#[[ time to return to the void & sink into drafts. ]]

[cultesdesghoules]

『•• ooc update ••』

allergies and work had me down for the count the past three days, so i worked on things behind-the-scenes so i wouldn't fall too far behind. (｡-｀へ´-｡) here's some minor updates:

new dp and mobile layout. desktop layout will be changed a bit later.

completely new carrd HERE. much less clutter!

plot wishlist moved HERE and ship bias moved HERE. both links have been added to my pinned post.

old threads from before my hiatus are still being moved to new posts due to the beta editor. (⌯⌅⌄⌅)

edit to add : my primary focus is on the aforementioned old threads atm, but i still welcome new interactions always.

[tunaafishyy]

Enkanomiya Enigmas - Part 1

A look into some of the strangest comments made by Enkanomiya’s residents

Note: this post is incomplete, I’m just starting the new year by clearing out some of my old drafts… maybe I’ll go back and fill these in better one day :)

Draft last updated 2022-12-26

In the Beginning…

Eboshi: Before Byakuyakoku fell into the deep sea, the whole world had a single unified culture.

Eboshi: Later, a great war broke out, in which the heavens capsized and the earth was ripped asunder. This land was then plunged into the dark ocean depths.

Eboshi: However, the heavenly order seemed to not wish for those who remembered all this to remain on earth. We searched for a road of return, but there was none to be found.

Eboshi: Much, much later, heaven’s powers of prohibition would gradually weaken. This did Watatsumi Omikami manage to fall into this place.

Out of Heaven’s Reach

Eboshi: They are primordial elemental beings, unbent and unbowed by the power that came from the heavens owing to their living deep underwater.

…

Eboshi: Watatsumi Omikami, due to ill-fortune, fell into this place, beyond the jurisdiction of the heavenly order.

Holy Soil Phenomenon

Eboshi: The Holy Soil phenomenon is, in fact, the expansion of their habitat. That means that the primordial elemental power of the three realms is growing stronger.

Eboshi: Only by using Watatsumi Omikami’s life force to awaken its second servant could we convert this raw, raging elemental power.

…

Tsumi: According to what I have read, the fundamental purpose of the Watatsumi Goryou Matsuri is to use the serpent god’s life force to awaken its second familiars: the Sangacorallia.

Tsumi: They are creatures that break down raw, primitive elemental energy into the milder elemental energy of the human realm. The giant coral is a symbol that the Sangacorallia have been awakened by the serpent’s blood.

…

Tsumi: Things are even more complicated than usual this time. The darkness from the Void Realm seems to be surpressunf things in the Light Realm and the Human Realm, causing them to come to a standstill.

Tsumi: You may need to use the power of the Bokuso Box to dispel the darkness and allow the ecological transformation to continue.

Orobashi’s Sacrifice

Eboshi: Unfortunately, by making contact with us, it also grasped a truth that came before it’s own existence. Thus, it was forced by heaven to sacrifice itself.

Eboshi: The truth behind this sacrifice had to remain unknown to all. Only this could the people of Byakuyakoku be allowed to live under the rule of The Seven.

Forgetting & Discovering the Truth

Eboshi: Due to the phenomenon known as Sinshades, the “past”, “history”, and “truth” of Enkanomiya would endure even if left to their own devices.

Eboshi: As such, a great effort was expended, not that we might remember but that we might “forget”. Lady Sangonomita was of this view.

Eboshi: The trial to obtain the branch was intended to limit the number of people coming after us who could know the whole truth of the matter.

Eboshi: As for me, I supported leaving records of the truth. As such, Watatsumi Omikami permitted me to add another trial path that, if passed, would lead to knowledge of our secrets.

Eboshi: “In the faintness of everlasting night, beyond the rushing of the river Styx, within the sinless flow of heavenly light.”

Eboshi: Release the seal on The Emanant Skylight. Then, you may ascend to the Gate of Heaven and access the site of the trial.

Vishaps

Eboshi: They are actually very intelligent, and they are adept at evolving. They would even evolve into different elemental forms throughout the history of their war against us.

Eboshi: I would not be surprised at all if they have learned language or perhaps even evolved into lizard-people of a sort.

The Traveler

The sinshade of Clymene, caretaker of the Sunchildren, recognizes the Traveler’s garb.

However, she then goes on to say that she was born in Enkanomiya (post-sinking) and that she’s never seen someone from outside of it.

For Clymene to have seen it, but to also never have left/met an outsider, implies that the Traveler’s Outfit existed in Enkanomiya.

She also makes a comment about not having seen it in awhile. This could be due to her either being a sinshade and not having perception of time, or the outfit being a carry-over from Enkanomiya’s society before it sank, and thus was as common post-sinking…

??? (Clymene): Hmm? How strange. I have not seen someone in your garb for a many long years…

??? (Clymene): From your mannerisms, you are not from Byakuyakoku either. Are you some guest from afar who fell into this place?

Traveler: That’s more or less correct…

??? (Clymene): To think that there were ways to access Byakuyakoku from the outside world… Shocking news indeed.

??? (Clymene): I was born here, and I have never seen anyone from the outside world.

Memories

Clymene: It has passed through the hands of every Sunchild, and the memories it has inherited are enough to fill the gaps in their souls.

Clymene: … Even though these memories are double-sided.

Traveler: Double-sided? Memories have sides?

Clymene: of course. In this case, the memories are two-fold. On one hand, you have your own memories, and on the other, you have others’ memories of you.

Clymene: Thus the gaps are being filled by both the Sunchildren’s own memories, imprinted upon the bridle… As well as the memories of them as the children who were blamed by Byakuyakoku, of those who became children of sin.

Clymene: my own memories are insufficient, and so I had to supplement them with those of the people of our nation.

Clymene: and it is thanks to these transgressions that have been laid upon them that they have now been remembered by Byakuyakoku, and can now leave their afterimages behind.

Clymene: Thank you, Traveler. My greatest wish now lies fulfilled. Yes, I… can finally be with those children again… I can finally… be at ease.

[arts-butthound]

Brother Antics drabble

I’ve been trying to work this piece into my fic for at least a year, year and a half, but I can never find where it fits best in this draft. But it’s too cute, too warm, to continue to sit in my Bits bin, so I’m putting it out here.

Written for my Mass Effect fic Sense and Salarian Ability, I throw at you “Tegan feels sad and goes to her older salarian brother for comfort.”

Tegan tried. She tried not to let the quiet set on top of her. Tried not to think on an adventure she wasn’t welcomed to. She went to the kitchen and began dishes- it’s nothing personal, Tegan- and got through half of them before her fingers wrinkled. This was normal. And it was fine. There were some schemes that her alien body would only draw attention to. She looked down at her hands, pink and pale, and wished they were any other color…or just had less fingers.

             Dull grey swam around her, dim lights lengthened her lonely shadow on the floor. Void black and easy to pretend it was anything else but hers. The red bled in from the windows. Outside light always screaming its existence when it wasn’t welcome. The light either too dull or too aggressive. The empty house creaked and moaned without its most prized tenant. It threatened to fall apart around everyone if Buun Tuna wasn’t there holding it up.

Quiet.

She stood in the hallway, waiting for something to happen.

But nothing did. The house remained standing even without most of its tenants.

The stairs creaked beneath her as she ascended, but down the hall, towards her room, felt so far away. So unwelcoming without Cetus there. So she walked only as far as Aelin and Vey’s door, listening for the sound of tools whirring or cranking, but there was nothing. Slowly she pushed the door open and peaked through. Aelin lay on his back on the bed, his breath steady and soft. Eyes closed. The red light that peaked passed the closed drapes melded into his red amphibian skin. Tegan entered, closing the door behind her and crossed the floor. Crawled up beside him and curled into the empty crook of his arm. Breathed in his familiar scent, and her mind was eased-if only slightly.

His hand shifted through her hair, slowly coming awake. She rubbed her face against him before resting on her side. She felt guilt for waking him, but grateful all the same. She rested her head in the hollow of his chest. His breathing softly shifted from sleep to waking underneath her ear, the weight of his arm comforting as it curled around her. Aelin slowly blinked as he came out of sleep. His eyes lacked focus, drooping still, as he came to see her from a far off place. “Hey, Petal.” The sound of a deep breath through his nose. “Wha’ time’s it?’

This kind of quiet…it was different from the lack of sound that had weighed down on her in the hall. Cold to warm. Sharp to rounded. Tegan listened to the fabric beneath her as she curled further into the crook of her brother’s hold. She rested her arm around his waist and locked them together. Listened to the hushed roar of muscles shifting under skin. His finger whispered across her brow and down the bridge of her nose. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’” She buried her face further into him. “Didn’t wanna wake you.”

The sound of a clock being lifted from the bedside table and set back down. “Mmm.” He hummed. “You sure?” He was already returning to the world of sleep, half way slipping back and only just grasping to wakefulness. Tegan nodded against him. His breathing began to sink towards resting once again.

Dust flitted in the air as tiny boats on a sea of light. “Aelin? Do you ever wish you weren’t a salarian?”

“Mmmnnoo?” Aelin yawned. “But then I can’t say I ever thought about it much.” He began to slowly peel his eyes open, looking at her through tired slits. “Do you sometimes wish I wasn’t a salarian?” His hand, the one not currently pinned under a small body with big eyes, began to scrub his face and neck-working to wake him faster.  Tegan looked at the faded discoloring around his eye and the fine scratches lining his jaw.

Again, Tegan shook her head.

“Cetus and Vey still outside?”

“They left on a job.”

Aelin robbed Tegan of his hold, turned on his side. He watched her for minutes in passing, and Tegan watched him in turn. “…Ah. I see.”  Neither said anything, their brows saying more with small movements than the spoken word could hope to achieve. “Do you have something you need to talk about?” His much longer hand, with its fewer fingers, encased her own, His thumb tapped the side of her wrist.

Tegan rested her forehead against the crest of his chest, hiding her face. “No, I’m good.”

“Mmhm.” She felt Aelin nod. His hand left hers and snaked around her back. “Want to hear the story of when Vey and I found you?” A smile snapped across narrow features, mischief and mirth lighting up his features.

Immediately, Tegan rolled over. “No! No I don’t. Not again!”

“Vey thought I was trying to keep you as a pet!”

“Aelin! Stop it!”

             She moved to get off the bed and flee. So many times she’d heard the story and so many times had she wished Aelin would pick a different one to tell. At this point it was tedious, told more for the sake of the ones who actually remembered the event. Aelin caught the hem of her shirt, pulled back to halt her escape.  She regretted the price of waking him up, even if it had been half of an accident. Aelin pushed himself up into a sitting position and trapped Tegan against his hollow chest with lanky arms. He rested his chin on the top of her head. “It’s such a cute story though.”

“Uuugh!” She squirmed to free herself. She only managed an arm.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop.” Tegan could feel his jaw shift and smile.He kept her locked in his arms, the soft beating on his heart felt on her back. Annoying to be held immobile, an oldest brother’s greatest joy was to torment. “You talk to me when you need to, Petal. I’ll be here to listen.”

[dispatches-from-the-lorecord]

Yuu, the glitched-out shadow of Mt. Battle, and Forrest

[February 3, 2023]

{Newbie:}

good morning! who’s ready for a lore ramble? :HYPERRACC:

ok so. it kinda hit me last night when i was drafting up stuff for the tumblr. the origin of glitches as corrupted remnants of lost worlds. Forrest's vendetta in VW2Redux. the host battles.

the four heavenly kings.

now, the first three, it makes sense. Sky dealt with invisible "ghosts" in Storm Silver. Karma meddled with space-time thanks to the Red Chain. Stars has his origins as a duplicate of a prominent hacker. them all being in Unova makes sense, in the grand scheme of Forrest's arc.

but Yuu? what on earth does Yuu have in common with these three? and why is he the final opponent?

well, here's why:

i think Yuu figured out the origin of the glitches.

first off: in my GrandCol lore, i differentiate between Mt Memento (story mode Mt Battle) and Mt Battle (battle mode Mt Battle). Mt Memento is the "real" mountain in GrandCol!Orre, and Mt Battle exists in this sort of sub-reality state.

what i was originally going with: Mt Memento was sacred ground, but became corrupted, and ended up mass-spawning Shadow Pokemon (which existed prior to Cipher, and Cipher later figured out how to recreate the process). this is why countermeasures like the Time Flutes and the Relic Stone exist. Mt Memento was designated to be purified by ascetic Memento-using Pokemon. Mt Battle, meanwhile, is an echo of the pre-corrupted Mt Memento.

but. Shadow-ification has its origins in glitchstuff. and if the echoes of remnant timelines can result in glitches... does that extend to more than just living things?

what about... places?

let's say, perhaps, that battle mode!Mt Battle is in fact a pre-timeline-reset Mt Memento. a big fragment filled with displaced trainers and pokemon that got stuck on the walls of Orre's reality, overlapping Mt Memento, and is slowly rotting into glitchhood and bogging all of Orre down with it?

(Yuki--who i lore to be Quotes, and hyper-senstitive to glitchstuff after her multiple NDEs with glitches in RTHE--was always a bit unnerved by Mt Memento. it's because she could feel the Void pressing in closer and closer and closer...)

by the time GrandCol rolls around, the situation is becoming more dire. the matrix glitch? the crash at the Relic Stone? the walking glitch we managed to perform in Agate? yeah, that was Mt Battle. that was Mt Battle decaying further and further and further and the Void starting to seep in through reality’s seams.

(the Relic Stone sits right on the cusp of reality's fibers, like a stitch along a seam, a cornerstone to timelines. and through it, the decay was oozing into Agate Town, little by little.)

the Voices' goal, first and foremost, is to reach Ho-Oh and help Quotes revive her fallen team. but Ho-Oh returned to Orre because shit was going to go down. Ho-Oh doesn't usually revive the dead outside of very dire situations, but it'll make an exception if the Voices can beat back the glitch mountain slowly sinking into Orre’s foundations and threatening to capsize the entire region.

so they part reality like a curtain and arrive at this derelict, half-formed mountainous shape. they construct themselves a ramp using their reality bullshit powers and ascend to the top, trying to physically beat it back, trying to push it as far away from Orre as they can manage and hopefully detach it from the walls of reality before it can wear a hole.

"Do you want to take a break?" we were asked, constantly, during the trek. because the Voices had to stop and manifest another section of the path each time. if they could have marched through interrupted, they would have. but they had to stop at the end of every battle or else Yuu would have walked right off the edge into nothingness. and they had to win constantly or else they would be overwhelmed and forced to retreat for their own self-preservation.

at first, Yuu doesn't quite understand the minutiae of what's going on. he's not versed in glitches, or cosmic bullshit, and knows nothing about reset timelines. he does know that his job is to battle myriad opponents and trek up a mountain (hey, didn't we just do that??) in order to get Ho-oh's help. he doesn't ask the questions he should have before agreeing, which in hindsight wasn't the smartest decision...

now. Yuu is brash, and impulsive, and stubborn, and arrogant. but. he's not stupid. and he's not blind. and it isn't long before he realizes something is very, very wrong.

at first, the trainers he faced didn't seem too off. their coloration was a bit dull, and there was a tinny whine when they spoke, and a slight jerkiness in the way they moved, but they didn;t otherwise act out of the ordinary. these were the trainers at the lower levels who were still ignorant of their situation.

but the further up he went, the more wrong things became. the trainers start to more and more resemble the "shadow boys" we saw in Star. black, featureless humanoids save for glowing red eyes, mostly stable silhouettes, still capable of speech. their pokemon seem normal at first glance, but their moves are Wrong (Drill Run Kadabra, Triple Axel Altaria, etc.) and they don't quite move correctly, and those too become increasingly more and more warped in their proportions and movements the further up you go.

by the time Yuu reaches the top of Mt Battle, he's furiously interrogating the Voices.

the Voices struggle to give straight answers, or at the very least a satisfying one. so he goes through Mt Battle a second time to get his own (the Singles gauntlet). it's along the way that he learns about the resets, and Mt Battle's origins, and the people and pokemon that are slowly descending into glitchhood, and how he and his own team are only protected from the same fate because he’s the current host and the Voices can bullshit almost anything.

almost anything. even the Voices know better than to stay in the Void too long.

it's in the middle of Yuu arguing that they need to do something--what do you mean they're beyond help, they can't just leave these people here in this state, there has to be some way to save them--that the Voices yank him out. they did their job and detached the mountain from Orre's reality-walls and it's going to sink safely into the Void now. and when Yuu wakes up, he's at Mt Memento’s peak with Ho-Oh peering over him, and his head is silent for the first time in months.

Orre is stable again. Mt Memento is deemed purified. Ho-Oh keeps its promise and revives Quotes's fallen Pokemon. all is right.

...if only Yuu could let that be enough.

see. Yuu never wanted to be the hero. he was grudgingly forced into the whole "savior" role by the Voices. but... bring the Shadow Pokemon back into themselves, restoring their sense of selfhood... that felt good. and goddammit, he keeps thinking about the victims on the mountain, contorting into nonexistence, and...

the reality-reset that created Mt Battle was... recent. Yuu has no idea what to do with this information. he's in Alola, checking out the new league that Quotes told him about, when some grouchy ex-IP officer who smells like a Meowth pissed on his clothes mentions a "glitch-hunter" branch stationed in Unova.

and well... it's as good a place to start as any.

