to be my next conlang project. It's been way too long since I really got into one—right now, Yvelse is my only conlang that's not either dead or been in cold storage for the past year+.

[iam93percentstardust]

i don't usually do these kinds of things, but today was a nightmare of a day, so here's a vent post (it's long, so i'll put it below the read more)

the cast:

gina: PI for my research lab, was one of the very first people to catch covid back before we even knew what covid was and immediately developed long covid, is currently in her 4th year of an incredibly nasty divorce, has been so unhelpful and not present as a mentor in the last 4 years that we would all just like her to take a sabbatical please

me (alle): 6th year senior graduate student, was supposed to graduate this summer but had a nervous breakdown in the spring and deferred a semester, senior TA for gina's super special chemistry and politics class which i will inevitably wind up taking over when gina's health takes the same nosedive it's taken every semester for the last 4 years but god forbid i get paid as a lecturer, has put more hours into gina's super special chemistry and politics class than gina has which keeps me too busy to actually do anything for my dissertation

mingyu: 6th year senior graduate student, the literal definition of stoic, has had the good fortune of receiving federal funding for his project so doesn't have to TA, was also supposed to graduate this summer but gina decided to take on a new student (mina) at the last minute that he just has to train so he had to defer a semester, is so busy training mina that he doesn't have time for his own research

tessa: 4th year senior graduate student, junior TA for gina's super special chemistry and politics class, also the only graduate student who works with undergrads in the lab (she manages 6 of them), also got voluntold by gina to mentor two high school students this summer, TA + undergrads + high schoolers = no time for research, used to mentor ahmad but she is competent and he is not and it didn't end well

ahmad: 3rd year graduate student, the most incompetent man you'll ever meet despite being 10 years older than everyone else in the group (save for gina), 95% positive he faked his credentials to get into grad school because this man does not know shit despite being here for three years, this man poured liquid nitrogen down the drain and nearly ruined the 100 year old pipes in this building, this man told tessa's undergrads to catch concentrated hydrochloric acid with their bare hands, this man does not understand the concept of playing well with others and putting other people first, if there's an interpersonal conflict in the lab it's because he started it

mina: technically 3rd year graduate student but decided to abruptly switch research groups because apparently there are no jobs in inorganic chemistry anymore so she needs a biochem group (we are not biochem) ((and she refused to change her project so her research is still inorganic chemistry so i'm not sure what good this is doing))

kiara and darya: technically 2nd year graduate students but did the same thing as mina, not super relevant but i'll mention their names at one point or another, the most recent people to join the group three months ago

the background:

a month ago, tessa was supposed to give group meeting. gina cancelled that group meeting however, just like she's cancelled all but a handful of our group meetings for the last four years (i think i can probably count on two hands the number of group meetings we've had since her arrest. maybe). this would usually mean that tessa would present at the next group meeting, but gina cancelled that one too. for whatever reason, tessa took that to mean that she wasn't supposed to be presenting at the one two weeks ago. gina got (rightfully) pissy at her when tessa said she didn't have anything to present and hadn't even brought her computer, so gina told her to do a "chalk talk" where she outlined her entire project on the board for the high schoolers and new grad students.

(side note: gina explicitly said that chalk talks were a perfectly acceptable form of group meeting if we have new students in the lab and are trying to introduce them to each project or if we're trying to give her a summary of how far we've gotten on our project.)

i was supposed to go next for group meeting (which would have been last week), so i prepared a standard presentation with mostly data, but then i learned that we had two new grad students interviewing with us and that one of the high schoolers is interested in my research field, so i switched at the last second to a chalk talk to break down this project.

but then we got to group meeting last week and three things happened: first of all, gina apparently asked tessa to prepare a presentation on professional communication in the lab after a huge blowup between tessa and ahmad over ahmad stealing tessa's enzymes for his own project and not replacing them. secondly, out of the seven people in the lab (not including the two high schoolers), the only people who showed up in person were the three senior grad students (myself, tessa, and mingyu) so none of the new people who would have benefitted from a chalk talk were there (doubly funny that it was put together with ahmad in mind and he decided to sleep in). which would have been fine, i would have just switched to the original powerpoint presentation, except thirdly, gina decided that she needed extra time before class to get into the right headspace (since group meeting is right before class) and it became really obvious really fast that despite tessa originally thinking her part would only take 10 minutes, gina wanted to talk about everything in excruciating detail for an hour.

(side note: when i mentioned i was originally planning a chalk talk, gina was not only explicitly fine with this, but interested in seeing how i would break my work down.)

this would've meant that i would go this week, but gina said, and i directly quote, "instead of giving group meeting, alle, come meet with me personally." so we met and she reiterated that my meeting with her was instead of group meeting.

the story:

gina being the world's worst mentor, this wouldn't be the first time that she's gone back on something she said, so i was still prepared to give group meeting this morning. that is, until saturday. on saturday, she texted everyone to say that she had caught the flu and wouldn't be on campus today. yesterday, she texted us all again to remind us that she had the flu. now, given the four years of history with gina, i expected that meant that she would text us all this morning to say she was cancelling group meeting, but just in case, i made sure to wake up early enough to make it to campus on time.

this morning rolls around and she still has the flu, but wonder of wonders, she did actually want to hold group meeting but she wanted it to be short and over zoom. okay, fine. in the past, the words "short group meeting" from gina has meant that she wants a 2 minute research update from everyone and then she'll spend 20-30 minutes talking about her life and her personal problems, and we might circle back around at the end to talk about some housekeeping things (which we could have today, since conference registration in the fall is coming up). so i thought "okay, i'm off the hook until next week."

so we sit down for the zoom meeting (miracle of miracles, the four people who decided to skip out on last week's meeting (ahmad, mina, kiara, and darya (the junior grad students, for anyone counting)) were actually there) and gina immediately starts things off with "who's presenting group meeting today?" and i thought "well shit." but it's fine, it's okay, it's a little frustrating because it's a lot harder to do a chalk talk over zoom so i need to do the presentation, which is definitely not short, but it's fine.

but before i can even pull up the powerpoint, someone said "it's alle's turn from last week" (given his inability to stop himself from brown nosing and starting shit, i suspect it was ahmad) and gina. went. off. apparently the fact that i didn't already have the powerpoint pulled up and wasn't prepared to start talking as soon as we sat down meant that i was completely wholly unprepared for the entire thing. so she goes "alle why didn't you say anything when i asked? what are you supposed to be presenting? why didn't you bother to pay attention to the schedule?"

and i tried to say that i didn't say anything because i was originally planning on a chalk talk and that sends her off too because apparently, in the last week, chalk talks have become completely unacceptable to give in this group and tessa only gave one because she didn't have a computer with her during the group meeting she was supposed to present at but that doesn't mean that i can do one too, so again, clearly i'm not prepared.

this time i actually managed to get a word in edgewise, so i said "i do have a powerpoint i've been working on in the last few weeks, i just don't have it pulled up yet." hell, i could've actually shared two, depending on how long she wanted me to talk: the data one, which would've taken about an hour, and the one from the conference at the end of may, which would've been a great project summary for the new people and only about 20 minutes.

(side note: gina's never actually seen my conference presentation because she cancelled all of my group meetings where i would have practiced and "rescheduled" personal meetings i was supposed to have with her only to not go to them and didn't bother to show up to my actual talk, which i was terrified about given the aforementioned nervous breakdown.)

i was actively in the process of pulling it up, but before i can share my screen, she snaps no, once again, i've just proven that i'm unprepared and why is it always the senior grad students in this lab who are so unprepared (this is literally the first time i've ever, in seven years, been expected to present at group meeting and not been ready for it, and the sole reason i wasn't ready was because gina herself said she was sick and needed a short meeting) and why does no one in this lab (especially the senior grad students, according to her) take group meeting seriously (again, i can count on two hands the number of times we've had group meeting in four fucking years and more to the point, ahmad keeps skipping group meeting because he decides he didn't get enough sleep to go even when he's not presenting, but sure gina, the senior grad students are the ones not taking this seriously (also, remember who was present at last week's meeting and who skipped?)).

so then she goes off on mingyu because apparently the group meeting calendar that he put together isn't up to her standards. and not only does he need to do it all over again, but he needs to print it out and put it in the lab somewhere so that people stop being unprepared, even though that won't do any good given the number of times gina cancels (and the reason no one has been prepared is because she keeps cancelling and we lose track of who's supposed to present when when it's been two months since the last one, AND I WASN'T READY BECAUSE SHE SAID WAS SICK AND WANTED A SHORT MEETING).

and then she decided that we aren't having group meeting next week because she has jury duty and despite calling the courthouse, they're not letting her skip out on it (which, gina, what? no one ever gets out of jury duty by calling, that's not how jury duty in this city works). but when we have the next group meeting, tessa needs to go again to present the data from two weeks ago that she didn't present and then i need to go and, oh yeah, mina needs to go by the end of july because she has a conference and needs to practice (remember when gina cancelled all of my practices and talks with her before my conference presentation? lol yeah me too).

(side note: it has been a year and a half since ahmad last presented at group meeting, it's been a year since mina last presented, and kiara and darya have never presented despite being here for three months. every time gina resets group meeting, it's always me, tessa, or mingyu having to present.)

and then after 20 minutes of yelling at us, after all of that and making it clear that being unprepared for group meeting was unacceptable and the senior grad students were embarrassing her... gina decided she was too sick to continue with group meeting and told us all to go.

[japanesedoramaandanimelover91]

16 october:

Good morning everyone.

Thank you for watching #ONEDAY Episode 2: 🙇‍♂️The timeline for episode 2 is 1 hour 7 minutes 🙈.

17th  october:

Sorry for the inconvenience: 🙇‍♂️

A triumphant return to our first solo performance space. I'm back 🙈.

I can't believe you guys welcomed me like this😭.Thank you Nagoya🙈.

I'm home!

Tell me what it's all about.My mum has the same birthday as you 🙈.

18th october:

Good morning everyone!

Wooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.Thank you all 😭

19th and 20th october:

Good morning everyone!

21 october:Good morning everyone!

Why not?That's a thing, isn't it?What's the scene?I danced today... #ONEDAY

22th october:

Good morning everyone.

23th october:

Good morning everyone!

So today's #ONEDAY is1 hour and 4 minute timeline, apparently. Episode 3. We hope you enjoy it: 🙇‍♂️

24th october:

Good morning everyone!

25 october:

Good morning everyone!

Mi, mi, mi, everyone...! Thank you very much. 🙇‍♂️ All the really warm words are sinking in.

Woke up in the morning, worked first thing, checked emails for enquiries.It's a new and fresh movement.

26th october:

Good morning, everyone!

Nino-san recording finished. After all, it's fun to get together with everyone, isn't it?

27th october:

I'm done-i'm going home.

I was kind of embarrassed because i felt like i sent that post earlier probably once in my life to my mum. I'm back lol.

28th october:

Good morning, everyone!

Hey everyone! Good morning: ！！！！

I didn't say hello today...Sorry. 🙇‍♂️

29th october:

Good morning, everyone!

When I went out on the street, there were lots of people dressed up!It's Halloween. It's getting colder, so take care of yourselves💪.

I mean, how would I make a website for my future work? I wondered,My sister said, "I can make a simple one. My sister said, "I can make a simple website", so we decided to make one together.

Wow! Thank you! Thank you! I'm so happy😭Oh, no. Nothing but gratitude. #Default2MillionMan.

We've probably only had about 7,000 more people today alone. 🙇‍♂️Thank you so much! And I changed my profile, though, ididn't want to cause any trouble for 00pon, so i made it this way. So far 🙈.

30 th october:

Good morning, everyone!

Today's #ONEDAY Episode 4 time line is apparently 2 hours and 2 minutes. I just realised that about 12.5 hours have already passed. Maybe today is effectively the turnaround...?Enjoy: 🙇‍♂️

31th october:

"Analogue" event ends.Venue.[Congratulations to the default 2 million man...]And. I'll be waiting for your website!and [I'm waiting for your website! Thank you 🙇‍♂️ (Of course we received your support too. Thank you 😊)

1st november:

Good morning, everyone!(2 times.)

2nd november:

Good morning, everyone!

I took a wrong turn and got lost for a moment. I managed to get to the site five minutes before (even though it wasn't a particularly unusual place). So I'll do my best again today. 🙇‍♂️

3rd november:

Good morning, everyone!

