#there's glitters and rainbows folks

[starflungwaddledee]

which ocs in the fandom do you find the most interesting? also, which ocs do you think have the most aesthetically pleasing designs? finally, which ocs have you only heard of but would like to know more about?

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh nooooooo ha haaa noooo i can't possibly answer this because it would be soooo unfair to have favourites wouldn't it's comet knight by @kittenvirus

[toastydoll]

I wonder what’s gonna happen to the few leaks we saw of the shadow high models?? If this really is a reboot (which it’s looking more like it is) then they’re probably gonna scrap any unfinished rainbow high projects.

Which, on that note, what’s gonna happen to storywood?

[disgracefulgayness]

Hi so I got back into gravity falls and was reminded of how much I love Stanley Pines, and I would like to share that I think Stan would absolutely capitalize off of pride month, for example :

Stan: Come on folks, get your mystery shack pride month T-shirts!! And don't forget your mystery shack question mark pins, for the confused ones!

Dipper: Grunkle Stan, I don't think this is as progressive as you think it is.

Stan: Progressive is my middle name, now go help your sister paint the sign with glitter.

Mabel: *is painting the mystery shack sign covered head to toe in rainbow glitter*

(Additionally Stan has a pride flag flying on top of the shack, Blubs and Durland bought matching shirts)

[eunseoksimp]

Siren ; Lee Anton

Pairings: Obsessive!Anton x Femme Fatale!Reader

Genre: Angst

Description: at seonghwa academy, you reign like a queen—flawless, untouchable, and cold as ice. your beauty is your weapon, used to control and manipulate those who fall under your spell. but when you catch the eye of anton, a brooding athlete with a quiet intensity, you meet your match. beneath his silence lies a dark obsession, a twisted desire that mirrors your own. as you engage in a dangerous dance of power and control, the line between.

Warnings: manipulation, obsessive behaviour, anton is low-key unhinged, death

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

in the heart of seoul, hidden away from the prying eyes of the common folk, lay seonghwa academy—a sanctuary for the elite. the school was a sprawling estate, its towering gates adorned with intricate gold designs, a symbol of the wealth and privilege that lay within. beyond the gates, the grounds stretched out in a lavish display of manicured gardens, where ancient cherry blossom trees stood sentinel, their delicate pink petals drifting like snowflakes in the gentle breeze.

the main building of the academy was a marvel of architecture, a blend of traditional korean aesthetics and modern grandeur. its walls were of pristine white stone, polished to a shine, with high windows that allowed sunlight to pour in, casting long, golden rays across the polished marble floors.

inside, the halls were wide and lined with portraits of illustrious alumni, men and women who had gone on to shape the world, all of them linked by the common thread of privilege and power. the ceiling soared above, adorned with chandeliers that glittered like a constellation of stars, their crystal drops refracting light into a thousand tiny rainbows that danced across the room.

it was within these halls that you held court, like a queen surveying her kingdom. your presence was a force unto itself, commanding attention without a word, demanding devotion without a single gesture. you moved through the school like a wisp of smoke, impossible to grasp but impossible to ignore. wherever you went, a hush fell over those around you, as if the mere sight of you demanded reverence.

you were beautiful, but not in the way most people imagined when they thought of beauty. it wasn’t just your face, though that was a masterpiece in itself—high cheekbones, a delicate nose, lips that curled into a perfect bow. your skin was like porcelain, flawless and smooth, with a soft, ethereal glow that seemed to emanate from within, your hair, a cascade of black silk, framed a face so perfect it seemed almost unreal, like something crafted by the hands of a deity in a moment of unparalleled inspiration. your eyes, dark and mysterious, held a depth that could drown anyone who dared look too long into them, a dangerous promise hidden behind a veil of innocence.

but it was more than just your physical appearance. your beauty was a weapon, and you wielded it with precision. you were calculating, always two steps ahead, your mind a cold, sharp instrument honed to perfection. everything you did was for your own gain, every smile, every glance, every word spoken was a move in the intricate game you played. you took pleasure in your power, in the way others bent to your will without even realizing they were doing so.

and then there was your voice, soft and low, like velvet brushing against bare skin. when you spoke, people listened. they hung onto your every word, eager to please, desperate to be noticed by you.

boys fell over themselves trying to catch your attention, offering gifts, writing love letters, all in the vain hope that you might spare them a glance. you accepted their offerings with a smile that never reached your eyes, always taking, never giving. you played them like instruments, each one serving a purpose, whether it was to boost your social standing, to gain favors, or simply to amuse yourself. all blinded by the allure of being noticed by someone as unattainable as you were.

girls envied and admired you in equal measure, some even attempting to emulate your style, though none could quite capture the effortless elegance that came so naturally to you. they didn’t realize that what they saw was a facade, a carefully constructed image designed to elicit the desired response from those around you. you knew exactly how to dress, how to speak, how to act to keep them all under your thumb, to keep them guessing, to keep them wanting more.

among the crowd of admirers, anton was different.

anton was handsome, that much was undeniable. he had a certain ruggedness to him, a sharpness to his features that contrasted with the softness of yours. his hair, dark and thick, often fell across his forehead in a tousled mess that only seemed to enhance his brooding appeal. his eyes, a piercing shade of blue, stood out against his tanned skin, giving him an intensity that could be felt even from a distance. he was tall and lean, his athletic build a testament to the hours he spent training on the field, every muscle in his body honed to perfection.

but where you were a beacon of light, drawing everyone towards you, anton was a shadow, always lurking at the edges, observing from afar. he was quiet, almost painfully so, his presence more of a whisper than a shout. while others jostled for your attention, anton remained on the periphery, content—or so it seemed—to watch you from a distance. his eyes followed you wherever you went, though he rarely spoke more than a few words to anyone.

his silence made him a mystery, one that no one seemed able to solve. he was a puzzle, each piece carefully guarded, revealing nothing of the whole. few knew anything about him beyond the superficial; he was good at sports, he was handsome, and he kept to himself. only a handful of people could claim to be his friends, and even they struggled to understand the depths of his thoughts.

where others saw an angel, he saw something more—a force of nature, a tempest that he wanted to be caught in, even if it meant his own destruction. his heart beat faster when you were near, the blood in his veins turning to fire as your scent—jasmine and something darker, something that whispered of forbidden things—wafted through the air.

his shyness was a curse in your presence. while others boldly approached you, offering gifts and compliments, anton remained in the background, his love for you a silent, burning thing that threatened to consume him. he longed to speak to you, to make you see him, truly see him, but the fear of rejection, of shattering the perfect image he had of her in his mind, kept him silent.

but you noticed him, of course. how could you not? unlike the others who fell over themselves to win your favor, anton presented a challenge. he was a puzzle you wanted to solve, not out of any genuine interest, but because you hated the idea that someone in your domain could remain untouched by your influence. there was something in the way he looked at you—intense, almost possessive—that sparked a flicker of interest, but more than that, it was the challenge that intrigued you. here was someone who didn’t play by your rules, and that was unacceptable.

one crisp autumn afternoon, as the sun bathed the campus in a warm, golden light, you were making your way across the courtyard. the air was filled with the soft rustle of leaves as they fell from the trees, carpeting the ground in shades of red and gold. your footsteps were almost silent against the cobblestones, the sound barely audible over the murmurs of students passing by.

ahead, you noticed anton standing with a small group of his friends. they were near the edge of the courtyard, leaning casually against the stone balustrade that overlooked the garden below. though his friends were engaged in light conversation, anton seemed distant, his gaze unfocused as if lost in thought. it wasn’t until you were closer that his eyes snapped to you, a flash of something dark and unreadable crossing his features.

“here she comes,” one of anton’s friends, a tall boy with an easy smile, murmured under his breath, though not quietly enough to escape your notice. “the ice queen herself.”

“more like a goddess,” another boy replied, his tone tinged with admiration. “she doesn’t even have to try, does she? it’s like she was born to make us all look bad.”

there was a low chuckle from the group, but anton remained silent, his eyes still fixed on you. you allowed a small, knowing smile to curve your lips, a smile that only deepened the allure you held over them. you knew the effect you had, and you reveled in it. but this smile wasn’t just for them—it was a calculated move, a test to see how anton would react.

as you walked past, you let your gaze flicker towards anton for just a moment, long enough to meet his eyes and see the way they darkened, the intensity of his stare like a physical touch. it was a brief exchange, but it was enough to tell you what you needed to know. he wasn’t immune to you. far from it. he was just better at hiding it.

“careful, anton,” one of his friends teased, noticing the exchange. “she’s not the kind of girl you want to mess with.”

anton finally tore his gaze away from you, a faint smile ghosting across his lips as he replied, his voice low and measured, “i’m not messing with her.”

his friend raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “so what’s the plan, then? you just going to keep watching her from afar? because if you ask me, she’s out of everyone’s league here. untouchable.”

anton didn’t respond immediately, his eyes flickering back to where you had just disappeared around the corner. when he finally spoke, his voice was so quiet that his friends had to lean in to catch the words.

“some things are worth waiting for,” he said, his tone laced with a quiet conviction that sent a ripple of unease through the group.

“yeah, well, just be careful you don’t get burned,” the tall boy replied, though there was no real concern in his voice, only the easy camaraderie of someone who didn’t quite understand the depths of his friend’s obsession.

anton offered no reply, his thoughts already drifting back to you. his friends resumed their conversation, but he remained silent, his mind occupied with the image of your smile, the way it had seemed to linger on your lips just a moment too long, as if it had been meant for him alone.

later that afternoon, as the sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the school grounds, you found yourself in the library. it was a vast room, lined with shelves that reached up to the ceiling, filled with books that spanned every subject imaginable. the scent of aged paper hung in the air, mingling with the faint scent of polished wood and the crispness of the autumn air that drifted in through the open windows.

you chose this place deliberately—your sanctuary, your throne room, where you could reign undisturbed. the library was usually deserted at this hour, a perfect place to think, to plot your next move. you moved gracefully through the aisles, your fingers trailing lightly over the spines of the books as you walked, until you reached your usual spot, a secluded table tucked away in a corner, hidden from view but with a clear line of sight to the entrance.

you settled into your seat, your back straight, your posture impeccable, as you opened a book—a volume on ancient strategies of war, a fitting choice given the games you played with those around you. but as you began to read, your thoughts kept drifting back to anton, to the way he had looked at you in the courtyard. there was something about him that you couldn’t quite place, something that made him stand out from the others. he was different, and that intrigued you.

you heard the door to the library creak open, the sound barely perceptible, but you were attuned to the slightest disturbance in your surroundings. you didn’t look up, though you knew who it was even before you heard the familiar sound of his footsteps approaching. you continued reading, allowing him to come to you, your expression calm and unreadable.

“strange seeing you here twice in one day,” anton’s voice broke the silence, soft yet edged with something dark, something that hinted at the depths beneath his calm exterior.

you slowly raised your eyes from the book, fixing him with a cool, appraising gaze. “is it?”

he stood at the edge of your table, his posture relaxed but his eyes focused, as if he were trying to decipher the meaning behind your calm demeanor. he didn’t sit down, didn’t make any move to bridge the gap between you, and you respected that. it showed that he wasn’t like the others who would have rushed to fill the silence, eager to be close to you, to bask in your presence.