Yuu arrives in Unova--and then takes a detour at the PWT, because he's Yuu and he loves battling and he loves the spotlight. for some reason, the opponents he faces are vaguely familiar to him, their names flashing through his mind even though he's sure he's never seen them before...

(cough cough leftover Voice knowledge cough cough moving on)

and then on the final stage, he meets a kid with a very familiar aura humming around him--an invisible ripple in the air, and soft chattering you wouldn't hear unless you knew the sound of it all too well.

and too-bright eyes that remind Yuu of the shadow silhouettes and their luminous glares.

Forrest, as the new host introduces himself later, is glitch that got stuffed into a makeshift human body and is searching for a way to make this body permanent. he's very candid about it, probably because Yuu is an ex-host and has seen his own fair share of weirdness, and probably is less likely to be phased by such a confession. which, y'know, isn't incorrect.

but then Yuu has to go and wonder aloud, "So like... did you look like this before or...?"

Forrest furrows his brows. the Voice-aura around him undulates uneasily. "Huh?"

"Like..." Yuu gesticulates vaguely. "Before you, like, became--"

"I didn't look like anything before," Forrest cuts in, not unkindly.

"Yeah. But like. I meant before that."

"There is no before?"

"There had to have been."

"I don’t follow."

Yuu blinks, and shoves his hands into his pockets, and stares. "You don't know, do you."

"Know what?"

"Where they came from. The glitches. You."

"...What are you talking about."

Yuu massages his forehead, and curses the day the Voices crashed into his skull, because goddammit, they turned him into too much of a decent person to ignore the uneasy trepidation pooling in the kid's too-luminous eyes.

"Alright. You, uh. Might wanna sit down for this..."

[exn0bisstudios]

Scene - Nova in Soggy Cat mode

Talks on the server reminded me how much I enjoy when the usually-smooth Nova is... not so smooth. So, here is an early draft of a scene that does a good job of illustrating Soggy Cat Nova.

The version in this post doesn't include any of the variations or player choices, so don't worry if it doesn't fit the type of MC you want to play. This format just makes it easier to read for now.

Context: Early book one. MC has only known Stella & Nova for about a week. Unexpected disaster separated everyone. This is the route that has MC meeting Andrai first, and this scene introduces Désiré (though the bulk of that has been omitted).

Hope you enjoy!

Your arrival only receives the barest acknowledgment.

There's an uncomfortable mood hanging over the makeshift camp. Like they're all far too busy trying to sink into the ground to notice the new arrivals with the giant tiger. Definitely not what you expected from a crew of criminals.

But, the mood becomes understandable once your taciturn guide leads you to the heart of the camp.

Nova.

How loudly the Nightmare is complaining stifles your relief in finding someone familiar. Or, maybe it was more like whining? You catch at least 4 uses of the word 'terrible' and 6 of 'unfair' before you finally come to a stop at the edge of the group. Definitely whining, then.

"And as if getting shipwrecked wasn't bad enough," they lament, potentially for the 3rd time, "I get washed into a bog! A bog!"

Andrai grumbles beside you, so quiet you assume it is unintentional. "It's a saltwater swamp…"

"I am soaked! I am filthy! Look at my clothes! My boots!"

You glance around at the other faces in the group as the tirade continues, finding no one else familiar. The group is diverse, and they all seem to be withering beneath Nova's complaints. Some meet your gaze but return to shifting around uncomfortably when you don't jump in to save them.

The complete lack of security or suspicion irks you. Whether it is from overconfidence or inexperience, they are far too lax for a group of criminals. You're about to write them off when you feel a strange prickle against your skin. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. There is a predator nearby. A threat.

[[ INSERT MEETING DEZ FOR THE FIRST TIME HERE ]]

"You!" The force of the accusation interrupts all else, causing an involuntary flinch. So, Nova has finally noticed your presence.

"This is your fault!" They're standing now, voice shrill and indignant. Their shoulders hiked up to their ears as they point aggressively in your direction. "I never would have had to leave my house if it wasn't for you and your damn Hunter! I hope her armor made her sink!"

"Hey!"

"Oh, don't you dare!" You clamp your mouth shut. Now you get why the smugglers had deflated into an uncomfortable silence and awkward shuffling. This was a rampaging Nightmare no Seer could stop; best to let it run its course, then.

"I have seawater in places it has no business being," Nova continues, ticking off on their fingers. You marvel at how they still manage to strike such a haughty air while looking like a drowned rat. "I'm soaked to the bone and covered in mud, grime, and Void knows what else. This reek I am subjected to is unspeakable, and I promise you, Eau de bog is definitely not in season right now."

The ranger at your side shifts like it physically pains him to not correct the misclassification.

"There is no amount of laundering in the world that could possibly save my current outfit." They gesture wildly at the once-colorful silk of their ensemble, stained and sopping. "Oh, and also! It's a shame that fish don't enjoy the bespoke! Considering all my luggage, all of it, is sitting at the bottom of the ocean right now. An entire wardrobe, worth more than you make in a lifetime, gone, just like that!" They take a sharp breath. Their hands ball into fists, trembling in a uniquely regal kind of rage as their meltdown peaks.

"And my boots, [Name]! My! Boots!"

Silence descends, and it carries the kind of gravity that should only go with war crimes and great tragedies. Though, you imagine Nova finds that appropriate. A glance around confirms the whole camp, save the dispassionate smuggler, seems to be holding its breath. Waiting, still as can be, hopeful the Nightmare is finally done. And, wary of setting them off again.

That hope seems to bloom when Nova finally releases a deep, slow sigh, their tension going with it. It seems they're exhausted from their extended outburst. They start to lean, likely to flop back against the crate behind them in one final act of drama. You teeter on the edge of celebration with the rest, peace and quiet so close you can taste it—

"Oh but, wait."

You blink, a flash of collective confusion when a new voice breaks the silence. All eyes move to watch as the assassin, Stella, materializes next to the dispassionate smuggler as if he'd been there the whole time. He likely was, you realize, and he shoots you a winning smile across the group.

But once more, any relief in seeing a familiar face halts, this time stopped by the dispassionate smuggler. He's finally stopped staring at you to start emoting, eyes closing beneath a furrowed brow. He looks… tired? And you quickly realize why.

"Dreamwalker, babe," Stella coos, grin positively gleeful despite his voice being over-laden with sympathy. Nova's eyes re-sharpen. You swear you see multiple smugglers jolt to stop Stella from speaking. If only.

"There's something weird in your hair."

Time stops. Until, slowly, Nova raises shaking hands to their head, eyes wide. They repeat Stella's claim in a mumble before a look of unadulterated horror skews their face. The no-longer-dispassionate smuggler releases a sigh that can only be described as long-suffering. Andrai is pinching the bridge of his nose in supreme annoyance, the feeling echoed in the chuff let out by his tiger. Stella's grin has become maliciously revelrous as they lovingly deliver the final push.

"Looks kinda slimy, actually. Need some help?"

Chaos descends, and it is a cacophony: Nova's shrieks, the mournful groans of a camp denied peace, and the positively delighted cackling of an assassin who you'd very much like to strangle.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Scandal Ch. 5 - Loki x Reader

Summary: Loki returns to claim what is his - willing to kill everyone in his way.

Warnings: Angst.

Words: ~1800

I Story Masterlist I General Masterlist I

Taglist: @catlover092402152, @hi-there-x, @haloangel391, @misssilencewritewell, @babayaga67, @accioremuslupinn, @mochimommy2002, @just-someone-who-likes-to-write, @damalseer, @bethanystan, @loser-alert, @star017, @nina1800, @queenariesofnarnia, @n1fangirlsblog, @vengefulsokovian, @lunamoonbby, @freyagallileaevans, @emmojoy, @literate-lamb, @aninnai​, @justsomerandompersonintheworld​

A/N: Sweet little Feedback Anon, I took your suggestion. You know which one I mean if you see it. (:

Btw guys I have like 60+ Drafts I need to finish so pls be patient with me.

Word sure spreads fast among the folk of Asgard, about Odin’s shame and your innocence.

Since his lies had weakened the favor among his subjects, the Allfather was desperate to clean his name and reputation, ultimatively inviting you to come back.

But you declined, stating that this wasn’t your homeland anymore ever since they betrayed you to fullfill their selfish ambitions.

However, Asgard’s hypocrisy wasn’t the only reason you chose to stay on Midgard - you just knew that it would break your heart every day you’d spend on a place with so many memories connected to your deceased husband.

Earthlings, the people of S.H.I.E.L.D and especially Thor’s friends Jane and Erik Selvic had basically become like family to you. Even though they could never fill the void Loki had left in your heart, things being like this was more than you could wish for.

“Lady Y/N!” a familiar voice greeted you, yet his worried tone startled you. Thor was already standing in your room, practically kicking in your door as he was visibly upset.

Immediately, you put Liam into his crib and rushed to his side. “What’s the matter?!”

A strange mix of horror and excitement was stretched across his face, making your heart sink to your stomach.

Actually, you didn’t want to involve yourself with the Asgardians any further. All you ever wanted was for your child to be healthy and happy, no matter where this was possible.

But Thor was still your cherished brother-in-law, as well as a wonderful uncle, never ceasing to provide for you and Liam, even when everyone else had forsaken you.

Yet what he was about to tell you let your blood run cold: 

“Loki is back.”

Immediately, all the walls you had built up over those past months were crumbling as you collapsed to the floor, crying out of anger and relief.

“H-How? How is this even possible?! He’s dead! Loki died!”

“Pull yourself together, Lady Y/N!” Thor has always been a rather touchy-feely kind of person, in opposite to his raw and bulky appearance.

But right now, he wouldn’t dare to hug or console you, like he’d usually do. Instead, he was offering you a hand to help you get back up - which you wouldn’t be able to take just yet. “There’s no use in overthinking this! We need to hurry!”

“What do you even want me to do?” you wondered, because if your husband was really alive, you’d doubt him wanting to see you. “He’s changed...killed a lot of people before he disappeared. And still, I don’t wanna fight him. How can I be of any help at all?!?”

“We know he’s probably after you and the child” the God of Thunder stated coldly. “So you need to be transferred to a safe location.”

What can be more safe than a base of S.H.I.E.L.D? If only you knew he had already demolished a whole, giant outpost of them with ease...

“I’ll explain everything to you on the way.” “Let me quickly get the baby.”

“What, did you forget the name of your nephew already?” you chuckled awkwardly, but seeming to have struck a nerve.

Thor was only slowly approaching the crib in which your lovely baby was resting, staring at it with awe while his trembling hand caressed Liam’s cheek.

“Incredible...” he whispered mainly to himself,  as if this wasn’t the thousandth time he would lay eyes upon him. “He’s just like I remember him.”

Something was off.

Of course Thor had a spare key to your flat, but you had never heared him unlock it - he had just kind of appeared in the middle of the room. Could as well be that you had been to invested with something, or buried in thought to notice him, and yet...

“Wait” you stated, making him flinch away from the child and turn around. “My knees are still weak. Help me up first.”

With heavy steps, Thor would force himself away from the crib and towards you again, lending you another hand and easily pulling you up - just for you to point a sharp dagger to his throat.

“Lady Y/N, when did you summo-”

“Shut up!” you hissed, and the god held his hands into the air to assure his goodwill. "Drop the disguse. Now!”

The man let out an amused huff, a taint of green covering his body to revert it back to normal - revealing your husband.

His hair had become longer, and dark rings showed how devastating those past months went by for him. Yet still, he was unmistakingly your husband.

Yet a faint, mad spark in his eyes was what worried you the most.

Now he was holding a knife as well, both circling around the crib with a knife at each other’s throat, as if to dance with each other.

“So it’s really you, Loki?”

“The one and only” he declared, chest swelling with pride at his performance and completely ignoring your hostile undertone. “I missed you painfully, my sweetling.”

He looked to the side where your son was still sleeping soundly, regret clearly visible on his face. “Wha- what name did you give our child?”

“Liam it is.”

The smallest of smiles tugged on his lips, swallowing harshly to surpress the sobs wanting to break free. “Beautiful name. Very well chosen.”

Pain was stretching across your features, desperately trying for the dam of emotions to not break. The dagger in your hand vanished, rather choosing to reluctantly caress his cheek - to make sure this was really him, and not one of his illusions.

And it was really him, leaning into your touch with a content purr. “Yes, my love, just like tha-”

A loud noise drang to his ear, effectively cutting him off. He needed a second to understand that it was in fact you slapping him what caused the interruption.

“Dear, wait, I-” Another hit, this time it was your knee digging into his groin, making him gasp in pain.

With his current power, it would be a piece of cake to block you - yet he knew that after everything that had happened to you, and everything he had done...

...it was what he deserved. So he would allow you to let off some steam.

Yet much to his surprise, you were done already - now grabbing desperately on his cloak and pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

He immediately reciprocated, dropping his weapon as well to embrace you fully, lips mingling with each other over and over again.

Oh, how long had both of you craved for each other?

“Sorry” you panted as your lips finally parted, “Just needed to get that off my chest.”

“Do not apologize, my love” Loki declared, chin resting atop of your head, still no intention to let go off of you. “I deserve far worse than that.”

You looked up to him, the kiss having made something surface in his eyes: So solemn, and incredibly fragile, it made your heart ache.

“Wha- what happened to you? Where have you been all this time?”

Loki’s face contorted at the question, as if the thoughts in his mind were physically painful. But his mind was clouded, unable to make his proper memory resurfacing. “Places far beyond your imagination, dear. And I have learned many things.”

“I-I thought I had lost you...” you ultimatively began to sob, face dug into his chest.

“No” the god whispered softly, his gaze still unwavering. “You always have me. I promise.”

“What now?” you sniveled as he gently pet your head, just as back in good old times. “Where do we go?”

“What do you mean?” Loki’s features creased into a slight frown, “We stay here. There’s no need to leave or flee.”

“Bu-” you hesistantly took a few steps back, to take in his full reaction. “But you’re a wanted criminal, Loki! On Asgard as well as Midgard!”

His manner became more defensive again, glee radiating off of him. “Oh, my sweet, innocent Y/N...still the idealist, I see.”

“And you are still insufferable” you scoffed back, crossing your arms. “What do you mean?”

Actually, you dreaded the answer.

The man seemed to be thinking about many things at once, eyes narrowing before he finally took a hold of your hand, squeezing it ever so slightly when he saw that you were still wearing his ring - even after everything that had happened.

“Y/N, my love, those deaths were a necessary evil.” He tried to peck a quick kiss on your hand, but you pulled away at those words. “The only crime I feel guilty for is having left the love of my life. But don’t you worry, I’ll make up for it.”

He summoned a staff, glowing in the same blue as the tesseract - and much to your terror, his eyes started to adapt to them as well.

“I will create my own kingdom, Y/N! Here on Midgard, with you as my queen! This is what you deserve, my love! You and our child will have everything you desire and more!”

“This is madness, Loki!” It wasn’t the first time he had heared that.

People always treated him wrongly, afterwards wondering why he was trying to create felicity on his own. “Is it?” he croaked, “Is it madness for a person born to rule two kingdoms to create a home he never had?”

His plan did not merit awe or any such feelings he hoped you to have - the only person in the world he thought would understand him.

“Loki, what your parents have done to you is inexcusable, yet-”

“They’re not my parents!” he screamed enraged, eyes then widened in shock that he had raised his voice at you. “My apologies, I...”

“They have kept the truth from you so that you’d never feel different. You know you’re their son, and the Asgardians are your family. You must know that!”

“You speak like mother” he spat, and still Frigga’s words he could not shake off as easily as Odin’s. “There is no going back to that place, and Jotunheim I never had a connection with. You most likely heared that I tried to kill Laufey, yes?”

Nodding in silence, you nervously bit your lip. “Please...” Wrapping your arms around him and placing one ear at his sternum, you could clearly hear how his heart was fighting a war, struggling to decide.

“You can still stop whatever you were gonna do. We can start anew somewhere, lead a peaceful life with Liam. I don’t need wealth or power, and you clearly know any of this wouldn’t give you the satisfaction you’re searching for!”

“As always, you’re right” he grumbled deeply, already regretting what he was about to do. “But it’s not that easy, my naive little dove.”

“No~” With his hand on the back of your neck, he infused a powerful magic inside your body, slowly shutting down your nervous system completely. As careful as possible, he cradled you in his arms and slowly led you to the floor, then proceeding to take his heir.

“The only thing I need for myself is our little family - and I will avenge you by murdering anyone that did you wrong, or tries to separate us again.”

[thexanwillshine]

a;lskfjdk

Author: thexanwillshine (twitter, ao3) Pairings: Levi x Hange Cross-Postings: AO3 Notes: made for Day 2: Confessions of Levihan Week 2021

“But Levi,” Hange whines as she slumps her head on the back of her sofa and closes her eyes. “Kissing scenes are so tricky to write.”

Perhaps it’s the fact that it’s almost 5:30 in the morning. It could also be because he's tired from lack of sleep. Whatever the case, Levi Ackerman’s filter completely disappears when he asks, “Do you need a demonstration?”

Levi Ackerman can argue that every writer he’s met is always a little bit more eccentric than the average person, but no one proves his theory more than Hange Zoë.