Thank you for all the celebrations 😊. It's been 24 years since your debut 🙈.

4th november:

Good morning, everyone!

Hey guys! Thank you so much 🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️

Is this real?@MJ_Perspective

Thank you all: 🙇‍♂️ Looking at the rips, it seems to be real!Exhibition, they're going to do it: 🙇‍♂️#MJinitsentirety

5th november:

Good morning, everyone!

6th november: Good morning, everyone!

Today's #ONEDAY episode 5 has a time slot of 1 hour 4 minutes. So almost to the point where it's almost as long as the broadcast slot (not that it matters lol). We were filming today to rave reviews: 🙇‍♂️ Please watch it at 9pm: 🙇‍♂️

7th november:

Good morning, everyone!

Report. Ninomiya, we have created a company 🙈. We are also steadily working on our website. We will do our best. 🙇‍♂️

8th and 9th november:

Good morning, everyone!

10th november:

Good morning, everyone!

Today's filming required quite a lot of people and the extras lent us a lot of help. The filming ended without incident, thanks to a lot of help from our side! Thanks to everyone who participated. 🙇‍♂️

11th november:

Good norning, everyone!(2 times).

Oh, by the way, just now. Good morning! Good morning! So i turned around and it was you.

I should have had my photo taken...

Thank you for your hard work. Today's drama shoot is over lol.

12th november:

Good morning, everyone!

You don't mean... what i said at ......! No, this is a sign of your further growth, Uno...! In any case, congratulations ㊗️

13th november:

Good morning, everyone!

Ah, what a lovely day. My friends on the big stage on New Year's Eve...Sing a miracle in the small wide world. Let's all get bumped up: 🙇‍♂️#Ohmochiri-Ryo-chanShukui.

Today's #ONEDAY episode 6 timeline is 56 minutes. It's real time now. Enjoy: 🙇‍♂️

14th november:

Good morning, everyone!

I thought it was nostalgic, so i went through my folders and found that i had one too: 🎞️ They were all really cute lol. Let's shoot again🙆(Repost of tweet)

15th november:

Good morning, everyone!

Today all the parking spaces near the work place were full. I had no choice but to park at a distance, i parked in a remote place and walked slowly. I met a nice alley(excuse)and was 10 minutes late.(Sorry about that.)

Sorry about the typo.

So i asked Nakamaru to take a picture.

16th november:

Good morning, everyone!

On the way to the convenience store just now. I was on my way to the convenience store when i heard the words "Oh, i've just seen the "Analogue."I was told in such a normal way that i thought i should be more excited because it was the real thing. 🙇‍♂️

I'm Ninomiya, and i've shot the arthouse photos(artist photos) today 📷. I'll do my best to tell you about it soon 🙈.

Can i have the header and icons accordingly with today's arthouse photo? Can i just use a picture of nothing? I know you guys can't say anything about it because you haven't seen ...... yet lol. I'd like to try this feature for a bit, so let me do it lol.

17th november:

Good morning, everyone!

First survey.As of now, more than 443,000 people have participated. Thank you so much for your participation! But the results have stayed at this percentage since about an hour after we started. I'm surprised that the percentage hasn't changed. We've taken everyone's feelings into account...

At any rate, thank you for your first survey. That's why I'm going to leave the little niño here.

18th and 19th november:

Good morning, everyone!

20th november:

Good morning, everyone!

Today's #ONEDAY Episode 7 timeline is. 1 hour 17 minutes. Also, it looks like episode 0 will be on TVer. Enjoy: 🙇‍♂️

Mizuki... mizuki... mizuki...

21th and 22th november:

Good morning, everyone!

23th november:

Good morning, everyone!

Every year (probably almost...) i choose to spend Labor Thanksgiving Day in the strong style of being thankful while working. I would like to thank all the people who rested on the same strong style as me, and i would like to thank all of you for your hard work!🙇‍♂️

24th november:

Good morning, everyone!

25th november:

Good morning, everyone!

I'd say, but I'd like to sleep some more.

26th november:

Good morning, everyone!

Congratulations: ❤️#Themanwhocelebratedtheworldsslowest

[wh6res]

UP IN SMOKES — DOYOUNG

psych student! kdy | tw. college au, violence, a knife, GASLIGHTING, hallucination, psychosis, swearing, just pure manipulation, minor charac death, there's a court scene, this is a repost! | wc. 10k she a beast

life could’ve been simple;

you shouldn't have met kim doyoung.

what does a freshman in college hate the most other than the high-stress levels of moving into a new dorm? a shitty roomie and a smelly, moldy mattress. the girl you call roommate refuses to help move the mattress because it will ruin her new manicure. what a fucking classic. 

"sounds like a 'you' problem. figure it out yourself, plain jane." 

she said before heading out, annoyingly popping her bubblegum as she kicks a few of your scattered boxes by the front door. you roll your eyes; classes haven't even started yet, so why is she already making your life miserable? as much as you'd like to snap at her, you don't, merely glaring daggers at her back as she finally turns the corner of the hallway and disappears. 

"bitch," you mutter under your breath. 

you eye the abomination that is supposed to be your bed, cursing how you shouldn't have made a 15-minute pit stop to starbucks for a drink when you could've just bought one from the instant coffee vending machines in every corner of the hallway of this dorm building because if you didn't, maybe you could've beaten regina george wannabe from taking the better bed. sighing, you suck it up and start getting to work. life's full of shit, anyway; no point sulking.

moving a moldy mattress is easier than you thought, to say the least. you can't ask for help from the other freshmen you bumped into in the hallway because they, too, are under a huge amount of stress from the move and are busy getting their affairs in order. it was a good thing, though, that a committee was formed specifically for this day to help out the freshmen if they were to stumble upon problems or mishaps with moving in. they were all around the campus, and they prove to be way friendlier than your batch mates. since this morning, three people have already offered help in carrying your luggage — which you have politely declined.

"hey, uhm… is this the stall for the welcoming committee? oh, wait. i'm sorry, there's a sign right there —"ugh.

you mentally shut your eyes in humiliation. why do you have to be this bad, this awkward at communicating with strangers? why couldn't you be born like all those socialites who already (probably) got their contacts filled with new numbers on the first day of school or something?

"yeah, this is them — welcoming committee, i mean. how can i help you?" he smiles, sweet, radiating the epitome boy next door aura as he looks up at you from where he's sitting behind the stall. your eyes quickly land onto the name tag stuck on his varsity jacket before meeting his eyes again. 

"i have an issue with my mattress. it has mold, you see..." your voice slowly trails, becoming quieter as you feel small under the weight of his piercing stare. oh, come on. he's just a guy with a beautiful face, woman the fuck up.

"really? let me see..."

he needn't finish rounding the stall when his nose is hit by the pungent smell brought forth by your mattress. frankly, you weren't that picky. you could've covered it with bedsheets and call it a day, but the odor is too strong to ignore. you mentally hope the smell didn't latch onto your clothes, especially not when someone so cute is around — what a bad first impression.

"oh, god!" he exclaims the moment he lays eyes on it, taking a step back. “now, that has to go. and you lugged it from the fourth floor?" 

ah, yes. according to tradition in these dormitories, which you've only found out today, freshmen get the curse of climbing four flights of stairs up while the seniors strut into their rooms on the ground floor like the hallway is a goddamned runway. 

"doyoung! help me carry these!"

someone calls his name as you both turn your head to spot a chestnut-haired girl clad in the same varsity jacket he's wearing. you grimace at the sight of her. for someone so small, she just had to volunteer to carry all those heavy bags. however, he doesn't move in front of you and brushes her off as if she doesn't look like she's carrying rocks over her shoulders. "i'm already helping someone else! go find taeyong or something. i'm sure that shit's loitering around here somewhere!"

"oh, it's okay, you can go help her. i'll just look for someone else —"

"nah, it's fine!" you try hard to school your face into indifference when you notice his gummy smile. "plus… trust me when i say no other person from the committee will help you with this. this shit smells like my roommate's sweaty basketball socks!"

you can't help the smile forming on your face as you help him carry the mattress off to the side of the hallway, the stinky thing leaning vertically against the wall and behind a huge terracotta plant pot. "don't worry, let's report it to student affairs so they'll get you a new one. congrats! you'll have to share beds with your new roommate tonight, freshie. it'd be a great ice breaker."

the universe truly hates you.

your expression must've been a dead give away because he's suddenly patting your shoulder, regarding you with utmost sympathy. "been there, done that. i hated taeyong, too, when i met him last year. still, for some mind fuck of a miracle, we've grown to be friends and developed a talent of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds."

"highly doubt i'd be friends with a regina george-level bitch, but thanks, anyway," you mutter under your breath. suddenly, you whip your head towards him after internalizing what he just said. "you met your roommate last year? you're a sophomore?"

he scoffs, leaning down to your height to lowly mutter against your ear as he eyes the lobby's front desk. "why? do i look like some 4th year who radiates 'don't touch me' energy?" 

you feel the heat on your cheeks with how close he is, only releasing an exhale when he finally gets out of your personal space. "i'm kim doyoung. you've heard it from wendy earlier, but anyway — i'm a 2nd-year psych major."

"no way!" you exclaim, a little too excited. "i'm taking psych, too!"

"oh, you are? well, if you need anything or if you don't understand stuff…" he winks. "feel free to approach me anytime."

hmm… how sweet of him. 

it was only hours later that you found out who kim doyoung is in your department during the acquaintance party. and for god's sake, you found out from your best friend who is a major in english lit and has never even seen the guy. "seriously, you didn't know he's a genius? i hear the professors call him a prodigy, girl! a fucking prodigy. if i were you, i'd ask for his help in every subject."

"you know i prefer keeping to myself. how'd i know stuff like that when i have no one to talk to in the psych dorms?" you look down, making the ice cubes in your drink clink against each other. "i didn't think he was this big shot or whatever. he looks normal, and everyone treats him normally."

"well, what do you expect?" she hisses, hitting your arm. "the other students don't want to make him feel alienated or something just because he's tons smarter than them. but anyway… the real question is…"

you roll your eyes when she pauses for effect, tentatively leaning closer to whisper under her breath. 

"is he cute?"

you didn't want to answer her question, but he's been stuck in your head since he offered walking with you to the student affairs office. doyoung had smiled his cute gummy smile and had even ruffled your hair before leaving you for committee duties — saying he's cute would be an understatement. 

"you have no idea."

for his first act;

he gains your trust.

fast forward to one year, many things have changed, but the only constant remaining is the handsome sophomore — who is now a 3rd-year, by the way — whom you've met on your first day. coursework has been pretty tough this year. instead of the content written in your textbook, your mind is plagued by the horrible twist of fate your best friend had encountered; she didn't have enemies. or so you thought.

she disappeared in the middle of christmas break last year. her beaten up body was found only a month later, in january, floating around the university's lake. happy fucking new year. 

the first time she chose to spend the holidays with you instead of her family back in her hometown, and that happens? some rotten luck you both have. it's why you didn't put it past her family to hate your guts with strong convictions. it's okay. the feeling's mutual. after all, it had been your best friends' own family, the same ones who had been so willing to take you in when you got kicked out, that were so eager to pin you as the murderer of their child. all under the argument that you have been the last person seen with her. 

oh, the things her mom said about you when she had stormed into the police station, red in the face, tears streaming down her cheeks..."i warned my baby not to hang out with that — that bitch. came straight out of a cursed family, that one. abusive dad, a nutjob mom. that bitch is a danger! probably got her dad's nasty temper and beat my baby to death! i want her on the electric chair!"

in those times, you once again realize this world is fucked up and cruel in every bit of its glory as you fought tooth and nail to defend yourself. but even then, they never believed you — the law will only favor the rich . the prosecution had been so sure it was you until a certain witness appeared and presented himself before the jury.

"do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" 

doyoung raises his right hand, fixing his stare straight at the judge. "i solemnly and sincerely declare that the evidence i shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"how long have you known the defendant?" the prosecutor asks, arms crossed in front of her chest as she paces in front of the witness stand.

the boy briefly meets your gaze, and it's enough to make his heart sink. doyoung can't bear seeing you in those grey overalls when he knows it himself. you're being accused of a crime you didn't commit. "i've known her for one year."

"how'd you meet?"

and the questions went on and on; your defense attorney isn't all too keen on winning the case and had never once yelled "objection!" in her seat, but what could you expect? all the evidence kept stacking against you, and some of those you knew were even fabricated. you've never felt this hopeless in your whole twenty years of living. 