“you usually avoid places like this,” he said, his voice low, almost a murmur, as though the library’s quiet demanded a softer tone.

you tilted your head slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. “and yet, here you are.”

anton didn’t respond immediately. his eyes flickered to the book in your hands, his expression thoughtful. “war strategies?” he observed, raising an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “fitting.”

“for what?” you asked, your voice smooth, almost teasing, though there was a hint of steel beneath your words.

“for someone like you,” he replied, his tone flat, betraying nothing of what he might be thinking. “someone who always seems to be a step ahead.”

you allowed a soft laugh to escape your lips, though it was devoid of any real warmth. “i find it useful to stay informed,” you said, closing the book with a decisive snap. “knowledge is power, after all.”

anton’s lips curled into a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “and you enjoy having power, don’t you?”

you met his gaze, unflinching, your expression unreadable. “wouldn’t you?”

he didn’t answer, but the look in his eyes was enough. he understood, perhaps more than anyone else. in that moment, you saw a reflection of yourself in him—a hunger, a need to control, to dominate. it was rare to find someone who could match you in this way, and it made you wonder just how far you could push him before he would break.

“why are you here, anton?” you asked, your tone light but with an underlying sharpness. “surely you didn’t come all this way just to exchange pleasantries?”

anton took a step closer, leaning slightly over the table, his eyes locked onto yours. “i came to see you.”

“did you?” you replied, feigning surprise, though you were anything but. “and what is it that you want from me?”

he took another step closer, his gaze intense, as if he were trying to penetrate your carefully constructed facade. “you already know the answer to that.”

you leaned back in your chair, creating more distance between you, as if to remind him who was in control. “perhaps,” you said slowly, your voice laced with an almost cruel amusement. “but i want to hear you say it.”

anton’s jaw tightened, the only outward sign of his frustration. he wasn’t used to being played with, and it was clear that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the power dynamic between you. but he held his ground, refusing to be the first to break.

“i want to understand you,” he said finally, the words heavy with meaning.

you raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued now. “understand me?” you echoed, your tone mocking. “how quaint. and why would you want that?”

his eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were trying to see through your facade, to find the real person beneath the mask. “because you’re different from the others,” he said, his voice firm. “you don’t care about the things they care about. you’re not like them.”

you felt a flicker of satisfaction at his words, though you kept your expression neutral. “you think you’re different too, don’t you?” you asked, your voice soft, almost a whisper. “that’s why you’re drawn to me. you see something of yourself in me.”

anton didn’t deny it. instead, he straightened, putting more distance between you. “maybe,” he admitted, though there was a hint of reluctance in his voice, as if he didn’t want to admit just how much you fascinated him.

you leaned forward, your eyes glinting with something dark, something that spoke of the game you were playing. “but here’s the thing, anton,” you said, your voice low and almost seductive. “just because we’re alike doesn’t mean we’re on the same side.”

anton’s eyes darkened, a flicker of something dangerous passing through them. “are you trying to warn me?”

you smiled then, a smile that held no warmth, no kindness. “no,” you said simply. “i’m just letting you know that you should be careful. you might think you understand me, but you don’t. and trying to get close to me, trying to figure me out, might not end the way you hope.”

there was a moment of silence, the tension between you so thick it was almost suffocating. anton’s expression remained unreadable, but you could see the wheels turning in his mind, could almost hear the thoughts racing through his head as he tried to decide his next move.

finally, he nodded, as if coming to some kind of internal decision. “i’ll take my chances,” he said, his voice calm, but with a resolve that made it clear he wasn’t backing down.

you studied him for a long moment, weighing his words, considering your next move. and then, you smiled again, this time a real smile, one that hinted at something more, something dangerous. “good,” you said softly, leaning back in your chair. “i was hoping you would say that.”

anton didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. he wasn’t afraid of you, and that made him even more interesting. this was going to be fun.

without another word, you stood up, the movement smooth and controlled. you gathered your things, the book you hadn’t read and the bag you carried with you everywhere. you leaned slightly over the table, bringing your face closer to his, your lips curling into a slow, deliberate smile.

"good luck, anton," you whispered, your voice low and intimate. "you’re going to need it."

and with that, you turned and walked away, leaving him sitting there, the echo of your parting words lingering in the air. as you left the library, you didn’t look back. you knew he was watching you, just as you knew he would continue to chase the idea of you, to try and uncover the truth you kept hidden behind layers of ice.

but in the end, it didn’t matter. you were always in control. anton might think he was playing the same game as you, but the truth was, he was just another piece on your board. and you? you were always several moves ahead.

the sun had set by the time you stepped outside, the evening air cool against your skin. the sky was a deep, inky blue, dotted with the first stars of the night. as you walked back to your dorm, your thoughts were already shifting to the next day, the next opportunity, the next move. anton was a distraction, an interesting one, but a distraction nonetheless. you had bigger plans, bigger goals, and you wouldn’t let anything—or anyone—stand in your way.

as the door to your dormitory closed behind you, you allowed yourself one last, fleeting thought of anton, of the way his eyes had burned with that cold fire, the way he had tried to match your coldness with his own. it was a futile effort, but it had been amusing, if only for a moment.

and then, with the finality of a chess player making the winning move, you pushed the thought from your mind, focusing instead on the game that truly mattered—the one where you were always the queen, and everyone else was just another pawn.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

the days began to blur into one another, the once vibrant tapestry of autumn fading into the cold, muted tones of winter. seonghwa academy, with all its grandeur and decadence, seemed almost timeless in its beauty, untouched by the passage of the seasons. the cherry blossoms had long since fallen, leaving the trees bare, their skeletal branches scratching at the sky like bony fingers. the manicured gardens were now coated in a thin layer of frost, a glittering veil that shimmered in the pale morning light.

you moved through the academy like a specter, your presence felt more than seen. the halls were your domain, each corridor a labyrinth where you pulled the strings, where every whisper, every glance was carefully orchestrated. the students, your pawns, fell in line, their lives intertwined with yours in ways they could never fully understand. you held court in the shadows, your influence seeping into every corner, every conversation.

anton was no exception. from the moment he had sought you out in the library, you had known he would be different, a challenge unlike the others. and challenges, you had learned, were meant to be conquered.

he was drawn to you like a moth to a flame, his obsession growing with each passing day. it was subtle at first—an extra glance in your direction, a lingering look that held just a bit too long. but soon, it became something more, something palpable. you could feel his eyes on you even when you weren’t looking, could sense his presence lurking at the edge of your awareness like a shadow that refused to be shaken.

you began to toy with him, your moves calculated and deliberate, each interaction becoming a carefully orchestrated dance. the academy, a place of prestige and ambition, provided the perfect backdrop for your machinations. its grand halls and meticulously maintained gardens were a testament to the wealth and power of its patrons, and you knew how to navigate this world with ease.

your interactions with anton began innocently enough. it started with small things—catching his eye in the hallway and holding his gaze just a moment longer than necessary, brushing past him in the crowded corridors, your touch fleeting but deliberate. you could see the effect it had on him, the way his breath hitched, the way his composure faltered ever so slightly. it was intoxicating, the power you held over him, the way you could bend him to your will with nothing more than a look.

one evening, as the first snow of the season began to fall, you found yourself in the school’s music room, a place rarely visited by anyone outside of classes. the room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the soft glow of the sconces on the walls, casting long shadows that danced across the polished wood floors. the air was filled with the faint scent of old sheet music and the lingering notes of a piano that hadn’t been played in years.

you had come here to think, to plot your next move, but the silence was soon broken by the sound of the door creaking open. you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. you could feel anton’s presence, the way the air seemed to thicken with his arrival.

“you shouldn’t be here,” you said, your voice a soft whisper that barely disturbed the quiet.

“neither should you,” he replied, his tone calm but with an undercurrent of something darker, something that hinted at the storm brewing beneath his surface.

you turned slowly to face him, your eyes meeting his with a cool, detached gaze. “i go where i please,” you said simply, as if that explained everything.

anton stepped further into the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click. he was dressed in the school’s uniform, but it seemed somehow more disheveled, the tie loosened, the shirt untucked at the edges, as if he had grown careless with his appearance. his hair was tousled, the dark strands falling into his eyes, but it did nothing to diminish the intensity of his gaze.

“why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice steady but with a hint of desperation, as if he were struggling to keep his emotions in check.

you tilted your head slightly, feigning ignorance. “doing what?”

anton’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as he took a step closer. “you know what,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “why are you playing with me?”

a smile ghosted across your lips, a smile devoid of any warmth, any humanity. “because i can,” you replied, your tone light, almost mocking. “because it amuses me.”

anton’s eyes darkened, the shadows in the room seeming to grow longer, deeper. “you think this is a game?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly with barely restrained anger.

“everything is a game,” you said, your voice as cold and unfeeling as the snow falling outside. “and you’re just another piece on the board.”

he stared at you, his expression a mixture of anger and something else, something you couldn’t quite place. there was a darkness in him, a darkness that mirrored your own, and for a moment, you almost felt something—a flicker of recognition, of understanding. but you quickly pushed it aside, reminding yourself of who you were, of what you were.

“i don’t want to be your pawn,” anton said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“then don’t be,” you replied, your tone dismissive. “no one’s forcing you to play.”

but you both knew that wasn’t true. he was trapped, ensnared in a web of his own making, and there was no escape. not now. not ever.

anton took another step closer, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that was almost suffocating. “what do you want from me?” he asked, his voice hoarse, as if the words had been dragged from the depths of his soul.

you looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, you felt something stir within you, something you couldn’t quite identify. but then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the cold, calculating detachment that had always served you so well.

“i want to see how far you’ll go,” you said, your voice soft, almost seductive. “how much you’re willing to sacrifice for me.”

anton’s eyes narrowed, suspicion and anger flaring in equal measure. “and what if i’m not willing to give you what you want?” he asked, his voice challenging, daring you to push him further.

you smiled then, a smile that was all sharp edges and hidden dangers. “oh, anton,” you said, your tone dripping with condescension. “you will. you won’t be able to help yourself.”

there was a moment of silence, the tension between you so thick it was almost suffocating. and then, without warning, anton reached out, his hand gripping your wrist with a force that sent a shock of pain up your arm. his touch was cold, his fingers like iron bands that held you in place, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of fear, a fear that you hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“don’t underestimate me,” anton said, his voice low, dangerous. “i’m not like the others. i won’t break for you.”

you met his gaze, your eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, you saw the truth in his words. anton wasn’t like the others. he was stronger, more resilient, and that made him dangerous. but it also made the game more interesting, more challenging. and you had never been one to back down from a challenge.

“we’ll see,” you said, your voice steady, unyielding.

anton held your gaze for a moment longer, his grip on your wrist tightening before he finally let go. you watched him as he stepped back, his expression unreadable, the storm in his eyes raging just beneath the surface.

