#chew dee balloon

[pissbbyy]

you rockin w/ the 2-D balloon ⁉️⁉️⁉️

[streetglider]

(Dees Nederlandsche Koe, altoos door Waereld-grooten ... | Library of Congressから)

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Cartoon_about_the_Duke_of_Brunswick_and_William_V_1784.jpg

Dees Nederlandsche Koe. altoos Waereld-grooten. Dutch political cartoon about the partitioning of the Netherlands shows the shorning and dismembering of the Nederlandsche cow. The Neerlands lion. an enraged Louis Bonaparte. King of Holland (with sword drawn). and a Gallic cock watch. while the Britsche Dog chews on a severed leg of a cow. A man with a crown at his feet (possibly Joseph Bonaparte. King of Spain) shears the cow's horns with a large saw; a woman Katryn (possibly Catherine. de Wurtemberg. queen. consort of Jerome Bonaparte. King of Westphalia) takes a knife to the cow's tail. Standing center is a woman holding a pike topped with a hat and standing on another hat. On the right. three women whip the bare buttocks of a man (possibly Frederick William III. King of Prussia) who is prostrate over a wheeled chair or throne. Above this scene floats a balloon with canoe shaped basket with two passengers. (Photo by: Sepia Times/Universal Images Group via Getty Images)

[lucarioisinthevoid]

Maybe Molten Freddy, Nightmare Bonnie, Old Man Consequences and Nightmare Balloon Boy for the challenge?

“Challenge? What challenge?” Henry scoffed. “The only problem I see in this line-up is the Balloon Demon and even then- the others are hardly a factor, I will be able to focus on him.” Brazen words from the Pink Man, let’s see how well he actually fares.

The night started like always, albeit with the difference of Nightmare Balloon Boy waltzing right in, giving him a toothy grin. “MY MY LOOK AT WHO WE HAVE HERE. WHAT AN ODDLY SHAPED TOOTHPICK YOU ARE.” “There is value to oddity, novelty has its place in the universe… but your disgusting mug does not. How MADE you?” “THE ONE AND ONLY! MADE BY DAVEY, TO IMPRESS HIS LOVER!” At that Henry made a noise of disgust. “Dave has no loved ones. He has objects of obsession that he strips of all choice. I suppose he is lucky that this time around he picked someone who was used to being merely a tool for those around him.” “SOMEONE SOUNDS BITTER!” “Oh, you wish.” The creature laughed while Henry pulled up the screen in order to start gathering the tokens he would need to calm the nightmarish bunny. At least that one he made himself. God, he would kill himself for good measure if this stupid bloated oversized garden gnome caused his death. But he was focusing and unless the terrible Dee Dee would pop up and ruin his night, this should be just fine. The bear was too manic, unable to control the laughter bubbling up inside of him whenever he saw the helpless human being stuck to his chair in the office- thus it was a joke to force him to stay outside. Leaving two problems, the nightmare and the old man. It was fine, it was fine. Scanning each and every screen on the cameras, he began gathering the money he would need for that plushy. Twenty tokens was basically nothing in theory, but it was hard to earn those by simply picking them up in random rooms. Clicking around, he could basically feel the gnome stare at him, drooling- But… he didn’t attack. That was worth the test. “For someone who claims to be so eager about using me as a toothpick, you seem rather hesitant.” Pulling down the screen, he looked the creature into the eye, before flashing him, causing him to step back once more. “You have to wait for me to mess up, if you like it or not.” “THE WORLD IS QUITE UNFAIR, AIN’T IT?” “The old man can take over my screen, whenever he pleases, the bear can arrive at the door whenever he sees fit- but you have to wait for me to pull the screen down, see you and then pull it back up. You have to give me a chance.” With that the Pink Guy pulled the screen back up, absent-mindedly pushing down the button on the door again as he heard laughter. “Hua-ahhahahahhaa- H-HENRYYYYYYY- h-hey! Y-you PARTY POOPER!” The sound of teeth grinding against teeth were audible, as the present Nightmare struggled to hide his frustration. “YOU REALLY SHOULD STOP YOUR TAUNTING, MORSEL.” “Or what? Or you kill me? Because as far as I am concerned, you are planning on doing that either way. I think I will continue doing what makes me feel the most comfortable with you inside MY office.” “IF YOU BODY IS AS TOUGH AS YOUR EGO, I’LL HAVE TO CHEW ON YOU FOR DAYS! THAT WILL BE FUNNY!” Pulling down the screen, Henry flashed the standing machine once more. “If you manage to catch me, that is. For now though it seems unlikely… it seems that whoever made this place likes me more than you.” “NO!” “No? Are you sure? Because he seems to be giving me all the benefits in this place and you none of them.” And that was when he went for his final bluff. “… after all, he is merely watching and not even joining you and the other in attacking me.” “THAT- THAT IS BECAUSE-“ “So he IS here.” That was all the conformation he had needed. The being was here, it was paying close attention, and it chose not to do harm. … it was frustrating. While it gave him a certain level of power over everything, something he could appreciate, yet it made him feel terribly humiliated. Yes, he was entertainment, that far was obvious by the creatures breaking the bound of the universe to provide messages from beyond… but it was even more egregious that this time it was someone from his own timeline. ‘The one you shouldn’t have killed’. What a title. Telling him a lot and yet nothing at all. Despite wanting to, Henry never had much contact to those he had been killing- a sad happenstance, truly, but nothing he could change about it now. Nobody he had paid attention to. No adult, no child. Yet there was a being so upset at having been murdered, that it- No, not upset. The anger was… There was violence, but anger? The plastic nightmare had kept his mouth shut so far, obviously aware that he talked too much. Henry’s attention slightly shifted over, to- the same topic, really. But different. “… this place is quite peculiar. You belong here, that is for sure. You follow the rules, of this… game. But the old man? The suit? I cannot fathom where they came from. What they are.” Finally, he could afford the plush. Not that Nightmare Bonnie even had shown itself. A little blue bunny took place on the table in front of him, being at least more sightly than Nightmare Balloon Boy. “Finally, a likeable companion in this office.” The machine on the other side gave off a hoarse laughter- kept quiet though, stubbornly. Henry glanced at the clock, then checked the vents, locking out the Funtime Machine one more time. Red light covered his face as the little fishing game flashed up, gone within a moment again. No more problems were in his way. Not in this night. Before he knew it, his fingers were tapping on the table again, as his thoughts running wild. Questions, questions, questions. For now he would have to pull information out of the cracks and corners of this thrown together pocket dimension. Test out the limits. And for that he would have to face them all out at once. Beating these machines was slowly becoming his second nature. It was only a matter of time.

[spacegaywritings]

Communication of Silence - Chapter 9: Ups and Downs

I am rly tired and i think now TWs outside of the general ones for the whole story apply. Except there is food ig? Idk man, shoot me a message when you got sth I overlooked bc I am just big stress rn. linky link :) Story under the cut;

Virgil shuffled under his blanket and pushed his bottom lip forward into a little pout. His head was pounding dully and his vision was just blurry enough to have issues seeing Dee despite her being so close around.

“Talk...”, he repeated softly and nodded. The sleep was still heavy on her limbs, the nap seemed to have left him in a more tired out state than before. Exhaustion was pulling at his body and he extended his arms, making grabby hands like a little toddler who wanted to be picked up. Declyn gave him a smile and carefully moved around to let the other wrap his arms around her neck. She moved and tugged Virgil along.

Logan was far away enough to not directly be disturbed for now. He was still peacefully slumbering in the middle of the couch while the couple slowly moved away. “Room”, Virgil muttered as he held onto Dee who supported him without complaints. She nodded. “Of course.” The elder one carefully helped Virgil up and together they silently sneaked over to the room he shared with Logan. At least now he was sleeping and sure to not come back.

Virgil’s arms were lowered down to be around Dee’s chest by now instead of the neck. It helped him stretch with more comfort and still have the stability of walking around without immediately dropping to the floor like the wet sack of stones he was to his own life. He bit his lip as his partner reached out to open the door with the precision and care he would not have expected from the other considering his eyesight and the fact that it was dim enough to almost be dark at the moment.