"what's the point in this, anyway?" doyoung snapped in the witness stand, fiercely glaring at the prosecutor. "how is my history — or lack thereof — with the defendant any relevant to the case? you're not even asking me about evidence nor what my statement is!"

"easy there," the prosecutor retaliates, jaw locked. "i have to first measure what exactly your relationship is with the defendant for us to think twice about your statement. who knows..." the prosecutor makes a grand gesture of turning her head in your direction, affixing you with a condescending stare. "she might've just hired you to say these things."

your attorney doesn't come to your aid.

"perjury isn't my thing." 

the prosecutor seems to have taken offense by the tone of doyoung's voice, but he doesn't let her speak further. "the victim isn't all sunshine and rainbows, you know. she'd been a part of a sorority and one with quite a nasty reputation in the college, too. i have to say she made very poor decisions, ones i'm sure her family didn't even know about. you see, they take their oaths and pledges very seriously. the victim wanted out. they didn't like that."

"and you have evidence to support this claim?"

without a moment to waste, he digs around the front pocket of his jeans before proudly presenting a black usb between his slender fingers. "knock yourself out."

the professor calls your name, snapping you out of your reverie. this isn't the first time your mind had transported you back to that particular day in the courtroom, where doyoung had swooped in and saved you from a lifetime in prison. the whole ordeal had been so scary, so frightening that you remember everything vividly as if it had only happened yesterday.

the classroom is empty. even your social psych professor has long packed up his stuff and is already standing by the classroom door. damn. were you that out of it?

"i'm so sorry." you mutter under your breath monotonously as you walk past him and out the door without another word. this is bad, very bad. no one would help, much less lend their notes to someone charged with murder — especially of their very own best friend. whether you were innocent or not doesn't matter to the student body. you've been ostracized, gossips of your problematic family spreading like wildfire, and the ridiculous part is only a fourth of the gossips are true.

the damage is done. 

at this point, you realize with a heavy heart that you have to face doyoung again sooner or later. you haven't talked to him at all since the start of the new school year, ignoring his lighthearted greetings in the hallways, rejecting his calls, ghosting his texts. you are afraid people would judge him harshly for hanging around you. frankly, you were embarrassed to ask any more favors from him with how much he's done for you already and the fact that he had seen you in such a state of vulnerability.

but you also didn't want to fail your subjects and lose the one thing holding your life together — your scholarship.

that is why you found yourself standing before him, in his favorite spot in the library tucked behind shelves upon shelves of books, next to the windows overlooking the empty football field. he's wearing black-rimmed glasses and is clad in the usual navy blue sweater as his head turns to and fro between a textbook and his notebook. the air had been so silent, you hear the aggressive scratches his pencil makes against the paper.

you feel a little hurt when he makes no move to acknowledge your presence, but you think back to what you have been doing and figured he has a right to act this way. 

"hey, doyoung." your voice is meek, hesitant.

"if you're not here to explain nor give me an acceptable reason why you've been ignoring me for the last few months, then please get out of my sight. i'm busy, as you can tell." he is brutally honest, knocking down the remaining hope you have left of ever reconciling with him.

something within you snaps, the steady streams of tears running down your cheeks as you pinned your stare on doyoung's open pencil case lying on the table. you have nobody left. your family — father, specifically speaking — has disowned you for taking a course your heart wanted, and the one friend you have lies motionless in a white coffin buried six feet under the ground. you didn't want to lose doyoung, too, no matter what role he plays in your life.

"i'm sorry," your voice cracks. "life's been… fucking shitty, and i'm sure you of all people know what i've been through. i've thanked you before for — for what you did, and i'm thanking you again right now but — i'm sorry, i'm really —"

your voice cracks when you feel him pulling you into an embrace. you feel the tension in your body breaking loose as you crumble in his arms. all those months grieving and wallowing in self-pity took such a heavy toll that you can't help but tightly clutch the sides of his hoodie, scared he'll slip through your fingers.

one of his hands comes up to push your face against the crook of his neck, muffling your cries in the silent library. doyoung felt like a jerk for snapping at you the way he did. how inconsiderate can he be? however, he felt elated because you sought him out yourself and wanted his help of all people.

his eyebrow raises in amusement. 

well, not that you have a choice, anyway.

it took you a few good minutes to calm down, cringing when you see the wet patch on doyoung's sweater because of your tears. 

"why don't you tell me everything, hmm? i'll help you as much as i can."

you sheepishly look down, fiddling with your fingers as you sit across him, the open textbook and notebook before him long forgotten. "well, i've been so out of it lately? my mind's just a whole bloody mess and i can't focus on any of my subjects at all and if i can't, then i'll lose the scholarship and it's the only thing i have in my life right now —"

"hey," doyoung cuts you off, placing a warm hand against your forearm to calm you down. "you won't lose that scholarship. trust me, okay? why don't we arrange tutoring sessions and i'll even lend you some of my notes from last year. what do you think?"

"okay... thank you, doyoung."

"for the record, you have me in your life, too. i'll always be here for you."

in the first session, you woke up from your deep slumber with only 15 minutes to spare from the scheduled time, but thankfully, your tutor only lives one floor down with the rest of the 3rd-years. bringing nothing with you but a pen and a pad of paper, your textbooks were destroyed as some students from your batch thought it'd be fun to throw them into the lake to "honor" your friend. 

you offer a small smile when taeyong opens the door, sporting an oversized shirt and track pants, eyes wide in shock when he sees you. "hi? can i help you?"

"hello! i'm here for doyoung. he's tutoring —"

"he doesn't live here anymore. his mom bought him a place outside the campus."

what?

"i'm sorry for disturbing you, then. do you by any chance know where he lives?"

that's weird. doyoung never mentioned he's already moved out. you feel a wee bit irritated that he forgot to tell you; it would've saved you the embarrassment of interacting with the varsity player. you weren't stupid, you can see the hints of repulsion in taeyong's eyes the moment he opened that door and saw you standing before him, no doubt thinking about: oh, look, it's the crazy murderer with a fucked up family standing in front of me.

he had shut the door in your face. you stood awkwardly for a good minute in the hallway until the door reopens, taeyong handing you a small piece of paper with doyoung's new address scribbled hurriedly in black ink. he doesn't give you a chance to thank him for he's already closed the door again without another word. 

you opted walking to his place instead of catching a ride because the money you have on you is enough to buy yourself dinner. to say the least, the apartment building is mediocre, not too grand, nor is it too rundown. double-checking the floor level written on the paper before pushing the elevator's button, you then realize doyoung lives on the very top floor of the building.

the hallways are painted a boring brown. some acrylic number signs plastered on the doors are broken, hanging vertically with one screw left. it says on the paper he resides in room 720. taking the right hallway, you mentally count as you eye the mahogany doors. 718… 719… there it is!

when you raise a fist to start knocking on his door, there is a tinge of hesitation surging through you. perhaps being alone with a boy in his apartment is not the best setting for a girl like you should end up in, but this is doyoung we're talking about. if he had ill intentions for you, it would've manifested a long time ago. you shake your head, feeling bad for thinking of him that way as you slowly knock on his front door. not long after, it swings open, revealing the 3rd-year in a white shirt and boxers as he lazily dries his hair off with a small towel. 

"you're late," is the first thing he says to you before spinning on his heel to disappear further into his humble abode. 

"you didn't exactly inform me you've moved out of the dorms. so, whose fault is it?" you retaliate, inviting yourself in and closing the front door shut.

"whatever. let's get started!" he plops himself on the floor, coffee table filled with loose papers as he struggles to find a specific one amongst the mess. "i've already scanned, exported to pdf, and emailed you my notes. it should be in your inbox by now. anyway, answer this quiz i made so i know what i'll be working on."

"you didn't really have to send your notes, doyoung. i could've just read everything from the textbook," you sit down across from him because otherwise, you'll be too distracted to remember information. 

a thought crosses his mind. with what textbook?

"i just think it's missing some essence. that's why i love reading over other psych books in the library for fun. be grateful, those notes are like my babies and i don't simply give them to anyone," he looks at you pointedly. "they've all been summarized and explained in layman's terms so you wouldn't have to spend grueling hours of reading and trying to make sense of the big words as i did — i know that's not the definition of 'fun' normally, but it is for me, and that's why i do it."

"okay, doyoung. you sound so defensive when there's nothing to be defensive about," you tease, feeling pleased with the hint of red on his cheeks as he averts his gaze from yours, muttering incoherent words under his breath.

you spent the following tuesdays, thursdays, and sundays like that; hours upon hours with no one but your tutor, laptops with tangled chargers, a printed copy of his babies, and a mountain pile of loose papers filled with the specialized quizzes doyoung makes to measure your progress. the location varies from a cafe or his flat. but in what you've gathered from the time you spent with him, doyoung's a homebody. cafe tutor sessions are rare, and he always complained about how "noisy" the atmosphere was — "i can't stand it."

but the conversation hadn't always been about academics. 

sure, for the first few sessions, doyoung kept an image of professionalism and had heavily insisted on it — "it's for your learning experience!" — despite your lighthearted teasing. but as time passed and he eventually grew more comfortable in your presence, you find the strict 15-minute break he had initially imposed between 45 minutes of studying turned into hours of talking about whatever; how he likes his eggs in the morning, your favorite coffee brew, his favorite show, your strongest pet peeve. 

and you wholly welcomed the change, not minding that it's practically dark out whenever you go back to your miserable dorm. you feel butterflies in your stomach whenever doyoung offers to walk you home but never had you taken his offer, still cautious of other people seeing you both together despite his constant reassurances. you've already thoroughly ruined your image. you didn't want to ruin his, too. 

kdy the cute tutor, 2:14 pm —last day of midterms! & its all majors today  —good luck —remember what i taught u —lets get ice cream after u cant say no

you shake your head bemusedly. his texting style is the most doyoung thing he does and it's as if you can hear him say these things to you in real life. too caught up in your own world, you fail to detect another student sitting next to you and had nearly fallen off your chair in shock when they spoke.

"why are your notes like that?"

you fight the urge to glare at the person, especially when you turn your head and see lee jeno looking at you in genuine curiosity. he's the only batchmate that treats you a wee bit nicer among the rest. although he isn't technically your friend, at least he doesn't look at you like you're a piece of bubblegum stuck under his shoe like all the others.

"what do you mean?"

"they're… the definitions are all jumbled up. where did you even get that?" 

what? jumbled up? doyoung himself said these notes are a combination of most of the psychology books he had read last year concerning his subjects. how would it be jumbled up? then again, lee jeno was not tutored by the prodigy himself. maybe things are bound to seem "jumbled up" when information is too great to understand for a feeble mind. 

just as you were about to claim these notes aren't yours, the professor has already waltzed into the classroom with a thick wad of papers — the exams. after one last concerned glance directed your way, jeno averts his gaze with a confused tilt of the head. 

hours later, you walk out of the classroom with the biggest smile on your face. aced it, you thought. your hands feel numb with how much you wrote on the essay portion but it's worth it if it meant you get the full 25 points, which you no doubt will as it was a topic you surely tackled with doyoung. speaking of... he sure is a man of his word.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss, head ducked with hair framing your face as to not draw attention from the rest of the students filing out of the testing hall.

"i texted you that we're getting ice cream. remember?"

"i did. but i didn't remember agreeing."

he shoots you a comforting smile, planting his hands firmly on your shoulder. “i told you, y/n. i don't care if they all see us together, so what? we all know you didn't commit that crime and it wasn't your fault you were born into the family you had. i don't care about the trivial things, baby, so don't shy away from me, okay?"

how the fuck can you say 'no' when he's looking at you the way he is as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear? doyoung's just so bewitching that he has you wrapped around his slender fingers. he seems pleased when you stumbled over your words as you come up with a reply, caught off guard by his bold gestures.

"i just — you, uhh — fine..." you gave in, rolling your eyes out of pretense.

he just had to call you 'baby' and erupt the butterflies in your stomach.

it had been doing that for the last few months now and it had only truly manifested today when he took you out for ice cream to celebrate the end of hell week. and since you didn't want to go back to your dorm yet, you asked if you guys can watch some movies in his house but it had simply become background noise to your heart-to-heart talks. and what better accompaniment than the classic, chicken and beer?

you listen to him drone on and on about the little realizations he had on some of his past lectures even when you barely understood anything he's saying. doyoung's so lucky to be extremely good at something he's so passionate about, talks about the human mind and the complexity of a person's behavior will never fail to make his eyes light up in interest.

he calls out your name.

your eyes snap open.