“this isn’t over,” he said, his voice low, filled with a quiet intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“no,” you replied, your tone calm, composed. “it’s just beginning.”

with that, anton turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room, the silence pressing down on you like a weight. you watched him go, a small smile playing on your lips, your mind already working, already planning your next move.

the game was far from over, and you had no intention of losing. anton was a challenge, a puzzle that you were determined to solve, no matter what it took. and if you had to break him in the process, then so be it.

after all, in the end, there could only be one winner.

as the days passed, you continued to play your game, each move calculated, each interaction designed to push anton further, to test the limits of his obsession. you gave him tasks, small at first—bring you a book from the library, fetch you a drink from the cafeteria—but each one was a test, a way to gauge just how far he was willing to go for you.

and he did them all, without question, without hesitation. it was almost too easy, the way he bent to your will, the way he followed your every command. but there was something about the way he did it, the way he looked at you with those dark, intense eyes, that told you he wasn’t doing it out of fear, or even out of a desire to please you. no, there was something else driving him, something deeper, something darker.

you began to push him harder, your requests growing more demanding, more invasive. you asked him to skip classes for you, to lie to his friends, to steal things from the other students. and still, he did it all, without a word of protest, without a single sign of reluctance.

it was thrilling, the power you held over him, the way you could make him do anything with nothing more than a smile, a glance, a whispered word. but there was also a danger in it, a danger that you were acutely aware of, but chose to ignore. because the truth was, you weren’t sure how far anton would go, and that uncertainty, that unpredictability, was what made the game so intoxicating.

one night, as the winter winds howled outside, you found yourself alone in your room, the fire in the hearth casting flickering shadows on the walls. you were seated at your desk, a glass of wine in hand, when there was a knock at the door. you knew who it was before you even opened it.

anton stood in the doorway, his expression as unreadable as ever, but there was something different about him, something you couldn’t quite place. his clothes were disheveled, his hair even more tousled than usual, and there was a wildness in his eyes that sent a thrill of fear, and excitement, coursing through you.

“come in,” you said, your voice steady, betraying none of the emotions swirling within you.

he stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other, the tension in the room thick and suffocating.

“what do you want?” you asked, your tone cool, detached.

anton didn’t answer immediately. instead, he took a step closer, his eyes locked onto yours, his expression intense, almost desperate.

“i want you,” he said finally, his voice low, hoarse.

you felt your heart skip a beat, the admission catching you off guard. but you quickly recovered, your composure slipping back into place like a well-worn mask.

“you can’t have me,” you replied, your tone cold, unfeeling.

“i know,” anton said, his voice barely above a whisper. “but that doesn’t change anything.”

there was a moment of silence, the two of you standing so close that you could feel the heat radiating from his body, could see the rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to control his breathing.

“why?” you asked, your voice soft, almost curious.

anton’s eyes darkened, the storm in them raging just beneath the surface. “because you make me feel alive,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “because i can’t stop thinking about you, even when i know i should.”

you stared at him, your mind racing, trying to make sense of the conflicting emotions swirling within you. you had always known that anton was different, that he would be a challenge, but you hadn’t anticipated this, hadn’t expected to be confronted with his raw, unfiltered need for you.

“you’re a fool,” you said finally, your voice sharp, cutting.

anton flinched at your words, but he didn’t back down. instead, he took another step closer, closing the distance between you until there was barely a breath of space between you.

“maybe,” he said, his voice steady, determined. “but i’m your fool.”

you felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, the sheer intensity of his devotion both exhilarating and terrifying. you had played this game a thousand times before, had manipulated countless others, but this—this was different. anton was different.

“you’re playing a dangerous game,” you said, your voice low, warning.

anton’s lips curved into a small, bitter smile. “i know,” he said, his voice soft, resigned. “but i’m already too far gone to stop.”

and in that moment, you knew it was true. anton wasn’t like the others. he wasn’t just another pawn on your board, another plaything to be discarded when you grew bored. he was something else, something more. and that realization sent a thrill of fear, and excitement, coursing through you.

he hesitated, his jaw tightening as if he was struggling to find the right words. “i can’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted finally, his voice raw with emotion. “you’re all i think about.”

you reached out, placing a hand on his cheek, your touch gentle but possessive. “and what do you think about, anton?”

his breath hitched at your touch, his eyes closing briefly as if savoring the moment. “everything. your smile, your voice, the way you move. it’s driving me crazy.”

you leaned in closer, your lips just inches from his. “is that so?” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin.

he nodded, his eyes opening to meet yours. “yes. i can’t sleep, i can’t focus. all i want is to be near you, to make you happy.”

“then we’ll see how far you’re willing to go,” you said, your voice filled with a dangerous promise.

anton’s eyes locked onto yours, his gaze unwavering, and in that moment, you knew that whatever happened next, there was no going back.

the game was no longer just a game. it was something more, something darker, something that could destroy you both. and for the first time in a long time, you felt truly alive.

as the snow continued to fall outside, the two of you stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills, the fire in the hearth casting long shadows on the walls, the only sound the crackling of the flames and the faint whisper of the wind.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

in the weeks that followed, your manipulation of anton became a carefully orchestrated dance, a twisted ballet where you led with a graceful, calculated precision, and anton followed, oblivious to the strings you pulled. each interaction was a deliberate step in this dark routine, with you guiding him ever deeper into the labyrinth of your control.

your tasks soon grew more intricate, more demanding. you asked him to dig up obscure references for your essays, to track down rare books that could only be found in forgotten corners of the city, to bring you your favorite coffee from a shop miles away from campus. each request was a thread in the web you wove around him, tightening your hold with every act of service.

anton never hesitated. his devotion to you was absolute, a blind, consuming need that drove him to fulfill your every whim without question. it was as if your presence had become a drug, one he couldn’t live without, and the more he did for you, the deeper his addiction grew. you could see it in his eyes, in the way he looked at you, as if you were the center of his universe, the very air he breathed.

as the days passed, you began to notice the subtle changes in him, changes that you observed with a detached amusement. anton’s once healthy frame grew gaunt, his cheeks hollowing out as he lost weight, the sharp angles of his bones more pronounced beneath his pale skin. dark circles formed under his eyes, a testament to the nights spent sleepless, his mind too consumed by thoughts of you to find rest.

his friends grew concerned, their worried glances and whispered questions following him wherever he went. “are you okay, anton?” they would ask, but he brushed them off with a forced smile, his thoughts always returning to you.

the sharp mind that had once been the pride of his teachers, the envy of his peers, now seemed solely focused on you, on the endless tasks and challenges you set before him. his world had shrunk, until it revolved around you alone.

one crisp afternoon, as the late sun cast a warm, golden hue over the campus, you decided it was time to push anton further. the chill in the air was sharp, a reminder of the winter, but inside the academy’s library, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of old books and the quiet hum of whispered conversations.

you found anton where you expected him, hunched over a thick volume of korean history, his eyes scanning the pages with a fervor that betrayed his exhaustion.

as you approached, he looked up, his gaze lighting up with that familiar, fervent intensity that had become so familiar to you. it was a look that both thrilled and repelled you, a reflection of the power you wielded over him.

“anton,” you said, your voice soft and sweet, a siren’s call that masked the sharpness of your intentions. “i need your help with something.”

he stood immediately, closing the book with a soft thud and giving you his full, undivided attention. “anything,” he said, his voice thick with longing, his eyes searching yours for any sign of approval.

you smiled, a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “there’s a fundraiser next week, and i need a partner for the opening dance. will you be my partner?”

his eyes widened in shock and elation, the emotions playing across his features like a silent movie. “of course,” he said quickly, almost too quickly. “i’d be honored.”

“good,” you replied, your smile widening just a fraction, enough to make his heart race. “meet me in the ballroom tonight at eight. we need to practice.”

that evening, the academy’s ballroom was a cathedral of opulence and grandeur. chandeliers hung from the high ceiling like glittering constellations, their crystal drops refracting light into a thousand tiny rainbows that danced across the polished marble floor. the scent of fresh flowers filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of waxed wood, a testament to the academy’s commitment to luxury and tradition.

you arrived at eight sharp, your entrance a vision of calculated perfection. anton was already there, of course, nervously adjusting his tie as he waited for you. his breath caught as you stepped into the room, the soft rustle of your gown the only sound in the vast, echoing space.

you had chosen a gown of deep crimson, a shade that matched the dark currents of the game you played, the color of blood and desire. it flowed around you like liquid silk, the fabric clinging to your form before cascading to the floor in a pool of rich, dark red. your hair was swept up in an elegant chignon, a few loose tendrils framing your face, and a simple diamond necklace adorned your neck, glittering against your porcelain skin like a single drop of ice.

“you’re early,” you said, your tone light and teasing, as if you hadn’t planned every detail of this encounter down to the second.

“i didn’t want to keep you waiting,” anton replied, his voice filled with a mix of awe and devotion that made your smile widen.

you crossed the room with a deliberate grace, each step measured, each movement designed to captivate. “shall we begin?” you asked, extending your hand to him, your fingers pale against the deep crimson of your gown.

he took your hand, his grip firm yet trembling slightly, the subtle tremor sending a shiver of satisfaction through you. you led him into the dance, your bodies moving in perfect harmony, a testament to the control you exerted over him. anton followed your lead with an intensity that bordered on reverence, his eyes never leaving yours, his focus entirely on you, as if the world beyond your shared steps had ceased to exist.

as the music swelled, you leaned in closer, your breath brushing against his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “you’re doing well, anton,” you murmured, your voice a soft, seductive purr. “but you need to loosen up. let go of your fears.”

he nodded, his jaw clenching with determination, the tension in his body palpable beneath your touch. you could feel the rigid control he tried to maintain, the desperate need to please you, to be perfect for you. but you wanted more. you wanted to push him further, to see just how far he would go to prove his devotion.

“anton,” you said softly, your voice barely a whisper, a breath of wind in the stillness of the ballroom. “do you trust me?”

his eyes widened, and for a brief moment, you saw a flicker of uncertainty, a tiny crack in the facade of his devotion. but then he nodded, his expression resolute, his voice unwavering. “yes,” he said, the word carrying the weight of a promise, a vow.

“good,” you replied, your lips curving into a smile, a smile that was both a reward and a warning. “then close your eyes and follow my lead.”

he hesitated for the briefest of moments before obeying, his eyes fluttering shut, his trust in you absolute. with his eyes closed, anton’s other senses seemed to heighten, his body attuning to yours with an intensity that bordered on desperation. you could feel his breath quicken, the rapid rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand, his heartbeat pounding in his chest like the rhythm of the music, a rhythm that echoed the pulse of your own power over him.

you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear, your voice a soft caress, a velvet glove over a steel blade. “you’re mine, anton,” you whispered, the words wrapping around him like a chain. “you’ll do anything for me, won’t you?”

his breath hitched, a sharp intake of air that spoke of both fear and longing, and he nodded, his voice a ragged whisper, his will crumbling under the weight of your command. “yes.”