Hange wakes him up in the middle of the night, voice screeching on the phone in her excitement. He responds groggily—as one does when their sleep is disturbed at an ungodly hour by an overly-excited author who acts as if they’ve just found out the answers to the universe—and tries to keep himself sober enough to understand what in the goddamn fuck Hange was talking about this time.

“Levaaiiii,” she says, drawling out his name in a manner that was both annoying and endearing, “I’ve figured it out!”

He can almost imagine the look on her face: starry-eyed in her joy, mouth stretched wide into a grin, fingers shaking as she bounces in glee, shifting her weight from the heels of her feet to the tips of her toes . . .

And Levi exhales in both relief and the tiniest hint of delight, because this is exactly how he wants Hange to be: happy .

Nevertheless, he replies “Figured what out?” snarkily.

Hange’s response comes out quickly, as if she needed to say everything that had to be said in the span of five seconds or less. “So you know how I’ve been trying to write a fiction novel because I wanted to get out of my comfort zone?”

Levi hums in acknowledgement as he fixes the covers over his legs before turning on his bedside lamp. He leans back on the bed frame and closes his eyes to listen to her ramble.

“So I was thinking, I wanted to write a romance novel, because you know how people fall in love and stuff?”

“No Hange, I’ve never heard of that concept in my entire life,” Levi says in a deadpan voice.

Hange laughs, because of course she would know that’s his pathetic attempt at lighthearted conversation. Levi is glad that she knows him better than most people, and it is this sense of familiarity that made him feel particularly comfortable when graced with her presence.

“Just because you’ve never fallen in love before doesn’t mean it’s not real, Levi!” Hange tells him in jest.

Wrong, Levi thinks.

“After all, you’ve probably never wanted to kiss someone your entire life!”

Wrong, Levi thinks.

“Sure, Hange.”

He rolls his eyes at her teasing, because yes, Levi has fallen in love—and maybe, just maybe, he’s still on the road to understanding what it meant to treasure someone far more than just a regular friend.

He shakes off such thoughts before maneuvering Hange back to the initial reason why she had called. “So, what did you want to tell me?”

“I finished,” she proclaims on the phone, her voice proud, “I finished writing the first ten chapters.”

Levi blinks in confusion before sitting straight up, the information processing in his mind that was still a bit drunk with sleep. “You what?” “I couldn’t stop writing,” Hange told him sheepishly, detecting the slightest hint of concern in her editor’s voice, “I’ve been writing for the past 24 or so hours. Maybe more.”

Levi grunts in annoyance, pulling the covers away from his body and jumping out of his unmade bed. He runs a hand through his dark locks, sighing. “Four-eyes, you need to get some sleep.”

“But Levi,” Hange says in protest, “I need you to read my draft. There are some parts I just don’t think are super natural.”

“And I was sleeping like a regular human being,” Levi retorted as he shrugged off his shorts. After that, he put on jeans that he had recently washed before patting down the shirt he was wearing in a pathetic attempt to get rid of the wrinkles that had accumulated while he tossed and turned in bed.

“Oh my gosh, Levi, I didn’t realize the time!” Hange replies, and he can almost feel her guilt starting to set in. “You should go back to sleep,” she immediately adds. “Take care of yourself!”

Levi slips on his rubber shoes and grabs his umbrella before answering. “Coming from you? Not that credible.”

Hange laughs light-heartedly, and his heart flutters just a tiny bit. Levi pushes the feeling away almost as quickly as it had come.

“Have you eaten?” he asks, almost dreading the reply.

There was none.

“Hange,” he calls, but there’s still no response. “Hange. Answer me,” he says firmly, prodding her on. “Have you eaten?”

The laughter that comes out from the other end is nervous. “Woops.”

Levi sighs. He opens his car door and slips inside smoothly, grabbing his keys from his pocket and starting the engine. “Hange, you’re supposed to eat.”

“Sorry,” she tells him honestly. “I really didn’t want to ruin my momentum. I can’t believe I forgot.” She mumbles her second sentence, sounding almost deep in thought. “I’ll go find food now! Want me to email you the working draft? You can look at it in the morning when you wake up.”

“No need,” Levi tells her, placing his phone on his dashboard and accelerating his car. “I’m on the way.”

“Levi!” Hange exclaimed excitedly as she heard her doorbell ring at around four in the morning.

She rushes to the door in delight, opening it to reveal Levi standing in front of her, a paper bag in his hand and a jacket half-heartedly slung over his shoulder.

“Hi,” he greets calmly, before walking inside and letting himself in.

Inwardly, Hange thanks whatever god is out there for her foresight. Her unit was relatively clean since she hadn’t really done anything since Levi’s last visit. The place seemed to pass Levi’s health protocols, since he sat on her couch and placed the paper bag on the table right across from him.

“Eat,” he tells her, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hange grins, before plopping down beside him and opening the paper bag. “What did you get me?”

“You’ll see.”

She raises an eyebrow at his ambiguity, before taking a glimpse inside the paper bag.

The smell of quesadillas immediately fills the room, and Hange lets out a soft squeal, taking out the food from the bag quickly.

“Oh my gosh,” Hange says as she nudges him on the shoulder. “You also got me onion rings! You know me too well, Levi.”

“Unfortunately,” Levi responds sarcastically, and Hange laughs almost automatically.

As Hange hums in glee, picking apart the paper wrapped around the food items, Levi maintains his silence. They stay like that as Hange eats. Every so often, she would comment about how the amount of cheese was perfect and how the onion rings just about melted in her mouth. Levi alternates between watching her eat and scrolls through his phone placidly.

Soon, he chooses to break the silence. “So where’s your draft?”

Hange is munching on her last piece of quesadilla when she glances in his direction. “Oh, it’s on my laptop! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you, this food was just so good.”

Levi stands up and heads on over to Hange’s room, gently pushing the door open and scanning the area for her laptop. On top of her unmade bed was a half open Macbook Pro, which he gently took before returning to his seat beside Hange.

Without hesitation, Levi opens the laptop and inputs the password. For some reason, Hange made it his birthday—1225—because she claimed that no one would guess such a random date. He is greeted with a blaring Google Docs document entitled “a;lskfjdk.”

“Nice title you got there,” he comments, and Hange chuckles.

“I didn’t want to think of a title yet, okay!” Hange pouts, and Levi nudges her foot gently in an attempt to comfort her from his own teasing.

He scans the document first before reading it. Hange is a good writer, but fiction is an entirely new genre for her. Immediately, he notices common habits from writing research papers leak into her new work: overexplaining, using words that are too formal for her target audience, sentences a little bit void from emotion.

He takes note of these comments on her notes app before going over her draft again, this time more meticulously than he had done previously. During this time, Hange finishes eating, wraps her trash and tosses them all inside the paper bag before standing up and dumping the entire thing inside her garbage bin.

“Levi,” she calls as she washes her hands through the sink faucet. Levi gives her the smallest hint that he’s listening by raising his eyebrow, but he doesn’t take his gaze away from her laptop. “I’m going to take a shower,” she announces, and he waves his hand dismissively.

Hange smiles to herself. Levi is always nagging her whenever she would accidentally hyperfixate on her writing, but he acts the same way when reading her works.

When Hange stepped inside the shower, Levi was already conducting a deep dive in her third chapter. The gears in his head slowly begin to turn as he begins to analyze her work.

The story revolved around the tales of the people who went to the clinic. The first chapter was a brief introduction on who the main characters were: There’s Janelle, a bright-eyed psychologist whose passion influenced the people around her. Together with El and Bea, her trusted assistants studying under her guidance, they would aid the people who went to the Hopiatria Clinic seeking care.

Meanwhile, the second chapter featured a child who felt as if she was being blamed for the death of her mother by her father. Her mother had died in a plane crash shortly after the young girl wished that her mom could go home on her sixth birthday. Janelle talks to the child gently while El and Bea provide emotional support, offering the child toys and biscuits whenever the need arises.

The third chapter was trickier, and it was there that Levi noticed a twist in Hange’s writing. The story revolved around a boy busy getting her doctorate, and a young girl who had been in love with him ever since they were in college. It’s the young girl who comes to Janelle’s office, and she relays the tale of her unrequited childhood romance to the psychologist.

The young girl is passionate, and wanted to take a step forward in order to guide her towards falling out of love with her best friend. Janelle presents two suggestions: (1) confession, while being fully-open to the possibility of rejection, and (2) accepting rejection without confession. The young girl decides to go with the first option, but to her surprise, the boy returns her feelings.

Everything seemed well-written up until the end of the chapter, where Hange had written,

And then they kissed.

Levi scrolled down the page, tilting his head to the side in slight confusion. That’s it? He thought, trying to find the rest.

Everything had been so well-described; from the girl’s internal turmoil—caused by her fear of destroying their friendship and the pain that came with unrequited love—to the boy confessing his own emotions for her.

The ending was anticlimactic, to say the least.

As he blinked at the google document in confusion, already typing out his comment on her notes app, Hange emerged from the bathroom. Her hair was loose on her shoulders, wet from her shower. Wrapped around her waist is his bathrobe, which she had borrowed from him long ago and never bothered to return it.

Levi scoffs as he glances in her direction. Here she was, parading with the cloth on and rubbing that specific fact in his face.

“Hey,” Hange greeted, smiling as she ran a hand through her brown locks, “How’s the reading going?”

“It was okay until the third chapter,” Levi says honestly, pointing the laptop screen in her direction. “The ending’s anticlimactic.”

Hange hummed, pursing her lips together. “Yeah. I didn’t really know how to end it,” she tells him as she opens her cabinet and grabs a few pieces of clothing. “Give me a bit, I’m going to change.”

She disappears into her room and Levi focuses on her story, trying to think of a way to spur Hange on and perhaps actively improve the ending’s writing.

Hange emerges in a loose t-shirt (which was, once again, his) and shorts. She sits down right beside him, leaning over his shoulder to glance at her laptop and read the specific line that particularly irked Levi.

“It’s that one, right?” Hange asks, pointing at the last sentence. “And then they kissed.”

“Yeah,” Levi responds, shaking his head. “Everything was so well-written up ‘till that point. You were able to describe the emotions perfectly, and the narration’s not that bad . . save for a few paragraphs that maybe should’ve stayed in your research papers.”

Hange chuckles. “Old habits die hard,” she responds, before taking her Macbook from his lap and transferring it to hers. “So what should I write?”

Levi shrugs. “I’m just your editor. You’re the writer.”

Hange pouts. “Yeah, but I don’t know how to make this better.”

“Maybe describe the scene more,” Levi suggests. “Everything ended so abruptly. Every emotion you’ve created and built disappeared in that one line.”

She nods in agreement. “But Levi,” Hange whines as she slumps her head on the back of her sofa and closes her eyes. “Kissing scenes are so tricky to write.”

Perhaps it’s the fact that it’s almost 5:30 in the morning. It could also be because he's tired from lack of sleep. Whatever the case, Levi Ackerman’s filter completely disappears when he asks, “Do you need a demonstration?”

Hange’s eyes shoot open immediately, and Levi’s face turns red just as quickly.

“F-Forget it,” he says, interrupting her just when he saw Hange open her mouth to speak. Any semblance of calm in his body disappears immediately, and his heart starts pounding against his chest in a rhythm that reminds him too much of a beating drum.

Hange, however, looks elated.

“You want to kiss me?” she tells him in excitement, blinking at him. “I’d like that. It could help me write this scene, you know.”

Levi looks away. “It was just a spur of the moment question.”

“So, you’re not going to kiss me?”

He actively avoids her gaze because he can already see from his peripheral vision that she looks sad, disappointed even. He grunts in response, closing his eyes and focusing his attention on a random spot on the wall.

“Oh,” Hange replies, “Well, I thought it was a good idea.”

Contrary to popular belief, Levi does want to kiss Hange. More than anything.

There were many reasons why: Because she looks so handsome and beautiful at the same time, and her very smile could light up any room she’d walk into. Because she says his name in the most endearing way. Because she understands his flaws. Because she has one of the kindest hearts he’s ever seen. Because she welcomes him with open arms, not a single thread of hesitation in her mind.

Most of all, it was simply because she was Hange.

He steals a glance in her direction, and she’s slightly fiddling with the hem of his shirt, her head downcast. Her sad expression tugs at hi

Levi thinks he’s already in this too deep, so he decides to speak.

“Did you want me to kiss you?”

From his periphery, he sees her look up at him so quickly he thought her neck would break. “What would you do if I said yes?”

He doesn’t dare turn his head in her direction when he replies quietly, “What do you think?”

“Would you kiss me?” Hange asks inquisitively, tilting her head to the side.

Levi’s heart skips a beat.

“Maybe,” he says in a voice barely above a whisper. “If you’d let me.”

Hange is silent for a moment, and Levi thinks this is it, I’m going to be rejected, but he feels a gentle finger touch his chin and turn his head in Hange’s direction.

He is met with her brown orbs, shining just a bit in what seemed like hidden glee. He cocks an eyebrow at her then, confused.

“I’m letting you,” Hange says, laughing. “Kiss me, I mean.” Her face is already slowly nearing his, and he can almost see the way her thick lashes brushed against her skin.

Slowly, Levi raises his head just a tiny bit and responds against her lips, “Okay.”

Hange smiles and closes the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck as he does the same around her waist. She tastes like the peppermint of her toothpaste, smells like his shampoo (which he had kept in her apartment since he always found himself staying over), and felt warm as her skin made contact with his. Hange's lips are gentle, slow, and a little shy—so different from how she usually is. Levi knows it’s because she doesn’t want to scare him off, so he makes the first move and nips at her lower lip, taking it between his teeth and sucking it gently.

She lets out a moan, and Levi takes this as a sign to continue. He slides his hand over her back, and she shudders and deepens the kiss at the same time. Her tongue meets his, and they battle for dominance. Hange’s hand sweeps over his undercut and pushes him towards him, and it is then that he lets out a sound that vaguely resembles pleasure.

After a few minutes, Hange whispers “Levi,” as her lips make contact with his. He hums in response, pulling his lips away from her and connecting his forehead with hers.

“Hange,” he says, breathless.

“Is this you telling me you like me?” Hange asks, closing her eyes.

He doesn’t form a reply through words, but he nods and closes his eyes as well.

“Great,” Hange tells him, pecking his lips with her own. “Because I like you too. Ever since I met you, I’ve liked you. Even though you were so rude to me on the first day of college.”

He chuckles silently in relief, pulling her closer to him before placing his chin on her shoulder. “Think you’ll be able to write the ending now that you know what a kiss feels like?”

Hange laughs, and it vibrates against his shoulder as she hugs him tighter. “It’s exhilarating. I probably wouldn’t be able to put into words how good I feel that you like me back.”

“Try,” Levi teases.

“Well . . . you know that alternative title I wrote for the fictional novel?”

Levi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “The keyboard smash?”

Hange nods. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I feel like right now.”

a;lskfjdk.

[hawksky]

You wake up on your ex's fire escape; wc 2.5k

A/N: I don't really know how to categorize this ? starts as funny, gets into angst with a happy/hopeful ending. I might write this again for another character and make it 0 angst but using Megumi just let this get away from me. Thank you @sixeyesgojo for reading through my first draft, it helped me edit a lot since 😘. Although I have not looked over the ending since I wrote it, I'm done working on this fic so sorry if it falls flat.

CW: Mentions of excessive alcohol consumption.

Suggested listening: song 1 and song 2 you can pick just one to cater your experience (they are VERY different vibes) or switch over around the shampoo situation.

Objectively, there were good ways to wake up. In the arms of a beautiful person, with cold sheets and a warm body, or with the scent of your favourite breakfast wafting through the air. No disrespect to mornings at all, there were good ways to wake up, you were mature enough to recognize this.

A perplexingly rough, wet, and warm sensation gliding across your cheek, while last night’s jeans dug into your waist, and there was a pounding in your head? It was fairly safe to say this was not a good way to wake up.

It spoke volumes for how out of it you were that it was only just beginning to register in your brain that you weren’t at home, you were not even on a bed, and that the continued licks across your face were the work of animal far too large to be one of your friends cats.

“Fucking hell you’re supposed to be intimidating” you hear a voice grumble without much heat behind it.

As you forced your eyes open you are met with an excited dog tapping its paws in excitement of your presence, and the man behind the half hearted grumble. His gaze was unmistakably familiar, but his expression could not be more foreign to you.

“uhm, Hi” you croaked out while plastering a wide grin in hopes he wouldn’t murder you.

His eyebrow raised on instinct in response. You knew he was waiting for you to explain what you were doing, but the reality was you didn’t have an answer.

“I wish I could explain, but honestly I’m not sure what happened – last thing I remember was being bought another shot… Wait, where am I exactly?” You were desperately hoping you came off as charming instead of pathetic given the circumstances.

“How out of it are you?” he scrunched his face in confusion as he muttered to himself. “You’re on my fire escape, it’s in Ikebukuro? Tokyo… Japan, in case you needed the reminder”

It felt infantilizing to have him scold you like this, which only made this next part all the more difficult. You were not supposed to be Ikebukuro. You were not supposed to be in Tokyo. You were supposed to be in Yokohama. What was even more concerning is that you were definitely not supposed to be on your old fire escape, the one connected to the apartment your ex still lived in.