The punk muttered an apology as the door opened and he leaned back, rolling onto his feet in a more straight-up position. He held onto the door frame and swung himself into the room, stumbling a little before he patted the light switch with a slap of his left hand that crossed over his chest to reach around to it. Light immersed them and blessed their eyes with temporary hurt in exchange for better vision after a few moments of adjustment.

Dee groaned at the new light and stepped into the room, dragging the door behind her until it was shut and closed them both off the others. Right now, they were alone with the elephant int the room. Virgil carefully slipped onto Logan’s bed instead of making the long way around it. He settled once he slid off it and right onto his mattress that was conveniently close.

Yes, he did not mind sleeping there, no matter how much people got worried about him or told him it was undignified or something. He liked it. Also it was a short-lived thing and he would move out in about a month. He would be fine together with his brother and he would be out of all the bullshit. Then again, he had not even a single problem with Logan.   Far from it.

He could see Dee move to join him on his little bed and she stayed at a distance. “Thank you for the light, Virgil” The art student cast a glance aside and shrugged. “Just spill it, okay? What did I fuck up this time - I.. I can stop, okay?”

Her expression changed from remotely pained to utterly horrified. “Virgil, no.” She breathed out and closed her eyes, her more neutral expression switching back onto her features in an attempt to ease up herself as much as Virgil. “I am worried about you. I do not want you to change for my liking but for your health.”

The student shook his head and gripped his lower arms through his sleeves. Immediately, a rubbing, intense pain spread through his left one and he hissed at the sensation yet denied the possibility of letting it go.

“Just tell me what I fucked up!”, he snarled, teeth ramming into his lip as he desperately kept his gaze on his mattress. The lawyer sighed softly but did try not to aggravate the other too much. Virgil was much like a cat and if it was not fight then it was flight - the mood would change faster than a dysfunctional compass needle could spin under the influence of magnets. “It is less about what you do but what you do not do, Virgil. You stopped eating again. Your friend messaged you and I saw it when your phone vibrated so much, it almost woke up you and Logan. A chain of whether you are alright and reminders of eating and taking certain supplements because you fainted in your self-defence training session.”

Virgil chewed on his bottom lip a if to bite through the situation. White, sharp teeth dug into his pale lips and created a contrast that would only be topped by the copper taste of crimson running from broken skin and destructive habits. “Yeah, so?” He grabbed his arms tighter and winced at the pain yet stayed grounded. It was shooting through him. It was quick like a bunny in the moment of flight and sharper than Dee's words had ever been.

Oh no. “My heart, would you mind giving me your hands, please? I just want to hold them for you.” Virgil looked over, merely glancing over her legs and shrugged eventually. His lips moved off his teeth and he shifted his legs to the so he could carefully reach over to give Declyn his hands. She received them and gently pushed her thumbs into his palms, softly brushing over the area in the middle of his hands that was a tad lower. The touch reminded him of stepping into a tub of hot bath water after a particularly icy and stressful time. It was sudden and he wanted to pull away at all the new sensations. The heat, the comfort, the smells and the hands that grabbed the heavy burden of his problems and worries. He did not pull back. Virgil eased into the touch like he would ease into the welcoming warmth of a relaxing bath. “See? I am not hurting you, Virgil. It is all good. I am just worried around you.”

The younger one nodded carefully and insistently stared into their hands. “Did you talk about it in therapy, darling?” Virgil sniffled and shrugged. “I can skip lesson and go tomorrow”, he mumbled into his hoodie. The fabric soaked up his anxiety and became heavy with his fear in solidarity. “Em lets me have emergency sessions if it is really bad.” Dee continued brushing over his hands, his thumbs moving in a steady rhythm. They travelled smoothly like the waves of the ocean that approached and left the beach curiously. It was a promise to rely on, the kiss of goodbye and the embrace of meeting again after so long.

“You do not have to. But if you feel that you relapse maybe you should talk to someone. If it has to be  professional, then so be it.” Virgil snorted. “You are a professional, Dee.” - “I am talking about a professional for mental health issues more than legal ones but I appreciate your effort.”

A long silence stretched between them like a tired cat. One end reaching up to Dee's knee over to Virgil's big toe. “Why did you stop?”

Virgil felt tears sting into his eyes, the words pushing his lacrimal glands to squeeze out the salty liquid he had stored plenty of in his body. He gasped for air. His lungs were raging and howling within him, demanding more and more air to enter his system without really appreciating it. They were simply throwing a tantrum for the sake of messing him up even further.

He shoulders flinched upwards in a weak motion and immediately dropped down to the lowest level they could anatomically reach without possibly be broken in the first place. His teeth clenched around his lips again. They were stuck and sucked into a grasp of violence and abuse as he stubbornly shook his head. The blood rushed through him in a quick sprint, painting his cold body in panicked flushes like rashes of abused skin.

“N-nothing”, he defended. His voice was deflated, thinner than hair strands that were bleached into oblivion and disintegration. Declyn’s warm eyes took the change into account and watched the rapid speed at which his lungs expanded and, just shortly after, decreased in volume like a popped balloon.

She carefully squeezed Virgil’s hands with a tad more force, acting like a strong life line that may cut into you but ultimately, caused nothing but collateral damage. Glass and metal shreds pressed into Virgil’s feelings as he gasped for air. His legs pushed and pressed his back further into the pillow behind him and the uncomfortable corner between the wall that backed up his mattress, and Logan’s bed bordering to it. He was effectively resting his shoulders against the wall and the bed, his back pushing into the nothing he could not reach due to the angle.

It would have caused more than dull pressing sensations rather than actual pain his body provided as warning signal. However, he could feel the heat coming from Dee as his body seemed to fade. All life and personal warmth was draining from him, down the pipes and into the void he felt eating him away. He was glad for it.

“Virgil, Virgil, listen to me”, Dee called out as Virgil starting tugging at her grip in an attempt to claw his finger nails into his skin and ground himself, just come back to where he should be so he could be faced with every dirt and filth he deserved to be pushed into him. All his sucky habits and horrible attitudes should qualify him to suck up to the damage he had done to others when he brought them down with his mere existence.

He was a bad influence. Virgil should not be, he should be gone gone gone because he kept hurting nice people in his life. He made Kyle worry and have Dee be mad with him - and she was right about it. If she had any sense of right and wrong with her like any other conventional person, she would beat it into him and let him feel just how much pain he had caused her by abusing the feeling she had in herself for his own sorry self.

Gasps and sobs could be heard but Virgil was deafened and muted by his own racing heartbeat. It was beating a lot right now, probably making up for the times it could not beat when he would miss out on all these years he could have but was not worthy of. He had not earned a single day more than beyond the day he was born and had wretched people apart, tearing life down with him and starting his career as professional bringer of misery and death.

It was his fault, his fault, only his fault. If he had not survived, everyone would have had a better and nicer life. If he had not lived in the first place, everything should have been goon and precious to everyone and people would finally be full of joy. Heck, not just individuals but whole countries and systems would be better off without the chaos he had caused. The best achievement in life was truly taking care of a rodent he should probably have never taken in but he just had to be so self-absorbed and convinced he was better than others and would do such a great job when in reality, he was the apparently oh so innocent manifestation of doom.

“Virgil. Virgil, can you hear me?”, a voice called. He barely heard it. His head fell back against nothing and almost rolled off. His joints had him good and instead, it unceremoniously snapped backwards and circled around like an egg. He took the effort to angle his neck a bit just to try and locate the noise that intruded into his system and disturbed his thoughts. The sounds just came in, wrecking the havoc in his mind and tearing down the storms of self-deprecation like an ideal sniper who gave just one sound here, another one there and directed yet another load of sounds into a direction Virgil did not even know he was bombarded from.

It took some more moments for him to let his knocked down mind process that the shit storm of pessimistic thoughts was barely hitting him anymore despite aiming at his form. In true fashion of lethargy, some more time passed before he blinked away the veil of self-directed odium and contempt and could see the distant picture of two hands holding a pair of other hands together. Colours were melting together but he felt as if he knew those were hands.

The artist hummed at the sensation. It was a weak attempt at vocalising the gratitude within him. For some reason, he just felt that these hands were something good, something personally connected to him like a string attached to his heart. It was so strong, he could feel the ghastly phantom touch at the area he assumed to be his own fingers.