"why don't we get you home? it's past 10 and it's alright, stupid, you don't need to pretend to be interested in my psychological findings." he chuckled light-heartedly, stealing the can of the now room-temperature beer from your hands before you can protest. 

"i wasn't dozing off, i swear."

"i caught you in the act. stop lying."

like all the other times he has you as his guest, doyoung once again offers to walk you home and you decline for the thousandth time. it really isn't that much of a long walk anyway. you don't see the need for him to go out of his way to secure your safety. plus, you were the one who insisted on hanging out in his house anyway. you weren't that thick-skinned to let him take you home, too.

"you're drunk!" he scolds.

“no, i’m not. i can perfectly handle myself."

"but —"

"bye!" 

you feel a little guilty for shutting the door in his face. still, a minute longer of his persistence and you would've taken his offer. unfortunately for doyoung, you are one stubborn girl. only if you don't make brisk movements with your head, then you won't see doubles. you'll be fine, it's just a quick walk and it's not as if you're stupid enough to pass by deserted alleys. 

but you had underestimated the divine prowess of your fucked up fate.

everything happened in a matter of three seconds; one, the blinding headlights illuminate your path from behind; two, you hear the loud honk, and as you turn around — three, the vehicle sends you rolling against the asphalt.

you should have taken the alleyways.

for his second act;

he alters your reality.

when you open your eyes, you thought you were dead and your spirit is wandering elsewhere — because you don't believe in trivial things like heaven and god — until an agitated doyoung comes into view. for a split second, you thought, is he dead, too?

"i'm not dead, you idiot." too dazed, you hardly register his anger. "i can perfectly handle myself, she said. i'm not drunk, she said. this wouldn't have happened if you had simply let me walk you home! you're damn fucking lucky you're alive and breathing right now!"

a person clears their throat.

"i don't think it wise to… nag at the patient the moment she wakes. don't you agree, sir?"

pink splotches on doyoung's cheek as he looks down, embarrassed at getting scolded as he stands closer to your bed. "i'm sorry, doc."

you didn't know when your vision cleared or when you started hearing normally again, but it was enough to find out what exactly had transpired on the very night of your tragic accident. a hit and run. fifty-fifty chance of surviving. doyoung getting a call from the hospital in the middle of the night —"they were trying to contact your dad, but he wasn't answering. i was the last person in your call history." 

six months in a coma. but today, you wake… only to find out your world has crashed and burned.

"what do you mean i lost my scholarship?"

"baby, listen to me —"

"why did they take it away? is it because of my accident? i'm behind by one term only and i swear i can catch up. they need to let me back in the program. there must've been some mistake —"

"your gpa didn't reach the cut-off grade."

that can't be possible.

"but you tutored me!" you claim with conviction, pointing an accusatory finger at him until you groan, bowing in pain as you clutch your head.

doyoung springs into action. the chair's legs screech against the tiles as he jumps to your aid, ushering you gently back against the hospital bed despite your refusal. "you're not well. lay back down, please."

you don't hear a single word he says, not when you had lost something so crucial. "i put in the effort and learned everything you taught me... i aced those fucking mid-terms! i know i did!" you were on the brink of tearing up as doyoung settled himself in front of you.

"i… i actually saw your papers," his lips set in a thin, hard-line. "everything was all wrong, sweetheart. what happened to you? i tried reasoning with the professors, mentioned your state — you know, with your best friend dying — but they didn't relent. i'm sorry y/n. i'm so —"

gone. everything is gone. the money. the dorm. what if they ask you to pay the fees from last year? what if they ask you to pay the tuition fee for this year? you have no money, no family, no relatives. no one to help. who's even going to pay for the hospital fees?

you weren't able to process anything after that. not with the sudden news of your now revoked scholarship. doyoung pulls you in a tight hug. "i was a bad tutor," he says, snapping you out of it. "maybe i shouldn't have pushed you that hard to learn them. why were your answers even mixed up y/n? i thought you knew those topics already…"

he pulls away, observing your confused state as your eyes dart everywhere in the room. "what — how are they mixed up? i know i got them right. there has to be some mistake. you taught me those topics, remember?"

"i did... "he averts his gaze. "but i don't remember teaching them to you mixed up, darling. i think you did that all on your own."

"but… why would i mix up my answers? that's —"

"see, what i mean?" he cuts you off, raising a hand to give your cheek the most delicate caress. "you're not well, baby. you need to be treated, especially with how much you hit your head during the accident. don't worry, i'm here. we'll try asking if you can stay in the dorms at least until you find another place —"

"am i a charity case to you?"

oh, the surprise on the junior's face when you push him away as you pin him with a hard stare. you just don't get it. why is kim doyoung so adamant about helping you? in becoming your hero, even when you never asked him to be? if you let him help you this time around, that'll be the 3rd time he came to save your ass. it's not as if you're ungrateful. simply, you've had enough of his help. you don't know how a person like you, who literally has nothing, can return the favor to someone like doyoung.

"what are you saying —"

"i'm saying…" you fix him a hard stare. "you helping me out doesn't even benefit you in the slightest. so why do you do it?"

he pauses, staring at you with hesitance in his eyes as this seems to be the very first time you've truly seen him speechless. when doyoung opens his mouth, he mumbles, and you hardly make sense of what he said. 

"do you really want to know why?" 

you urge him on with an arched eyebrow, his softened tone creeping into your heart. 

"you're someone special to me y/n. i don't know how or when i admitted it to myself, but you are, and it hurts me to see how shitty your luck is," he cracks a small grin, slowly settling back onto the hospital bed as he grabs your hand. "it's okay to seek help from others. it isn't a sign of vulnerability or weakness. i help you because i want to, and i'm more than willing to take care of you. will you let me?"

you're not blind. you've noticed the way he had slowly started coming closer as he continued to speak, hands held securely in his as he looked straight at your eyes then down at your lips. and so, you act in a way you know that will surely answer his question — with a kiss. 

the man before you immediately reciprocates, overpowering your own eagerness as he curls the tips of his fingers into the roots of your hair. he pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. you can taste his desperation in the way his tongue dances against yours, the kiss transporting you into an alternate reality where your world revolves around doyoung and doyoung alone. 

when he pulls away bleary-eyed, both of you ignore the thin strand of saliva connecting your lips. "how about you come live with me for the time being, my love?"

still high off his kiss and natural scent, you hardly mull over the question he asks you. "okay."

days later, after you've been discharged (he wanted to chip in for your hospital bills but you had given him a firm no), doyoung had been the one to show up at the dorm to collect all your things after leaving you in his apartment. the cutie had refused to simply drop you off and had deliberately accompanied you up the elevator, through the halls, and finally into his apartment. 

"i'll be out for just a minute, sugarcube."

"oh, can you get take out?"

doyoung had smiled, playfully booping the tip of your nose. "no, because i'll be cooking for us tonight as a little celebration for you getting discharged. you'll love it; i'm making your favorite!"

it was funny how the night had been nothing but utter bliss. the foreign feeling of being taken care of sprouting in your chest as you watch him cooking from behind the counter. it felt… nice. but funny enough, as if doing a 360, you both had immediately gotten into an argument the next day. 

"i don't see the need for skipping another day if i feel perfectly fine! i'll figure something out once we get there, doyoung, so can we just —"

"you' re not fine, babylove — hell, you got discharged yesterday! i'm not just about to let you back into the arena with those students. they've only grown more immature since your coma, love. i seriously don't want you near them."

"fine! then i won't talk to them. simple." you throw your hands up. "there. problem solved. now, can we please just go to uni? i need to talk to the dean and the head of student affairs, too —"

"i'm going to uni, not you."

maybe it had been the way he firmly stated his claim, the way his eyes pierced through your soul as if daring you to argue further with him that made you snap.

"i'm not a prisoner in this apartment, doyoung! don't treat me like i have the plague! i'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself — jesus christ, i've been doing it nearly half my fucking life!"

too caught up in your anger, you've failed to notice the tears pouring down his face as he sets his gaze on the floor. 

"you're right," his voice cracks. "i shouldn't be pushy like that. i'm sorry. you just mean so much to me and i'm so scared of losing you again. with your coma — i just — it's like i was fighting a losing battle each day that passed when i saw you in that hospital bed. i've never felt so scared in my whole life and i hated myself for not being able to protect you that night."

his tears run like waterfalls, and when you step forward with your arms wide open, doyoung sobs harder as he pulls you against him. you hardly comprehend what he says as he spoke, shaking against your frail body as you felt his tears stain your blouse. "i'm sorry, i never should've dictated what you felt — i'm so sorry."

"no, it's okay. i was feeling a little lightheaded, anyway. i'll stay here and i can come back to school next semester, right? doyoung? just… please stop crying."

he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes before giving your forehead a kiss. you let a relieved sigh escape your lips, melting into his warmth as you prop your chin on his shoulder. if you had only been more attentive, you would've seen the reflection of his wicked grin on the tabletops. too easy.

living with him became a blur after that incident. everything fell into a routine for the next four days as you spent the day watching netflix, eating, reading, sleeping. nothing felt fun anymore. but your peaceful life had ceased during the fifth night — the whispers, they woke you up. you can hear them from behind your door at night, and when you rouse awake, you see doyoung walking around the hallway from the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. you had sighed, falling back into your plush bed as you pray to god, he keeps it down. 

but what he told you the next day rendered you speechless. "me, walking around the hallways? whispers?" he says, confused. "i was already asleep, love. knocked out cold the moment my body fell on the bed."

"but…"

he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes his sweet time skimming through his notes on the dining table, coffee in one hand. "maybe it's just the meds kicking in."

"no, surely it was real! i literally woke up in the middle of the night," you repeat. "it's okay if it was you, doyoung. i'm not mad."

he sets his coffee mug down a little too loud. 

"well, you can't be mad at me, sugar, because like i said — it wasn't me," it doesn't take a genius to notice he's awfully cranky today. you observe him, dark half-moons under his eyes as he relentlessly reads his notes with instant coffee in one hand. 

"you're just imagining things, okay? stop acting crazy."

for some reason, the way he had uttered certain words like 'imagining' and 'crazy' made you curl into your seat in embarrassment. he was right that your doctor did prescribe a generous amount of pills per day, but his tone made it feel off, made you feel like there was something wrong with you even when there wasn't… 

right?

you didn't say a word after that and had hesitantly pecked him on the cheek before he left for school. with the amount of time you're with him, two things stood out to you — his keen sense of observation and his knack for reading people. you highly doubt he didn't notice a shift in your behavior but a part of you thinks it's just the stress talking. he is about to take his finals and had recently started on his research paper. 

every psych student is required to present a paper in accordance with the department's annual theme. it could be anything from proposing a theory (if you dare) to constructing a well-developed psychology model. if you don't turn one in, you don't graduate — the paper's that important, and you've been bugging him for so long about sneaking a peek on what his study is about. but he always refused. 

the next week came rolling around, and both of you had been spending every day together due to the semestral break. the arguments have significantly lessened, but your episodes — eventually, you started calling it that way because that's how doyoung labels it — have only gotten worse. you end up moving out of the guest room and into his. privacy be damned. the whispers stopped momentarily but what came next became your imminent downfall.

the first time you heard it, you thought you were dreaming. but the doorknob kept rattling aggressively even as you sat up. just as you climb off the bed, your half-asleep boyfriend asks where you're going. 

"bathroom," you lied.

you were always the one to snort when it comes to the supernatural, claiming it's all bullshit. yet, as whatever outside continues to fight its way inside the room, the rattling progressing into loud bangs against the door, you're not so sure of your beliefs anymore. you're not crazy. nothing is wrong with you, and you're perfectly fine. this apartment is cursed, and you are going to prove that to doyoung.

grabbing your phone from the bedside table, you turn the flash on, pointing the camera at the door as you take a footage of the mad entity that has been playing games with you. a squeal escapes your lips when a particular bang! reverberates louder in the room than all the others. the phone slips your hand, falling onto the floorboards. you don't bother to retrieve it as you scramble to get yourself back under the blanket and into doyoung's comfortable warmth.

you snuggle yourself plush against his chest, shaking as you wrap your arms around his waist, inhaling his natural scent to anchor you back. 

bang! bang! bang!

you didn't get a wink of sleep last night.

