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Was Doctor Sleep A Horror

A Villainess's Redemption as a Doctor

Minseok Lee had just finished his final exam, the one he'd been studying for over the past few weeks, and it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders.  He was officially a doctor now—one of the youngest ever in his prestigious medical university.  A new chapter in his life was about to begin.  He smiled as he crossed the street, his thoughts already drifting to his future: perhaps a research position, maybe a residency abroad.  "Maybe" Then, in an instant, the world flipped. A screeching sound filled the air as a truck came barreling toward him.  He didn't even have a chance to process the impact before everything went black. - ??? - When Minseok regained consciousness, it wasn't the sterile, white lights of a hospital room that greeted him, but the dim, ornate chandeliers of a vast, foreign bedroom.  He blinked several times, groaning softly as his vision cleared.  His head felt foggy, his body uncomfortably warm, like he had just woken from a fever dream.  Slowly, he sat up, hands trembling as he adjusted the thick, luxurious sheets around him.  Something didn't feel right.  The air was heavy, charged with an unnatural tension, as he had somehow wandered into an unfamiliar world. Confused, Minseok stood, only to stumble.  His legs, not his own, felt unfamiliar beneath him. Slender and weak.  He looked down in a panic. What...? He gasped as he took in the sight of the delicate, flowing gown. An intricate dress of gold and violet silk, clinging to a body that was most certainly not his own.  Long, platinum blonde hair cascaded around him like a waterfall, framing a face with sharp, aristocratic features.  His fingers, slender and elegant, were adorned with glistening jewels, and his reflection in the mirror across the room confirmed the horrifying truth: he wasn't Minseok Lee anymore. He was someone else. Princess Seraphina Lumastra. Minseok's breath caught in his throat as fragmented memories began to surge through him. An avalanche of emotions, thoughts, and experiences that did not belong to him.  Seraphina Lumastra, a villainess in this unfamiliar world, is notorious for her cruelty, arrogance, and, worst of all, her inevitable downfall.  He had read about her tragic end at the hands of a hero she had wronged in a story he'd once skimmed for fun. But this wasn't a novel.  This was reality.  His reality.  "No..." he whispered hoarsely, his voice carrying the regal accent of a princess.  "No, no, no... How did this happen?" Panic started to consume him.  He had died.  He had to have died, right?  The truck, everything, it had to be an accident, some bizarre twist of fate.  But now, here he was, inside the body of someone who was destined for tragedy. His mind raced with thoughts.  He didn't know how or why, but somehow, he was trapped in Seraphina's life... her fate. His fate. A cold shiver ran down his spine as the reality of it all settled in.  He was a doctor, he had helped save lives.  Now he was a villainess in a kingdom teetering on the edge of war.  The future, as it had been written, was inescapable.  Seraphina's marriage was just around the corner, to a prince who would come to despise her.  Her reign as the kingdom's most feared woman would end in a bloody coup, one he might have to face sooner than he wanted. But Minseok was no longer just some passive observer in a world of stories. He had a chance.  A second life.  And somehow, he would find a way to rewrite this twisted fate.  He wouldn't let it end like that.  Not if he had any say in the matter. With a deep breath, he steadied himself.  The memory of a doctor's resolve settled in his chest, calming his panic.  No matter the body he was in, he was still Minseok Lee.  And he wasn't going to go down without a fight. Not as Princess Seraphina Lumastra. But as Minseok Lee.
Raoul_le_valentino · 10.8K Views

To Sleep In The Sea Of Time

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling
man_of_culture3030 · 686.4K Views
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