“hm..huh...hm..”. Nonsense plunged from his slightly parted lips. His face was static, slow. It was frozen water, a video stopped in the middle of a scene while the rest of the world was still moving on despite his conserved state. Maybe he was in a snow globe. He was the middle. Unmoving, unimportant and surrounded by all that made people wonder and squeak in delight while he was the decoration people tolerated. He was the least of the worst ones.

He blinked, trying to clear up the whitish coat that seemed to not just blur his vision but darken all he could see as well. It seemed so unsteady and moving... It made him sick and...and sweaty and sick... so sick and heavy..

His fingers moved to sign “bathroom”, a word Dee knew at last. Whether or not she had but a few knowledge about the language used, she knew this words as part of a few common phrases she could react and identify at last. She nodded and carefully tugged the corpse-like body of her datemate forward.

He did not know what took so long about making eggs but he was grateful that Roman and Patton took their sweet time preparing things one by one and especially using sweet potatoes because they took a while to get soft enough for comfortable consumption. The couple made it into the room without issues and Declyn quickly shut and locked the door behind them after stumbling through the dark and running a few edges of furniture. It did not hurt too much but she was glad that she usually covered about as much as she could without appearing to be suspicious to other people or mask her face away. She could feel little areas throb in pain at the impact but it was none of her concern at the moment.

Virgil immediately dropped to his knees, arms ready to embrace the porcelain throne before him as he felt heat and sweat break through his body. Sick, nauseous. It was tickling in his throat, trying to provoke Patton’s baked delight out of him.

There was something else. Not within him. Besides his pounding heart, light head and sweating palms, there was the distant sound of another voice. Not his thoughts but another person.

It sounded like Dee but did not feel liker her.

”Sweetheart, you are safe”, she cooed patiently. Her words dropped onto him like water droplets in a cleansing shower. His body temperature seemed to immediately drop.

”It is okay. I would never hurt you. I am sorry for touching you.”

Virgil heard the words and took them in, accepted them with a dazed head and heavy yet light feelings in his body. This was like being drunk but there was no fun in it. There was so much going on within and outside of him, he could barely keep track. It was.. was like standing in the middle of the busy street, tires roaring and engines blaring while the heavy vehicles sped around him. And he was trapped and caged and could not get out and it was dangerous and loud and bad, so bad. Why was it so bad, why was he standing there! This was dumb, he was dumb, he must have done dumb things to make all of this happen and endanger him and others and he was so scared and worried. Oh fuck, he would die a nameless and faceless victim in a dumb car crash and no lane was every free enough for him to run over to the other side and be safe.

He could not even try it, he would never try it because it was doomed. He was bound to fail, he was, he.. he was already

..warm.

A warm hand gently caressed his cheek, brushing over his cheekbone. A silent yet constant sound could be heard. Like rushing of the water. Water did not hurt him.. water was okay..

”It is okay, you are safe.”

Virgil nodded against the heat in his body, the heavy and heat feeling that had him so dizzy. It was hard. It felt so hard.

The water sound returned and slowed down, Virgil concentrated on it with all his might. He tuned out all the sounds, all the voices and the worries. Nothing mattered. Just the water, just the sound from out there. His heart was not going to jump out of his chest, his body was not going to collapse and he would not just die.

What about his lungs-

Panic flared up within him once more. His small figure retreated and hit itself on a wall just to lean into the steady touch of something to lean against, to hold onto.

”Virgil, please, can you hear me?”

He nodded again. The voice was nice, he knew the voice was nice and he was okay... the voice made it okay. It would be okay. His tired eyes closed and he let his body slump against the wall.

”Put your feet down and press them against the ground, feel the floor, okay?”

There.. was no real sense to him or anything at this moment so he just did as he was told, trusting the voice to continue and be nice as he felt it would continue to be. Nice voice... Ground.. ground.. His toes curled and pushed his heels back against the ground with all the resistance he deemed fit. It was ..experimental and careful at first. There was a motivation and understanding that was not in these heels but somewhere else.

”Ease up, again”

He followed the instruction and let himself go limp. The whole tension had served him in nothing but pushing his back against the wall. It was a wall, a cool wall but it was not cold.

”You are here, Virgil. You are right here with me and you are safe.” He nodded again. His head just bopped forward as if knocked out but he was moderately-paced at leaning his head back against the wall once more. ”You are at home, do you know? You are here, in the bathroom. You live here with Logan in a room. Logan is a nice person, right?”

The emo smiled for a bit. He might not feel the happiness like sunshine in his heart but it did do the job to make the dull numbness fuck off a bit more.

“And you are living here and you are safe and you are not there anymore. You are not with them anymore. You are with people like Logan, like myself.”

Virgil felt his lip twitch into a lopsided smile. It was but the flash of a moment, the split in a second and the beat of his heart. Yes, Logan was nice. Dee was nice. She was really kind and made him feel pretty good. Like a natural thing.

“You are safe. Right here, or with me.”

The smaller one carefully nodded and slowly rose his hand to pat the space next to him before he started pushing his heels against the floor again. A grounding activity, he remembered it now. He knew it very well but sometimes it just slipped his mind when his panic curled around his eyes like a blindfold. But grounding was good.

If there was one thing Virgil has learned in all these years, then it was that one panic attach easily paved the way for another. It was important to ground yourself even afterwards and just make sure that you were really safe and back in reality. It was too easy to jump from one into another spell of dissociation.

Dee’s hand carefully pushed its back against the side of his hand and he took the invitation with delight.

“You are here, you are safe. I promise you are safe with me.”

Virgil nodded.

“I fucked up, though.”

Declyn shook her head.

“Oh, why would you say that. It was a silly misunderstanding.”

Virgil scoffed.

“A good enough one to set me off”, he shot back dryly and cleared his throat. His voice felt a bit raspy and his words felt like torture to him. The emo dragged every last breath out of himself. ”Uh, not what I meant, anyway.”

He carefully gestured to his right arm and sighed. Sometimes it felt as if he was the only one to really mess up his life. It was not on others but it was on him. Well, not that he would let himself think into that at this moment. He knew better than to do this kind of foolish thing.

“Aw, don’t be dramatic! We can fix this. Let me see.”

She extended her arm and Virgil rolled his eyes in return but willingly rolled up his sleep to reveal a bunch of colourful marks along with dark streaks. The curves and swings formed words and letters, they were strings putting it all together and forming a big arrow and meanings more than just a literal one.

“I know you pressed on it a lot but it seems fine. Come on, let us get out before the others get worried. You can keep an eye on it, so nothing happens. If you are worried, you can go to the parlour and tell them what happened.”

Virgil shook his at Dee carefully pulled the sleeve back over the tattoo. It was covered by a thin foil that almost reminded him of stickers. When his arm was in certain positions, it would wrinkle up a bit but it was solid. It was there to protect him and his new little treasure.

He hummed.

“I’m sorry.”

Declyn already got up and straighten out her clothes before she leaned down to offer Virgil a hand. He gladly accepted and got up with a bit of help from a supportive wall and his wonderful friend.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetie Vee, I know you are trying.”

The smaller man looked down at his socks and curled and uncurled his toes once more.

“I um”, he started but stopped himself again. Words were so hard. His were just trying to put things into movement he did not know to put into any phrase. It was a wild chase for sense in an intense situation.

“I..it got a bit dumb again and I was worried and had shitty dreams and such.”

Virgil shrugged it off, his head rolling over the side of his shoulder and leaning on it. His tongue pushed against his gums. Words... words...

“uhh.. I will try talking about it next time, okay?”

For a moment, Dee’s face was unreadable. Her lips were moving from side to side. Just a bit, merely more than a twitch. It felt like she was playing with the words, weighing them against one another to construct the perfect sentence as she tasted the flavour of his syllables.

“Okay. Please, try. I do not want to hurt you, Vee. I hope you know this.”

The other blinked up for a moment before casting his glance down again, just for a bit. Only to look up at her and into her eyes with a determination in hi face.

“I-I am safe with you .”

She nodded and carefully stretched out her arms halfway, they looked awkward at that angle but not quite as awkward as fully stretched out arms would be. Well, there was nothing odd or wrong if he just so happened to take another step and walk right into her literally open arms and just let himself be engulfed.