"can't the video wait? there's a new episode of start-up, and i want to watch it already!" he whines, shoving his face further on the throw pillow situated on your lap.

you giggle, shaking your head as you scroll through your gallery to find the video. i'm not imagining things. i'm not hallucinating. i'm not crazy. "here! watch... i'm telling you this apartment is haunted, and the ghost probably likes you, which is why it doesn't bother you —"

your lighthearted rambling cuts off when you notice no sound emitting from your phone. weird. you could've sworn you started recording right when the loud banging has already started. your heart drops upon the wary stare doyoung shoots you before he continues to watch the video. 

no, no, no, no — please!

you quickly scoot over to his side, watching as the video unfolds before your very eyes. the shot was messy as the phone was handheld, not to mention you were panicking at the time. but the video is silent. not a single noise of a rattling doorknob or banging on the door can be heard through your phone's speakers. 

"maybe — maybe you didn't turn the volume up?"

you hardly contain the mortification in your face when you realize the volume's at 100 already. and as if on cue, your squeal is heard in the video and the noise of the phone hitting the floor.

doyoung's silence shakes your whole being. as you kneel before him teary-eyed, your voice breaks. "i swear, i'm not crazy."

but at this point, you don't believe yourself anymore.

for his third and final act;

he triumphs.

his deprivation began in minuscule ripples. 

it didn't take much effort on doyoung's end to convince you to stop studying for a year or two, at least, only until your hallucinations aren't as severe anymore. everyday felt like hell on earth as the fine line between what's real and what isn't has blurred over one too many times. in sheer paranoia of accidentally hurting him in his sleep, you moved out of his bedroom and had started sleeping in the guest room again — much to doyoung's frustration. 

but he's a smart man, one that recognizes an opportunity amidst the hurdles thrown on his path.

"why does my door need a lock outside again?"

he approaches you, who’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, after screwing in the last of the screws that came with the new doorknob. doyoung is familiar with the look written on your face, has observed and studied you enough to navigate his way inside your pretty little head with ease.

he can't have you doubting him, can he?

"you know i'm all about protecting you, right?" he starts. you nodded. "i've been doing it for a year now, and i will continue to do so until you need me to. the world is a bad place, sweetheart, remember? your own best friend's mother tried framing you. your dad disowned you. you've been ostracized in the whole college... do you think i'm just like the rest of them, baby?"

doyoung has already mastered the perfect expression of a kicked-puppy, one that easily pulls at your heartstrings and has you cooing at him.

"no!" you say with conviction, reaching forward to thread your fingers through his. "i know you're different, not like any of them at all. i know you're only doing what's… best for me."

he ignores the underlying hesitance in your tone. that will be corrected, sooner or later.

doyoung tightens his hold as he kisses the back of your hand. such an innocent gesture — but such ill intentions.

"the outside lock helps me in protecting you, love. you don't need to worry about anything. just focus on getting better, alright? i'll keep the bad guys away from you."

it was during his first semester of senior year, a few months back, doyoung and a good few students of his batch had been granted the opportunity to intern for a mental hospital located near the edge of the city. he was supposed to decline the offer but you convinced him to take the spot. it had only been a two-week “job” yet it was enough for doyoung to conclude — he’d rather kill you than subject you to the horrors of what the patients have to go through in the loony bin. 

eventually, the small ripples shift into unforgiving waves, dragging you into the depths as everything comes crashing down before your very own eyes.

it should have been like any other day inside the apartment. doyoung's already gone in the morning to attend classes. though not before setting a tray of your brunch on the nightstand, making sure to lock your door on his way out. he knew your nightmares and anxiety kept you up at night, resulting in longer hours of sleep during the day. 

turns out, you moving out of his bedroom had been a blessing in disguise. coming home to an empty apartment has become his biggest fear yet, and you unconsciously found a solution for him. one that doesn’t have him fidgeting on his seat as he counts down the minutes ‘til he’s back by your side.

doyoung smiles unconsciously as he listens to his professor drone on and on in front of him — his mind at peace, knowing you're safe and sound in your little prison.

until he received a text that made his blood run cold.

ty, 11:34 am —im done.

meanwhile, you rouse awake once more to thunderous poundings against your bedroom door. oh no, you thought. it's happening again. this time, there'll be no doyoung barging into your room, half-asleep and hair messy, as he tries to calm you down. you throw the blankets over you as you sob, hugging your legs against your chest as you try to 'wake yourself up' from the hallucination.

the person outside calls for your name, the desperation in their tone alighting a new-found fear in your heart. you don't know what's real anymore. is this truly happening, or is it another hallucination your fucked up mind has conjured up?

"please! it's taeyong! y/n, can you hear me?"

taeyong?

slowly, your head peaks above the blanket, warily staring at the door. doyoung has warned you about these kinds of things, has practically ingrained in your mind that whoever comes looking for you will take you away from him. not to mention, doyoung slipped one time and said he isn’t friends with taeyong anymore.

the banging on the door progresses.

“are you in there? answer me! i can’t find the key!”

you don’t say anything, merely pushing the covers off your body as you keep your eyes fixed on the beating door. it looks like it’s about to pop out its hinges as taeyong relentlessly fights his way inside your room. what are you going to do? do you open the door? oh. right. you can’t do that on your own accord. the key is with doyoung and he isn’t in the apartment at the moment.

all your thoughts come to a halt when the boy outside sends the door flying open, finally breaking the lock with one powerful kick. you flinch back, his actions pushing you on your feet, wanting to place a maximum amount of distance from the intruder. 

taeyong looks frantic, disheveled as he immediately notices your alarmed state. he approaches you cautiously, hands up to show his empty palms. “hey, hey… it’s just me, y/n. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m not the enemy here.”

“doyoung doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

the look of surprise on his face is an answer in itself. for someone doyoung had proudly claimed to have “broken” you’re still quite quick to catch up on things, taeyong observed. and he doesn’t know what to feel about it — pity? guilt?

“that’s not important!” he claims, boldly surging forward to grasp your shoulders with a firm grip. taeyong felt his heart dropping when you flinch under his grasp. 

“listen to me. we need to get you out of here. doyoung isn’t — he isn’t everything you thought he is!” he can’t help but raise his voice, panic surging through him because there’s not much time left and you aren’t exactly cooperating. you’ve been trying to shrug off his hold the whole time. 

“do you think he actually loves you?”

“he does! stop saying bullshit!”

“doyoung never loved anyone and you want to know why? because he’s too in love with his research to care for anything else!” taeyong felt bad to have been so direct, especially when he sees the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. “listen to me, y/n! i’m not the enemy! if there’s anyone you should be pushing away, it’s doyoung! he turned you into his lab rat! you are nothing but a variable in his study! don’t you get it?”

taeyong grabs a firm but gentle hold of your head, trying to make you look at him straight in the eye for the gravity of what he’s about to say to you.

“doyoung had his eye on you since sophomore year. i told him this was a bad idea and that he should change the topic of the research and he was. fucking hell, he was about to scrap the whole thing until your bestfriend died and did you know what that psycho told me? that it was a sign for him to continue the research! and i’ve been pestering him so much that he moved out because he claimed i was going to get in the way of his discovery.

tell you what, if you can tell me right here, right now, that he has mentioned anything — anything at all — about his study to you then everything i’m saying is a lie.”

you have asked doyoung for the longest time about that research but the answers have always been the same. “not yet, my love. it’s not time for it to be seen with your eyes. soon, okay?”

with a voice not louder than a whisper, you ask. “what… what’s his research about?”

you fail to see the sorry look on taeyong’s face. “in psychology, they say a person only develops psychosis mainly through genetics or drugs. although you’re technically already a worthy “lab rat” considering your mom and upbringing, he wanted to expand the external factors of what causes the disorder — grief, grades, toxic family relations…”

you hear a ringing in your ear and a sudden urge to throw up. only, you didn’t have anything to hurl because your brunch remains untouched on your bedside. 

“but he hadn’t been successful. and that’s… that’s where i came along. doyoung thought the medications he’s been giving you isn’t doing what he wanted it to and he knew he needed a little push. i was… i gave him that push. remember the whispers, the banging on the door at night? it was all me. he made me do it. you know what that means, right? you’re not crazy. you don’t need to stay here cooped up like some kind of pet, believing all his lies as if it’s written in a fucking bible —”

he stops. and if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t’ve heard the familiar beeps of the front door’s automated lock going off. doyoung’s home. 

in lightning speed, taeyong has you sheltered behind him, throwing his warm coat over you in the process, hoping to give the smallest comfort amidst the chaos that’s about to erupt. there’s no point in pretending or hiding — one look at that lock and his crazy friend would know something’s off. 

taeyong feels you flinching behind him with every heavy footstep against the floorboards as doyoung wastes no time in getting to your room. and when he finally appears, hands braced against the door frame, you’ve never been this scared your whole life. his eyes are drawn into slits, fixated on taeyong alone. “how fucking dare you?”

“it’s over, doyoung. give it up or you wouldn’t have to suffer a longer sentence than you’ll already get.” taeyong tried with his whole being to appear intimidating.

“what’re you saying, yong? i meant, how fucking dare you barge in here and disturb my girlfriend in her sleep? that’s not very nice of you…” doyoung sports a disarming gummy smile as he approaches, hand outstretched and beckoning towards you. “c’mere, baby. i don’t think you’ve eaten lunch yet?”

“drop the fucking act, you psycho!”

“what act?” doyoung tilts his head innocently, gaze shifting from taeyong’s and yours, who keeps peeking from over his ex-friend’s shoulder. luring you out is a piece of cake unless taeyong decides to make things a wee bit more complicated, doyoung thought. “i’m just concerned for my darl —”

“we’re leaving.” taeyong cuts him off, breaking eye contact as he places a firm grip around your wrist. he pulls you towards him, farther away from your supposed lover as he tries walking past doyoung. 

but the said man pushes taeyong back with a humorless smile on his face. “and who told you that you can do that?”

a pregnant silence befalls the room as the two men size each other up. they regard each other with such hostility, you can't help but unconsciously fist the back of taeyong's sweater in nervousness, prompting the man to turn his head over his shoulder for a swift second to check up on you.

but a second is all that doyoung needed to deliver the first kick towards taeyong's legs, throwing him off his balance. if it was one thing doyoung knew, is that he needed to eliminate taeyong's agility all together if he wants to win against him. 

but taeyong isn't one to back down. the moment doyoung straddles him on the floor, with a fist raised to throw a punch, taeyong grunts as he rolls them around. doyoung now receiving taeyong's rain of fists as he yells. "fuck you! you manipulative asshole!"

you sat on the corner, horrified of the scene happening before you. you've never seen doyoung this way. he has always been your sweet, caring bunny, but after everything taeyong said, you aren't so sure you even know the man you've been living with. 

"everything i did, i did it for her!" you flinch at the sound of bones breaking as doyoung kicked taeyong's ribs. "she had nothing to lose! i saved her!"

the door is open, you noticed. wide-open and inviting you to make a run for it. and you would have made a run for it...  but taeyong. you can't leave him behind, not when he lays there bloody and grunting in pain as doyoung lets his anger take over him. so, as stupid as may be, you did it. you had to.

"you didn't save me," you say, schooling your face into indifference as doyoung whips around, forgetting about taeyong in the bat of an eye. "you caged me in here, treated me like there's something wrong with me, gaslighted me into believing everything you said! and... what did you say? 'saved me'? you made me go through hell!"

the whole time, taeyong tries his hardest to stand upright, but his broken ribs don't allow him to. the pain too great that he had no choice but to crawl instead, arms pulling his weight as he drags himself across the floorboards, desperately trying to get doyoung's attention back on him even if it meant getting beaten to death.

meanwhile, he had his eyes trained on you the whole time you spoke, sobbing as you walk backward in fear as doyoung approached you with a dark glint in his eye. he doesn't like what you're saying; that much is very clear. he wanted to yell at you, to scream of your ungratefulness despite his constant care but instead, he says.

"i thought we were making progress, baby. i guess i have to drill everything in your brain again. you're not okay, but you will be after i treat you."

you try to fight the urge to look at taeyong as he finds his strength, silently rising up from the floor to ambush doyoung while he's so busy preaching about you. 