“good,” you murmured, a thrill of satisfaction coursing through you, a dark current that matched the crimson of your gown. “because i have another task for you.”

he opened his eyes then, his gaze locking onto yours with a desperation that was almost tangible, a need that radiated from him like heat. “anything,” he said, his voice filled with a desperate longing, a need to prove himself worthy of your attention.

you smiled, a slow, predatory smile, the smile of a hunter who knows the prey is already ensnared. “i need you to find out everything you can about professor kim. i have reason to believe he’s hiding something, and i need to know what it is.”

anton’s eyes darkened at your words, a flicker of something dangerous passing through them, a shadow of the man he was becoming under your influence. “i’ll find out,” he said, his voice firm, the resolve in his tone a reflection of the control you had over him.

you leaned back slightly, your smile widening, your satisfaction evident in the way your eyes glinted in the soft light of the chandeliers. “i knew i could count on you, anton,” you said, your voice a soft purr, a reward for his obedience.

as the music came to an end, you stepped back, breaking the connection between you, your movements fluid, graceful, a dancer stepping away from a completed performance. anton stood there, his chest heaving, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe and devotion, his mind consumed with thoughts of you.

“same time tomorrow?” you asked, your tone casual, as if you hadn’t just tightened the chains of his obsession, as if this were just another dance, another game.

he nodded, his gaze never leaving yours, his heart still racing from the intensity of the moment. “yes,” he replied, his voice steady, but you could hear the undercurrent of desperation, the need to please you, to be everything you wanted him to be.

you turned and walked away, your steps light and graceful, each movement a calculated display of control and power. behind you, anton remained standing in the middle of the ballroom, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind consumed with thoughts of you, with the task you had given him. 

the game was progressing perfectly, each move bringing you closer to your goal, and you reveled in the power you held over him, in the knowledge that anton was yours, body and soul, and that you had no intention of letting him go.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

the power dynamics between you and anton had shifted to an almost surreal degree. what began as a subtle manipulation had evolved into a full-blown psychological entanglement, a dangerous dance where you were the undisputed maestro, and anton, the eager but unwitting puppet. 

each interaction was a calculated move, each touch a deliberate action to tighten the threads of control around him. you reveled in the power you held, the way you could bend him to your will with nothing more than a smile or a whispered command.

the academy’s sprawling grounds, with its grandiose architecture and serene gardens, became the stage for your most intricate schemes. the cherry blossoms in the garden, once a symbol of delicate beauty, now seemed to echo the treacherous nature of your relationship with anton. their petals floated down like fragments of innocence lost, each one a testament to the corruption blossoming between you.

one afternoon, you sat on a stone bench beneath a weeping willow. its branches hung low, creating a curtain of green that shielded you from the prying eyes of others. anton approached with the usual mix of eagerness and trepidation, his eyes locked on you with an intensity that bordered on worshipful.

“anton,” you called softly, your voice a caress against the backdrop of the rustling leaves. “i need you to handle something for me.”

“of course,” he replied, his voice a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. he was so eager to please, so desperate for your approval, that it was almost painful to watch.

you leaned in slightly, letting the air between you become charged with unspoken expectations. “there’s a student, su-jin. she’s been trying to undermine me in class, and i need you to… persuade her to stop.”

anton’s face darkened at the mention of su-jin. you could see the conflict within him, but it was quickly overshadowed by his desire to comply with your wishes. “what should I do?”

you allowed a slow, satisfied smile to creep across your lips. “find out what she’s planning, and if necessary, convince her to leave me alone. use whatever means you deem necessary.”

his eyes widened with a mixture of shock and determination. “you can count on me.”

as anton walked away, you could see the way his shoulders stiffened with resolve. it was a dangerous game you were playing, but the thrill of exerting such power over him, of watching him bend to your will, was intoxicating. you knew that anton’s obsession with you would lead him down a darker path, but you were content to watch the descent with a detached fascination.

anton’s mental state began to deteriorate as his obsession grew. he became increasingly paranoid, his thoughts consumed by the idea that no one else deserved your attention. his once bright eyes took on a haunted look, and his usually calm demeanor was replaced by a nervous restlessness. he started to isolate himself from friends, pushing them away with brusque words and averted gazes. his world had narrowed to a singular focus— you.

one evening, as the sky turned a deep shade of indigo and the stars began to prick the velvet darkness, you were walking through the gardens again. anton followed a few paces behind, his gaze fixed on you like a shadow that never wavered. he had been quiet for days, his once vibrant conversations now reduced to terse, monosyllabic responses.

“anton,” you said, turning to face him as you paused near a fountain where the water gurgled softly, creating a soothing, rhythmic sound. “you’ve been so quiet lately. is everything alright?”

he looked up, his eyes flickering with a mixture of anxiety and something darker— a possessive intensity that you noted with a hint of amusement. “everything’s fine,” he said, though his voice trembled slightly. “i’ve just been… focused.”

you could feel the shift in his demeanor, a subtle but unmistakable tension in the air. “focused on what?”

he hesitated, his gaze drifting to the ground before meeting your eyes again. “on making sure that no one else gets in the way of what we have.”

you raised an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. “and what is it that we have, anton?”

he swallowed hard, his throat working as if the words were difficult to form. “i… i want to make sure you’re safe. that no one can harm you or distract you from… us.”

a shiver ran down your spine at the way he said “us,” the possessive undertone clear. you took a step closer, your eyes narrowing as you assessed his state of mind.

 “anton, you know i appreciate your loyalty. but remember, you’re here to support me, not to control the people around me.”

he nodded, but the look in his eyes betrayed a different reality. the shadow of his darker side was beginning to surface more frequently. it was in the way he would flinch if he saw you talking to another student, the way his hands would clench into fists when you mentioned someone else’s name.

like when you conversed with a fellow student, your laughter ringing out in the courtyard, you caught anton’s gaze from across the lawn. his face was a mask of barely restrained fury, his eyes dark and stormy. the sight sent a thrill of dark satisfaction through you. you knew that you were pushing him to the brink, but the control you had over him was intoxicating.

afterward, as you walked through the campus, you found anton waiting for you by a secluded alcove. his expression was a volatile mix of anger and desperation. 

“why were you talking to him?” he demanded, his voice low and harsh.

you stopped, turning to face him with a calm composure. “anton, it’s just a conversation. you have nothing to worry about.”

“nothing to worry about?” he spat, his eyes blazing. “i saw the way he looked at you. you were laughing with him, enjoying his attention. what about me?”

you took a deep breath, the thrill of his jealousy and anger washing over you like a wave. “anton, you need to calm down. you’re becoming irrational.”

“irrational?” he echoed, his voice trembling with a barely contained fury. “i’m trying to protect you! you don’t understand—”

“understand what?” you interrupted, stepping closer and placing a hand on his cheek. the touch was intended to soothe, but you could feel the tension beneath his skin. “anton, you’re losing control. you need to trust me.”

he flinched at your touch, a wave of conflicting emotions crashing over him. his eyes were wild, and for a moment, you could see the extent of his obsession, the way it had twisted into something darker. 

“i don’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “i can’t lose you.”

you drew back slightly, the thrill of his turmoil invigorating you. “anton, you’re not losing me. but you need to focus on what’s important.”

his eyes searched yours, desperation evident in every line of his face. “i’ll do anything,” he said, his voice cracking. “just tell me what to do.”

you smiled, a smile that was both reassuring and chilling. “just remember, anton, your loyalty is what matters most. don’t let your feelings get in the way.”

this only spurred anton’s behavior to become increasingly erratic. he would often have vivid fantasies about you, his mind concocting elaborate scenarios where you were entirely his and no one else could share in your attention. these fantasies grew darker and more obsessive, painting a picture of a world where you were trapped in his own twisted vision of devotion.

one night, as the moon cast a silver sheen across the academy grounds, anton sat alone in his dorm room, his thoughts racing. the walls seemed to close in around him, and the quiet of the night was punctuated only by the sound of his own uneven breathing. he had been unable to sleep, his mind a chaotic swirl of images and emotions.

he imagined you, alone and vulnerable, with him as your sole protector. in his fantasies, you were completely dependent on him, your every move dictated by his will. the images were vivid, almost tangible— you sitting by his side, your hand in his, your eyes locked with his as he whispered promises of eternal devotion. 

but these fantasies quickly twisted into darker visions, where he had to fight off other suitors with a ferocity that bordered on violence. in these dreams, he was ruthless, striking out with an intensity that mirrored the storm within him.

when he awoke, drenched in sweat, he could still feel the echoes of his dark fantasies, the haunting intensity of his own thoughts. he stared at the ceiling, his mind struggling to separate fantasy from reality. his heart pounded, the line between his desire and his actions becoming increasingly blurred.

the next day, when you encountered anton, his demeanor was a mask of calmness, but the turmoil beneath was palpable. he tried to hide his paranoia, but the tension in his posture and the shadow in his eyes spoke volumes. he watched you with a possessive gaze, his actions more calculated, his interactions with others strained.

“anton,” you said one afternoon as you found him standing near the fountain, his gaze following you intently. “is everything alright?”

he forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “everything’s fine,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “just… making sure everything is as it should be.”

you studied him, noting the way his eyes darted toward other students, the way his hands clenched into fists. you could feel the control you wielded over him, the way his obsession had morphed into something more dangerous. the thrill of manipulating him, of pushing him to the edge, was a dark pleasure you savored.

“anton,” you said, stepping closer and lowering your voice. “i need you to trust me. I don’t want to see you like this. It’s not healthy.”

his eyes met yours, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through his facade. “i just… want to protect you,” he said, his voice a mixture of anguish and resolve.

you reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “i know, and I appreciate it. but it’s creeping me out so i need you to stop, okay?”

he nodded, but the shadows in his eyes betrayed the internal struggle he faced. you knew that his descent into obsession was far from over, and as you watched him walk away, you could almost feel the weight of his darkness pressing down on him.

the games you played were dangerous and morally ambiguous, but they had become a twisted form of entertainment for you. you had pushed anton to the brink, watching with a mix of thrill and detachment as he spiraled into obsession. the power you held over him was intoxicating, and though you knew the consequences of your actions, the pleasure of manipulation was too alluring to resist.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

the days continued to grow colder, the winter tightening its grip on seonghwa academy, transforming the once-golden landscape into a monochrome world of gray skies and snow-blanketed grounds. the chill seeped into the very bones of the school, into the ancient stone walls and the hearts of those within them, as if the academy itself were a living, breathing entity, feeding off the darkness that now hung heavy in the air.

you had been watching anton closely, more closely than ever, though you would never let him know it. there was a darkness in him that intrigued you, a shadow that had grown deeper, more pronounced since that night in your room. it was as if something had awakened in him, something raw and primal, and you could feel its presence lurking just beneath the surface of his carefully composed facade.

it had been a twisted tapestry of obsession, each thread woven with a careful hand, yet fraying at the edges with the weight of something darker. anton’s once-gentle demeanor, that quiet reserve you had once found so easy to manipulate, had slowly unraveled, revealing a shadowy core of obsession and fixation. what began as harmless devotion had curdled into something far more dangerous, an all-consuming fervor that twisted his thoughts and actions until they no longer resembled the man you had first ensnared.

the signs had always been there, lurking beneath the surface like cracks in a fragile facade. at first, they were subtle—a lingering gaze that held too much intensity, an eagerness to please that bordered on desperation. his words, once soft and measured, began to carry an undercurrent of something sharper, a hint of possessiveness that set your instincts on edge. but these were easy to dismiss, easy to overlook in the grander scheme of your game.