“You are. I am not like them, okay? I don’t want to hurt you, Virgil. I would never want to cause you any harm. I just asked because I am concerned for you. I know you have been so much worse last year.”

She did not want him to go back to that. ...Maybe Declyn did not say it but the sigh that followed her words spoke more hours of audio books could fill.

“Mh... you are so much better”, Virgil argued and carefully nudged her. “We should still go. I have no idea whether they are politely waiting for us or if they are actually taking that look to make some fucking eggs.”

Dee rolled her eyes this time and leaned back a bit, her eyebrows narrowing as she eyed the smaller individual before her. Her heart was filled with warmth.

The two started moving towards the door to exit the room. Virgil hooked one of his arms around his love and nudged his Dee with his head. She was a bit shorter than guys were on average but it was enough for Virgil to reach her shoulder only. His face buried itself a bit in her loving chest as they walked on.

“You really are the best”, Virgil reiterated, his words muffled by the fabric of Dee’s clothing.

“I am still sorry for not talking. Will do better.”

She smiled.

“Go to therapy or you can party alone next week”

Virgil snorted at that. Nobody else would be that dry and just shoot back with an answer like that. Dee was his sunshine, his hope on a fiery tongue. Did she ever do as expected?

Virgil squeezed her into a hug.

“I will.”

“I know.”

Steps outside could be heard and a loud Roman seemed to announce something. It was obviously his boisterous voice but his exact words were swallowed my the door between the two lovebirds and the three friends outside. They were in completely over worlds, different events and feelings holding them together and building up a unique scene of feelings and mutual understanding.

“And I love you, Dee”

She stopped for a moment and let herself look back at her joyful friend.

“You know I do love you too, Virgil. I love you with all my heart.”

Her gorgeous arms would around him and drew him in for a deep hug. Limbs and hearts joined in and let the hymns of the outside just disappear for a little longer. The panic was gone, Roman was forgotten. And if it was not for eggs to have a strong smell, even the meal would probably be fully wiped from their minds but the savoury sensation got to them, got to the bathroom like a sneaky snitch.

The emo took another deep breath, simply inhaling the warmth and love he was willingly provided without trick or secret conditions. It was a mutuality, a natural exchange between them. Constant, equal, balanced.

“Mhmm... the eggs smell good~”

“They better do because you really need to devour some food right the fuck now, my love.”

Virgil unlocked the door and opened it for them to get back into the happenings of this home. Once back into the kitchen, they could hear whatever had been up with Roman before.

The man had grabbed a roll of wrapping paper and pointed it at Logan, Patton in his arms and giggling in his giant demeanour of being ridiculously tall for a person that was a human being. “I demand it one last time, foul creature, hand back the princess!”

Logan blinked at Roman, lightly.. out of place. He looked a bit as if he had been dragged onto stage and he did not know the words to the scene and everyone was staring at him. The glassgreen-eyed man was still giggling in fits while hugging Logan close in a squeaky joy of childish delight.

Before Virgil even got to ask about what was going on, Dee caught on to this and put the back of her hand up to her forehead and let out a sigh, dramatic enough to put Shakespeare into a position of envy.

“Someone stop this violence and bloodshed! This is insanity” Her voice dropped from full and proud to thin, it was about as thin as the patience of a person in an emergency situation.

Roman had to be proud. His eyes sure seemed to sparkle with something undefinable at this moment.

“Please, this beast and I have taken to end this situation. We mortals and the magical beings shall make peace and live in harmony!”

Beast? He was a beast now?

”Hey!”

“Honey, you literally are a small demon.”

“...you are more demonic than I could ever make out to be, Dee”, he pouted in response and let his arms cross over his chest. “Whatever, let’s fucking end a war and shit.”

The princess giggled again. “Yeah, Roman! The dragon makes for really great cuddles! He hugged Logan as if to emphasise just how huggable he was! And huggability was a direct indicator of kindness and peacefulness. Which, again, showed just how low the level of likelihood to ”take-over-the-kingdom-and-enslave-humanity” was. ...At least in case of Logan.

Roman looked at the sudden turn of events, he admitted the twist but would he admit defeat? He might have been wrong, he might have been biased by his own stance as a human being, himself. What if he did? His doubts lowered his weapon and in the moment of vulnerability, his determination faded and Declyn was quick to snatch up a nearby roll herself an smack Roman’s sword out of his hands!

A huge gasp followed the betrayal and Patton sucked in a sharp breath. This blew, this hit so deep.

Virgil already caught the falling weapon and flash-stepped back into his partner’s circle.

“Roman, I challenge you. You are guilty for evoking hostility between the fantastic and simple beings, you are the villain to tilt the balance!”

She pointed her sword at the prince, who was still mourning over the loss of his own shiny weapon. Meanwhile, Declyn’s rich voice was back to the usual strength of a proud man and she stole all of Roman’s determination from him to enrich herself with this resource.

“No, how could you! You disarmed me in my own battle!”, the prince retorted in indignation. Hot feelings flooded his body. His eyes wandered from Declyn to her partner. “And you took my beautifully manicured sword!”

Virgil shrugged at that, his mouth twitching into a lazy corner for a lopsided-grin. ...and then he blew really mature raspberries at him. "Suck up, Princey. War sucks and only the higher-ups seek battle rather than conversation." His voice sounded so excited, it was amazing he did not jump out of his socks with all the energy circulating within him. Clearly impressive. Dee let her hand travel down to Virgil’s grip on the sword he had taken to be his. He had stripped Roman of his word, off his sword. There was barely any left to the pride of this man.

“I love you my dear but I feel we need to take a less violent approach.” She gently squeezed Virgil’s hands and he slowly lowered his sword, eyes sparkling red warnings at Roman who still stood there, frozen and perplexed at how the game has changed in under a minute. Much to his disadvantage.

Logan cut in, for the first time.

”I believe we need to call for equality in this mater. Violence has brought this terrible situation upon us and has made love illegal to us simple beings.”

His words were clearer than glass, they felt cold but in a refreshing manner. Like stepping into the water underneath the frozen surface of a natural lake. It was everywhere and it ran deep into Virgil, dripping slowly yet flooding his mind with meaning in less than a moment. There was an intent behind Logan’s words.

“Equality? You don’t mean some shit like going back on how it used to be, right?”

Roman scoffed at them.

“Equality? You are my subjects and your words are an incredulous audacity to my work and status!”

Virgil glared at the prince. There was enough feeling to burn down the parliament in these eyes. They were dark like the night of mischief in which any resistance group would rise up to revolt against the state as it was. To change everything radically and drastically without warning, without open ears.

“One of us”, Virgil prompted and Roman’s eyes grew wide. Could he taste the disgust for being just as valuable as any other life? “One of us! Yes, Roman!”, Patton cheered happily. His cheeks went wide and he held out his hand to let Roman in.

He invited him.

“I might love a dragon but all in all, I just love his heart. We all have a heart.”

Dee cleared her throat.

“As a vampire, I kind of do not but go on, dearest companion.”

Virgil nudged her to lower her sword which she had pointed at Roman, still. She slowly blinked at the man and arched an eyebrow at the royal. expecting something.

“This is a riot”, Roman started but his words dried up in his throat and he had to clear it, granting himself another moment of pause to consider his words. “You want to abolish the royal family in this land but can you dethrone all royals in this world?”

Virgil dropped the beautiful and freshly manicured sword, still keeping his intense gaze fixed on the struggling prince. The weapon fell down in tragedy, the metal making a clattering sound. (It was a paper roll still, it just made a dull sounds but this was a fantasy world we were improvising here) A quick kick let the sword cry out in abandonment, in rage and frustration.

In war.

“Maybe we cannot but love surely can. And we will try.”

Dee dropped her roll as well and stretched out her free hand to invite Roman as well. Logan joined, extending his long arm to welcome Roman into the life of a common person, the life of struggle and family, the life of everyone. The prince still seemed torn, one foot closer to the group of unusual lovers and one closer to the kitchen unit and the cooling dinner eggs.

“You do not have to be afraid, Roman. You will be respected as a person, not for a crown.”

The prince looked to the side and picked up a small package of big loops.