"what i said is true, baby. do you actually think this scum over here is doing this to save you? do you actually believe everything he said? i've been here since day-1, my love. literally. and have i ever let you down? no. everything i'm doing is for us. even this damned research!"

taeyong surges forward to put him in a chokehold, but everything happened so fast, and the next thing you knew —

"did you actually think i'd fall for that?"

you didn't know the sound of a knife cutting through flesh could sound that loud, but nothing could beat the strained gasp that tumbled through taeyong's lips as he shakily held the knife pierced through his heart. you would've been concerned about how doyoung got it so accurate in one go or where the knife even came from. but you were too busy screaming, collapsing against the wall as you let out a broken sob. 

"no," you mutter. "no, no, no..."

you can't bear to avert your eyes from taeyong as he lies dying before you. the look of fear in his eyes would forever be ingrained in your mind, and no amount of brainwashing or gaslighting would ever make you forget.

doyoung killed him. you lost.

the knife clatters loudly on the floor as he slowly turns around as if he himself has yet to register what he did. you didn't know what to expect from doyoung's reaction but certainly not the eerie smile that starts spreading on his face. 

"now... how about that lunch, baby?"

✉ : a repost no one asked but i respectfully dont give a fuck <3

[designatedbreadbox]

You're my diamond.

Mammon x GN!MC

Mammon's rarely used dark side is shown and displayed after a few humans get too cocky and confident for his liking towards you. Comfort ensues.

Wordcount: 1.5k

CW: a few uncensored swear words

How could he not? You always looked stunning in them. You always looked so dazzling, so gorgeous when you wore them that you screamed royalty whenever you did. So beautiful, in fact, that Mammon felt like it was almost a crime in itself.

Mammon sat ontop of his throne lounging lazily, the dark, black metal reflecting the light that was shone on it. The red, plush velvet was comfortable enough to make the cold metal of the throne unnoticeable. He was in his demon form; silver rings adorned both of his hands, and one of them had a big, tear-drop topaz in the middle. He had his phone in one hand and was holding a big, dark blue diamond in the other. Not only was is one of the rarest diamonds to exist, and the most expensive, but it also reminded him of you; he thought that maybe he can turn it into jewelry of your liking. Mammon always loved seeing you in gems, especially diamonds; and the shinier and flashier it was, the better.

Almost.

Mammon wanted to see you again; you went back to the human world after looking unwell regardless of how much rest you spent at his hidden manor. His brothers helped him discover that it was because of the lack of sunlight. Humans needed the sun to survive in numerous ways and no amount of supplements could hope to compensate for that. The first year at the Devildom was fine; so was the year after that, and your 3rd year here was okay.

The 4th year, however, showed unsettling results. You kept getting sick more and more often; you became more tired and while that meant more naps with Belphie, it got to the point where you could've rivaled him for the "Avatar of Sloth" title. Your joints ached in general, and because of that, you became irritable, hoping that your joints would stop aching after you slept. That in turn only led to you having low energy throughout the day which dipped into taking more naps, and the cycle repeats.

You both came to a conclusion; you would go back to the human world, but when you got better again, you would get summoned by Diavolo to spend frequent weeks in the Devildom. It sucked, having to see and hold you for a week and then say goodbye just to see you again the week after but Mammon could manage it. Besides, Diavolo didn't mind this arrangement at all.

Mammon was too busy lost in thought planning of fun activities to do with you, looking at the dark blue diamond to notice a Greed lesser demon standing at the foot of his throne. His attention was brought to him by a loud "Ahem"! He lowered the diamond slightly, turning his head to look at the lesser demon with an uninterested look in his eyes.

'What do ya want?' Mammon asked, 'I'm busy here.'

"Someone stole the shipment of money that was supposs to arrive today." The Greed lesser demon replied; he was nervous at how he drew the short straw to tell Mammon where his promised money went.

"SOMEONE DID WHAT?!??!!??" Mammon roared, putting the diamond on his seat as he rose to stand.

"U-uhm, we found that it was stolen near Ash Valley. We have uh, we have found 2 people of interest that could have coordinated their groups to get away with that."

"GIVE ME THEIR NAMES! MY NAME IS MAMMON, THE AVATAR OF GREED! NO ONE TAKES MY MONEY! I'LL--"

Mammon was cut off at the feel being summoned. The lesser demon knew better than to take anything while Mammon was gone, so just as Mammon left the room, so did he. Mammon got hit by the blinding light for a second before seeing himself in front of a big group of human men. It was dark, and the park Mammon found himself in seemed to be a big one. His face was already twisted in anger, but when he looked back and saw his human breathless; their face showed fear, tears forming at their eyes.

That was all Mammon needed to know; it didn't matter if MC angered them or if they started preying after MC. Mammon's face grew even darker, a low growl coming from his throat. He would've just left it at that, but why should he? Some fucker in the Devildom stole his loot and now some group of revolting, groveling, pathetic human men thought to try something with MC? His MC? No no no, his already worsened mood just got even crappier and he desperately needed an outlet.

So thank everything unholy for this perfect moment.

Mammon cracked his hands, a sadistic grin now forming on his face. With his speed and strength, this could easily be a cakewalk. But why waste such a lovely moment?

'Alright, ya sons of bitches,' Mammon said coldy, 'let's get cracking.'

MC turned around and covered their ears as hard as they could, trying as best as they could to block out the men's screams of anguish and agony. Mammon made sure to make it slow; breaking their legs so they couldn't run, then making deep scratches in them as he describes what other fun things he might do if they stay alive long enough. Eventually, Mammon started to grow bored with this and then just started ripping limbs off, ignoring the screams with a cold, bored expression. He used a somewhat non-bloodied shirt to get the blood off of him as much as possible, knowing how much MC hated the sight of seeing him covered in blood. Especially if the blood wasn't his.

His whole demeanor changed as he started to gingerly walk towards MC, cupping their face to check for injuries. After being satisfied with his investigation and finding no injuries whatsoever, he slowly tugged them away from the scene he made. He sat them on a bench and stood in front them, hugging MC as they buried their face into his exposed stomach.

Mammon rubbed their back, hoping to ease them of their tension. After a few minutes, MC slowly pulled away and looked at him in his eyes. He backed away to let them stand, looking at them in worry.

"Hey, are ya alright?" He spoke softly to avoid potentially overwhelming them.

Mammon was still worried over them, anger at his own problems and the now deceased men melting away. He offered to carry them back to their place and after recieving a yes, picked them up to carry them bridal style. He could feel MC's weight in his arms, but not enough for him to struggle or complain about it. They were alot easier to carry than the last time he tried to carry Beel, who was like 99.6% pure muscle, to prove how strong Mammon was.

"Yea, yea I am, now. Thanks for helping me, dear." MC responded, their face slightly turning into a loving expression.

The pair made their way to MC's place after getting directions and having to double back twice. MC could faintly smell the blood that came off of Mammon, most of it dried. He set MC down to allow them to open the door and stepped inside their place.

Mammon stood there awkwardly in his demon form, looking at MC. "So uh, where's ya bathroom?"

"Down the hall; on the right."

"Right. Thanks sweetie." He enteres the bathroom and soon MC heard the sound of water running. They went to their bedroom to change into a set of pajamas. Another look over at their body to make sure there weren't any injuries; Mammon would freak out if he saw any. Once changed, MC went back to living room to see Mammon sitting on the couch in his everyday clothes minus his jacket; his fluffy white hair was now damp. He had a blanket draped over him like a tent.

He's blushing now as he opened his blanket tent, mumbling for MC to get inside. They laughed, then joined Mammon, snuggling against him. He made them sit low enough in his lap for him to put his head ontop of theirs.

'Tch, dumb humans,' he said, eyes narrowing as he recounted the memory, 'why didn't ya summon me sooner? I could've stopped 'em faster.'

They felt him talk against their head; they couldn't see his face, but they guessed he was upset. "I didn't think they would follow me. It was a busy street where I was walking; I never payed attention to them."

"Still. The Great Mammon would've gave 'em a look that'll make 'em run back to their mothers."

MC leaned more against him and closed their eyes, feeling a little sleepy; they had to stifle a yawn. "Mhmm. But I don't need The Great Mammon right now. Right now, I want my boyfriend."

For some reason, MC's words made his heart melt, and he began stuttering what they meant and that The Great Mammon was their boyfriend, not some random demon when. . .

he realized they fell asleep while hearing him stutter ramble.

He choked upon seeing how cute his human looked while sleeping. He started rubbing their head, trying not to possibly wake them up.

Tch, stupid fuckin' humans, tryna take advantage of my human, Mammon thought. The nerve of those jerks. They're my human, and no one elses!

Mammon took another look at MC. No, they're not my human. They're worth more than what any realm has to offer in riches or gold. MC's like a diamond; shiny, radiant, and makes me really happy. Yea, that's it!

Like a diamond, Mammon chuckled softly. They're my diamond.

[lucian-evander]

Hey so i said i would do this 30 days of autism acceptance challenge and it's april 6th and i haven't done anything until now 😅 and i'm pretty sure i'll keep messing up the days to be honest 😅😂

Anyway here we go

April 1st: Introduce yourself. Talk about who you are as a person. Your age, hobbies, special interests, family, etc. Anything you feel comfortable sharing.

Well i think if you see this post you probably follow me and know me a little but for the others : i'm Lorcan, i use he/him pronoms, i'm french and i'm 18 . My hobbies ? Well honestly i spend way too much time on tumblr, i read and watch tv and i make stuff in leather when i have the energy. My special interests are the mysterious cities of gold (i've been obsessed since i was 9 ) , my ocs , queer pride stuff , playmobils, i also started being really into badges these last months . Badminton, Narnia, the 100 and the 16th century used to be some too.

April 2nd: Post your redinstead photos today. Alternatively, you could talk about what autistic pride/autism acceptance month means to you.

Ok that's the one that kept me from starting this challenge in time because the only red thing i own is a cape and i refuse to wear a cape with a hoodie so i need to remember where i put my other historical clothes, i'll maybe post a pic at some point in the month if i can

April 3rd: Talk about jobs. Do you currently work or have you worked before? Was it hard for you to find a job? Does your job work well regarding your autism? Alternatively, if you don't work, what was school like for you as an autistic person? What was good about school? What was bad?

I don't currently work and never worked before , i spent half of my school years working at home , i was in advance of 3 years and since the schools didn't want me my mother was the one that dropped her job to teach me at home until i reached 4th grade, the actual school years weren't good but they could have been worse, my mom always fought for me to get more suitable works and helped me a lot with lessons and stuff , also this school was very little (like 70 people maximum in the whole school which went from kindergarten to 9th grade ) and only 5 teachers so high school was easier that it would have been in a classic school (the bad side of it was that it was a very traditional catholic school 😅), then in the middle of 9th grade i left and studied at home for 4 years waiting to be old enough to start a professional training , i started clock making studies at 16 and let's say it was a mix of things : too much hours for me (5 hours in a row is way too much for me), the whole covid crisis, my lack of motivation, teachers misgendering me...but yeah i was able to go only for two months, great..✌🏻/s . Also i never was able to pass my baccalauréat (main french diploma at the ends of the grades) because i can't pass the oral tests .

April 4th: Talk about humor. Do you feel that your autism affects your sense of humor in any way? Are there any inside jokes in the autism community that you really like?

I kinda struggled with humor when i was younger like knowing what was a joke and what wasn't ect...and sometimes i still do when i don't know the person talking because some persons make jokes with a whole serious face so it can be confusing . But overall my parents both have a big and kinda dark sense of humor and they gave it to me to the point where my first reflex in a convo is to joke so yeah humor takes a big place in my life.

April 5th: Talk about instances of miscommunication. Are there any examples you can give for a time where you misinterpreted an interaction with someone else or them you? What do you think went wrong with that interaction?

That definitely happened but i can't think of any exemples right now 🤔. It happens mainly when people say stuff that isn't clear enough / can be understood in several differents ways and very rarely with people i know well.

April 6th: Do you tend to infodump about things that you're interested in?

Yeah absolutely i think my mom must be happy that there won't be any more seasons of the mysterious cities of gold because it took 4 years for the season 4 to come out and she had to hear all my théories for hours during these 4 years 😂. Also when i learn about a new thing i tend to share everything i just learnt which is theorically ok i just have to learn to stop when i see that people aren't in the mood

If you reached that part 👏🏻 i would have never read all that 😂

[im-caught-up-in-thoughts]

I figured I would recap my life a little bit. Starting from the beginning.