As you painstakingly pushed yourself upright, a warm weight laid on your upper thigh, a furry face nuzzling into your stomach – you wondered if she was aware of tension between you and her owner. You scratched behind her ears, letting Jade know she was in fact a good girl despite the earlier reprimand from her owner.

As much as you’d love to spend the day sitting on a fire escape petting your ex’s dog, you had to go home, you just need to call –

Your phone. Where was your phone? You felt around frantically for your phone, only to come up with nothing. A light sense of panic bubbles in the pit of your stomach, only to be swiftly interrupted.

“it’s already charging, I plugged it in last night, you dropped in inches away from falling down”

So, he was still watching you despite having returned inside long ago. It was difficult for you to parse this sort of gesture, how caring could it be to plug someone’s phone in when you still left them to sleep outside? Maybe he was just doing everything he could to get rid of you. It was too much to try and analyze for someone who blacked out and woke up in a different city.

“Why did you come here?” you hear him bite out from inside. It sounds harsh, but it feels like his stange way of inviting you inside.

“I don’t know what you’ve picked up from these circumstances, but not knowing is kind of a part of the problem. Believe me, there’s no amount of conscious desperation that would leaf me to sleeping on a fire escape, even yours”

You glanced around the apartment to avoid his void expression; it was spotless. But it was even harder noticing, the turned over picture frames, your favourite quilt still on the back of the couch – remnants of the past living in the present.

This tension only increased as a mug of freshly brewed green tea was placed in front of you. How thoughtful to remember you hated coffee, to realize your throat was probably killing you – you would have tasted a creeping bitterness from all these emotions, if it wasn’t overpowered by what was the distinct taste of your favourite brand that had to be special ordered.

He had always complained, there were plenty of good options for tea at the grocery store, why wasn’t that enough for you? It was so much extra effort to special order from a tea shop across town, the only place that you were able to charm the owner into ordering for you.

“How are you still so fucking awful at taking care of yourself?” he spat the words out like an insult, it was jarring honestly. Despite the time away from each other, it was no less strange to feel his detachment.

He moved towards the door beckoning Jade to follow. “There’s a towel and change of clothes in the bathroom, you should probably take a shower. If I’m not back by the time you leave, just lock up before you go, I haven’t moved the spare key.” Without looking back or waiting for a response he left.

You were starting to recognize your growing frustration – you had known him how long? Dated and lived together for a not-insignificant amount of time? Yet here you were, no idea how to interpret this strange morning, much less his last comment. Did he want you to be here when he returned? Were you supposed to leave and act like you had never been there? Could he genuinely be as indifferent as he wanted you to believe? It pissed you that your feelings were probably plain on your face.

You searched for your phone, finding it on what used to be your side of the couch. It felt ridiculous to think you ever had a side of the couch, but you were both creatures of habit and slowly without even thinking you both made your own little sanctuary mere metres away from each other.

You awoke your phone, expecting a flood of texts and phone calls from your friends, only to find nothing. Not a single check in from anyone. You open the group chat and furiously tap out a message.

<Hey assholes who let me go home on my own last night? Anyways good job I blacked out and I’m on Fushiguro’s fire escape! You are all absolutely useless to me I swear to god.>

Your phone vibrates rapidly as you place it down but you’re not in the mood to field their questions.

You’re tempted to leave now, just to get it over with, go home and crawl into bed and forget any of this ever happened. But, you felt gross, it was late enough in the morning that you could run into someone you knew, and you missed the water pressure here.

As you got ready for your shower you surveyed your options. You refused to smell like him, but the only other bottle in the shower was doggy shampoo. Surely dog’s fur and human hair weren’t so different right? Jade did have a beautiful coat, very soft and shiny… You reprimanded yourself for the ridiculous idea, but the point remained, there had to be something else for you to use.

Your brain, far more alert than it was 30 minutes ago, thought of all the things he hadn’t changed, all the fixtures still in place. You had always kept an extra set of all your supplies under the sink. By the grace of all that is good on this cruel cruel earth, they were there, in all their dusty glory, your prized hygiene products sat unmoved under the sink. It would have been sick and twisted to have to leave your ex-boyfriend’s apartment smelling exactly like him, left to spend the rest of the day agonizing over whether you should take another shower.

As you entered the shower you wondered more. He had to have noticed the softness in your eyes, the faint smile you wore just having an ounce of his attention again, the way ti widened at every caring gesture, and falling with every biting remark.

Yes, it hurt every day missing him. Yes, it would hurt if he hated you. But none of that compared to the feeling of not knowing. What were you supposed to do with all these residual feelings that have yet to go away? Were they worth the suffocation or should you strip them away?

You were proud of yourself, all these reminders of what you once had, in a place you once loved, and you had yet to break down, not even shedding a tear. If you weren’t wrapping yourself in a towel, you would’ve given yourself a pat on the back. This victory was short lived, everyone’s strength has its limits and you had taken yours too far past it already. But then you saw it, something you were completely unprepared for.

Laid neatly on top the closed laundry basket was THE outfit. It was nothing special to anyone else, just a grey sweater and loose joggers, but how many days had you spent alone breathing in his scent for comfort while he was gone? How many hard days at work had you reaching for these exact pieces as if they were the cure to all your problems?

Unable to support your own weight anymore, you fell to the tiled floor, tears spilling out, as your already sore throat grew even more hoarse – you felt like everything was collapsing around you. You weren’t expecting to see him, and you certainly weren’t expecting to need him in so many little ways. It was easy to forget how easily he weaves himself into your life, encroaching on everything you do.

The world disappeared behind each shallow breath, and an endless stream of tears you couldn’t control. Your fingers scratch against your forearms repeatedly, trying to ground yourself in some reality you could no longer grasp. It is so exhausting trying to be over him, going through these cycles of strong emotions, over and over and over again.

Suddenly, for the second time in as few hours, you felt an overwhelming weight encompass your body.

Of course, his stupid fucking perfect dog would still know how to bring you out of a panic attack like he had spent so much time training when you started dating. You clutched to Jade as your breathing slowed, but it did nothing to stop your sobs, if anything it was just another painful reminder of everything you let go.

“Uhhh….” Megumi was frozen at the door, for the first time today he didn’t know what to do. His indifferent façade dropped as he observed the scene on his bathroom floor.

There’s nothing left to lose, not for a moment that he has seen this morning have you possessed more than an ounce of dignity, “So that’s it? You don’t know what to do either? You know it’s been a whole fucking year and I still haven’t figured out how to live without you. A whole year and I’m still a mess. I can’t survive being reminded of us, look at me. And yet every attempt to get over you was a knife twisting because they’ll never be you. Now I’m here and I get to witness the wonderful Megumi Fushiguro, unaffected, and you… you have it all together.” You trail off, giving to him everything left in you.

You weren’t expecting the confused and indignant expression on his face, “You think this is having it together?” His voice lightly raising with each word “This place might as well be a sealed shrine to you and our relationship. I haven’t thrown a single thing out, moved any furniture, bought anything new – the only thing that’s ‘new’ is your stupid tea I keep buying even though I hate it, and for fucks sake y/n I should’ve moved out. Every part of me that looks like I have it together is just my version of a mess.” He brushes a stray strand out of your face, his own face moving far too close for this to be purely platonic anymore “y/n I’m no better off than you are, I’ve just kept everyone from looking”.

“So what are we supposed to do with all this?” Your eyes shining, naïve hope seeping through your defenses at the confirmation that he couldn’t live without you either.

“We could try again” Somehow, it wasn’t quite what you needed to hear. “I, am going to get dressed, and then we’ll talk, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” He nodded lightly, pulling himself up and exiting with Jade on his heels.

Dressed in the clothes you thought would burn your skin to even touch let alone wear, you let out a long sigh as you sit on at the breakfast nook. “Look, Megumi, I need to know if you’ve worked through it, any of it? I can’t, I can’t wait another three years for you to tell me you can’t say the words I love you, that you can’t commit to more than a yearly rental, I can’t just have you here I need more security than that”

He pursed his lips, unsure of what he could say to that, how he could make sure you didn’t leave again.

“Megumi, I don’t need you to say it to me today, I don’t need you to commit to anything today, but I have to know you’ve tried that I can’t keep waiting for you”

“I… Just give me a minute, please” his voice weak pleading with you. You waited, knowing better than to rush him, laying a hand on top of his assuring him you weren’t going to run out the door.

“y/n, I’m supposed to be honest and vulnerable, I’m supposed to tell myself that people won’t abandon me just because I give them access to who I really am. I want to tell you I love you, because there’s no other explanation for feeling this way. For feeling like your eyes outshine the stars, that your mind is more brilliant than the sun. I’ve tortured myself for a year with the idea of you meeting someone who could give you everything I couldn’t, and selfishly I prayed they were awful, I wished you were miserable so I pretend the truth wasn’t real that I was not enough for you, that I couldn’t give you what you needed. I’ve never seen a loving relationship, certainly not for long enough to form memories, but I look at you and I can’t imagine anything else”

Your thumb reaches to brush away the stray tear sliding down his face as he spoke to you. Manoeuvring yourself around to be on the same side of the nook as him, you pull him into you, letting him bury his head into the crook of your neck. You placed a gentle kiss into his hair before whispered into his ear “You were always enough, I just needed you to know it too.”

not not a tag list: @satosuguslut @sandyscastle

[lets-atlaswrites-world]

The effects of taking a break from writing

Alright, so that title might be a bit misleading since I haven’t really taken a break from writing, I’ve just shifted my focus and schedule around quite a bit. Before this month, I was writing, editing and uploading a chapter every month for a little over two years. Now, I’m ‘taking time off’ to work on the detailed outlines making up the finale of the story. So I’m not writing less, but I am writing quite differently.

 I got rid of my old schedule and haven’t introduced another deadline. Instead, I’m looking at these outlines as ‘taking as long as they will take’. This decision was made to give my mind some room to breathe and to give me creativity enough time to recover and view the finale with a fresh set of eyes. After all, I have no following to speak of, no Patron’s clamouring for the next chapter and threatening to unsubscribe, so I wanted to use that to my advantage. The only pressure I’ve felt on this project has been from myself to prove that I could maintain a steady stream of writing over a prolonged period of time. I’ve definitely proven that and, even when I didn’t upload a chapter this week, I did go ahead and commission a piece of artwork just to fill the void.

 The effects of a looser schedule took a while to sink in. At the beginning of this month, I didn’t notice much of a difference. I was working hard on the outlines and I’ve made fantastic headway with them and rectified a lot of problems I’ve always had with the story overall.  I still had that itch to write and I was doing it and pleased with my progress. But it was only weeks later, towards the end of this month, that I’m beginning to really see a difference between ‘then’ and ‘now’.

 An important fact to keep in mind was the fact that I was doing freelance writing work over quarantine as well, which contributed massively to my creative burnout. For months, when I wasn’t working on my novel, I was working on someone else’s ideas. Often while dealing with customers that were less than pleasant or helpful, if I’m honest. So for months, I was up against deadlines on a near daily basis. I shut down my freelancing service when I went back to work and this ‘break’ followed soon after to focus on my own writing.

 My general mood is a lot better right now. I feel personally happier, less stressed and less tense on average in my day to day life. I find it easier to live in the moment rather than looking ahead to the next page/next draft/next chapter. So that’s pretty cool to begin with. But for my writing, it really gave me the space and time needed to get my thoughts together. It’s taken the better part of a month for my creativity to recover and begin to flow properly for the first time in almost two years, but it’s only now that I have a chance to breathe that I realise just how much pressure I was under for months at a time. I adjusted to the pressure so that after a while, I didn’t even notice it until it was gone. Like a backpack on a long hike; it’s heavy at first but with a little practice you can ignore it and when you finally take it off, you breathe a huge sigh of relief.

 That is what this break has been like for me. And with that weight removed, I slowly felt my creativity return until it feels like it’s back to normal. I feel a lot more engaged with Ruins of Dalaghast now than when I was writing it non stop, and during the outlining process, I’m finding a lot of ideas easier to come by than when I was half heartedly brainstorming while writing months ago. I still have quite a lot of writing to do before this project is over, but I am definitely reconsidering how I schedule the final few chapters moving forward.

 So, I guess the moral of the story is to take a break and let your creative mind breathe every once in a while. It’s taken a while for my own writers mind to begin working again like it used to, but it’s definitely getting there and writing is much more enjoyable nowadays, as I’m taking a relaxed approach to the subject, than when I was writing a chapter a month. It was stressful, but doable, and something I wanted to do for myself, but its effects can only really be gauged accurately in retrospect. I hope this helps someone out there who might be struggling with the same ordeal. Until next time, take care and keep creating.

 TLDR: Take a break every once in a while. Especially for larger projects.

[overwhelmedbyskeletons]

When Nothing Moves

I can’t sleep. The sun is too bright.

I started this job cleaning out fruit slicers all night a month ago and I haven’t had a good nights sleep since. Every night filled with tossing and turning, trying to find a way to comfortably shield my eyes from the suns blinding light. Working a graveyard hours job meant I was sleeping all day and working all night. The cruddy curtains in my room were doing fuck-all for blocking out sunlight. Some of the guys at my job that were friendly enough told me to buy some blackout curtains and it will make my room completely dark, even with the sun beating down and hopefully it will help me get some good rest. after my work week ended, in my car I ordered that highest-reviewed blackout curtains I could find online and they were due to arrive at my apartment the next morning, in seven hours.

I woke the next day to a knock on my door and a shine directly into my eyes. I could have rearranged my entire room several times and still wouldn’t be able find a way to not get work on my tan while I sleep. I hurried to the door to get the package and gave a wave to the delivery driver before they made it down the stairs out of view.

Putting up the curtains was smooth, even though they were quite heavy material. My biggest fear was that they would pull the curtain rod from the wall, but that worry didn’t last long as the void that my bedroom had become was a sight for sore and tired eyes. I poured myself a glass of water in the kitchen before sitting down on my bed. Before I could take a sip, the comfort of my sheets began to sing symphonies to my tired muscles and lull me back to sleep.

I slept in, something that was unheard of even before I started my backwards sleep schedule. The clock on the bedside table read 9:23pm in red digital font, illuminating my wallet and phone that I had forgotten to plug in after last nights shift and was now most definitely dead. Still in a sleep state, I reached down to grab the charger and plug it into my phone when I heard a noise come from the other side of the bed. A tapping in a rhythmic matter, which would explain why i hadn’t noticed it sooner, but now it had gotten louder, almost annoyed at me paying it no mind and I froze leaning halfway off the bed. The jolt of fear that swarmed my body woke me up better than any instant java could ever wish. It knows that I know and its playing with me now. The tapping is getting faster and multiplies and I now that it is the sound of fingernails tapping on my wall.

(Did somebody break in am I really going to get murdered in my bed after the first night of decent sleep in my life?)

The tapping stopped suddenly, followed by a bang on the wall knocking out one of the nails holding up the curtains. My fists clenched among other things. I roll off the bed into a stance and with a sorry excuse of a warcry ready to fight whatever it was in my room to the death if need be. Nothing was there; I was sure of that. The curtains had fallen letting in the bright glow from the 7-11 across the street, revealing the only thing out of the ordinary in my room was that I needed to clean.

“Must’ve been a dream.” I said out loud, an attempt to calm myself after what I just experienced or just only imagined.

I flicked the flicked the lights on and fixed the curtains. Hammering in the nails all a little more for good measure before walking out of my room to start my day.

My apartment is in no meaning of the word interesting. I’ll state that I had, two chairs, a couch, some scattered goodwill tables of varying size, and a flatscreen TV on a small Swedish table decorated with a collection of games and movies. It wasn’t much, but I enjoyed what I had.

I prepared myself a bowl of cereal and sat on the couch to watch a show when I noticed movement down the hallway into my room. It wasn’t a natural movement in any sense and even now it is hard to explain. It was as if the world had lost focus of that specific spot in my bedroom doorway and it had grown hazy and distorted. It had the height of a man in a sheet ghost’s clothing and it was raising what I presumed to be its arms when an ad on the TV startled me back to reality. I started up a show and began eating my food quickly, doing my best to forget what might be lurking down the hall and failing as thoughts raced through my head.

(I didn’t check under the bed FUCK no one can fit under there anyways FUCK THE CLOSET FUCK it’s nothing probably just a reflection YOU HAVE NO MIRRORS IN THERE DUMBASS AND YOU CLOSED THE CURTAINS IT’S A GHOST YOU ARE BEING HAUNTED CONGRATULATIONS SHIRLEY FUCKING JACKSON WOULD WRITE A BOOK ABOUT YOU CALLED THE IDIOT’S HAUNTING IF SHE WAS STILL ALIVE)

Frustrated with myself I hopped up and marched down the hall to my room huffing and puffing with each authoritative stomp, making sure that whoever await beyond the door knew I meant the most serious of business, as well as sloshing my breakfast everywhere. As I pushed the door open fully I was rushed by what I can only describe as a shadow, knocking me on my back. spilling cereal and milk all over me and as I looked up I could see the shadow turn left at the end of the hallway into the TV room and out of my sight.

I was terrified. I tried to stand myself up while keeping my sights on where I last saw it. As I got to my knees and began to prop up, the shadow peaked around the corner with a featureless, translucent face starring at me with what I assumed was malicious intent. Frozen in fear, I could only muster up the breath to ask a single question.