“I want us to have rings together. I will give up my crown to step down as a royal but I want us to have a new bond. If you want to fight for what you believe is right, then I want to take a part in doing good deed and strive for a betterment of our world.”

Patton squealed and hopped up, nearly shaking the apartment with his powerful hop. He immediately dashed forward to embrace his friend, happy sounds and extensive praise leaving his mouth as he pressed their bodies together and told him about how he was proud of his insight. Logan was dragged along and nobody could deny the obvious smile that turned his usususally rather spacey or stone-cold face into a sweet mask of affection. He still insisted on holding out his hand but this time, he invited a beast and a heartless creature.

They all cheered to getting their respective share of fruit loops and everyone got milk (dairy free or regular cow’s milk). “I declare us to be companions to defy laws and rules for the sake of love and true love only!”, Roman started and held up his cup, raising it a bit for everyone to see and the others mimicked the motion.

“To love!”, the former prince invited. “To our union”, Patton added. “To relationships”, Dee offered and Virgil followed “to the revolution” with a cheeky grin. Logan blinked. “To true love”

Their cups made sounds as they all clashed together in a weird traditional way.

“Anyway, food is getting cold but this was fun, friends!”

Roman whined.

“Patton, you ruined the sceeeene”

His emphasis on the last word was obvious with how much he drew out the syllable. A loud crunching sound drew more attention to itself than Roman to his words with how much he bastardised the pronunciation of certain words in his dramatic flair.

“What? It’s fruit loops and I am hungry”, Virgil mumbled between his broken pieces of a green loop. It was sweet and artificial but he could bet he was already addicted. If he was a kid, he would bet he could see rainbows upon consuming this.

“Yes, Virgil is right. We united a fictional world so now we should assemble to eat at last”

“Thanks, Log”

They finally settled around the table, Virgil and Patton bringing the food over because he kept insisting it was the least he could do for sleeping through cooking. That was a lie. Patton probably knew it. The way Patton smiled at him with his glass green bottle eyes just let him know that he knew. He must have heard the door or seen them sneak over.

He was too scared of sounding weird if he asked how it took them this long to finish eggs but when Logan rolled his eyes and blamed Patton for starting “this ridiculous scene in the first place”, he blinked at the giant. They both knew. Virgil smiled and signed a quick thanks before returning to the table to lay it with food and others.

“Virgil, why do you call Logan ‘Log’?”

Patton glanced over Roman and Virgil for a moment as the latter sat down next to Declyn. She moved her arm under the table but did not put it on the table either. The emo simply fidgeted a bit in his seat, all limbs moving a bit as he adjusted on his chair.

“Uh, because I do?”

Weak answer. He gave it a shrug to emphasise the point. Roman arched an eyebrow at him, his features looking oddly wrinkled in a reaction he did not want to provoke. His gaze seemed distant yet so fixed on him and there was interest burning within him.

“Yes, but how did you come up with it? Is there some kind of story? It sure is a special nickname and I wish to be enlightened.”

Dee chuckled, curled up lips hidden behind a dark hand. The back of it was all the others could see instead.

“Do you feel in the right mood to enlighten the advocate of dragons?”

Virgil shook his head. It was his turn to giggle and he hid his full face in his hands. Declyn retreated her hand and looked at him, her lips still forming a smile of fine amusement. It was the mere ghost of a smile but it was warm and gentle when she observed the little wrinkles that formed around Virgil’s mouth. She could mentally see his nose scrunch up despite it being hidden behind his hands.

“Come on, Virgil, implore the idea of expanding Roman’s horizon with the precious knowledge of your nickname-giving abilities.”

Virgil giggled harder, his sleeves flailing for a bit as he adjusted his hands and rubbed them deeper into his face. His head was nothing but black and purple hair as well black jacket with single neon stripes on each side.

“I- “, he started, words breathless and useless. They were barely audible. Not to mention how torn and incomplete the one tone itself sounded already. He took a deep break and cleared his throat. One last giggle took him back and Logan brushed through his hair. “Dee, stop, I will talk just stop already”

He whined, drawing out the last ‘stop’ as he pushed his sleeves against Dee’s lap for dramatic effect to his words.

“It is just a joke about logarithms because when I met Logan, he was literally reading a book about numbers.”

Roman blinked.

“That does sound an awful lot like our teacher”

Virgil nodded, his head going up and down at an amazing speed. Dee gently squeezed his thigh and caused the other to curl up in his seat and take her hand.

“Needless to say I do not approve of the name. I did not do it back then, to clarify, but I do not approve any more of it by now, either.”

Virgil blew raspberries at Logan but because English was not exactly his best subject and he did not grow into it, he would call this action “farting at someone”. Logan gave him a look but even his glasses on his nose looked delighted.

”You are such an adult, Virgil.”

Patton let out a soft “aww” but did not do anymore but start to give everyone some food as silent indicator that they once had a plan.

Roman blinked.

“Wait, you are an adult?”

Virgil’s brows knitted together into a frown. Apprehension and the disability to understand the other sketched the features of his face into a near-neutral mask.

“Of course I am. I sign contracts and leave countries without parents, learn how to drive. I do all the adulting things. I work with Logan. You should know I am an adult.”

Words burned on his tongues. His sentence turned more and more sour with each word he spilled.

His therapist said it was bad.

Roman shrugged.

“Chillax a bit, Charlie Frown. I did not know that. I thought you lived here because you could not get your own place.”

Declyn dropped her fork, letting it crash onto her plate with a shattering sound against the tensed silence between them.

“I am moving out, like, next month. I got a place to go to. I pay bills here. What is your problem?”

Dee nudged him. He sighed in reply and Roman shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“I did not mean it like that, I-”

Logan cleared his throat as Patton reached out to brush over Roman’s arm. His whole posture was straightening out for the fight already. He was a true knight. Always ready to jump into whatever battle he could feel coming up.

“I will be out of your hair soon. I am gonna be busy working anyway so you won’t see me. Don’t worry. Soon enough it will be like I have never existed in your world at all.”

Something marvellous fell from Roman’s face. For a moment, the gleam of an aspiring prince was gone. Virgil’s words had drawn something essential out of him. He just was not sure what i was but it left him feel.. acutely incomplete.

At the same time, Patton was drawing patterns into Roman’s arm and singing melodies of truth and peace with his thoughtful hums.

“Dee, when did you meet Virgil? I never thought you two would meet, considering you are done with your studies already.”

Dee’s fingers were entangled with Virgil’s under the table and they conversed without words. Nostalgia tuned the sound of her words when she decided to speak up after cleaning her mouth with a napkin.

“We have met about one year ago. It was not quite Christmas, though.”

Patton nodded, a smile prompting her to go on as Virgil pushed his plate away and leaned into his chair instead.

Dee squeezed his hand.

“I met her when I was out. She did not want me walking around all on my own because it was late and I was alone.” He shrugged as if all of these words did not matter. His tongue whipped out vocalisations as if they were the laws every person had to abide to. “She brought me home - someone else was with us because I talked to them and they did not trust each other to be nice to me. We fell asleep together and I got her number. That was about it.”

The giant’s lips rubbed against one another. He was tasting the lies of omission in his mouth and mused the value of his deception. He had a knife like a sword and a fork like scaled of justice in his hands and his strangeness was his blindfold.

“That was quite the coincidence, was it not?”

Virgil shrugged.

“Life has always been full of weird events and unlikely happenings, has it not?”

Logan nodded.

“It sure was.”

They ended their meal on this note. Neither the sustenance nor the conversation really had been worth it.

[virgilmydarkstrangeson]

Trying to Survive: Chapter 33

A/N: We’re here! Chapter 33, the final chapter, and it’s taken us so long to actually get here, you guys have no idea how much I worked on this to make it an appropriate ending. Thank you everybody for supporting me as I wrote this story over the course of a year and a month, and I hope you’ll read my other stories that will be coming out soon! Love you all!!!