My parents, were pretty much either fighting, trying to make it work for me at age 5. Of course, it didn't work. I also was in kindergarten the first time, and then again the next year. I was dragged to gym class by my wrist. Whoever thought someone was supposed to run 10 laps was out of there mind in my mind, and that gets worse. First grade, I moved back home with my grandparents and mom. Which meant going back to that school. I was having problems with ear aches, where my ears would bleed. I got tubes put in twice and the second time it was like they never wanted to come out. Second grade, that teacher and I got along pretty well. She was probably the only one out of all of them that cared if you succeed or not. I had her twice. Which now made me 1-2 years older than my classmates. And it still stands as the only one that cared. She was also the only one that knew that my mom was going to be in jail/treatment for the first time. 3rd grade sucked, I has no idea what I was trying to do at all. 4th grade, this is where I met j. I don't know why I like him, I don't think I'll ever have an answer to why my heart decided that he's it. And to be honest that was pretty much the year because everything else pretty much sucked, I couldn't do the work. 5th grade, sucked couldn't do the work. 6th grade... this is where kindergarten looks great. This teacher, she wanted to go through the lesson so fast so she could go sit down and drink her coffee. Meanwhile, she's got names on the backboard of people/students missing work and she refuses to help them. But that's not even the worse thing. So as I've stated I couldn't keep up with the work, I failed pretty much everything, and one day I was like well this can't get much worse so I was like I don't get this and keep in my the whole class just got done staring at me because she said j's name, and she must of hated that because she told me to read the directions as if that's not something you do right away. Also my mom was back in jail/treatment for the 3rd time..After that, I left and went to online school and unfortunately nothing changed so i went back to that school which again nothing changed I went to a different online school and then I went into the doctor and I got referred to get tested for a learning disorder. Sure enough I've got a comprehensive disorder which means I can easily forget something I just read or saw. I went through therapy for it and weights were lifted off my chest for the first time in forever. I started being able to pass my classes and I had help if I needed it. Even though, I still graduated at 21, I still fucking made it out. By 21, I had my gallbladder removed and was having digestion issues and back pain. By 23, I found out that I've got spinal stenosis, degenerative disc disease and a protruding disco in my back all causing pain. The digestion issues are from having no gallbladder as I found out as well. I also had a cyst removed in 2020. Now it's 2022, I'm 24 going on 25, I'm learning to drive, by spring I'm hoping to past the behind the wheel test.

After all these years my mental health was so bad when I started this in 2012. I was 15/16. Today, I'm doing okay, I have my good days, I have my bad days, and I'm constantly in pain with my back and if I eat I'm just done for. But I've realized, that you have to try to see some positive out of everything or you're going to be so unhappy in life. And I've been thinking that way for a few years now, but I just thought that it's a good point to make since Betty White also has stated that's how she made it to 99. And I was so hoping she would make it to that 100th birthday.

So some of you maybe struggling, with personal life,medical issues, daily tasks, school work,or maybe getting out of bed is the big task of the day. I hope your 2022 goes really well, and you have some goals you succeed at, and if it's cleaning your room or talking to people, it's the little things that count as well!

[spineless145910]

Will be updating my account tonight May 3rd for May 4th with a different account because of of culture and accounts on my previous phone, phone got stole.

Play tuff some more government and ordain yourself over me through any other government. Personal bias about it?

Rough Draft:

I ask you do not click on my Tumblr account, do not work on this information, and do not read my Tumblr account Friday- Sunday and all holidays. "Mutual to all faith." (For my own defense).

To the ladies, to talk about life a little since yah.....

I believe you rather be outside sleeping or in your own house or own apartment that you pay for yourself? Why? I love to share?

To thought:

Did you know, me as man, paid for his own house, own car, own cloths, own food, own cell phone, own internet, own TV, own washer, own dryer and own etc.

Do you have a good credit score or does your dad have a good credit score?

Did you know you as a lady shall need to make a down payment on all those items yourself which shall cost at least $10,000.

Why? Me as a man am not that generous for you to sit in my house, drive my car, use my washer, use my dryer, use my internet, and etc.

While you open your legs for me to find your virginity....... Is your husband saying its ok for me since your walking without a leash? Was it your first husband that you lost your virginity too or second husband that you met after?

Why?

I will explain after I give you my upcoming account giving more definitive answers.

Peace

To the thought that ladies, you have mistakes is, not an excuse, because, Deuteronomy chapter 30.

Choice, to choose, life or revenge of/in death. Amien

Then you shall need to have a credit score, if, I took out a loan from a bank that requires credit.

A neutral book on the study of politeness in our community that is for all religious faiths:

https://books.google.com/books?id=SL5DQB1J6DUC&printsec=frontcover&dq=lashon+hara&hl=en&newbks=1&newbks_redir=0&source=gb_mobile_search&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiwi7--v9nvAhVFEawKHVolC7I4ChDoATAIegQIAxAD

Mutual to all faith in this, defined as: Please only live a righteous life by God's name, as listed; Sit at home with family, eat dinner with family, play video games, study the Bible, wife, cook, clean, take care of the kids and/similar.

Beware: To avenge, myself, the community talks behind your back. In defense, I agree in some cases, yet, in some, not. 

At the same time, to tell you it is occurring is to not attack you from behind. 

https://public.courts.in.gov/mycase/#/vw/SearchResults/eyJ2Ijp7Ik1vZGUiOiJCeVBhcnR5IiwiQ2FzZU51bSI6bnVsbCwiQ2l0ZU51bSI6bnVsbCwiQ3Jvc3NSZWZOdW0iOm51bGwsIkZpcnN0IjoiQ2hhZCIsIk1pZGRsZSI6bnVsbCwiTGFzdCI6IkJ1Y2tsZXkiLCJCdXNpbmVzcyI6bnVsbCwiRG9CU3RhcnQiOm51bGwsIkRvQkVuZCI6bnVsbCwiT0FOdW0iOm51bGwsIkJhck51bSI6bnVsbCwiU291bmRFeCI6ZmFsc2UsIkNvdXJ0SXRlbUlEIjo5MiwiQ2F0ZWdvcmllcyI6bnVsbCwiTGltaXRzIjpudWxsLCJBZHZhbmNlZCI6ZmFsc2UsIkFjdGl2ZUZsYWciOiJBbGwiLCJGaWxlU3RhcnQiOm51bGwsIkZpbGVFbmQiOm51bGwsIkNvdW50eUNvZGUiOm51bGx9fQ==

In general, supportive, to the judicial system of life, in the system.

All of which, I preach over the fact of God's law being broke such as; Eating kosher for example, in comparison, to humans hurting humans. 

Yet, I do not believe God's law shall be broke. (Not saying gods law of kosher doesn't not exist but, being kind to your fellow man, in a sense of steal, robbing, murder, adultery, and/or etc is more important than eating kosher but, to not want to take away from eating kosher. 

Eating kosher is important but, [if], your faith does not demand eating kosher. 

*I believe that is, [fair to you], and your faith of choice.

"We/I am not perfect and wasn't raised in faith, myself, but, I preached faith around me in my youth." [Which lead to a due of preaching and life instead of death].

In my Bible, it teaches to show no regards to the older generation and show the youth regards as an older generation not only for the kids but your own defense as an older human. (Mutual in faith, in my opinion). 

In definition of showing the older generation, no regards as a youth, is defined though honoring your father and mother and/or  if necessary, show god a regards, because, your dad and mom were criminals or bad individuals who broke the laws of God against the human race. 

(Preaching importance of shall not murder, shall not steal, shall not commit adultery, and/or similar).

The point of Chad calling the people to preach my or his or your life matters as a youth, himself, is charming to my life and an attack, behind my back, demanding you serve or work for him behind my back stealing my choice in revenge. 

The thought of liability risk in business for Chad Buckley to preach is illegal and revenge, against me in life to faith tjrough the older generation and the judicial system, itself. Business.

The point of me releasing this, is not for the community to avenge Chad Buckely or seek revenge against me but, leave him ignorant to his beliefs thinking I am willing  to assist you in argument to assist Chad Buckely past my choice when I am not willing to assist Chad Buckely at all. 

Envy, revenge, jealously, hate, and discrimination may rise as a question of law?

I am avenging my belief and upholding the judicial system, through god, in my faith or belief of common law. 

The marijuana truth to God and it's truths in America:

At the time of 15ish years of age a guy named Chad Buckley walked up too me on the track field, claimed to say, "remember me." I was the guy you met through Billy Ortiz.

Chad Buckley who is a Roman Catholic blamed Billy Ortiz, blamed his dad, blamed his mom, and blames all his friends failing to take responsibility for his actions.

Asking for the  rest of the lint from my pocket's, you don't need Billy anymore. 

I'll give you drugs, without him.

I met Billy Ortiz at the age of about 8 years old. He asked me too smoke weed at 12 years of age talking about how it is cool to smoke weed.

When I was 18 years of age in Porter county jail, my past associates  decided to visit me being apart of jail for my dues to life and God.

At the age of 26, I walked out of prison. No one complained from my youth about how they shall want me to do correct.

[Maybe] claiming the prison system was for there teaching to do correct on my own. Asking the community to avenge their actions all failing to take responsibility for their actions blaming everyone except themselves for as to why I was who I was.

I may of said no to drugs but it was the fact that they were using drugs and asking others to illegally get high.

Yet, the teachers forgot to care and talk instead of remaining silent and fail to defend themselves against there negative influence.

The point of me doing wrong and none of of my past messaged  asking for care and righteous work today showed they rather me learn on my own.

Police could only teach for those who deserved dues under the scripture of work dues being held overnight. (Police taught me right for themselves and another like them which are individuals who worked and did not believe in drugs and/or criminal activity.

Now, since none show up to care at my house after prison except police and good individuals because police can't avenge guilty individuals themselves unless their people had dues with good work ethics of no criminal activity too agree and support.

This shall teach you about the poor, middle class, and rich. (No matter your class your eligible for the work due).

He blamed Billy Ortiz and/or used Billy Ortizs mistake to avenge himself trying to claim his dad was his worst dad.

Having a step dad and a mom and individuals around him that care.

Chad Buckley went to Purdue attained a 3.0 - 3.5 GPA for the same fact for as to why he blamed everyone for his choice.Amien

Now here is the truth about marijuana and liability risk. Argue? Sure? Maybe you shall lay down and give up in this house and do us all a favor? 

Amien

https://public.courts.in.gov/mycase/#/vw/SearchResults/eyJ2Ijp7Ik1vZGUiOiJCeVBhcnR5IiwiQ2FzZU51bSI6bnVsbCwiQ2l0ZU51bSI6bnVsbCwiQ3Jvc3NSZWZOdW0iOm51bGwsIkZpcnN0IjoiQ2hhZCIsIk1pZGRsZSI6bnVsbCwiTGFzdCI6IkJ1Y2tsZXkiLCJCdXNpbmVzcyI6bnVsbCwiRG9CU3RhcnQiOm51bGwsIkRvQkVuZCI6bnVsbCwiT0FOdW0iOm51bGwsIkJhck51bSI6bnVsbCwiU291bmRFeCI6ZmFsc2UsIkNvdXJ0SXRlbUlEIjo5MiwiQ2F0ZWdvcmllcyI6bnVsbCwiTGltaXRzIjpudWxsLCJBZHZhbmNlZCI6ZmFsc2UsIkFjdGl2ZUZsYWciOiJBbGwiLCJGaWxlU3RhcnQiOm51bGwsIkZpbGVFbmQiOm51bGwsIkNvdW50eUNvZGUiOm51bGx9fQ==

For my personal repentance, progress removing my tattoos.

Amien

[automaticcoffeecloud-blog]

5 more minutes...

I've written this blog in my head probably 15 times... all different. Some versions were sad, some angry, some empowering... all had a common theme: this weekend.

This weekend... ugghhh... my most dreaded weekend all year long. The only thing that I could see as the silver lining, was that these two days were next to each other. Not chronologically speaking, as they occured 10 years apart and in the opposite order, but every year, they fall next to each other. Boom, I would suffer for 2 days and then I could forget about them for another 363 days. Not too shabby.

March 3 - the day the words "Eighteen Years" felt more like a slap in the face than justice.

March 4 - the day I thought I'd never breathe again.