“Who?”

To which, to my absolute horror it responded in a echoed whisper.

“Boo.”

And vanished.

With my pants shit and my legs like jello, it took me a moment to breath, let alone move. When Blood returned to my veins I hastily made my way to the bathroom to clean myself of spilled Golden Grahams and milk and to face the realization that what I had just witnessed was anything but normal. I spent a moment arguing with my thoughts, fighting the impulse to sleep in my car. My reflection in the bathroom mirror helped to ground me in reality, to remind me that I am fine and no harm was done. I convinced myself of a resident Casper The Friendly, albeit roughhousing ghost. I soon after left the bathroom.

I poured myself another, bigger bowl of cereal and sat down to watch anything the TV had to offer. I spent the rest of the night on the couch, eating and finding any excuse to not look down the hallway.

At around 2:51am I had had enough of wracking my brain, thinking that at any moment the shadow would reappear and attack me again, this time finishing the job. I bolted down the hallway to my bedroom, grabbed my keys and wallet and headed out my apartment to go across the street to the 7-11 for a early morning slurpee. The cashier knew me and joked about my usual purchase of sugary drinks and snacks. I gave no response, paid my $6.23 and headed out the door.

As I was crossing the street back to my apartment, I looked up to my second floor bedroom window, half hoping to see nothing, other half expecting bloody Mary herself. After what I had been through that night, I’m not sure why I even went back into that apartment. The curtain rod had been torn out of the wall again and standing in my room were two of the shadow figures latched to the windowsill, with the distinct outline of hands pushed against the glass. They watched me as I continued crossing the street; my heart was almost bursting out of my chest. I was running on fear induced auto-pilot and my destination was my apartment door. When I reached my door I finally paused and reflected on what had happened tonight.

(If they wanted me dead, They could have done it already. They were playing games with me, but why?)

I stood in front of my door for a minute before realizing I had never locked it and walked right in ready to confront whatever was inside. I flicked the kitchen light on, set my drink and bag down, and looked down the dark hallway. Spilling out of my room were dozens of shadows piling over each other, all different shapes and heights of darkness, fading in and out as if there was a draft blowing through them. I began nervously pacing in my small kitchen, checking on the hallways inhabitants every few rounds. They never moved. After a while a voice moaned from my bedroom.

“Leave”

“No.” I spat out responded in annoyance.

“Leave or...”

“Or fucking what?” I shouted with such ferocity that my neighbors definitely heard me.

“Die.”

All the blood drained from my face and immediately the shadows in the hall began screaming and moaning, shifting from side to side,all while inching towards me. My legs turned gave out from under me. trying to catch myself from falling I had turned the kitchen light off which seemed to invite the shadows to come closer. As they got closer, their faces appeared mangled and distorted consisting of holes where a human features should be. As their shadows began to overtake my motionless body, I shut my eyes so tight that it hurt. Amidst the moaning I heard one last phrase.

“Sleep again now. We’ll do the rest.”

The next thing I know, i’m laying on the doormat outside of my apartment. I didn’t care how I got there. I quickly got on my feet and down the stairs to my car. I closed my eyes as I backed out of the parking lot. I didn’t want to ever look at that window ever again.

I stayed at my friend Aiden’s place for a week. He lived alone, so he liked the company and he had the room for it, so he didn’t mind. I had told him a lie of how the landlord was spying on me when I showered and once tried to seduce me while fixing the sink. I think he believed it.

I only wanted to go back to the apartment once to get my stuff. After a week of staying with Aiden, the two of us drove to the apartment building and found that where my bedroom window used to be was blown out, stained black with burn marks. Aiden didn’t know what to say and I was beyond confused. We parked the car and I went to the landlord’s door alone and asked what had happened. He told me in detail that four days again my room had exploded from a gas leak and that I was lucky I went on vacation or else i’d be a deadman. There was nothing to be packed up that wasn’t ash. I apologized to him about his building, and said goodbye. I headed back to my friends car who was waiting with a drink for me from across the street. I got into the car without a word.

“What the fuck happened? Did he try to kill you? Tried to burn you alive cuz you weren’t turned on by his wrinkles?” Aiden said as he started the car.

“No, he doesn’t know what happened. Gas leak they think, he told me.” I said. “Let me take one last look.”

“Oh, sure. Of course.” He said, shutting the engine off. I rested my arms on the top of his car looking up to my once bedroom window now black from the fires, but somehow still intact. I thought I saw something and ran across the street to see it closer. There were two marks on the burnt windowsill; marks I could swear were burned in hands.

“You ok, Rick?” Aiden shouted from the driver’s seat.

“Yea, no, I’m good. Just getting a closer look.” I said as I ran back to the car. “Just saying goodbye is all.”

“Well alrighty, you want to grab some burgers?”

I nodded and smiled.

I never asked him if he saw the handprints.

We pulled out of the parking lot, passing my old apartment building one last time. I instinctively waved to the window that used to be my bedroom. Nothing waved back.

[skywalkerqueen42]

Sitting beneath the glaring full moon, a young woman held a book in her lap. The rustle of the pages, coupled with her ebony-furred cat’s rumbling purr, offered the only sound in the night. The woman turned the page with her free hand – the other was busy with stroking the feline.

             Yawning, she blinked. The moon hung high in the sky, and she knew she should be getting home. She could almost hear her sister scolding her now. “Sya, you have school and studying! You can’t stay out in that field all day, every day.”

             To which she would always respond, “Well, why not?”

             She laughed at the memory. The town was just visible beyond the hill, most lights turned out for the night.

             Leaves from the nearby forest rustled, a quiet whisper. Leaping up, her cat knocked into her chin, clacking her teeth together. Sighing, the woman turned to look. Fur bristling, the feline stared unblinkingly into the woods, its eyes a glowing yellow.

“You’re seeing things, Luna,” she said, but when she looked down, the cat was gone. She glanced around, searching for the small beast.

Spotting a blur darting through the woods, she sighed, peering in the direction the feline had run.

She crept towards the woods, calling the cat’s name. Receiving no answer, she shook her head and continued onward slowly. She moved lightly, not wanting to attract unwanted attention.

“Luna?” Her fingers rapped against her leg as an owl’s haunting call rang in the distance. “Luna, come here!”

No answer.

Cold sweat ran down her back. Exhaling, she turned to return to the hill. The cat had disappeared before and come back.

She hesitated, not wanting to leave without her pet. In the silence, a caress of air moved by her ear, leaves blowing in the sudden draft.

Shaking her head, she took another step. As she stopped, the same breeze echoed her movement, this time escorted by a succinct shadow.

Standing impeccably still, heart roaring in her ears, she watched an elongated hand cover the rift in the trees – her only illumination source. She silently cursed herself, wishing she had brought a flashlight.

A vaguely humanoid figure, its body as colorless as the empty space around it, visible only by its outline - a slight rim of light surrounding it was all she could see – all else was an empty void. It was almost beautiful, in a horrifying way.

As she watched it, a new light appeared. A thin white line across what would be its face, stretching into a gruesome smile. It stretched out a thin, hand-like shadow, as if welcoming her. Stumbling away, she batted at the outstretched limb weakly.

The wide grin flipped, the horrifying smile now an even worse scowl. It shook, the outline blurring and blurring and blurring.

…

And then it was gone.

…

The darkness trickled away, the familiar but now frightening scene of the forest enveloping her once again.

Her sight flickered, her lashes drifting closed. She fought it, afraid to close her eyes. Afraid the thing would return.

Failing, her vision distorted and died away.

The sun was blazing in the sky by the time she awoke. She still felt cold, the night’s events a blur. Remembering her absent cat, she glanced around. Sure enough, the cat had returned, staring at her with suspicious eyes.

“Hey, Luna,” the woman said, calming. The feline yowled, shrinking away. Its fur stood on end – something terrified it.

Furrowing her eyebrows, she called the cat’s name again.

“That won’t do any good,” an amused voice answered. “Those beasts won’t come anywhere near anything remotely supernatural.”

She yelped, swiveling around. Hovering above her was a figure dressed in all black, a hood covering his face.

Deciding to follow her cat’s example, she recoiled.

“Relax, Sya. It’s only me,” the figure said, taking off his hood. He wasn’t all too bad looking, with a strong jaw and warm blue eyes.

She gave him a puzzled look, though he did seem distantly familiar. “And who are you? How do you know my name?”

“Sorry.” The man sat next to her, setting a large scythe beside him. “I always forget. My name is Tyr. King Death has requested your presence. You are still alive, though.”

She nodded, though she didn’t understand at all. “And why does Death want to meet me?”

Shrugging, he offered his hand. She took it and stood. He grabbed his scythe, wrapping his free arm around her. The forest dissolved into ink. For a moment, she thought the shadow thing was back, but them beams of light broke through the dark, images – memories – dancing across her vision. A large black owl, dancing on a beam of white, flew past her head.

Her reaper looked at the animal. “It’s your spirit animal,” he explained.

She nodded, too breathless to respond. They floated there, motionless, but the perfect moment faded away. Faded into a riverscape, the gentle lava waves lapping against the shore. Across a bridge stood a castle made of black stone, lit by a soft red glow.

She gasped, clinging to her reaper’s arm.

He reached over and carefully pried her hand off. “Ow, Sya.”

Wincing, she looked back towards him. Apologizing, she bit her lip.

“It’s fine. Everyone gets emotional the first time.” He smiled. “Let’s not keep the king waiting, shall we?”

She rested her hand gently on his arm and followed him across the bridge. A tall, handsome man, a crown of bone resting atop his head, met them at the door.

Tyr sunk into a bow. Sya looked around, eyes wide, before sinking into a hesitant curtsy. She hovered like that for a short while before the man’s gaze caught on her.

Death looked her over, curiosity flashing in his dark eyes. “Thank you for bringing her, reaper.”

“Hi?” Sya asked. “Tyr said… Tyr said you wanted to speak with me?”

“You’ve interacted with something out of my control. I do not know what it was, or why it attacked you. However, you are not the first.” He led them to the balcony, gesturing at a grassy valley.

There were at least three dozen people, milling about, talking in hushed voices. Their discussions abruptly halted when they noticed the king’s presence.

“All of these people came into contact with this thing,” Death said. “All of them died. You, however – you didn’t.”

“Why?”

He flicked a hand, a seat appearing behind her. She sat gratefully.

“All of these people have similar spirit guides in one way – they are all prey animals. It makes sense. This thing is obviously a predator, so it goes after prey. Tell me what you saw. All of it.”

Sya hastily recounted how it had stolen the light, smiled, offered a hand – all of it.

The king hummed quietly. “Anything else?”

She shook her head.

Nodding, he sighed. “Do you have pets? What spirit guide did you see?”

“I have a pet – a black cat. There was an owl–”

“It was massive,” Tyr inserted. “I’ve seen large ones before, but it was huge. And pure black.”

Death smiled for the first time since Sya’s arrival. “Call it,” he said. “You know how.”

“Sure,” she whispered. “Sounds great.”

Sitting cross-legged and closing her eyes, she imagined white scenery. Her forest came to mind, coated in snow during a particularly chilly winter. A shadow, much like the one she had seen before, when the creature came, flitted by her. This time, though, she was not afraid. She knew that it was not evil spirits following her, but good ones. Instinctively, she went to the tree on the hill.

A book rested there, a light dusting of snow across its cover. She sat beneath the full moon, taking the book in her lap. The rustle of the pages offered the only sound in this world of spirits. She turned to a randomly selected page.

It was blank. She went to flip to a new page, but dark ink began to spread across the sheet – as though an invisible writer had spilled their inkwell across the snowy white pages.

She stopped to see what would happen. The ink flowed, forming into an elegant cursive script.

Sya read it aloud seamlessly, despite the foreign language. A dark shadow appeared on the ground before her, the massive guide perching on a branch beside her. Standing, she looked into the owl’s great, round eyes.

Bowing its head, it let out an echoing call. The spirit world disappeared, Death’s castle reforming in her vision.

             Instinctively, she stood, extending an arm. A beam of white light cut a jagged mark into the wall, the powerful bird soaring out to perch on her limb.

             Its distinctive call echoed from the walls, filling the castle with sound.

“Fascinating…” A peculiar look came across Death’s face, almost – but not quite – awe. “Nebulosa.”

He bowed slightly, a respectful act from one deity to another. The owl responded in turn, spreading its wings in a silent movement.

Sya shifted closer to the king. “You – you know her?”

The king nodded. “She is a great deity from our past. I can tell you her story if you wish.”

Smiling, she shook her head. “Perhaps another time, your majesty. We should focus on finding out how to defeat this thing that attacked me. What is it?”

His face fell. “We don’t know.”

Sighing, he stood from his throne, stepping towards her and Tyr. “My sister agreed to allow us in her palace to discuss it. Nebulosa can access realm-shifting. Tyr and I will meet you there.”

With that, he disappeared in a cloud of inky smoke. With an exasperated sigh, she nodded to her guide. The iridescent blackness seeped into her vision. Nebulosa hooted softly in her ear, soaring away. In her wake she left a trail of white, a road to lead her way.

Sya took a hesitant step, her foot hitting the white path solidly. She looked out at the blackness.

Curiosity getting the better of her, she waved her foot slightly off the path. It hovered in empty space briefly before she yanked it back. A disapproving hoot scolded her, beckoning her on. She followed, chastised. As she walked, she came across a door – perched above it was none other than Nebulosa.

She hesitated – a sense of danger seemed to come from the silver archway. But her friends were in there.

Friends. She had known them such a brief time. Were they really her friends?

Yes. And technically, she had known Tyr for a long time. For all her life. Lives. She took a deep breath.

Do they think of you as a friend?

She froze. Confused, she wondered why she would have such a negative thought.

You did not. I did.

She turned around. Umbra – where had the name come from? She had never heard it before – stood there, the gruesomely wide smile once again taking up its features.

“You.” Her voice shook, betraying her fear. Cursing herself, she took a deep breath and tried again.

“What do you want, Umbra?” she asked. Her voice didn’t shake this time.

Come with me. You owe nothing to these people. What have they done for you? If you came with me, you could live forever.

It was tempting. Of course it was – immortality; the dream of Earth.

You want it. I know you do. I know everything about you. The spirit world disappeared. Sya’s home, the apartment she shared with her sister, took its place. She spun around, eyes wide.

“Sissy! Thank gods.” It was her sister, plowing down the stairs to embrace her.

Bewildered, Sya wrapped her arms around her. “Aura? What?”

“That filthy cat of yours came home without you. It may be a mangy beast, but its fiercely loyal. We were so worried!”

“We?” Sya couldn’t think of anyone else who might worry.

Had she stumbled through a portal? How else would she be back home? Back home. Aura had seemed frantic. How long had she been gone?

She repeated the question aloud.

“Only a day.”

But you already knew that, didn’t you? You doubted it – doubted that you’d be home. But the doubt that I knew how she hated that pet of yours. That was stronger. But you forget, my dear Sya.

Aura disappeared, her ruby hair flattening into a black, faceless figure. Umbra’s smile had changed. Where it had had some semblance of warmth, now it held only anger. I know you. I know every thought, every memory, every doubt. I can give you that life back for real.

“You know,” Sya started, the tremble back in her voice. “Humans usually have eyes.”

Umbra let out a wet cough. It reminded Sya of when her grandmother died, the rattling breaths terrifying the five-year-old. Umbra’s coughs lasted longer, dragging on and on and on.

Sya finally realized that he was laughing. At her. Her house disappeared, the spirit world’s inky surroundings enveloping her. It was comforting, now.

See, now that’s why I like you, little witch.

“Why do you call me that?” she asked, slowly backing towards the portal.

Its smile was warmer now, as though remembering something fondly. When I saw you with your cat, I assumed it was your guide. A witch usually has a black cat, and I thought you’d be willing to join me. You still are, though you fear me. My offer tempts you; I can see it.

She took another slow step backwards. Expecting to find solid ground, or perhaps the wall of the portal, instead her foot met only empty space. She whirled around, stumbling back onto the path.

Shaking its ‘head,’ Umbra tutted disapprovingly. Its illusions had swapped where she thought the portal was with where she thought Umbra was.

Fooled. Again.

Now, now. Where do you think you’re going, little witch? Certainly not through there. It won’t take you anywhere you want to go.

“Yes, it will,” Sya said, clenching her jaw. “It will take me to my friends.”

So, you cling to the notion that these people care about you. Its form shifted, the blackness changing into a truly humanoid form.

Blue eyes, sandy blond hair. Tyr’s strong jaw. Umbra smiled unnaturally.

Is this more visually pleasing? Do you prefer me in this form?

His tongue flicked, snakelike. It was black and forked, foreign in Tyr’s mouth. Shuddering, Sya stumbled away, forgetting that she was on a narrow path. As she nearly fell, Tyr’s hand – Umbra’s hand – grasped her arm, pulling her close to him.

Clearly not. Fine. We can ask them ourselves. The portal lit up with swirling patterns of white.

He led her through.

The first thing she noticed was the aroma. The air smelled welcoming, warm. Then she noticed the walls; light fractured into perfect rainbows, making the crystal walls alight with a million colors – more than Sya had ever imagined.

But then Umbra – still disguised as Tyr – dropped the illusion.

The immaculate walls shattered. The warm smell spoiled with smoke.