Summary: Virgil just wants to live as himself. There are bumps in the road, but hey, life isn’t easy. Pairing: Analogical Trigger Warnings: Anxiety, panic attacks, very brief mention of transphobia, mentions of top surgery, brief mention of a super sympathetic Deceit like literally one name mention, gay crying, if you see anything else please tell me!! Word Count: 2,049

~~~

Virgil was stood, looking into the mirror as he smoothed down his shirt, his hands shaking ever so slightly. It had been nearly three years to the day now since he had gotten top surgery, yet it still felt so strange to have a flat chest, to not need his binder anymore. He was looking into the mirror, and looking back was him, nobody but himself, and it was incredible. It also allowed him something to focus on to calm his nerves, as his stomach was in a tight knot.

There was a soft knock on the door before it creaked open and Patton poked his head inside of the room.

“Hey kiddo, how you doing?” Virgil saw Patton’s concerned look in the mirror, and let out the breath he didn’t realise he had been holding as he turned to face him.

“Nervous, extremely.” Patton pulled Virgil into a tight hug, seeming to not care about messing up Virgil’s clothing. “What if I mess up, Pat? Everyone will be watching me…” Patton pulled away then, holding onto Virgil’s shoulders as he looked him in the eyes.

“Hey, you’re going to do great, you’ve been practising for months now, and even if you do mess up it’s not like anyone’s going to know.” Virgil sighed and looked away, chewing on his lip. “You’ll be fine, Virg, honest. Once you get out there, you’ll forget all about your worries.”

“I hope you’re right…” Virgil sighed again, taking one last look in the mirror and smoothing his shirt down again before taking a deep breath. “Okay, I’m ready.”

As soon as they walked out, they were greeted by Virgil’s dad, who smiled widely at seeing them.

“You look great, son. Are you ready to go?” Virgil simply nodded, not used to his hair not falling into his eyes as the still-purple mess had been slicked back and styled for the day. Patton nearly squealed as he had started to bounce in place.

“Pat you look more excited than me,” Virgil let out a small laugh as he spoke, only half-joking, as he was still extremely nervous. “Let’s just go before I actually have a panic attack, okay?” Virgil linked arms with his dad and began walking, with Patton walking only a few paces behind them.

The sky was completely clear of clouds as they slowly walked down the concrete path, and despite the time of year, the sun shone warm, bathing everything in a bright glow. Music was starting to reach Virgil’s ears now, and in a few steps they were there, and Virgil had to swallow down the growing anxiety.

As everyone stood up, Virgil noticed just how many people there were, all looking at him with various expressions. Virgil noticed a lot of Logan’s siblings and cousins who he had finally met last year around Christmastime, including Logan’s teenage sister Olivia, who was wearing a bright purple dress, as well as a lot of people who Virgil had never seen in his life but could only assume were more of Logan’s relatives and friends. The worry of what they might think about Virgil having literally nobody on his side only melted away when they reached the aisle and Virgil saw Logan.

Logan was wearing a suit in the same style as Virgil’s own; three-piece, all black with the only colour being his tie, which was a rich, velvet purple, and the pocket square in his breast pocket which was space themed, and matched the one Virgil had in his own pocket. Virgil’s tie, however, was a deep blue, and instead matched up with the boutonniere attached to Logan’s lapel, which was a rose dyed the same shade of blue, much like the rose on Virgil’s lapel that was dyed the same purple as Logan’s tie. Virgil locked eyes with Logan, silver meeting blue, and he noticed how Logan’s hair was also styled up away from his face, he had grown it longer recently.

While Virgil had been taking in how handsome Logan looked, he and his dad had made it up to the altar, and then it was just him and Logan, while everyone else sat down, save for Roman and Patton, who was the officiator and best man respectively, Patton refused to choose a side. From this point on, most of the ceremony was a blur for Virgil, save for the vows, which became one of those memories that would never leave Virgil for as long as he was alive.

"Logan,” Virgil began, trying to somewhat regulate his breathing and also imagine that possibly a hundred pairs of eyes were not actually staring at him. “We may have met by chance, but you have changed my life forever. You accepted me when hardly anyone else would, and you related to me in ways that nobody else has ever done. We both love space, and we've never had an awkward silence, and these, as well as many other reasons, made me realise how good you are for me. You changed me, for the better. And now I can't even imagine my life without you." Virgil never once broke eye contact as he spoke, finding comfort in those blue eyes, and noticed that Logan’s eyes were becoming slightly glassy, while his own vision blurred for a moment before he tried to blink it away. Great, they were both about to cry at their own wedding. "Virgil,” Logan’s voice cracked ever so slightly that Virgil was sure he was the only one who caught it, and he couldn’t help but smile slightly knowing he wasn’t the only nervous one. “When we met I wasn't looking for any sort of relationship, but you changed that. You had a fire in your eyes I hadn't seen in many people, and your differences never once deterred me. You're passionate about so many things and brought a new spark to my life, you made me realise that sometimes, real experiences are so much better than anything fictional. And now I can't even imagine my life without you." That line, it was what they had chosen to connect whatever else they were going to say. Virgil could clearly remember the night he thought of it, just lying in bed while Logan was at the desk, the only sound being the latter grading papers. It was when he realised just how much Logan had changed his life around.

Roman cleared his throat after the rings had been exchanged, Virgil’s was a thin, white gold band while Logan’s was a more traditional golden colour, and Roman was obviously trying and failing to contain his own smile as he spoke next.

“Then, if nobody has any objections,” Roman paused, both for dramatic effect and to see if anybody would object like there was anybody in the vicinity who wasn’t bursting from happiness, before continuing. “I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss the groom!” In the corner of his eye, Virgil thought he saw Logan’s mother grimace slightly, but that didn’t matter to him at that moment, as he was giving Logan a small, warm smile and then they were kissing, only lightly, lips barely brushing together as a cascade of applause hit his ears, muffled to Virgil as his focus was fully on Logan, even as they pulled apart and were just smiling at each other.

The pictures were taken not too far away, in front of a large flower bed filled with a huge array of flowers in every colour of the rainbow. Unsurprisingly, Patton begged to be in every photo that he possibly could, even getting into a tiny argument with the photographer, Dee, over whether Patton counted as Virgil’s family, but it was lighthearted, and Patton still got to cling to Virgil’s free arm in every photo he was in, smile brighter than the sun.

After all the photos had been taken, it was a short drive to the hall that the reception was being held, as well as the buffet that Logan and Virgil had decided to have instead of a sit-down meal. That way, everyone could eat whatever they liked. However, before anyone could eat, Roman insisted that they have a ‘first dance’ together as a married couple.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm proud to present for the first time, Mr and Mr Sanders!" Roman's booming voice was even louder than usual thanks to him finagling a microphone from the DJ, and that was Logan and Virgil's cue, to walk into the large hall decorated with blue and purple balloons and streamers, hand in hand, both unable to contain their smiles. The DJ turned on the music Virgil had picked out, a song he himself had written and recorded only a few months ago, and then Logan led Virgil to the middle of the dance floor, and they began a simple, swaying dance. "You know that your vows were almost cheesy, right?" Virgil whispered when the music was loud enough to drown out his voice to everyone else. Logan seemed to chuckle, his arms around Virgil's waist tightening ever so slightly.

“That is the nature of writing romantic things, you know.” Logan's voice was right by Virgil’s ear as he spoke, Virgil had invested in a pair of insoles to give him a couple of extra inches to his height, meaning he was now only two inches shorter than Logan, give or take. “I don’t think I’ve ever fully seen your forehead before.” The statement was so random that it caused Virgil to almost laugh before he disguised it as a cough.

“Not what I expected to hear as we’re dancing on our wedding day, L, but okay,” Virgil smiled, and Logan scoffed a bit, his face burning slightly. He was still smiling, however.

“I was going to say that your hairstyle suits you, you should wear it up more often. You didn’t let me finish.” This only furthered Virgil’s laughter, which caused Logan’s smile to grow as well. “You’re insufferable sometimes.”

“You’re the one who married me,” Virgil retorted as the music faded out and a more lively song replaced the gentle guitar strings, and other people began to trickle onto the dance floor.

A few hours of dancing and food and people constantly congratulating Virgil and Logan on getting married, and then they were off for their honeymoon. Virgil had changed into a black and white plaid button-up with a purple shirt underneath, as well as his trademark skinny jeans, while Logan was wearing the black shirt from his suit and a dark blue blazer. They had packed beforehand, and the suitcases were in Logan’s car already, so they said quick goodbyes before getting in, and then they were really off.

Another few hours, and Virgil was humming to himself as he stared out of the window, watching the dark silhouettes of the scenery outside fly past. Logan was driving, his eyes fixed on the road, however, Virgil couldn’t help but lay his hand on the hand Logan was resting on the gearstick.

“I hope you’re not trying to distract me,” Logan glanced in Virgil’s direction momentarily, and there was no dissatisfaction in his eyes. “I’d prefer to reach the resort.”

“I know,” Virgil replied, smiling even though he knew Logan wouldn’t be able to properly see it. “It’s hard to believe we’re actually married, it seems like we’ve been talking about it for ages.”

“I know what you mean, our lives have taken drastic turns since we met,” Virgil’s focus shifted to the ring on his finger as he thought about what to say next.

“All because I met a space nerd who accepts me for who I am.”

“And I met a ‘space nerd’ who was unafraid to be himself.” Logan parked the car and turned to look properly at Virgil, hands actually intertwining. “You’re incredibly brave, Virgil. Incredible doesn’t even begin to describe you.” Virgil felt heat rush to his face, however, he wasn’t as flustered as he would’ve been a couple of years ago.

“You’re pretty incredible yourself, L,” Virgil’s voice had dropped to a near whisper, and the pair leaned in for one sweet, quick kiss before getting out and grabbing their suitcases, ready for a beachside honeymoon to kickstart their new, married, happy life together.