Both dates enduce anxiety, sadness, guilt and anger. They do every single year, without fail. There are songs I cannot listen to on these days because I'll break. All the hard exterior just crumbles and I'm right back in that place again... except, this year. I'm done. I refuse to spend one more year being sad and torturing myself. So let's address this.

March 3rd. You were undoubtedly, the single most victorious moment I've ever had as a mother. I was trembling to my core. I was scared, unsure, hurt and angry... but I faced you. I stood there, knees shaking, holding my mother and my daughter's hands, and I faced you. I was strong, courageous, unrelenting and most importantly, loved. All around me was love... my family and friends were there to hold me. And that day, with God's hands all over us, love, honor and truth prevailed. That is a win, not a sad moment.

You will, from this point forward, be known as the day mom kicked ass! (SN: Believe me, I'm not disillusioned enough to believe it was all me, it wasn't. There were 3 families involved and we all won that day, together.)

March 4th. I hate you. I hate you ever came and that you will never come back. You took my dad. Like a theif in the night, you snuck up and just took him with no warning. You absoluetly broke my heart. But you know what you also brought that day? The child who overheard his parents (part of our pastrol family) discussing the accident and whom would come to the hospital... right there, that baby accepted Jesus. You cannot take my memories like you did my dad... the boat rides, the lake moments, softball arguements, bubble gum or Blue Chevy pick ups... all the fun moments. I will always be sad because I miss him, but I'll remember that last day we had together.

Maybe 5 minutes total... the kids asleep in the car, but I had to show him Ethan's first big boy haircut. We didn't get out of the car because Ethan had been sickly and dad didn't want him to catch the cold Chase had. I pulled up to the front door, Dad peeked in the car and tried to be quiet as not to wake Ethan. He wasn't very good at being quiet, but Ethan was good at sleeping! I remember how Dad beamed with pride when he saw him. Ethan had the longest, thickest hair and dad couldn't wait for this day... and boy was he happy.

We chit-chatted for a few minutes, he hugged me and then we drove off.... That was a good day, I can still smell the spring that was in the air... and I think from this point forward, I'll choose to remember this as our last. That memory is never sad. He was so happy.

All this rambling to say, I've changed my perspective. I'm tired of being sad on two of the best moments of my life! Moments that helped shape me into the woman I am today. I didn't spend this last year becoming a better me just to let two days break me. I will not let it keep being neagtive. It doesn't have to be... because, I choose joy. Every day, especially these two, I choose joy... but yeah, I'd still like 5 more minutes. ❤😊

https://youtu.be/2dPDBU9MC8c

[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: Session 6.5

A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at. [Campaign log]

Last time, Looseleaf and Saelhen fought their way to the top of the evil torture tower of the evil torture wizard- only to find out that the guy's been dead for at least a year, and that a dragon has apparently been squatting in his tower. Not content to wait another week to find out what this means, we had an off-schedule mini-session wherein the party finished exploring the unexplored nooks and crannies of Lumiere's Tower.

The first thing to deal with is the thing blocking their return down the stairs- there's a weird big metal coffin-looking dealie that waddled up to the stairs on the fourth floor, but couldn't chase them any further. Going back down, though... they could take a window, but they figure there's no way this thing could be a serious threat. It can barely move, after all- they can probably just push it right over!

Looseleaf pokes it with a stick, and its front splits open down the middle, revealing a giant maw of horrible spikes which snaps at her threateningly.

So it's an iron maiden! Adorable! Still doesn't have legs, or arms, so it's fine, right? They can just stand on the stairs and

whoops nope it's got animated canvas straps inside it that shoot out and ensnare orluthe like a chameleon tongue. okay. so maybe this monster is dangerous actually.

The ensuing fight makes heavy use of a mechanic in D&D called "called shots", where you can take disadvantage on an attack roll in exchange for inflicting some kind of injury on the opponent by hitting them in different specific body parts. They don't want to let Orluthe get shut inside and take a fuckload of stab damage, so they jam Looseleaf's quarterstaff in the doors, slice up its canvas straps, and by force of numbers manage to render nearly all its appendages impotent. The poor torture instrument has disadvantage on all its attack rolls after the called shots go through, and it can't land any more hits! The party eventually wears it down, and Looseleaf lands the finishing blow by scrambling its spirit.

All that's left in their way is the translucent red barrier blocking off the 3rd/4th floor stairs. Not finding anything on the fourth floor to shut it off, they just go via the window like before. Back down on the third floor, Looseleaf uses her spirit sight to notice that the barrier is connected magically to some runes inscribed on the central pillar- it looks like there's some sort of creepy puzzle involving stabbing creepy dolls with creepy doll-sized knives.

Not interested in risking whatever the consequences of solving the puzzle wrong are (given that they already have a way up and down), they move on.

While they're there, Saelhen decides to take another crack at the trapped chest she couldn't open earlier. Rather than risk the trap, she first spends some time expertly disarming the trap built into the lock, before working on the lock itself. A couple good rolls later, and they acquire the treasure! Which is... 60 gold pieces, and a piece of paper with a list of words.

Saelhen fails her Nature check, but Looseleaf recognizes the words on the paper as... the names of craters and other geographical features of the moon.

[WAR_FLASHBACKS.jpg]

No one's quite sure why a list of moon landmarks would be locked up in a highly-secure chest protected by a poison needle trap, but no one rolls high enough on Religion to puzzle it out.

Moving on down, they reach the second floor, which appears to be a laundry room of some sort. The sort where the irons and ironing boards and scrub brushes are alive, and appear to be washing the same clothes over and over and over to the point where most of them have been reduced to sparklingly clean rags. Seems like these animated household objects have been stuck on a loop for a good long time!

There's what appears to be an intact magical cloak hanging on a clothesline in there, but the party opts not to try and take it- doing so would likely provoke some protective laundry automatons.

Saelhen's plan to lure the scrub brush away from the washtub (for... reasons??) fails, since the brush doesn't seem to want to leave the tub- and it's visibly disappointed when Saelhen gives up.

So, they head down to the first floor, finally! As they head down, they're noticed by more animated knives... but it seems these ones have been tasked with cooking a delicious meal, which they happily serve up to the tower's guests! The wheelbarrow from before is there, too, supplying the kitchen with food. The only question is... who's been eating this stuff? Why is the table not covered in rotten, uneaten banquet, if the wizard's been dead? Who's been putting grocery money in the wheelbarrow?

Other things of note in the room...

Benedict I. (GM): The shelves around the center seem to be festooned with various trophies and awards. Looseleaf: trophies. what, like, participation trophies??? school trophies? piano recital trophies?? Benedict I. (GM): These would actually be somewhat recognizable to most of you- you've seen similar things in trophy cases at school. The plaques beneath them seem blacked out in various places- a lot of [REDACTED]. Looseleaf: warball champions of the 1034 school year? Benedict I. (GM): Often built into the plaques. Saelhen du Fishercrown: huh who redacts a plaque Benedict I. (GM): Like, there'll be a flat section of the plaque painted black like it was engraved that way

Looseleaf, with a 20, Investigates a bunch of pertinent information. For instance, a diploma:

Hal Lumiere, PhD in [______]. Blacksky University, Department of Restricted Arts

It appears Hal Lumiere was an alumnus of Blacksky's School of Restricted Arts- the same place Vayen is from. Lumiere was apparently something of a darling there, considering all the awards- but no one in the party has ever heard of him. Except maybe a certain someone who's not telling.

Looseleaf also finds some unopened mail! One is illegible, written in Abyssal, the language of demons.

(Lore note on demons: demons are just like other monsters- evil things that come up from below the mountains and cause trouble. They aren't generally aware of their origins beyond waking up in a deep cave, usually, and aren't motivated by much except causing conflict and hurting people.)

Another letter is written in Common, with just plain awful handwriting:

"hey Lumes why tf arent you home today u fuckin flake ass fairyboy. who am i supposed to get that dank good ouch from if youre off on magic adfentures. this months number shits are: 14.3 6755 304° and then the little bar thing was on the green side but wobbly. now gimmeeeeeee"

It's a bit of an enigma- but even more enigmatic is the third letter Looseleaf finds, written in a hand Looseleaf recognizes. Looseleaf knows who this letter was written by.

"Dr. Lumiere- find enclosed the new spirit hollowing diagrams and the corrected sigil of Aaaaaaagh. This should satisfy our agreement, so I'll leave you with a warning: the lesser gods are not to be trusted." "Yes, their revolution is our best shot at the Project- that much is obvious, barring a road to apotheosis. I understand we need to work with them. I doubt we'll have further contact, so I won't ask you not to reignite this argument- but insofar as it's at all relevant to you in the future, I favor your approach over Kron Green's." "But again, they are not to be trusted. The enemy of our enemy wishes mainly to supplant them, and despite their alliance, not all of them share the same aims. In particular, the one you've taken an interest in seems utterly hostile to the Project. " "If we are to impact the cosmic boardstate, we must play the game. Trust is the abdication of discovery. Choose your allies carefully." And then it is signed with a mark. The mark is of a book, facedown in the way that ruins the spine, sort of shaped to look like a skull. And the initials "Y.T." Looseleaf: youtube. the villain of our story, youtube. Saelhen du Fishercrown: trust is the abdication of discovery, what a goddamn motto Looseleaf: oh my god she's being so edgy well, that is characteristic of her.

She also finds what appears to be a trophy- but the trophy is shaped to look like a globe. Not of the Jewel, but of the moon. Obviously, they take it.

Some experimentation with the moon trophy seems to indicate that the locations marked on the paper from the chest draw out a sort of connect-the-dots pattern, which might be used elsewhere for some purpose. Whatever the pattern is meant to be used for, there's no indication of it here. All that can reasonably be inferred is that it has some connection to the School of Restricted Arts.

Meanwhile, the bookshelves have a few more things of interest. Amidst textbooks on neurology, magic, and speculative religion on a lower shelf, they find a hand-bound book that seems out-of-place.

Benedict I. (GM): Inside, it appears to be a diary. "i m choss n ths iss MY BOOK," it begins.

It appears to span several years of diary entries, from year 259 to 266- ending seven years before the current date, 273. The handwriting gets progressively less atrocious, and the entries are very sporadic- riddled with apologies to the diary for forgetting to write in it.

Benedict I. (GM): Choss, apparently, is a little girl who grew up in this tower. Initially she was very fond of her dad, the owner of the tower. Looseleaf: initially, huh. that's... a... great sign. Benedict I. (GM): Dad is a cool wizard who does fun magic all the time, which she helps with! She is very proud of how much pain she can withstand, and she's developed this sort of self-image as a connoisseur. Of pain. Saelhen du Fishercrown: hell Saelhen's face is getting progressively... stiffer, as she reads. Not angrier, per se, just... flatter. Benedict I. (GM): She helps out with the experiments except for not being allowed to take the hoods off the subjects in the lab. Looseleaf: Lumiere what the shit. Benedict I. (GM): And when there's no subjects, she fills in, and does a very good job, the best job. There's an entry describing how she designed a security system for her dad- she made some dolls and dad enchanted them so they open the door if you stab them right! She's very proud of it. You now know the order of stabs to disable the barrier. Anyway, the later entries seem to represent... entirely standard teen angst. Looseleaf: Hmm. Benedict I. (GM): Dad is being boring and not letting her do the experiments she wants to do and not letting her visit the towns and ugh dad. She gets fed up with him, and the last entry is about how she's leaving to go start her own life in Wheat. Looseleaf: REALLY NOW. Saelhen du Fishercrown: WELL. Looseleaf: ...god, maybe those rumors about wheat being full of insane murderous murder-os weren't, wrong. Saelhen du Fishercrown: if she is in fact a baby dragon Looseleaf: which is not at all guaranteed, by the way.

If you recall from a few sessions back:

To speak with a dragon is to be condemned to some sort of great misfortune, brought about by your own hand. You know the Simurgh from Worm? Listen to its song for too long, and you become sort of a sleeper agent of self-destructive carnage? It’s like a diet version of that. Whatever path your conversation with the dragon puts you on, it’s invariably bad for you, somehow. The metallic dragons, who’re ostensibly “good”, will still ruin your life in some way just by talking to you, even if your immolation does some good for the world on the way out. Nobody wants to talk to a dragon.

Also discovered in CHOSS BOOK is a brief account of a time she had to go to the basement, using the secret entrance underneath... something. Looseleaf almost immediately checks under the table they're sitting at, and finds... yep! A trapdoor leading to the basement!

Next time: the basement awaits!