But most prominently the white-winged angel crumpled on the ground.

“No.” The word was almost inaudible, gone as soon as it came.

“Umbra. What did you do!” Shaking her head frantically, Sya ran forward.

He didn’t stop her. I didn’t do anything. Merely disguised the truth.

Collapsed on her side in a pool of blood lay the angel. She had one wing twisted beneath her, the other sprawled to the side.

Umbra stood beside her, looking down at the angel.

“Umbra.” He didn’t respond, preferring to examine a shattered piece of crystal. He fingered it, flipping it across his long fingers.

“Umbra!” she snapped. Startled, he cut himself with the fragment. He glared at her, the blue eyes a hundred times colder than Tyr’s ever were.

What is it, Sya? What do you want me to do? Sya noted that he used her name – he hadn’t done that before.

Looking up at him with zero fear, she snarled back her response. “Where are my friends?”

He waved his hand – a completely unnecessary gesture – and after a few seconds Tyr and Death barged through the door at the end of the hall.

             “Are there any more illusions?” she asked harshly.

             No.

             She gave him a disapproving look, as he was still in Tyr’s form.

             You’ve become very demanding, little witch.

             She deigned not to respond, and with a sigh he shifted back into his natural form, reverting to the horrific grin. He very obviously still wanted to intimidate her into accepting his offer.

             Death noticed as Umbra shifted, grabbing Tyr by the back of his hood before he could get any closer.

             “Nebulosa!” She swooped through the same area Sya had arrived from. But before she could reach the king, Umbra reached up, snatching the bird out of the sky.

             Nebulosa. I remember you, my dear. Do you remember me? he growled.

             “Let her go.” Sya stood from her position next to the fallen angel.

             Turning to set his terrible smile on her, he stepped forward. As he did so, he drew up another illusion.

             This is your last chance to turn against them, little witch.

             “Release the owl, Umbra.” Her voice stayed steady, though she felt her hands shake.

             You are afraid of me, Sya. You cannot harm me, and you certainly cannot hold your ground in a fight.

             Standing firm, she held her head high. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.” She was bluffing, she knew it, he knew it.

             She looked around herself – it was a stunning deception. She looked out at the clouds from the top of the grassy mountain.

             “It is an impressive illusion,” she said, willing herself to stay strong.

             His smile widened. I can teach you how. It isn’t so hard as it seems.

             Swallowing, she offered him a slight smile. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

             He changed his appearance again, but this time it wasn’t Tyr. He was handsome. He had black eyes – no whites, just pure darkness – and pale skin. Pale, thin lips stretched in a wide grin that seemed perfectly natural on this face.

             She hated to admit it, even to herself, but he was handsome.

             “Who is this? This body, I mean,” she asked, tilting her head.

             Me. Me before I lost this form. Before she –

             He froze, his illusion shattering. His large black form lost all appearance – only a black mass floating before her. Turning around, Sya glimpsed Death kneeling beside the angel, Tyr standing guard above him.

             Nebulosa flew back to her arm, perching gracefully.

             Umbra, glaring, drew up another illusion. Though conscious of the illusion and how it looked, Sya had double vision – with Nebulosa’s help, she saw through the deception.

             She called his name, called for him to stop.

             Little witch. Why can’t you just give up on them?

             Shaking her head, she smiled gently. “They wouldn’t give up on me. Why should I give up on them?”

             He didn’t answer.

             “Someone hurt you. You recognized Nebulosa, didn’t you. You called her ‘my dear.’ That wasn’t coincidence.”

              No. The word was almost inaudible, gone as soon as it came. It wasn’t.

              “Umbra. Cruelty to others won’t make up for cruelty to you.”

             Death stood from the angel’s side. “We can make you a guide. You can help others, not harm them. I’d say you’re a panther, correct?”

             Why would I want that? Why shouldn’t I destroy you all, now? I could do it. I have the power to kill Death. I’d be worshipped by the humans. They’d all be immortal.

             “Would that make you happy?” Sya asked him, her voice soft as could be.

             I’d be powerful! I’d – I’d be a god!

             “You?” Death shook his head. “You’d be miserable.”

             A light caught their eyes, the light of a portal opening. Nebulosa flew through it, her movements as silent as ever.

             I will follow her. Death smiled at the shadow-beast, extending a hand. Umbra took it, changing into a great black panther. Not an illusion, this time. Bowing, it turned, leaping through its lover’s portal.

             Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, Sya watched the swirling light emitting from the portal.

             Slow clapping echoed through the room. “Wonderful. Just wonderful. I suppose I’ll have to kill you myself, then.”

             A powerful figure rammed into Sya’s side, sending her flying through the gateway. She landed, hard, on the white road. Tyr’s face hovered above her, his arms holding her down.

             He stood with a growl, pulling her close to him. His striking blue eyes glared into hers, paralyzing her with fear.

             Silently, he twisted an arm behind her back. The movement involuntarily spun her around. She tensed, her back to him, as she faced out at the void.

             He nudged her forwards…

             And forwards…

             And forwards…

             Until she was right on the edge, her toes hanging out into the abyss. The thought to call for Nebulosa flashed through her head. He covered her mouth with his hand.

             “Sya.” He offered her a disappointed sigh. “What do you think you’re doing?”

             She bit him with all her strength, tasting blood as she sunk her teeth into flesh. His hand tensed but didn’t release her. The sticky feel of blood ran down her chin. The thought that her shirt would be ruined flashed briefly through her head, and she wondered sardonically if that was important when she was standing on the edge of the void.

             “Why, Tyr?” she whispered against his bloody hand. “I trusted you. How could you do this?”

             “Quite easily, really,” he replied, releasing his grip on her.

             She stumbled, caught off balance by the sudden lack of his steadying hands.

             Flapping her arms in a frantic bid for safety, she managed to regain her balance, teetering on the edge.

             A heavy sigh met her ears, disappearing with nothing to echo off.

             Her hair moved – just the slightest bit, but enough. It brushed against her cheek. Involuntarily, her muscles twitched, her head jerking to the side.

             Her balance lost, she slipped. Losing all sense of direction as she fell, all she knew was the rush of air against her face. Her locks of hair whipped against her forehead.

              The only sound – a short ‘tut, tut,’ met her ears briefly, then the soft foot falls to let her know of Tyr’s departure.

             Abruptly, the sickening sense of falling - that pit in the center of her stomach – stopped. So did her air supply. She had heard stories from astronauts, the feeling of weightlessness, the sense of drifting through the empty blackness.

             Only, the had helmets to provide them with air. They had stars, to show them the way, to fill the darkness. They always had something to keep them tethered, someone who could pull them free.

She had none of that, only blackness and empty space. Nothing to guide her, nothing to free her from her prison.

Or did she?

With the last inkling of oxygen left in her starving lungs, she croaked out a name.

“Umbra.”

She couldn’t tell if she was losing consciousness or not. Her head felt fuzzy, but she couldn’t see anything, eyes open or closed.

Then a flicker of light.

It might have been her imagination, looking for something to focus on in its last few seconds before she blacked out.

She woke with no feeling in her limbs. No, that wasn’t true. She had feeling, only she didn’t understand it. The feeling seemed different, alien. Her eyes flickered open, finding herself in the woods. Familiar woods, with tall pines, though her vantage point seemed odd. It appeared to be that she was sitting on a branch, though she couldn’t think of any that could hold her weight.

The details of the grass, the ants strolling along the bark of a neighboring tree, all of it was visible in clear, precise detail.

It unnerved her, as did the ruckus of chirping birds and buzzing insects, more than she had ever heard even in mating season.

That sort of sound level usually gave her a headache within seconds. Oddly enough, to her ears it was perfectly normal. She stretched.

And that’s when she realized why everything was so uncanny.

“Odd, isn’t it?” The voice was in the hoot of an owl, yet the words made perfect sense.

She looked at the large, gray wing connected to her back. The one that had taken the place of her right arm.

“Very,” she said, intrigued but not surprised when it came out as an owl’s call.

She hesitated, opening her mouth – beak – to ask the other owl a question. Before she could get the words out, a different voice stopped her.

Leaping up onto her branch, a panther licked its paw. “You are welcome.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Panthers aren’t usually in this area, you know.”

He purred. “Humans don’t come in this part of the woods, not since a young woman went missing. Besides, they cannot see us.”

Preening her wing, she hooted softly.

“Yes. There was no other way, not with Life gone. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she replied.

“I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

 (Hey guys. I wrote this “short” story as a school assignment, and it was what inspired me to write my current novel, bloodless.)

[storms-path]

FFXIV Write 2021 Master List

It’s been one hell of a month, huh! Thirty whole days of writing whatever I could in a frantic rush to get my prompts done in the scant few hours I had to do ‘em in, but somehow I got it all done on time. It was a lot of fun, getting back into the groove of writing, and I’m fairly proud of what I’ve managed to do. So here, have a master list of all my lovely little prompts.

Day 1: Foster - In which a nuisance viera doesn’t take no for an answer.

Day 2: Aberrant - Ishgard’s a cold place for most, but colder still for those that look draconic.

Day 3: Scale - A training session is rudely interrupted, and personal questions are asked.

Day 4: Baleful - A terrible legend stalks her prey.

Day 5: Reunion (Extra Credit) - Two irritable Dragoons finally make amends. Or at least try to.

Day 6: Avatar - A frustrated scholar fails to find answers behind a fuzzy mystery.

Day 7: Speculate - After the dust has settled, two survivors wonder what their future holds.

Day 8: Adroit - Two sisters grow into their respective strengths, but at a terrible cost.

Day 9: Friable - A battered fighter binds her wounds and reminisces on a hard fight.

Day 10: Heady - Three Domans get very, very drunk. One of them regrets it.

Day 11: Preaching to the Choir - An escape plan is uncovered by exactly the wrong man. Final farewells are spoken.

Day 12: Mask (Extra Credit) - There’s only so much hate a woman can hold before it boils over. An old enemy pushes it to its limits.

Day 13: Oneirophrenia - Reconciliation occurs while the flame in the void lies asleep.

Day 14: Commend - A family heirloom is placed in the hands of a trusty shinobi.

Day 15: Thunderous - Horses are weird. Man-horses much more so.

Day 16: Crane - Local lizard is pranked, news at 11.

Day 17: Destruct - Two broken old war veterans try to put the pieces back together.

Day 18: Devil’s Advocate - A shattered woman stands vigil for her dying sister. But she isn’t the only one.

Day 19: Cross (Extra Credit) - Glorious returns are marred by unintended letters being sent.

Day 20: Petrichor - Local lizard is brooding again. Someone get out there and stop her!

Day 21: Feckless - Do you remember? The twenty-first prompt of September?

Day 22: Fluster - Never play a card game against Master Matoya, no matter how good your luck may be.

Day 23: Soul - After the inevitable reconciliation, a chance meeting reminds a mending soul of home.

Day 24: Illustrious - Following Diamond’s Demise, hard truths are spoken between equally stubborn sisters.

Day 25: Silver Lining - A training exercise goes predictably wrong thanks to a certain viera’s antics.

Day 26: Identity (Extra Credit) - A married couple figures out what to do next.

Day 27: Benthos - Azem watches the old Elidibus sink beneath the waves.

Day 28: Bow - Alisaie is sick of a certain foolhardy lizard’s tendencies.

Day 29: Debonair - Rich people suck. Rich people parties suck more.

Day 30: Abstracted - A letter is drafted. Then drafted again. Then drafted again. Then...

Phew! That was almost as exhausting as writing the damn things! But hey, that’s done and dusted. Now I can rest for a solid month until Roevember hits. And Endwalker. God, that’s gonna be a busy month...

[itsreigns]

It’s Real

Sheamus x Reader

(Y/N) has been pining over her best friend for a long time. Working on different brand put their relationship through a very rough path. And things only tend to get worse...

Words: 3,649

Requested by @shadow-of-wonder​

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Pining over Sheamus has been a constant in my life ever since I met him. He is my best friend, and honestly, I don’t know where I’d be without him. I actually think he doesn’t even have a clue of how much he matters, how important he is to me. 

I can talk to him about anything, even things that may be difficult or uncomfortable to discuss. But he never judges me. Even if he doesn’t fully understand, he will always try his best to. There is nothing I’m afraid to share with him. Well, except for one thing.

That I am madly in love with him.

He’s the first person I want to share good news and bad news with. When we are on the way to the hotel from work, we talk about how our day went or whatever’s going on in our worlds. We’re able to have rational, thoughtful conversations, but we also have conversations about the most random things and we can just sit comfortably in silence as well.

We were attached to the hip. Always driving around together, going to the gym together… every kind of thing.

Until we were drafted to different brands. 

When the draft happened, I was trying to gather up the courage to ask him out on an actual date, coming clean about how I truly saw him. 

That never got to happen. 

Since then, we’ve grown slightly apart. We still talked but not as much as before. Our calls got shorter, just as our texts, and we barely Facetimed. Long story short, we barely hung out anymore, because our schedules didn’t match. 

It hurt, so bad. I could feel him and our friendship slipping through my fingers. 

I missed him so much. Him as a whole. His touch… his voice… his laugh… the way he made me laugh. How he cared about me. How he always managed to get through me when I wasn’t feeling well. Everything.

So lately, all I had from him was every picture and video he put online. I go back to his Instagram only to see his face, his wide smile, in his photos. And I rewatch those videos over and over, especially when I am in bed, ready to sleep, letting his voice sink in. 

At the beginning, it fulfilled the void and made me happy, but now… it only makes me sadder. It only makes me miss him more… miss us more.

Today, it’s Monday. I have lots of work to do backstage as Raw is airing in a couple of hours, because apparently some big things that only the bosses and creative know about are going down tonight, and... I’m feeling like shit. It’s one of those days. 

Only to make it worse, I keep recalling the times when he’d notice I was feeling down. He’d whisper “Come here, lass.” and pull me into a warm side hug, as he ran his hand through my hair and pressed gentle kisses to my forehead. 

How I wish I had that right now. I’m craving his affection. I need his affection. It’s becoming unbearable to be away from him. But apparently he was doing good away from me, so there’s no way I could ever change this.

I try to shrug off the knot of anxiety that was tightening my chest, so I could do the rest of my chores as well as I possibly could right now.

After almost two hours, I was done. It was hard to do it all, but I somehow managed. Then, I headed to the makeup and hair zone, looking for my friends Alexa and Zelina. Sadly, they were both occupied. Zelina was getting her makeup done, and Alexa was getting her hair braided. 

They quickly asked if I was okay, and I managed to shoot them a fake smile as I nodded affirmatively. I don’t think they bought it, but… I just don’t want to worry them. 

I then decide to go sit in the corner of that zone. There were some storing boxes there that the personnel used to keep heavy material for the stage, so I just hopped on top of one of them. 

Reluctantly, I reach my back pocket and get my phone. I debate whether I should unlock it or not for a couple of minutes, but then I give in. I need to see his face.

With my hands shaking, I enter my Instagram, going straight to the search feature. Obviously, his name was right at the top of my searches. I open his profile and my heart quickly gets caught in my throat.

He had posted another picture. But he wasn’t alone. There’s a girl right by his side. A very stunning girl, tucked right into him for the picture. My stomach starts flipping, and I feel myself starting to get sick, wanting to throw up. 

I didn’t even bother to read any descriptions or check tags. My assumptions have been made and they were clear as water. He was dating her. 

I quickly returned to the main page of his profile and unfollowed him. I just can’t bare the thought of having to see more pictures like that one. Or even cozier… more romantic pictures. I’m almost throwing up again with nervousness just by thinking about it. 

It felt like a slap to my face and I was still numb. I closed the app and set my phone on the box carelessly. I wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t ready for it. I didn’t even know he had met someone, let alone be dating. 

This made me realize how clueless I was being. He didn’t need me anymore, that’s why he barely reached out lately. He had someone else to do the things we used to do together. 

I let him forget all about me.

No, I did not let him forget me. He forgot me. I quickly rearranged my thoughts. It was not my fault that he didn’t care about me or our friendship. I was not at fault in this. 

With this, I decided that I was going to let him go and get over this, because I am a strong bitch. Yes, those were the exact words I kept telling myself in my head. I am strong and I will not let him see how much it’s affecting me. 

Not that he’s around to, he’s obviously a little busy isn’t he? The nagging voice was back but was quickly shoved to the back of my mind when I was suddenly joined by Alexa.

She sat down next to me and stared at me for a couple of seconds before actually speaking up. 

“Are you okay?” She asks carefully, trying to read me. “I- Well, we’ve seen Shea-”

“I am fine. And I don’t want to hear or talk about it.” I know I sounded snappy, but I just don’t want to talk about the fresh wound on my heart. I want to push this to the depths of my soul and not remember it or him ever again.

“Okay. I’ll respect that.” She sighs heavily as she rubs my knee soothingly. “But if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me right away, okay?” 

I nodded in response but was eyed suspiciously by Alexa. I knew what it meant so I said what she wanted to hear. 

“I promise Lexie.”

She pressed a kiss to my cheek before leaving. And there I was, sitting in a corner, alone with my thoughts again. I honestly don’t even know how much time has passed since I saw it.

I could see people passing by and I definitely could hear the fans’ screams and shouts echoing in the arena, and damn, they were loud tonight. But I was way too numb to pay attention to any of it.