yet, as the days turned into weeks, those cracks deepened, splitting wide to reveal the depths of his obsession. his once kind eyes now burned with a fervor that was both unsettling and relentless, like a predator stalking its prey. the change in him was gradual, a slow, insidious transformation that you hadn’t anticipated, until one day you realized that the man before you was no longer the same anton you had once so effortlessly controlled.

what had begun as a game of manipulation had now spiraled into something far more dangerous. you had been playing with fire, testing the limits of his devotion, pushing him further and further, and now, those flames were ready to consume everything in their path. the air around him seemed charged, like the tense silence before a storm, the kind that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. you could sense the shift in him, the way his presence felt heavier, more oppressive, as if the weight of his obsession had grown too large to contain.

but you didn’t question it. you didn’t need to. after all, whatever was driving anton, whatever darkness had taken root in his soul, it only served to deepen your control over him. and that was all that mattered.

it was a chilly evening, and the academy’s grand library, usually a sanctuary of quiet knowledge, felt different tonight. the air was thick with an unsettling tension. the shadows cast by the flickering lights danced ominously on the rows of ancient, leather-bound books. you had been here often, as much to avoid the prying eyes of others as to indulge in the hidden recesses of knowledge. tonight, however, your curiosity had led you down a path of discovery you hadn’t anticipated.

you were seated in a leather armchair near the back of the library, a book in hand, though your mind was far from the words on the page. instead, your thoughts were occupied by anton, by the strange, twisted game you had been playing with him, and by the gnawing curiosity that had begun to take hold of you.

it was then that you heard the door to the library creak open, the sound pulling you from your thoughts. you didn’t need to look up to know who it was. you could feel his presence, as you always could, a dark cloud that seemed to hang over him, shadowing his every step.

anton moved through the library with the same quiet grace that had always characterized him, but there was something different about him now, something that set your nerves on edge. you watched from the corner of your eye as he made his way toward the back of the library, his gaze fixed on something you couldn’t see.

as he drew closer, you noticed that his clothes were disheveled, more so than usual, his hair unkempt, the dark strands falling into his eyes in a way that only added to the air of disarray that clung to him. there was something in his eyes, too, something wild and untamed, a flicker of madness that sent a chill down your spine.

he stopped a few feet away from you, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that was almost suffocating. you met his stare, your expression carefully composed, though you could feel the unease building in the pit of your stomach.

“anton,” you said, your voice calm, measured. “what are you doing here?”

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he stood there, his chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths, as if he were trying to keep himself under control. when he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost a whisper, but there was an edge to it that made your skin prickle.

“i did something for you,” he said, his words clipped, precise.

you raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued despite the unease that was now thrumming through your veins. “oh?” you said, your tone light, almost teasing. “and what might that be?”

anton’s eyes darkened, the storm in them growing more intense, more dangerous. he took a step closer, his hand reaching into his coat pocket, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of fear, a fear that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

but then he pulled out a small, silver object, holding it out to you with a trembling hand. you looked at it, your heart skipping a beat as you realized what it was.

a locket. a delicate, ornate locket that you recognized immediately, because you had seen it around the neck of one of the students, a girl who had been the object of anton’s silent, simmering jealousy for weeks. she had been one of your pawns, someone you had used to stoke the fires of anton’s obsession, to push him further, to test the limits of his devotion to you.

and now, here it was, in his hand, the chain broken, the locket itself smeared with something dark, something that made your breath catch in your throat.

“anton,” you said slowly, carefully, as if speaking to a wild animal. “what did you do?”

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he looked down at the locket, his expression unreadable, before finally lifting his gaze to meet yours.

“i did it for you,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “she was in the way. she was trying to take you from me.”

your heart began to pound in your chest, a cold, creeping dread settling over you. “what did you do, anton?” you repeated, your voice sharper now, more insistent.

anton’s eyes flashed with something dark, something twisted, and he took another step closer, the locket still dangling from his fingers like a macabre trophy.

“i made sure she couldn’t take you from me,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “i made sure she would never come between us again.”

the realization hit you like a physical blow, the air leaving your lungs in a rush as the full extent of what anton had done sank in. the locket, the dark smears—blood, it was blood. he had killed her, that girl, that innocent pawn in your game, all because of his twisted, obsessive love for you.

you stared at him, your mind racing, trying to process the enormity of what had just happened. and yet, even as the horror of it all settled over you, you couldn’t help but feel a strange, twisted thrill of excitement, of power.

anton had killed for you. he had crossed a line, had stepped into the darkness, all in your name. and in that moment, you realized just how deeply you had ensnared him, how completely he had fallen under your spell.

but there was also a danger in it, a danger that you couldn’t ignore. anton was no longer just a pawn in your game. he was something else, something more dangerous, more unpredictable. and you knew that you would have to tread carefully if you were to maintain your control over him.

“anton,” you said, your voice low, soothing, as if you were trying to calm a wild animal. “you shouldn’t have done that.”

he blinked, his expression faltering for a moment, as if he were struggling to understand your words. “but i did it for you,” he repeated, his voice desperate, pleading. “i did it because i love you.”

you felt a cold, bitter laugh bubble up in your throat, but you forced it down, knowing that now was not the time for mockery. anton was on the edge, teetering on the brink of something dark and terrible, and you needed to pull him back, to regain control before it was too late.

“love?” you said, your voice soft, almost mocking. “you think this is love, anton? what you’ve done, what you’ve become—this isn’t love. it’s madness.”

his eyes widened, a flicker of pain flashing across his face, but it was quickly replaced by something darker, something more dangerous.

“no,” he said, his voice low, trembling with emotion. “no, you’re wrong. you don’t understand. everything i’ve done, i’ve done for you. because i can’t live without you. because i need you.”

you stared at him, your mind racing, trying to find the right words, the right approach to keep him from slipping further into the darkness. but even as you searched for a way to regain control, you could feel the situation spiraling out of your grasp, slipping through your fingers like sand.

“anton,” you said, your voice sharp, cutting through the thick tension in the air. “listen to me. you’ve gone too far. you’ve crossed a line, and there’s no going back. what you’ve done… it’s unforgivable.”

for a moment, he simply stared at you, his expression blank, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend what you were saying. but then, slowly, something shifted in his eyes, something dark and twisted, something that made your blood run cold.

“unforgivable?” he echoed, his voice low, almost a whisper. “but i did it for you. i did it because i love you. how can that be unforgivable?”

you shook your head, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to maintain your composure. “love isn’t supposed to be like this, anton. it’s not supposed to be… destructive.”

his expression twisted into something ugly, something full of pain and anger. “you’re wrong,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “you’re wrong. love is everything. it’s all that matters. and i would do anything—anything—to keep you. to make you mine.”

there was a desperation in his voice, a wildness that sent a shiver down your spine. you had pushed him too far, had played your game too well, and now you were faced with the consequences of your own actions.

but even as the fear gripped you, there was a part of you, a dark, twisted part, that couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement, a perverse satisfaction in knowing just how deeply you had ensnared him, how completely you had broken him.

“anton,” you said, your voice low, almost a whisper. “this has to stop. you have to let me go.”

his eyes flashed with something dark, something dangerous, and he took a step closer, his hand reaching out to grasp your arm with a grip that was almost painful.

“no,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “i can’t. i won’t. you’re mine. you belong to me.”

you felt a cold, creeping dread settle over you, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. anton wasn’t going to let you go. he was too far gone, too consumed by his obsession to see reason. and there was no telling what he might do, what lengths he might go to, to keep you.

“anton,” you said, your voice shaking slightly despite your best efforts to remain calm. “you need to let me go. this isn’t healthy. it’s not right.”

his grip on your arm tightened, his eyes blazing with a wild, desperate intensity. “i don’t care,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “i don’t care if it’s not right. i don’t care if it’s not healthy. i need you. and i won’t let you go. not ever.”

the words hung in the air like a dark, ominous cloud, the finality of them sending a shiver down your spine. you had always known that anton was different, that he was dangerous, but now, faced with the full extent of his madness, you realized just how precarious your situation had become.

you were trapped, ensnared in the very web you had so carefully woven, and there was no way out. anton’s obsession had consumed him, had driven him to the edge of sanity, and now, there was no telling what he might do, what lengths he might go to, to keep you.

“anton,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “please. let me go.”

but he only shook his head, his grip on your arm tightening, his eyes wild and desperate. “no,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “i can’t. i won’t. you’re mine. and i’ll do whatever it takes to keep you. whatever it takes.”

the words sent a chill down your spine, the cold, creeping dread settling over you like a heavy blanket. anton had crossed a line, had stepped into the darkness, and there was no going back. the game was over, and you had lost.

and in that moment, you realized just how dangerous obsession could be, just how easily it could consume and destroy. anton had been your pawn, your plaything, but now, he was something else, something darker, something that could destroy you both.

and there was no escape.

“anton,” you said, your voice trembling, your heart pounding in your chest. “this isn’t love. it’s madness.”

but he only smiled, a twisted, broken smile that sent a shiver down your spine, his grip on your arm like a vice, unrelenting and unforgiving.

“maybe,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. “but it’s our madness.”

and in that moment, you knew that there was no going back, no escape from the darkness that had consumed you both. anton had become something else, something more dangerous, more terrifying, and there was no telling what he might do, what lengths he might go to, to keep you.

the snow continued to fall outside, the world outside the library quiet and still, as if holding its breath, waiting for the storm to break. and in the silence, you could hear the faint whisper of the wind, the crackling of the fire, and the pounding of your own heart, as you stood there, trapped in the darkness, with no way out.

and as the night closed in around you, you knew that this was only the beginning, the first step into a world of darkness and madness from which there would be no return. anton’s obsession had consumed him, and now, it would consume you both, dragging you down into the depths of despair, with no hope of escape.

and as you looked into anton’s eyes, those wild, desperate eyes that had once been so full of life, so full of promise, you knew that you had lost, that you had played your game too well, and now, you were paying the price.

the darkness had won.

[mythosidhesdollhouse]

We got some Rainbow High Sparkle & Shine stock photos of Viola & Rosetta! I'm sorry. I know it's an unpopular opinion, but I genuinely love these dolls, and will be buying them at the first available opportunity. Yes I know the purple one is basically just Violet. To this I can only say--I own three Violets. I will likely own more Violets in the future. One of them will have glitter legs. Have you not yet figured out that purple is my favorite color? Give me all the purple dolls.

And if you don't like Rosetta my only question to you is: Why do you hate fun? Look at her. She's adorable. She's pink. She's pastel rainbow. She has a cute phone case. Weren't people complaining about the lack of phones with the new RH dolls?

Not saying anyone else has to love this wave--by all means DON'T buy them so my poor, disabled, fixed income self can get them on sale sooner--I just wish other Rainbow High collectors would stop being such snobs about them :/ But I understand folks are mourning the loss of what RH used to be. I miss it too. I only had a few months to enjoy it before the change happened! But perhaps that's why I'm not so attached to their previous incarnation, and can continue to find joy in what they've become.