~~~

TtS Taglist: @exquisitestardust @romanamongthestars @alltimevirgilant @coffee-spice @faacethefacts @ten-cent-thoughts @a-whole-lot-of-screaming @roboticpenmanship @samuelcwboslyn @sylveon-lover-crazyfangirl1415 @louvrejpeg @allycat31415 @aquilacalvitium @midnightalex12 @sinful-stars @princeanxious @randomperson0055 @snowcherri @individual-charlie @certifiedfangirlluna @lowkeyvirgilobsessed @cdragontogacotar @enderperson43 @your-username-is-unavailable @awkward-avocado-of-death @lesliealiceinwonderland @mewmewmika @whatcanisay-imafan-der @dorkanddrearykay @kingalexdreaming @queerly-anxious @logically-emotional @illogical-anxieties @hamster-corn @canadian-crofters @astraastro @ab-artist @raygelkitty @featuredfander @confinesofpersonalknowledge @kameraishere @starry-eyed-haiku-dreamer @secretlyanxiouspersona @cjcipher234 @booksandpages @thestoryofme13 @kri-marie-b-the-nb @hissesssss @they-call-me-anxiety @the-literal-fae @ravenclawunicorn1 @crownswriter123 @avvkvvardmermaid @never-the-maknae @dannerism @nightmareelmst @infinitysgrace @strongindependentcheesecake @caffeinated-casper @lucifer-in-my-head @theresneverenoughfandoms @pixiedylan @no-life-no-problem @periwinklewinter @edgykatdoesthething @aleicim @soft-boy-patton @jazensnothuman456 @band-be-boss-blog @sanders-s1des-blog @quietwords-loudthoughts @potassium-over-dose @derp-a-la-sheep @imbasicallypunklogan @theitalianalchemist @meep-meep-motherfucker @emily-in-wonderland @a-little-bit-of-ace @pastelprinceofthestars @hemooryctolagus @kiwisandsprinkles @unikornavenger @shadowsfromthesun @lotusthatexists @echomist13 @sopi-montezzz @noahlovescoffee @a-fander-named-skittles @kitthepan @podcastsandcoffee @sherlock-lives-on-bakerstreet @everyday-emo-stuff @jadekitten1 @singingjo @anxiouslogan24 @thecripplingloneliness @youridisfake @squishyturtle44 @luckybanana948 @peanut0303 @fuck-spock @sombraplayslazertag @justasadchildwithablog @a-heartbroken-patton @theunoriginaldaisy @onesmolegg @euphoni-um-no @flamingfawkes @lunalikesgamesandstuff @hitsmetheultimatetrash @why-would-i-tell-youu2 @anxiousvirgilsanderss @grey-lysander @megamysticmermaid @introverted-happiness @max-is-tired @lizziepopanime @wowimsogoddamnoriginal 

[circe-poetica]

30.Whirling Goddess

Whirling Goddess, from the RUMI Oracle Card deck, by Alana Fairchild, artwork by Rassouli

“Lose your head! Not a single thread that has a head can go through the eye of the needle.” ~ RUMI

“Come, my love, are you dizzy yet? If you can still find your feet then that is okay with me, but if you can still find your head then I will take issue! There is a great dance, but it cannot be danced with choreographed steps. No, this great dance demands a response rather than an initiation, a reaction rather than a direction. So let us dissemble and lose our heads to the great music, the rhythm held stead in our beating hearts. Our feet shall be moving whilst our minds, inadequate to the task, take the night off.”

“There is somewhere you are meant to be. It is here, now, in this moment. There is a gift right under your nose, and fragrant wine in your glass, gleaming red as the most precious rubies. To be here, now, you must pass through the keyhole. But your head will tell you this is not possible unless the door is unlocked, even though your body is passing through the keyhole of that locked door into the endless world beyond. Leave your mind to be in its struggles for a moment. Without you laying witness to it, your ind will become like the dog howling for his master’s return, even as he steps out the front door. Frustrated temporarily, he will chew on some shoes, then fall asleep peacefully until his master returns. So leave your mind trusting, chewing a little, until you are truly through the keyhole when it can rest. Leave it be; instead, come dance with me.

This oracle brings you a message. You are at the point of growth where your mind can hold you back rather than urge you forward. If you have, like so many used your mind to support you, to sure up your sense of self in the world and to gain a sense of certainty about how the world works, then this is no easy leap! It will seem as though you are beings asked to pass through the keyhole. Of course, you  mind will stop and argue for all the reasons why the door should be opened instead of remaining closed, making the task seem so much harder than it needs to be, but this is the mind in resistance. Don’t place too much stock in the claims that life should be other than it is. You are being asked to dance, rather than understand, o lay the thoughts to rest and to come alive. It is the bravest, most trusting soul that dares put the mind to one side and say, “Tonight we dance, my heart and I, in the great rousing music of the beloved’s beating heart – and I will not miss one step.” And to awaken the next day and do it all over again – and again, and again.

You are ready, you see, sweet soul dancer. You are ready to live beyond what you know, to have it not matter if you don’t understand how life can work itself out, or how it could be that someone so normal and ordinary as you and I could also be so magnificent, wild and divine. The need for answers and plans, assurances and explanations, is passing out of your world now. You are not to wait for permission, for explanation, or even for another dance partner, for I am already inviting you on to the great dance floor. You are to let go of any stigma around not knowing. When someone asks you what you are going to do next, or how you are going to manage, you are given this divine mandate – with relish, reveal the truth: “I do not know!”

Know nothing and dance sweet soul, for all will unveil itself to you in perfect harmony and timing. Your heart shall create the steps in response to the music of the spheres, happening now, alive and spontaneous, and free.

This oracle brings you a special message. If there is an issue, apparently unsolvable or unknowable, in your life now, the Divine is handling it. The Divine is in the middle of it, working through the knot and unraveling it. Fear not; do the sacred ritual, and give yourself permission to take the night off from worry. Repeat this heavenly prescription daily as needed.”

Sacred Honouring Ritual: “Say aloud: “I give my heart permission to lead this dance. I give my mind some time off – no more worry or doubt, planning or resisting. Instead, I surrender. Instead, I open. Instead, I allow, I allow, I allow. And all unfolds with perfection, divine timing and the miracle of grace. With Rumi as my soul witness, so be it.”

You have completed your honouring ritual.”*

~ By Alana Fairchild

And here we have another message of faith. Lose the mind for a night. As Doreen Virtue would say: “Let go and let God.” Stop the worry, the doubt, the fear. Stop fretting and just surrender. Know that you are being assisted. Know that the outcome will be all the better for you stepping away for just a little while. Focus on something else and give your mind a break as things are worked on behind the scenes. Dare to shift your focus completely… even have a little fun and take a break from the responsibilities just for a little while!