Finally, after God knows how long, I snapped out of it. When I stand up, my body feels like ten times its weight. It feels like I’ve been beaten down by someone and I’m just lugging myself around like deadweight.

And I was. Emotionally. But it’s still a beatdown.

I make my way towards my shared locker room to gather my things so I can finally go to my hotel room and just wallow in my thoughts all by myself. 

Picking up my backpack, I head out of the room. I know I was dragging myself around but I just can’t pretend anymore. I just can’t. I am devastated. In two seconds, I realized I lost my best friend and the man I love. My brain is all over the place and I just want to take a shower and then lay down and sleep. Sleep so I can forget all this mess.

I’m halfway through the parking lot when I hear someone calling out my name.

That’s enough to make me stop in my tracks. I know that voice all too well and I am hesitant to turn around. Firstly, because I am afraid that I’m starting to lose my mind and hearing things. Secondly, I’m terrified that he is in fact right behind me. 

“(Y/N).” The voice says again, this time more firm and confident. 

I got chills running down my spine. My whole body is shaking. I definitely didn’t want to do this right now. I don’t want to look in his eyes. Not now. I think everything will come crashing down once I do so. Taking a deep shaky breath, I try to keep walking towards my rental. 

“(Y/N)!” He yells this time, sounding closer to me than before. “Can you please stop for a minute and look at me?” He stops me by grabbing my arm gently.

“No, I can’t.” I choke out, keeping my gaze on the cemented ground. “I just want to leave. So just please, let me go.”

My sight is getting blurry from the tears that have formed in my eyes, as I was practically begging him to let me go. It was pitiful, I know, but I couldn’t stand being this close when I’m nothing to him anymore. 

With this, I pull my arm out of his grasp with one motion and I can feel his stare burning through my back as I walk away. Deep down, I wished he’d stop me again, that he’d hug me and tell me that he missed me, that he wanted to be at least my friend.

But he didn’t. 

He just watched. 

He just watched me walk away. From him. From his life. He didn’t say a goddamn word. And it killed me. 

As soon as I get to the car, the tears start falling down my cheeks. I am in so much pain that it almost feels like actual physical pain. My whole body hurts. My head feels like a balloon. I can’t even breathe straight. 

I cried all the way back to the hotel. Dangerous as I know it is, I drove most of the way on autopilot. I don’t even remember most of it, to be quite honest. 

The woman in the reception looks at me with pity written in her features, probably wondering why my eyes are all red and puffy, why I look like a fucking mess. She was nice about it though. Kathryn, as read on her name tag, offers me a sweet smile every time she has to talk to me and let me know some information regarding the room and the hotel, which I couldn’t focus on, considering my state. But when she gave me the key, I was able to give her a small smile, that she returned delicately. 

I’m finally in my room. Tossing out my clothes carelessly on the floor, I head to the bathroom and turn on the water. I take a good look at myself in the mirror. 

Fuck… I do look like a hot ass mess. Running my hands down my face, a sob runs through my body once again. How could a single person hurt another so badly? How could a human endure this kind of pain?

I get under the hot water, letting it fall down my tense and broken body, wanting it to wash away all the pain and sadness that is running through my veins right now. I just stand there as I get it all out of my system.

It’s about 20 minutes later when I turn the water off. Grabbing a towel, I dry myself lazily before heading to my suitcase and pulling out some panties, an old shirt and some lazy sweatpants to wear.

After putting them on, I collapse on the bed, feeling so drained and exhausted from all the nerves and all the crying.

When I am finally drifting off to sleep, there is a light knock on the door. It was so light that it almost seemed someone was knocking on a door near mine. Suddenly, there’s another knock. This one way more confident. 

It’s probably Lexie. I left without telling her anything, and I didn’t text her. She was probably worried sick, and I feel terrible about it now.

I get up and head to the door, opening it. “Lexie, I am so sorry-” 

My words are cut short when I get face to face with the person who was knocking at my door. I find myself staring at the face I was dreading to look at ever since that happened.

He has this weird look on his eyes, I can’t quite put my finger on it. But I absolutely don’t want to do this right now. I need to sleep on it, get some rest first. So I go and try to close the door before any words are exchanged. 

But he stops me, preventing the door from closing with his arm. He’s much stronger than I am, so he manages to pull the door open and get inside, closing it behind him. I sigh in defeat, retreating back to the bed and sitting down, leaning against the headboard, as he stands in front of my bed, hands tucked in his jeans’ pockets.

“Care to tell me what the fuck is going on, (Y/N)?” He says, an indecipherable tone lacing his voice. I can’t tell if it’s anger, disappointment, hurt, care or everything altogether.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I manage to say when I find my voice, moving my gaze to my hands, currently set in my lap.

“What have I done to you, (Y/N)?” He sounds almost desperate now. 

“I just said I don’t want to talk about it, Sheamus.” It hurts so much even just hearing him say my name. This is too painful. 

“You used to talk to me about anything. What changed?”

“You did.” I say before I can stop myself. He furrows his brows in slight confusion, urging me to keep talking. “Everything did.”

“I know we haven’t talked much lately, but you know I care and think about you every day.” He tries to reason, but I wasn’t having it. 

“No, you don’t.” I mumble, once again staring down at my hands, as a sad chuckle leaves my lips.

“Yes, I do.” He looks down at me in disbelief.

I feel tears in my eyes once more today, and honestly I was done crying. I avert my gaze down again, burying my head in my hands. Feeling the bed shift, I quickly feel Sheamus’ hand making contact with my thigh, caressing me gently. I wanted to slap his hand away, but I was craving his touch so, so much that I couldn’t find it in my heart to do it.

Suddenly, the girl pops up in my mind again. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” I snap, flinching away from him. “She won’t like it. You need to go to her. You need to leave.”

“Who’s she, (Y/N)? I swear you’re not making any sense.” 

I am not looking at him but I can tell by his tone that he’s genuinely confused, which makes me even more distressed. 

“The girl.” I finally look at him. He looks so concerned and confused. “In your photo. I saw it. I think everyone did.” I mumble, once more not being able to maintain eye contact with him. 

“You mean the picture I posted today?” He asks, and I only nod. “Are you serious?” Now, he was smiling and I couldn’t see what was so funny. “Was that why you were like this back at the parking lot, and right now?” He asks carefully, looking at me intently. 

It was now or never. I had to do it.

I nod. 

“That- That was Josie. Don’t you remember? That friend I had from Ireland, that I told you about?”

Suddenly, there’s light in my brain. I do remember him talking about her. They were very good friends when they were kids back in Ireland.

“I- I remember.” I admit, blushing and feeling bad as hell. 

“Didn’t you read the caption?” He asks, tilting his head to the side as he smiles at me. I shake my head no, and he lets out a light chuckle. “You have nothing to worry about. She’s just an old friend, and we were just catching up.” Meanwhile as he spoke, his hand found his way to my thigh once more. 

I was blushing as hell but I was trying to fight everything I was feeling. I didn’t want to read too much into this and get my hopes up. 

He takes a moment to stare at me, as if trying to read me or understand me. But I never said anything. I think anything I would’ve said at that moment would have ruined everything.

“Look, (Y/N)...” He trails off, glancing down at my shaky hands. “I hope I’m not reading too much into this, but… if you… if you feel something, I need you to tell me.”

That’s it. Our friendship is over. This is the part where he obviously tells me that he can’t be my friend if I love him. 

“Why do you need to know that?” I say, very upset. “You don’t need to let me down gently. You don’t like me like that, we can’t be friends. I get it. Now can you go?” I plead with my eyes filled with tears once more as I fully face him. 

“No, I can’t go, (Y/N).”

I’m crying again. Why is he torturing me? Why can’t he just leave me alone? 

“Why are you making this so goddamn difficult, Sheamus? I swear-”

I’m not even finished talking when I feel his lips pressed against mine. I am in complete shock. It takes me a few seconds to process what is happening. He pecks me one time very gently and pulls back. 

Our faces are the closest they’ve ever been. Our gazes locked. Our foreheads resting against each other. His hand cradling my face so delicately. 

“I’m not making this so goddamn difficult. I’m trying to simplify it.” He whispers as his thumb caresses my cheek. 

I launch myself into his arms, hugging him. He hooks his arms around my midsection, pulling me into his lap. I wrap my legs around his waist. I hug him so tight, as if I’d never get the chance to do it again. 

“I missed you so much, (Y/N). You have no idea how much.” He mumbles against my neck. “Being away from you, was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I couldn’t go another day without seeing you.”

This statement makes my stomach twist up in knots again. He has to go back.

“You have to go back though…” I say sadly.

“I don’t.”

“What?!” I can’t disguise my excitement. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I was moved back to Raw again.” He smiles widely, seeing how happy I was with the news.

“Oh my God! This is amazing! I missed you so much.” I smile, and before I could stop myself, I peck his lips. I pull back abruptly, once I take notice of what I was doing. “I am so sorry. I- You- ” I’m rambling and I just can’t stop myself. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He reassures, hooking a finger under my chin and making me look up at him. “I know I’m not. You know why?” I shake my head no. “Because I love you.” 

There’s silence for awhile. We’re just staring at each other, letting his words sink in. 

“You know I love you too, right?” 

“I was kind of hoping you did.” He laughs lightly. “But I can’t say I wasn’t scared shitless that you didn’t.”

“I do. I always did.” You whisper, pecking his lips again. “I love you, Sheamus.”

That somehow triggers something in him. He’s kissing me now, so intensely, I think I’m passing out soon. He licks my upper lip, begging for entrance. I can’t stop the moan that leaves my mouth, granting him the so wished access. 

His tongue starts massaging and crashing against mine, as the kiss turned into a makeout session. I’ve dreamed about this for so long, it still seemed like a dream. 

The kiss is growing hotter by the second. I, being the teaser I am, start grinding my hips against his, earning a deep growl from him. 

Suddenly, he breaks the kiss. “I need to ask you something.” I nod, waiting for the question. “Will you be my girlfriend?”.

“Of course I want to be your girlfriend.” 

As soon as those words leave my lips, his come crashing on mine again. He pecks my lips a dozen times before we pull back and hug each other.

“Pinch me, so I know this is real.” I laugh stupidly, hiding my face in his neck. 

The bastard bites my collarbone gently and I yelp in surprise.

“See? It’s real.”

Give me some feedback please?

[nootgi]

Spotlight

MLQC Victor

MC deals with the drag of life and tries to face her emotions. Will she accept the hand that reaches out to her or push them away like she always does.

A/N: HHH victor is my biggest comfort character so it feels right to get back into writing with him. Also one of my favourite fic tags hurt/comfort! I hope you enjoy it ^-^ 

Word count: 4478

There was a white light shining above me and the brightness pried my eyes open. When my eyes finally adjusted I was standing, surrounded by darkness. All there was, was a bright spotlight. 

I tried moving my body but it felt like lead, stuck in its place no matter how much I struggled. My mouth was too dry to cry out, the only thing that seemed to respond was my eyes. They bounced around, trying their best to understand but there was nothing in the dark abyss. A small whimper slipped out of my throat and suddenly the shadows began to move. 

One by one, eyes started to appear, all so familiar yet so cold. All the warmth was taken from them but the piercing one of them all were those ruthless purple eyes. They were so sharp as if cutting into my soul and laying my faults out to bare, so calculating as they judged me. Desperately I tried to defend myself but nothing came out except pathetic sobs, my face stung in the cold void from the downpour of tears. 

In the middle of a sea of darkness, eyes judged me as I lost myself. 

My eyes snapped open and I found myself in my apartment. My body shivered from the cold sweat mixed the draft from the open window beside my desk. It seems I fell asleep whilst working on Victor's proposal…

Victor… What was that dream? My brows furrowed as I tried to remember the dream but the more I tried, the more it broke apart. All I remember was the cold. My deep thoughts were disrupted by my phone alarm ringing, when I turned off it's obnoxious beeping, it set in that it was Monday. The start of a new week, the bright beginning! To shed the dead weight of last week and get to it!! The sheer thought of putting on that mask made me groan. The past week has been draining to say the least, Kiro's behind the scenes set was swarmed with fans, leading to extra security detail to be reviewed and approved. Then Reek messed up a sponsorship deal which meant the whole episode had to be re-filmed but since it was such short notice some guests couldn't attend. That in turn caused some public backlash which caused many late nights of apology to passionate fans. With so much on my plate, I couldn't help but look eagerly towards the weekend already. Just 5 days, that's just 120 hours. 

I put on my shiba slippers and walked towards the bathroom, able to take it slow this morning since it was a late start. When my light flickered on, I glanced up into the mirror to catch my reflection for a second before looking away. If you look too closely every flaw will bloom. I brush my teeth, staring at the tap like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Probably was in this apartment honestly. Once my bathroom routine was finished, I started to prepare breakfast when my phone rang again for the second time. 

"Anna? What's up?" I answered with a yawn, looking at the calendar hung on the wall. 

"Have you forgotten!? Today's presentation day!!" I gasped as I saw the red circle and arrows all point to this day. 

"It slipped my mind! I'm coming as fast as possible so please hold them off!!" My words tumbled out as I stopped all my breakfast preparations, throwing on my clothes and heels. Anna gave me a 30 minute window as a maximum. Once I got my files together, I sprinted out of the apartment. Mowing over my landlady who grumbled about running in hallways. I couldn't stop, this was too important. 

'You can't even remember something so important as this? You really are pathetic.' 

No time to address my thoughts, I reach the LFG building in record time. In front Anna stood there with a coffee and a grim smile. I took the coffee out of her hand, chugging it down, not knowing when my next break was. We walked quickly across the lobby as Anna filled me in on who was attending this talk. Ever since the company took off, more and more investors have begun to take an interest. If this talk goes well, we can begin to take on bigger and better productions… create a company dad would be proud of. Just the thought of it made my heart leap. 

When we stopped in front of the boardroom, Anna turned to me with a frown. She began to fuss over my hair, my skirt and the messily tucked shirt. I try to bat her hands away, not wanting to keep them waiting when a dark shadow looms over the two of us. I turn around quickly, getting immediately absorbed by sharp purple orbs. Victor. Just as I was about to speak, a sharp pricked my heart and cut my words short. There was something building up in my chest, like a string being wound up so tightly. 

"You're late." He says bluntly, it feels like he's speaking down at me…

"Sorry, just slipped my mind." My words left me before I could stop them, Anna looked over at me with her eyes wide. 

"If this kind of talk 'slips your mind' maybe you shouldn't be here at all." He doesn't pull any punches, huh? Brushing past the two of us to enter the room. Anna reaches out to pat my shoulder but I turn around with a practiced smile. 

"Let's do our best!" She nods reluctantly and enters the room. I take a few moments to relax my clenched fists and push down the emotion blooming in my chest. This is business, nothing more. Once again that mask slips on and the talks begin. 

After a long 5 hours, the end is finally called allowing me and Anna to collapse into our desk chairs. Both groaning at the ache in our feet and relief that the end is in sight. All that's left is the investors to speak amongst themselves and begin preparations should they choose to back us. 

"I need to go pee!" Anna blurts out weirdly, standing up instantly. I look at her questioningly, watching her back as she sprints off to the toilet. Guess she really needed to pee..? Thinking I was alone I let myself sink back into my thoughts. In my mind the talk replayed over and over, every little mistake stuck out. The long pauses between a question and answer, words and numbers blending into one and worst of all my voice cracking. Slowly the small regrets spiral into a kaleidoscope of my worst moments. All the shame and embarrassment caused the red in my cheeks to burn and my eyes glaze over. 

'How could someone like you ever make him proud?' Those words slip venom into my thoughts as the bright office lights are dimmed by the shadows growing. Suddenly the space around me changes and again I feel piercing eyes surround me. They're judging me. Who wouldn't? My skirt is short, my shirt is wrinkled and my hair is hardly in the ponytail anymore. The chances of getting the investment seemed bleaker, the tension in my chest grew more insistent. I tried to ground myself, digging my nails into my palms and looked around to distract myself. 

Just a few more hours and the fragile mask can be put to rest for today. 

"Earth to dummy?" Fingers snap in front of my face and I'm dragged back into the bright office light. Victor was standing beside me, a frown etched into his usual poker face. 

"Yes? Sorry." I look back down instantly, trying to avoid his eyes. My hands began to fidget causing me to hide them under my thighs. 

"Are you okay? You don't seem… like your usual self." He pauses, thinking of a way to phrase his sentence. When my mouth opens to respond my mind is conflicted between two responses. The truth or the usual lie… what good would come from the truth? 

"Nothing, just monday blues." I shoot him a tired smile, as his mouth opens to press on further Goldman returns to call us back to the room. Anna arrives at the same time and immediately we're swept back into the business talk. 

… In the end… WE GOT THE FUNDING! Me and Anna screamed at each other as soon as we stepped outside of LFG. Passerbys looked at us oddly but we couldn't bring ourselves to care. This was definitely the push our company needed to grow. We rush back to the office to tell the team the great news. Willow, Kiki and Minor upon hearing the great news suggest a night out. A round of drinks to toast to our future. Feeling the adrenaline from this morning leave my body, I pass on the celebration but promise to treat them all to lunch one day. The company closed early, the spirits bright, warm and lifted. You couldn't tell it was monday. 