ANYWAY--from my previous post about Clementine I already know these girls are not popular, but I can't help but hope people will lighten up a little bit and give them a chance.

[bitbybitwrites]

And yet, will be more than six sentences 😂. But saw this banner and wanted to use it at least once for this month!

OK . . I haven't done one of these in FOREVER. . so my deepest apologies and many thanks for all you lovely folks who keep tagging me for this and WIP Wednesdays: @thinkof-england, @softboynick, @taste-thewaste, @onthewaytosomewhere, @tinyarmedtrex

@wordsofhoneydew , @sophie1973 , @thesleepyskipper , @forabeatofadrum, @getmehighonmagic

@daisyishedwig , @annepi-blog, @porcelainmortal , @blueeyedgrlwrites ( and I hope I remembered everyone!)

1.) I've been struggling with finishing the latest chapter of my RWRB fic, Puppy Love. It's going through the editing process and should be up soon. You'll find a bit below.

2.) I also got sent a Pride themed Glee/Klaine ask for Ficlet Friday - which is now turning out a wee bit longer than a ficlet. And there will be a snippet of it below as well.

See it all under the cut!

1.) From Puppy Love - Chp 4. (RWRB fic)

With a smirk, Alex pulled Henry down to him, internally grateful to feel the other man straddle his legs as he sat in Alex's lap. While he ran his hands up and down Henry’s thighs, Alex found his brain slightly short circuiting as he imagined himself between them with less layers on than they had now. “Fuck,” Alex gasped as he continued stroking them. “Work out much?” he teased as he gripped Henry’s legs tighter. Henry grinned as he used his teeth to graze the edge of Alex’s jaw. “Horseback riding, actually. Used to do a lot of it back home. Even polo now and then.” “Didn’t peg you for a trust fund baby,” Alex poked fun once more. He shuddered as Henry found a particularly sensitive area on his neck and bit down. “Shut up, you cretin,” Henry growled before he took possession of Alex’s mouth again.

2.) From fire island follies (a klaine/glee themed ficlet friday prompt)

“Porcelain, Starchild, White Chocolate . . who are they?” he wondered aloud. “Well, me for one.” Blaine swiveled around on his stool to find a ridiculously good looking guy in the tiniest gold booty shorts that he had ever seen staring at him from behind the bar. “I . .I’m sorry . . what?” The bartender tossed a rainbow colored bar towel over his shoulder and plunked down a glass of water in front of Blaine.  “White Chocolate.  That’s me, I’m saying.” “That’s . . a, uh. .  . .a nice name . .” The blond grinned, the body glitter shining very noticeably off his abs.   Blaine seriously tried not to stare.  He did. “Stage name.  Used to have a partner called Dark Chocolate I worked with, but he went off and got him a boyfriend who didn’t like him writhing on stage with little ole me. Jake came up with the names.  He said we were both smooth and sweet and it kind of worked cause he was, well, you know, African American and I’m . . .” he gestured again toward his glitter encrusted abs. Blaine swallowed and really didn’t stare.  Really.  He really, really didn’t.

Besides the lovely folks listed above, I'm also tagging: @gleefulpoppet, @14carrotghoul, @myheartalivewrites, @itsmaybitheway, @hkvoyage,

@little-escapist, @madas-ahatters-world, @kirakiwiwrites, @spaceorphan18, @special-bc-ur-part-of-it ,

@kurtsascot , @cryscendo, @rockitmans, @lady-divine-writes, @lilinas

and open tag for anyone who wants to jump in!

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Valentine's Card

"Honestly," Draco huffed as he set what had to be the 45th card he'd picked up back on the shelf. "This is ridiculous," he grumbled as he reached for the next.

"Can I help you with anything, sir?" a boy who couldn't be more than 17 asked him.

He looked him up and down before gesturing to the selection of Valentine's Day cards, "these are appalling."

"Not a fan of Valentine's Day?" he asked, voice annoyingly sympathetic as if a child could understand the pressure of choosing a Valentine's card for your childhood nemesis, turned work-rival, turned acquaintance, turned best friend, turned (recently) lover.

Although, as it happened, he wasn't particularly fond of Valentine's Day. "Not especially," he conceded. "But these are all so-" he broke off, searching for the right word, "trite. Cute. They make everything seem like relationships are just rainbows and butterflies, and they aren't."

"Err," the teen said, scratching his neck. "Well, I think lots of folks just want to pretend for a day that things aren't awful."

"My relationship isn't awful!" he protested, because he certainly didn't want the teen to go away thinking that. "My relationship is wonderful. He's stubborn, and pig-headed, and too noble for his own good. He drives me mental some days with his inability to think about his own needs. But he's the bloody love of my life and I wouldn't want him any other way."

"Right," the teen replied uncertainly, glancing around for someone to help him. "I don't think I'm supposed to say this, seeing as selling cards is what we do," he said, "but I don't think you're going to find anything like that here."

And Draco couldn't help it, the frustration of trying to find the perfect card melted away and he set down the card in his hand. "You're right," he replied. "Time to try my hand at making something again."

When he got home, he sat down at his writing desk and started to work; he didn't have much time before Harry turned up for their dinner date.

He was putting the finishing touches on the card when he heard Harry tumble out of the floo. Draco blew off the last bit of glitter as Harry came in, bouquet of roses in his hands. "For you," he said, holding them out and leaning in for a kiss.

"For you," Draco replied, offering him the card. "The boy at the shop told me that they didn't have anything that would say what I was trying to say, so I made it myself."

"Babe," he said, grinning at him with the soppiest expression before opening it and reading it aloud,

"Dear Harry, your stubbornness is bested by only your love, your strength by only your kindness. You make me feel like a mess, still I must confess, I'm rather obsessed, with the man who so loves my weakness."

Draco felt himself flushing bright red, uncertain of how the other man would respond. Really, if he'd had more time to think about it, Draco was sure that he wouldn't have even given it to him. "This was stupid-" he started.

Even as Harry looked up at him, eyes shining, "You wrote this for me?" he asked, clutching it to his chest and covering himself in glitter.

"Yes?"

"I love it," he breathed, leaning in to kiss Draco, "This is the sweetest-" he cut himself off to kiss him again. "I love you," he said against his mouth. "All of you," he added, looking pointedly at the last line of the card.

Draco laughed, "I know. But it means the most to me that you love me when I feel like I can't be enough."

Harry kissed him again, and then again, "You're always enough."

"Dinner?" he asked, feeling overly pleased with himself.

Harry shook his head and backed him toward the bedroom, "Dinner can wait."

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

Written for the @hdcandyheartsfest prompt 'Valentine's Card'

Read more of my 2023 hdcandyhearts ficlets here.

[beyondtheseaofstars]

give me ALL of your atom headcannons.

yeah, you heard me right. ALL OF THEM

Haha...pulls out an entire google docs

Now, these are the only ones I'll be sharing because yk so enjoy:

Brystal Evergreen

– She's bisexual :))

– Her wand reminds her a lot of Madame Weatherberry. (Don't tell me Brystal didn't see her as a mother figure.)

– Bubbles are very connected to her childhood, it's like an important symbol to her.

– She’s a sentimental person. The small little gifts her friends make for her are kept in a special area and she makes sure they're kept safe.

(A couple of these headcannons are from other folks but yk.)

Lucy Goose

– She definitely likes theatre and musicals. She's memorized the entire lyrics to all of her favorite musicals.

– She just yells extremely random words (or just screams) whenever she feels like it (which is a lot) because it's funny to her.

– She’s a heavy sleeper. If by any chance her friends were unfortunate enough to sleep next to her, they’d either fall off the bed or get their blanket yanked away from them.

– She’s also the type of person to fall off her bed (or hammock) and still be asleep, maybe even the person who sleeps through earthquakes and stuff.

–Occasionally, she bonks people in the head with a tuba to "knock some sense into them". Her friends may be against it, but according to her, it works.

Emerelda Stone

– She’s nearsighted and actually has a pair of emerald framed glasses with her, though most of the time she wears contacts instead.

(just one for Emerelda? yep, sorry-)

Xanthous Hayfield (can't find yellow 😭)

– Whenever he's lost in thought, he'll pace around.

– He has a pet cat! Lucy is the one who gave it to him.

– He likes flowers too! He often gives little flower crowns and metal dolls as gifts to his friends because he’s wholesome, except they aren’t that well-made at all. They’d have to put an enchantment on it to keep it from breaking. (They still appreciate the gesture though.)

– He really likes small critters like squirrels, frogs, lizards, bunnies, and mice.

Tangerina Turkin

– If angered (and she can get angered very easily), she will do absolutely anything to show her anger to them. She’s a very petty person.

– She's that person who's like "oh, you made that? 😒" then proceed to treasure it forever.

Skylene Lavenders

– Her favorite animal is a duck. I’m not going to explain. It’s just duck.

– The floor/pool in her room is decorated to look like a really nice aquarium. She has plenty of small fishes who live there that she keeps as pets. They all have names and stories too.

– She has a “little” pet shark that also lives in her room and it’s surprisingly very friendly. She just hangs out with him whenever she’s bored.

– She’s a crafty person, not the most skilled, but it’s something. She likes messing around with glue, colors, sticks, strings, and glitter, making a DIY craft for each of her friends and fishes.

– She has a large stuffed animal collection that she and Xanthous are building together.

– She usually goes and excitedly talks or rants about something to (mainly) Tangerina even though she knows or has heard about it already.

Elrik Elderwood

– He likes to carry Xanthous for fun sometimes, akin to how he did when they first met. He goes into the room and just picks him up because he can.

– He does some trolling with Lucy from time to time, mainly to the demons and the Fairy Council.

General

– They made little rainbow friendship bracelets for all of them to wear. Even during and after the events of The Land of Stories series, they still have those bracelets and wear them all the time.

– They all have a book-reading sleepover in Brystal’s room every weekend.

– The Fairy Council have a special little place in the woods somewhere near the academy where they unwind and de-stress whenever they're overwhelmed. (They still do this in TLOS.)

[blessedarethequeer]

alongside communion this morning, for Pride/Rainbow Sunday we offered a glitter blessing and oh Lord it was such a beautiful and messy and joyous and healing experience to just. like. rejoice in and affirm the divine gift that queerness is and the ways that the witness of queer folks enrich the lives of EVERYONE

[hccn-overseer]

Issue 26, 10/12/2023 - The Overseer

Issue Masterpost About the Overseer

Weekly Weather Report

By Lydia

Temperatures are represented using Celsius. Sorry, Americans!

Wednesday: Temperatures will reach a high of 11 degrees and a low of -2 degrees. Skies will be sunny throughout the day with patches of pink and orange hues tinting all areas during the late morning.

Thursday: Temperatures will reach a high of 6 degrees with a low of -4 degrees. Skies will be mostly cloudy throughout the day with hints of mysterious haze.

Friday: Temperatures will reach a high of 8 degrees and a low of 0 degrees. Skies will be clear throughout the morning with showers throughout the afternoon and evening.

Saturday: Temperatures will reach a high of 12 degrees and a low of 2 degrees. Skies will be partly sunny and windy throughout the day with wind speeds up to 31 miles per hour.