I tell my kids to blow their worries into imaginary balloons and release them to the Universe before they go to sleep at night. Anything that is rattling around in their heads, anything that might keep them awake. We have a whiteboard too, so that anything that needs to be accomplished tomorrow can be listed, then released for the evening. This is really helpful for those whose minds immediately fill with a loop of worries as soon as their exhausted heads hit the pillow. Send it off to the angels to sort out for you and ask to wake up with new ideas, solutions and clarity of mind to deal with whatever comes up.

This is also a message about breaking through the self-imposed limitations of the mind that we have been carrying all our lives. Those things that ‘stuck’ with us that others told us about ourselves that are simply not true but we choose to believe them; and  by doing so gave them some sort of twisted truth in our lives. It is about reforming our belief systems; about revamping how we see ourselves and what we are capable of.

It is about finding our joy. About leading with the heart and putting the mind on the back burner for a while while we experience a new freedom of creative expression.

Life is too short to have it any other way.

Namaste

Dee

https://archangeloracle.com/2017/10/22/whirling-goddess/

[brett-buckner-the-dirt]

The book mocked me for years.

From cramped college trailer, to slightly nicer college duplex to first apartment, it moved with me from place to place like the picture of an old girlfriend I still had feelings for. And just like that girlfriend, its story was unresolved, a fact made all the more glaring by the book marking poking out from around page 400 or so.

Ringo, my first puppy, made his opinion known by chewing up the corner when he found it tossed under the bed. I’ve held on to books for myriad stupid reasons – the cover looks cool (The Town that Forgot How to Breathe) or because its subject matter sounded interesting (everything by Karen Armstrong) or because simply having them on my bookshelf made me look smarter (Steinbeck’s East of Eden), but none openly mocked my inability or unwillingness to finish it quiet like this novel did.

I’m referring, of course, to Insomnia. It’s a novel that to me, looking back, signaled King’s dilution in terms of storytelling. Insomnia is a turning point that sent him down a path of mediocrity that he’s yet to fully recover from.

Insomnia is contentious among King fans because it neatly divides his so-called Constant Readers into two camps: Those who love the Dark Tower series and those who pretend the Dark Tower doesn’t exist. This is because Insomnia is rife with allusions to King’s epic fantasy series that was on its third installment with Wizard and Glass coming three years later in 1997.

I was in the latter category to the point of having never even heard of The Gunslinger et al. Insomnia may also have been the first seriously big novel I bought with my own money or maybe it was a Christmas present. I can’t really explain why I held on to it for so long. What I do know is that when I finally did pick it up again, this time determined to finish it in order to move on with my life, I was reminded of why I quit in the first place. My review of Insomnia then would be … “My God … go to sleep already!”

The jokes of the book itself being a cure for its title are too easy, but not wrong. For the smart readers who skipped this book, which is so heavy mobsters could tie it to the legs of informants before dumping them in the river, is about an old man who can’t sleep and starts seeming people auroras and the “little bald doctors” who snip the strings of those who die.

Yep. That’s Insomnia. Again, might have been a really cool short story NOT a 787-page novel, which, at the time was his third longest behind the uncut version of The Stand (1,153 pages) and IT (1,138) pages. Under the Dome would pass it in 2009 with (1,072).

So when I decided to revisit King this summer, Insomnia was top on my list for redemption. I thought perhaps the younger Brett simply didn’t have the patience or time to dedicate to appreciating such a book. And frankly, the old Brett doesn’t either, which is why I opted for the audible version. I’m a veteran of audio books and learned what books make for the best audio experience. It helps to already know the story, allowing me to focus more on the writing than where it would all end up.

What I did not account for was Stephen King serving as the narrator, something he should never, ever do, and yet does on some of his longest novels – Insomnia, Desperation, and Needful Things. If you’ve never heard King speak, whenever he says words with the letter “L” it sounds as if he’s got peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth.

Obviously, it’s the narrator who can make or break an audible edition and a good narrator truly can bring a book to life. The worst thing a narrator can do is be a distraction, which is exactly what King becomes during the 25-hour-and 38-minute duration of Insomnia. I mean HELLO … there are a damn lot of L’s in the English language and King slogs through nearly every one of them at least twice.

The story itself was interesting mainly for the Dark Tower references, which I’m currently immersed in, but otherwise it just kept droning on and on and on. More so than any other novel, Insomnia just seems forced, as if King got bored midway through and, having no real plan, just tried to write his way out, but never really finds his way out of the woods.

He’s known to approach novels in one of two ways – either plotted or “unplotted.” With novels like 11-22-63 and Green Mile, King started out knowing where he wanted to go and what he wanted to accomplish. And while the length of these novels can get out of hand, the story itself remains concise as the characters move toward a final revelation or conflict. The Dark Half is a pretty good example of this, as is Misery. But those that are unplanned, where even King doesn’t know where the story will end, can be nothing short of painful. We see this with Tommyknockers, especially, where the first half of the novel is excellent, but the rest just goes off the rails. Unfortunately, Insomnia can’t even boast of a good first half.

I started out caring very little for Ralph Roberts and by the book’s end I wished one of those little doctors would snip my balloon just to make the pain stop.

Carrie

This is King at his best. As with good punk bands, authors are usually at their best when they’re still young, hungry and pissed off at the world. Like Twisted Sister frontman Dee Snider once said, “It’s hard to write a song about starving in the streets from the pool of your million dollar mansion.”

I think the same goes for King. And while Carrie isn’t his best work, it really shows what a great character writer he would become. The novel that was famously saved from the trash – and thus possibly saving its author from a lifetime toiling in obscurity is brutal in its simplicity and feels remarkably timely given our current worries over bullying in school. Carrie also benefits from having an excellent film adaptation. And while the Brian DePalma version isn’t exactly like the book, it nails most of the high points.

Carrie is also written in a style that King goes back to only sparingly in that it’s told mostly through accounts in newspapers, magazines and academic journals with less first-persona narration. It can be a little disconnected feeling, but gives the story of poor Carrie White a greater sense of realism.

And what I enjoyed most about the novel that is sort of missed in the movie is that there are times when Carrie enjoys her newfound powers. She likes the way it makes her feel, knowing that is different and it starts to give her a sense of hope for an otherwise bleak future. She thinks there might actually be a way out, to escape the life of the small town freak, but then everything goes hellishly wrong, thus making pig’s blood and prom night forever synonymous.

Everything else

Seems that, like King, I’ve fallen in love with my own words. So let’s wrap this stuff up. I’ll write more on my Summer of King in the coming months or however long the hell it lasts when it’s necessary. I’m not halfway through the Dark Tower series and that deserves some blog space, though, to be honest, I’m still not sure if I like it or not, and in October, I’ll start the Stephen King movie marathon October 1.

But until then … here’s some other thoughts I scooped up along the way:

The Long Walk – one of my favorite King books. Originally published as a Richard Bachman book and one of the first novels he ever wrote, The Long Walk is remarkable in its ability to taken an insular event – that of 100 boys walking to their deaths, with the last one standing declared the “winner” – and making it a gripping story of survival, kindness and desperation.

Pet Semetary – famously the novel that supposedly scared King himself. It’s a whole lot of build up with little payoff. However, reading it as a father versus a teenager looking for a good scare, the loss of a child and the madness of grief somehow makes what happens a little easier to understand … a little.

Dark Half – Inspired by King being outed as Bachman, this novel has its merits, though not alongside some of King’s best. It does make one wonder where exactly all those story ideas come from.

I’ve got many novels to read and listen to, but what I’ve learned to appreciate most about King is how incredibly versatile he is. It seems impossible that the same man who wrote Cujo – so coked out he doesn’t even remember writing it – also wrote The Body. The same guy who wrote The Stand, is arguably at his best writing short stories.

Stephen King is the Neil Young of authors. Neil Young is rock icon who’s written some of the genres most defining albums. But the same artists who gave the world Harvest and After the Gold Rush, also wrote a concept album about a car (Chrome Dreams II). Same goes for King who gave the world IT AND Rose Madder.

As Constant Readers, we’re often disappointed, but that’s only because of how great King can be, which is what always keep us coming back for more.

‘Nuff said … for now.

  The Summer of King Part III: The Final Chapter (for Now) The book mocked me for years. From cramped college trailer, to slightly nicer college duplex to first apartment, it moved with me from place to place like the picture of an old girlfriend I still had feelings for.