Sunday: Temperatures will reach a high of 3 degrees and a low of -9 degrees. Skies will be mostly cloudy throughout the day.

Monday: Temperatures will reach a high of 13 degrees and a low of 5 degrees. Skies will be mostly clear throughout the day with occasional flashes of spider web clouds.

Tuesday: Temperatures will reach a high of 15 degrees and a low of 2 degrees. Skies will be rainy throughout the entire day with constant downpours.

Wednesday: Temperatures will reach a high of 10 degrees and a low of -4 degrees. Skies will be partly sunny throughout the day with high winds up to 27 miles per hour.

Now onto other news below the cut!

Lost and Found

By Lydia

All of the following items have been brought to The Overseer staff’s office for safekeeping until they are claimed. If you recognize one of these items as yours, please visit us to receive your items, or contact us at lostandfound@thehermitnews.org. Lost items will be sent to Twinkly Trash if not picked up after two weeks. Thank you! *Not a real email address.

Item 1: A collection of Modigliani paintings These long-faced paintings, reproduced for commercialism in the Shopping District, were found scattered throughout Scarland. They depict various men and women in sitting poses with relatively uninterested expressions and exaggeratedly long necks.

Item 2: A beard shaving kit This kit was found in Etho’s ruins and includes a double edge safety razor, pre-shaving oil, after-shave balm, a badger brush, and a beard trimmer. This kit was taken out of a shulker box and left near Impulse’s Dwarven Keep.

Item 3: Three hotel luggage carts These luggage carts were found with several empty unused trash bags piled on them near Hypno’s base. It is unknown what the intended purpose was for these luggage carts, and they are on the brink of falling apart.

Item 4: A book about keeping iguanas This reptile pet-care book was found in Pearl’s tree house and was published in 2022. There are illustrations on each page and the book appears to have been very well-loved over the past year. The illustrations are fully colored and appear to be as detailed as humanly possible.

Item 5: A headband with three skulls This headband has three plastic skulls attached to them and is covered in glitter. The headband itself is black and the skulls are bright orange, purple, and green.

Item 6: A group of miniature pumpkin stress balls These stress balls in the shape of miniature pumpkins were found near xBCrafted’s base and have been painted with various geometric patterns using a rainbow color palette. They glow in the dark and appear to have been ordered from a very old magazine catalog.

Item 7: A cursed box This box, fused shut with an intricate golden vine pattern on the lid loop around the front, has launched its finder into a wall upon them attempting to open it. The finder suggests burying it if opening it is not possible.

Fun and Games

This week's fun and games are once again brought to you by Lydia!

And that's all for this week folks! Thank you for reading and have a wonderful day!

[learnstransformation]

Pride Month Parade 2024: Celebrating LGBTQ+ Diversity

It is Pride Month! June is a time for the LGBTQ+ community to celebrate who we are, show off our true colors, and march with joy in our hearts.

One of the most exhilarating parts of Pride Month is the Pride Parade! It's like a big, colorful party where everyone is welcome. People from all walks of life come together to celebrate love, acceptance, and diversity. You'll see folks wearing vibrant rainbow colors, waving flags, and smiling from ear to ear. It's a remarkable sight!

At the Pride Parade, you'll find people of all ages—kids, adults, and even grandparents—dancing in the streets. It's a time to feel proud of who you are and to support others in their journey. You'll see floats decorated with glitter and sparkle, representing different aspects of LGBTQ+ culture and history.

The Pride Parade is not just about having fun, though. It's also a time to raise awareness about LGBTQ+ rights and issues. By marching together, we show the world that we are here, we are proud, and we will not be silenced. Pride Month is a powerful reminder of the progress we've made and the work that still needs to be done for equality and acceptance.

To know more visit: https://giftor.in/pride-month/

[triple-mayday]

It’s Pride Month Y’all 🏳️‍🌈

So, our community took quite a beating this past year, especially gender nonconforming and trans people. Which means there are several things I want you folks, allies included, to accept and commit to.

One: We are back to Pride being a protest. Stay safe, attend community events in groups, be bold, be loud, be absolutely UNAPOLOGETICALLY QUEER. Be mentally ready for right wing cannibals to attack us. Log off social media if you need to.

Two: Don’t let yourself be intimidated. Safety is important, but if you can be extra then go for it. Buy that cheesy gay pin. Wrap yourself in the colors that represent you. Eat cotton candy and dick shaped lollipops. Smear glitter all over your face. Attend a drag show. Flirt with that ambiguously gendered, beautiful stranger across the bar you’ve been staring at for the past thirty minutes. Be happy, meet friends, make love, this is your time.

Three: Bigots are a minority. A dangerous, genocidal, loud, scared, quickly diminishing minority. GOP’s culture war bullshit is not even popular among republicans, they are doomed. We will prevail no matter what. We will survive, we will live, and today we will be proud. Your life is precious. Your community wants to see you flourish. You are accepted by millions, and millions will stand up for you.

Four: People of color get the heaviest punch out of all of us. If you are white/white passing, go out of your damn way to be as welcoming and supportive as you can. Open your ears and listen. Open your heart and love. POC should never feel excluded from queer spaces. We are one community, we must stand up for our own. No tolerance for bullshit, no downplaying racism, no coddling “problematic” people, none of it. Housekeeping, folks. Clean up the space. Bigotry has no place in this community. That includes colorism, xenophobia, antisemitism, Islamophobia, and other flavors of hatred.

Five: Fuck TERFs. Trans people are human beings worthy of love, acceptance, and respect. Transgender, non-binary, intersex, nonconforming, and questioning people BELONG at Pride. We stand in union and we prevail. If you don’t understand these communities then ask THEM about their experiences (with respect and dignity). Do not slurp up diarrhea from some hate forum. Leave your house. Meet people. Be strong. They are not your enemy.

Six: NO INFIGHTING. None. Nada. I don’t care if you see a shitty take on bird app. Block. Move on. I don’t care if some teenager is awkwardly regurgitating a Frankenstein-esque perversion of progressive talking points. No. Not the time. Save it for the year we have all our human rights codified. This month, for the love of everything holy, clench your cheeks and DO. NOT. FIGHT. EACH. OTHER. No bullshit discourse, no oppression Olympics, no “kink at Pride bad”, fuck you, leather puppies do not bite, go eat a rainbow cookie and shut up. This year we are uplifting our community. Meet your elders. Support the kids. And whatever anger and vitriol you have, please, be a doll and throw it all at conservatives. If you need to terrorize someone, go to Matt Walsh’s Twitter and bully him for wanting to fuck underage girls and kill trans kids. Call your representatives and yell at them. If you want to rage, at least make it beneficial to democracy. Don’t target annoying dumbasses in your own community. Target people who are literally trying to murder you.

Stay safe.

Stay strong.

Stay true to yourself.

You are loved. You are wanted. You belong.

Happy Pride, everybody 🏳️‍🌈

[spacefinch]

Assigning a song to EVERY Magic School Bus episode

Gets Lost in Space-- "Space Oddity" by David Bowie

For Lunch-- "The Bloodmobile" by They Might Be Giants

Inside Ralphie-- "Girl at the Window" by Coast Office (my dad's band!)

Gets Eaten-- "Axolotl" by Cosmo Sheldrake

Hops Home-- "We're Going to Be Friends" by the White Stripes

Meets the Rot Squad-- "Everybody Wants To Rule The World" by Tears for Fears

All Dried Up-- "Solar Waltz" by Cosmo Sheldrake

In the Haunted House-- "The Edison Museum" by They Might Be Giants

Gets Ready, Set, Dough-- "American Pie" by Don McLean

Plays Ball-- "All Star" by Smash Mouth

Goes to Seed-- "Tree Among Shrubs" by Men I Trust

Gets Ants in its Pants-- "Tardigrade Song" by Cosmo Sheldrake

Kicks Ups a Storm-- "Mr. Blue Sky" by Electric Light Orchestra

Blows Its Top-- "Island in the Sun" by Weezer

Flexes Its Muscles-- "Bones" by Imagine Dragons

The Busasaurus-- "I Am a Paleontologist" by They Might Be Giants

Going Batty-- "This is Halloween" by Danny Elfman

Butterfly and the Bog Beast-- "Solar" by Cosmo Sheldrake

Wet All Over "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" by B.J. Thomas

In a Pickle-- "The Room Where It Happens" from Hamilton

Revving Up-- "Chemical Worker's Song" by Great Big Sea

Taking Flight-- "Never Let Me Down Again" by Depeche Mode

Getting Energized-- "Erie Canal" (Traditional folk song)

Out of This World-- "Love Don't Roam" by Neil Hannon

Cold Feet-- "Muted Land" by Faith and The Muse

Ups and Downs-- "All That Glitters" by Earl

In a Beehive-- "Buildings In Flower" by The Innocence Mission

In the Arctic-- "California Dreamin'" by The Mamas and the Papas

Spins a Web-- "Metropolis of Eden" by Sparkbird

Under Construction-- "We Built This City" by Starship

Gets a Bright Idea-- "Kill the Lights" by Set it Off

Shows and Tells-- "Time in a Bottle" by Jim Croce

Makes a Rainbow-- "Sunny" by Marvin Gaye

Goes Upstream-- "500 Miles" by The Proclaimers

Works Out-- "Good to Go" by LONIS and Daphne Willis

Gets Planted-- "The Moss" by Cosmo Sheldrake

In the Rainforest-- "Shadow of the Pines" by The Innocence Mission

Rocks and Rolls-- "Ain't No Mountain High Enough" by Marvin Gaye

Holiday Special-- "I Search For Tomorrow" by Leonard Nimoy

Meets Molly Cule-- "Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)" by ABBA

Cracks a Yolk-- "Daily" by The Innocence Mission

Goes to Mussel Beach-- "Pelicans We" by Cosmo Sheldrake

Goes on Air-- "Toxic" by Britney Spears

Gets Swamped-- "Spock Thoughts" by Leonard Nimoy

Goes Cellular-- "Cells" by They Might Be Giants

Sees Stars-- "Space Song" by Beach House

Gains Weight-- "Planet Earth" by Duran Duran

Makes a Stink

Gets Charged-- "Make a Circuit With Me" by the Polecats

Gets Programmed-- "Rule #4: Fish in a Birdcage" by Fish in a Birdcage

In the City-- "November" by Sparkbird

Takes a Dive-- "Taroko" by August Greenwood

This list took me almost 2 consecutive hours to write, so please feel free to send me asks so I can talk about why I chose the songs I did.

[bitbybitwrites]

If I Can Make Your Heart My Home - Recipe and Song list - Chp 10, 11 and 12

Here is the music/recipe wrap-up for chapters 10, 11, 12

You can see the info under the cover art by @datshitrandom

Some spoilers are below, so if you'd like to read the fic first, click here

Click below for the recipe and song lists for:

Chapters 1, 2 and 3, Chapters 4, 5 and 6, Chapters 7, 8 and 9

To see the YouTube playlist for the fic, click here.

Chapter 10

Mood music/Music in the chapter

That wasn't me.  I liked tea parties, making soufflés and petit fours, and belting out show tunes. 

Soufflé (you know if it's Kurt, it's gonna be a rum chocolate one!)

Click here for the recipe: WARM CHOCOLATE RUM SOUFFLE WITH CHOCOLATE SAUCE

I shared what I thought would have been Elizabeth Hummel's petit four recipe in chapter one. Here are a couple of other recipes I can see Kurt making.

Chapter 11

Mood music

Kurt laughed at Blaine as they stepped out of the taxi in front of the Chinese restaurant where Mike’s party was being held.  Red bags in hand, Blaine was practically bounding on the tips of his toes in excitement. “What has gotten into you?”  Kurt asked, marveling at the enormous grin plastered on the other man’s face. “Kurt, “ Blaine had this incredulous look on his face as he addressed him.  “Have you never been to Jing Fong before?” “Um, no?” “Wait, wait . . or had dim sum, like ever?”

The mention of Julliard again started to make Kurt's pulse race.  He quickly selected a bao (pork bun)  from one of the bamboo steamer baskets littering the table.  As he bit into it to distract himself, Kurt savored the fluffy bun and the sweet and savory pork inside. 

Brittany pulled Kurt out of Blaine’s arms and into the kitchen.  “Oooh, Kurt can you make me the pretty pink unicorn drink you made me last week?” She giggled excitedly and clapped her hands as Kurt nodded. Britany practically skipped away after Kurt as she followed him into the kitchen.

Tried to think of what Brittany would consider as a pink unicorn drink that Kurt would have made her. Here's are some ideas ( I imagine, whatever it is, the rim would be covered in pink sugar crystals or some sort of rainbow edible glitter, no?

Chapter 12

Mood music

I want to say thanks again to all the folks who have been reading along with the fic. I really appreciate your kudos, comments, and just the time you're taking out of your lives to spend with these versions of our favorite characters.

I mentioned on A03 we aren't done with these boys yet - there's more story to come. I'm just going to be a bit busy with family things and some traveling in the next few weeks, so there's going to be a little wait for chapter 13. And I think it's a good one!

I'll catch up with responding to some of your past comments as well!

See you soon!

bitbybit

[foodandfolklore]

How Odin lost his eye

Art by Malevus

I found a book from 1906 that was a collection of already existing stories from other already published books. These stories were collected by Hamilton Wright Mabie in his book Myths Every Child should know. He wrote many books like this, for both adults and children. A collection of stories he felt everyone should be aware of. Pomes, Shakespeare, Fairytales, Culture; even Publishing a book about Japan in 1914, 2 years before his death.

I think he was fascinated by stories of old, as well as how it can shape cultures of today. While he didn't write these stories himself, he clearly wanted more people to know about these stories. So I thought I'd share one while I think many know, I still think it's important to share. This story can originally be found in In the days of Giants by Abbie Farwell Brown, 1902.

How Odin lost his eye

In the beginning of things, before there was any world or sun, moon, and stars, there were the giants; for these were the oldest creatures that ever breathed. They lived in Jotunheim, the land of frost and darkness, and their hearts were evil. Next came the gods, the good Æsir, who made earth and sky and sea, and who dwelt in Asgard, above the heavens. Then were created the queer little dwarfs, who lived underground in the caverns of the mountains, working at their mines of metal and precious stones. Last of all, the gods made men to dwell in Midgard, the good world that we know, between which and the glorious home of the Æsir stretched Bifröst, the bridge of rainbows.

In those days, folk say, there was a mighty ash tree named Yggdrasil, so vast that its branches shaded the whole earth and stretched up into heaven where the Æsir dwelt, while its roots sank far down below the lowest depth. In the branches of the big ash tree lived a queer family of creatures. First, there was a great eagle, who was wiser than any bird that ever lived—except the two ravens, Thought and Memory, who sat upon Father Odin's shoulders and told him the secrets which they learned in their flight over the wide world. Near the great eagle perched a hawk, and four antlered deer browsed among the buds of Yggdrasil. At the foot of the tree coiled a huge serpent, who was always gnawing hungrily at its roots, with a whole colony of little snakes to keep him company—so many that they could never be counted. The eagle at the top of the tree and the serpent at its foot were enemies, always saying hard things of each other. Between the two skipped up and down a little squirrel, a tale bearer and a gossip, who repeated each unkind remark and, like the malicious neighbour that he was, kept their quarrel ever fresh and green.

In one place at the roots of Yggdrasil was a fair fountain called the Urdar-well, where the three Norn maidens, who knew the past, present, and future, dwelt with their pets, the two white swans. This was magic water in the fountain, which the Norns sprinkled every day upon the giant tree to keep it green—water so sacred that everything which entered it became white as the film of an eggshell. Close beside this sacred well the Æsir had their council hall, to which they galloped every morning over the rainbow bridge.

But Father Odin, the king of all the Æsir, knew of another fountain more wonderful still; the two ravens whom he sent forth to bring him news had told him. This also was below the roots of Yggdrasil, in the spot where the sky and ocean met. Here for centuries and centuries the giant Mimer had sat keeping guard over his hidden well, in the bottom of which lay such a treasure of wisdom as was to be found nowhere else in the world. Every morning Mimer dipped his glittering horn Giöll into the fountain and drew out a draught of the wondrous water, which he drank to make him wise. Every day he grew wiser and wiser; and as this had been going on ever since the beginning of things, you can scarcely imagine how wise Mimer was.

Now it did not seem right to Father Odin that a giant should have all this wisdom to himself; for the giants were the enemies of the Æsir, and the wisdom which they had been hoarding for ages before the gods were made was generally used for evil purposes. Moreover, Odin longed and longed to become the wisest being in the world. So he resolved to win a draught from Mimer's well, if in any way that could be done.

One night, when the sun had set behind the mountains of Midgard, Odin put on his broad-brimmed hat and his striped cloak, and taking his famous staff in his hand, trudged down the long bridge to where it ended by Mimer's secret grotto.

"Good-day, Mimer," said Odin, entering; "I have come for a drink from your well."

The giant was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chin, his long white beard falling over his folded arms, and his head nodding; for Mimer was very old, and he often fell asleep while watching over his precious spring. He woke with a frown at Odin's words. "You want a drink from my well, do you?" he growled. "Hey! I let no one drink from my well."

"Nevertheless, you must let me have a draught from your glittering horn," insisted Odin, "and I will pay you for it."

"Oho, you will pay me for it, will you?" echoed Mimer, eyeing his visitor keenly. For now that he was wide awake, his wisdom taught him that this was no ordinary stranger. "What will you pay for a drink from my well, and why do you wish it so much?"

"I can see with my eyes all that goes on in heaven and upon earth," said Odin, "but I cannot see into the depths of ocean. I lack the hidden wisdom of the deep—the wit that lies at the bottom of your fountain. My ravens tell me many secrets; but I would know all. And as for payment, ask what you will, and I will pledge anything in return for the draught of wisdom."

Then Mimer's keen glance grew keener. "You are Odin, of the race of gods," he cried. "We giants are centuries older than you, and our wisdom which we have treasured during these ages, when we were the only creatures in all space, is a precious thing. If I grant you a draught from my well, you will become as one of us, a wise and dangerous enemy. It is a goodly price, Odin, which I shall demand for a boon so great."

Now Odin was growing impatient for the sparkling water. "Ask your price," he frowned. "I have promised that I will pay."

"What say you, then, to leaving one of those far-seeing eyes of yours at the bottom of my well?" asked Mimer, hoping that he would refuse the bargain. "This is the only payment I will take."

Odin hesitated. It was indeed a heavy price, and one that he could ill afford, for he was proud of his noble beauty. But he glanced at the magic fountain bubbling mysteriously in the shadow, and he knew that he must have the draught.

"Give me the glittering horn," he answered. "I pledge you my eye for a draught to the brim."

Very unwillingly Mimer filled the horn from the fountain of wisdom and handed it to Odin. "Drink, then," he said; "drink and grow wise. This hour is the beginning of trouble between your race and mine." And wise Mimer foretold the truth.

Odin thought merely of the wisdom which was to be his. He seized the horn eagerly, and emptied it without delay. From that moment he became wiser than anyone else in the world except Mimer himself.

Now he had the price to pay, which was not so pleasant. When he went away from the grotto, he left at the bottom of the dark pool one of his fiery eyes, which twinkled and winked up through the magic depths like the reflection of a star. This is how Odin lost his eye, and why from that day he was careful to pull his gray hat low over his face when he wanted to pass unnoticed. For by this oddity folk could easily recognise the wise lord of Asgard.

In the bright morning, when the sun rose over the mountains of Midgard, old Mimer drank from his bubbly well a draught of the wise water that flowed over Odin's pledge. Doing so, from his underground grotto he saw all that befell in heaven and on earth. So that he also was wiser by the bargain. Mimer seemed to have secured rather the best of it; for he lost nothing that he could not spare, while Odin lost what no man can well part with—one of the good windows wherethrough his heart looks out upon the world. But there was a sequel to these doings which made the balance swing down in Odin's favour.

Not long after this, the Æsir quarrelled with the Vanir, wild enemies of theirs, and there was a terrible battle. But in the end the two sides made peace; and to prove that they meant never to quarrel again, they exchanged hostages. The Vanir gave to the Æsir old Niörd the rich, the lord of the sea and the ocean wind, with his two children, Frey and Freia. This was indeed a gracious gift; for Freia was the most beautiful maid in the world, and her twin brother was almost as fair. To the Vanir in return Father Odin gave his own brother Hœnir. And with Hœnir he sent Mimer the wise, whom he took from his lonely well.

Now the Vanir made Hœnir their chief, thinking that he must be very wise because he was the brother of great Odin, who had lately become famous for his wisdom. They did not know the secret of Mimer's well, how the hoary old giant was far more wise than anyone who had not quaffed of the magic water. It is true that in the assemblies of the Vanir Hœnir gave excellent counsel. But this was because Mimer whispered in Hœnir's ear all the wisdom that he uttered. Witless Hœnir was quite helpless without his aid, and did not know what to do or say. Whenever Mimer was absent he would look nervous and frightened, and if folk questioned him he always answered:

"Yes, ah yes! Now go and consult someone else."

Of course the Vanir soon grew very angry at such silly answers from their chief, and presently they began to suspect the truth. "Odin has deceived us," they said. "He has sent us his foolish brother with a witch to tell him what to say. Ha! We will show him that we understand the trick." So they cut off poor old Mimer's head and sent it to Odin as a present.

The tales do not say what Odin thought of the gift. Perhaps he was glad that now there was no one in the whole world who could be called so wise as himself. Perhaps he was sorry for the danger into which he had thrust a poor old giant who had never done him any wrong, except to be a giant of the race which the Æsir hated. Perhaps he was a little ashamed of the trick which he had played the Vanir. Odin's new wisdom showed him how to prepare Mimer's head with herbs and charms, so that it stood up by itself quite naturally and seemed not dead. Thenceforth Odin kept it near him, and learned from it many useful secrets which it had not forgotten.

So in the end Odin fared better than the unhappy Mimer, whose worst fault was that he knew more than most folk. That is a dangerous fault, as others have found; though it is not one for which many of us need fear being punished.

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

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