So why is it that I feel so hollow? 

As I leave the building with the gang, Anna pulls me aside. 

"Just know I'm here for you." Those simple words gave a prick of warmth, my smile is just a ghost by this point. I just nod, fearing if I speak that knot in my throat would snap. I waved them all off and began my walk home. The crisp autumn wind kept my lonely self company, dancing around my body and trying to enter the warmth of my clothes. 

There was nothing to occupy my thoughts other than the crunch of the leaves under my boots. Anna's words and Anna's warm smile replayed in my mind, chipping away at my resolve built out of ice. I want to reach out, I want to talk but every time I cry out I'm silenced. Why should my darkness taint their light? Why must I burden them with nothing? There was swell of emotions that caused my footsteps to increase till I began full sprinting down the street. My lungs and legs burned as I collapsed inside my apartment. 

The mask finally shattered and the ugly emotions bubbled out of my chest. Sobs wracked my body and my arms wrapped around myself. 

On my cold apartment floor, I cried myself to sleep. 

There was a knock at my door, breaking my sleep at the very first rasp. My body was stiff from the floor and my eyes felt puffy. Rubbing my eyes a little aggressively, I open the door and see a delivery driver. I tilt my head confused as he leaves a bag in my hand, leaving without payment. I locked up my door once again, putting the bag down in the kitchen to retrieve my phone. It was 11pm. There were a few drunken texts from Minor and pictures from the girls updating on their night out. I laughed fondly at the picture of Minor with his ass stuck in a bush when Victor's face flashes on the screen. He's calling me. My mind blanks as I let the phone ring, once the call drops I let out a sigh of relief. 

With that the days blended into one repetitive cycle, each moment becoming more taxing than the next. It was always paperwork, meetings, filming and then home. My only relief is the click of my front door locking. I settled down at my desk with some cup ramen and began my work again. This is the quarterly report for Victor, it had to be perfect. Otherwise- I don't think I could handle his critique. If you could even call it that… more like an emperor looking a gladiator in the eyes as he puts his thumb down, sentencing the poor soul to death. I laugh slightly at the thought of Emperor Victor, he is a good leader, confident and smart. Yet compassionate and looks out for the little guys. I don't think there is a thing in the world that can shake Victor. He's so perfect, you forget that he is only human. 'Stupid perfect Victor and his perfectly perfect hair and his handsome face.' I grumbled to myself, finishing my dinner and getting back to work. 

When I put my empty cup ramen down, the heavy weight of the fork inside knocks it down onto the floor. The clattering sound echoes around the apartment, serving as a reminder that I'm alone. I groan and get up to clean when I finally take notice of my room. Clothes, fresh or used, thrown across the room, my snacking habits revealed from the countless chip packets, cup ramen and chocolate wrappers. When did my room get like this? When I turn to my desk I see the building pile of used dishes from weeks ago, there was even dust beginning to collect on them. I should clean… 

Finding no motivation to clean, my productive flow was cut off for today. No matter where I looked, there was some sort of reminder of my failures. That feeling in my chest had started to build again so I climbed into bed. Surrounding myself in the only warmth I could accept, I laid there tracing patterns onto the duvet mindlessly. Time ticked away as the warm glow of the evening diminished into darkness. I didn't even move from the bed to turn the light on, the darkness far more comforting. In all that time the only thought through my head was: I'm lonely. 

It was my own fault really, I push everyone away the second I feel bad. I'm too busy drowning in my own pity that I can't help people that need help more. I'm disgusting. Pathetic even. Crying over something I caused myself, over something that could be so easily solved! Even when that painfully obvious truth was there my heart remained shut, not letting in the people most dear to me. 

Another memory began to play in my mind. Stood in my teacher's office. My head was bowed, my eyes focused on the fidgeting of my fingers, as he scolded me over crying about his harsh feed. 'This is life!' and 'Stop being so fragile!' played in my mind. You shouldn't be here. Victor! My gasp slips out as I realise that I'm sobbing, my pillow drenched. I sat up, trying to supress my loud sobs and held my hand against my heart that felt like it was beating out my chest. Stop- Stop, Stop! I begged myself to calm down, feeling that I was losing control on the emotions I reigned in so tightly. 

That night, I cried alone in the darkness of my apartment. Begging for anyone to save me.

After that night I decided to take a sick day, feeling unready to feel the world's cold embrace. Anna had offered to present the report to Victor but I rejected it saying that I could still do it. I picked up my phone, opening my contacts and almost dropped it at the amount of missed calls from Victor. Had I been avoiding him that much? I clicked on his chat to see his messages, all seemingly concerned but who wouldn't worry over their 'investments'? If to borrow a few words from Victor. I was about to click off till Victor's face popped up as a call. Out of habit I picked up instantly, my body responding slowly to my mind screaming no. As I scolded myself mentally, I heard from the CEO after almost 2 weeks. 

"Hello? Are you there?" There was some traffic in the background, he must have been just walking into the office. 

"...Yes-! Hello Sir!" Great response said no-one.

"Sir? I thought I told you to call me Victor. Anyway I decided to call since I've been notified that a certain little idiot is sick." He heard already? I only told Anna… 

"Y-yeah, really sick- You shouldn't worry though!! Only a small hiccup, should be back on my feet tomorrow." I wave my hands around even though he can't see me. There was a pause only hearing the ding of an elevator. 

"I hope it is, business doesn't stop for anyone but… If you need anything at all, just- call me." The way he spoke so tenderly at the end caused my knees to shake and my eyes to well up again. It's there! The hand that I could reach out to…

"Thank you Victor, goodbye." My voice threatened to break as the knot started to tighten again. I couldn't possibly drag him into this mess, drag him into me. The well of tears remained on the edge, threatening to spill as Victor bid his farewell too. I knew there was more he wanted to say but he also knew I didn't want to hear more. When the phone call ended, I dropped back down into my bed and stared up towards the ceiling. What shall I do today? 

The apartment felt too stuffy for me so I decided to take a walk, my legs carried me to the park. Despite it being autumn there were still children running around, jumping into piles of orange leaves or the old man that fed the bird by the fountain. I walked towards the fountain, taking a seat a few spaces away from the man. I had accidentally spooked some of the birds but they settled back down. I had apologised to the man but he laughed and shook his head. 

"You were more cautious of these birds than any busy body in this city." He says gesturing to the few people that sprinted through the park, holding briefcases or speaking rapidly into their phones. That would've been me too… 

"I would've been them on any other day." I force a sad laugh and look up to the sky.

"That's the problem with you young uns, always pushing yerselves too hard. Though I cannot pass judgement, I was the same back in my hay days!" When I finally look back at him, he keeps his eyes trained on the birds he feeds. 

"How did you… escape it?" Was there a way to get out without hurting anyone around me, without burdening them?

"The answer is so simple my dear, find your warm place." My warm place? Where could that be? My eyes catch a scene of a father holding his daughter tightly in his arms as she cries over her scratched knee. My eyes widen as I watch him tickle her, raising her high above his head to bring back the smile on his daughter's face. The man watches with me, his eyes holding the same nostalgia that rings in my heart. 

"And… If your warm space is gone? Then what?" 

"They never leave you. Just as a river never flows the same forever, you can find comfort from elsewhere but that doesn't change the memories of the past. The path it has carved remains." It was true that my father was the only one I could confide in with my emotions. He read me like an open book at times. I used to think it was because dad had a superpower but he always told me 'If I didn't know what my princess was thinking what kind of papa would I be!' Is there anybody that I could trust like that? 

"If you don't mind my asking, what is your warm space?" I turn to the old man and see he's already gone, the birds around still remain undisturbed. I guess that's my time at the park, done. I got up, deciding to stop by convenience store to get some more snacks. What could my space be?

Just like that another month flashes by and the final contracts have been signed. Miracle Finder has gained another 2 investors through LFG. In order to celebrate, Victor had arranged a party to be held. I say party- it was more of a formal ball! When I asked Victor about it he just said his typical response 'This is a networking event, whilst it might be to celebrate the company I hope you don't grow complacent.' UGH! Stupid Victor!! I screamed in my head as I entered the main hall and was instantly submerged into the high class society. The long night of fake smiles had just begun and my mood was just not there. However it felt nice to see my late night studying of the guestlist was paying off. The whole time at the party I felt his eyes on me but he never once approached me. Every time I couldn't look back at them. 

The night was going well but my feeling of dread continued to grow and grow. Not being able to shake it off, my discomfort was apparent enough for Mr Kim to point it out. 

"Are the old men scaring you Miss." He laughs, the group joining in on the laughter. I try to force a laugh, sounding more like a cry for help, I shake my hand. 

"No no! It's not like tha-" I get cut off as the group bursted into laughter and just like that my dream flashes in front of my eyes. The chandelier that hung above us feeling like the spotlight, the men's loud laughter attracting the prying eyes of everyone around. People began to whisper and hiding their smiles behind their hands. They're laughing at me. I bow trying to excuse myself but Mr Kim reaches for my hands. In panic I slapped them away and ran off and I failed to notice the pair of sharp violet filling with rage. 

Cold winter air bit at my cheeks as they glowed red and cooled the warm tears staining them. My mind conjuring up the worst scenarios, adding more straws to the camel's back. I need to regain control- I can't show weakness! If I can't handle this, I'm not worthy for the company. What would dad say? Would he wipe away your tears or try to fight those men. My laughter escapes me when I think of my Dad. 

"Laughing and crying? If anyone saw you they'd think you're insane." That deep voice rang out from the balcony door. I turn around and see Victor walk towards me, his suit jacket hung in his arms. Those words had a teasing tone but his face was tense, jaw clenched and brows furrowed. Without thinking I meet Victor half way, reaching up to soothe his eyebrows. Despite his shock he leaned into my touch, face slowly relaxing into the usual poker face. Even this close I couldn't look him in the eyes. I could feel his search my eyes but I kept mine trained on his tie. With a sigh he takes a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe my eyes softly, the soft material soothing the rough skin. 

"Dummy." Those words caused my dam to burst as I fell into Victor's embrace, crying. He said nothing, holding me tightly till I tired myself out. 

That night I cried in his warm embrace, that protected me from the cold winter's night. 

When my eyes opened I was still on the balcony, laying on the bench covered by Victor's suit jacket. My head was resting on his lap as he looked out at the night view. Still in a tired daze I stare up at his face. The city lights created an orange glow that caressed his face and defined every single one of his perfect features. My eyes trail up his face from his lips to his nose and when they finally reach his eyes, he's looking back. With a gasp I sit up.

"Finally awake? I wasn't expecting you to snore so much." He says, a slight quirk to his lips. 

"I do not snore!" I gasped and hit his shoulder lightly till I realized what I did. When I was going to apologise he rubs where I hit him and frowns. 

"Someone's getting bold lately." His tone was serious but his eyes were nothing but playful. It caused a genuine laugh to bubble out and my cheeks puffed as my smile was pulled widely. When my laughter died down, I realised I was looking Victor in his eyes. Were they his eyes? Instead of the sharp purple blades they were like a soft vortex, swirling with stars and emotion. My words were stolen as I got lost in his galaxy.

"Looking into eyes now?" His voice was soft, practically a whisper but it was the only sound in the frozen night. 

"I- I was so scared." I admit to him. Victor reaches to tuck my hair behind my ears, the simple gesture causing my heart to race. 

"You don't need to fear me. I'm here for you." Those words again, the hand is there again. Tentatively I stretch my arm, placing my hand in his warm palms. In his hands I place my trust. A river never flows the same forever. 

There was a white light shining above me and the brightness pried my eyes open. When my eyes finally adjusted I was standing, surrounded by darkness. But this time was different. In darkness shined a pair of purple eyes, they drew closer to me. My eyes tightened shut as he entered the spotlight. I was terrified, I didn't want to fall again. He wiped the tears that poured down my face and whispered into my ears. 

"Open your eyes." I trusted him. I opened my eyes and the eyes that were cold were illuminated with light. The eyes turned into familiar faces, filled with warmth. 

Anna stood there with a supportive smile. Willow, Kiki and Minor were grinning from ear to ear. It was like a fog being lifted from my mind, I saw everything with new clarity. There was still darkness but never once was I alone. He was always by my side. My eyes snapped open as my phone began to ring. 

Ah! I must've fallen asleep whilst watching TV! I picked up my phone and it was a call from Anna.

"Boss! I sure hope you're ready for the storm coming…" In the background I heard Kiki whine at the comment and Minor cheer excitedly.

"I'm more than ready." I laugh, looking at my cleaned up apartment, not a stray sock or wrapper in sight. Food was cooking in the oven for the home party. The sun shone through the open curtains, its rays falling onto a photo of my father. Beside that was the matching shiba cups I had gotten with Victor.

Everyone faces their own demons, but that doesn't mean you should do it alone. I learnt that the hand wasn't to drag me out of the abyss but to connect our lights and face the dark together. 

[thestralwarfare]

A ramble of sorts.

So if y'all know me, y'all be knowing my mental climate, its not the best, at least not right now it isnt.

I'm at an impasse caught between crossroads that extend, beyond the regular 3d visual and clichè "crossroad".

It's more of reaching the dendrites of a neuron and having to choose which specific synapse to travel across.

Basically, I'm a dumbass, now I know what you're gonna a say, no you aren't blah blah blah. But consider this.

I am.

In the world of humans and social interaction and its evolution to shrinking the world in terms of connectivity and accessibility, we tend to get caught up in the endless spiel or drivel that you have to be readily accessible at all times regardless of who you are and what you do.

I agree with that to an extent, some instances it really is the difference in life or death, so say from the view of medical professionals, asking for help, giving the location of a patient that needs urgent or emergency aid, it's basically paramount now to have it integrated right? Right.

But consider this,

I'm tired, I'm exhausted, I'm in no where emotionally or mentally able to extend myself more than my mind and after basically running that damned event I lost more of my sanity than I thought, I'm finally starting to put the pieces of my mind together and it's like I'm being bombarded with colossal meteors.

As to who or what is rolling out these mental near death blows doesn't negate the fact that I'm not able to deal with it well.

I've gone softer than I was.

I was more resilient than this, I had a heart of glazed glass but now it seems as though life wants to reenter this seemingly inanimate organ.

Why must my heart bleed? The only things that come from my empathy and feelings end up being painful. No one truly knows how to deal with someone with empathy well at least none that I've truly met.

But I try to understand how people won't be able to tell who you are or how your mental state is or how you actually on social media look doesn't reflect the mental load that's on your plate.

We are across screens communicating (mostly) via written words. It's obvious you dont see the panic ridden near corpse of a body that reels out those abysmal hysterical jokes, or the Voldemort under the bench at kings cross station appearance of my heart.

You dont know the human you are dealing with. You dont know how deeply they feel. You dont know who they really are and how they are fighting tooth and nail to stand up for themselves and be strong when all it feels like is a façade to them.

Standing up for myself?- selfishness

Wanting to heal myself (a task that I do all the time because I'm not gonna waste anyone's time)- selfish

Building confidence in myself when I dont know what it feels like- an impossible attempt at grasping the void caught betwixt stars

Loving myself- okay I'm failing at this because I am disgusting etc etc body dysmorphia periodt.

The other things I'm working on deal with anxiety, PTSD etc etc etc thanks for coming to the Ted talk periodt take 2.

No one or maybe very few in this modern age, would truly understand what it is liketo be raised to be a people pleaser, to sacrifice who you are, burn your very essence, your core, lose your path in life to help someone then when it's time for you to finally try to heal yourself. It's as if you are going to a kingdom you called home to find ruins, no familiarity no way or know how of what to fix or where to start from. You just stand there paralyzed with warm piss running down your legs cause you are afraid of what you see or rather, dont see anymore.

On top of thatttt

The people that say they care, developing attachment to them.

"Having to deal with such strong emotions that the smallest feeling of care from someone feels as though they are the only one rooting for you, you begin to idolize them, to need them, to crave them to become dependent on them."- as per the draft of this here post.

One day out of the goddamn blue,

Its night, no twilight, no stars, no moon, no foothold nothing.

It hits. No warning, no flag in the distance heralding its return.

It's a guest I've entertained for decades. Depression.

This time she bought gifts,

- lack of feeling joy in what would normally bring joy to my life such as art or music or anything creative tbh

-apathy, self explanatory but when it hits no one is truly able to understand how deep it cuts the ties that you hold, it takes away more than just the superficial and deep emotions, it takes away your reasoning as to why those emotions were there or if those emotions were even real.

-sui ideation. Self explanatory again but it's never been this strong and I've never had to hold myself back as much as I've had to do these past weeks.

-low mood, if y'all thought my final finals and that thing that happened then had me at my lowest, you would be right, but getting significantly close to that again....it was exhausting having to deal with it.

-low energy and moving slower than before

-change in appetite, from binging to starving myself

Then imagine while having these wonderful events occurring having to take a look at yourself from an outside perspective and seeing what it's doing to them, the people that say they care or have feelings for you.

To feel like you are wasting their life, too feel that whatever you shared is nothing but a farce because no one can truly care for a disaster. Hurricane skinned and magma filled veins.

You see, it doesn't matter what anyone says over the Internet it's hard to ascertain how much someone really means what they intend to say. Communication extends beyond words and people often times tend to forget that.

You can say that you care or that you had feelings, but there was no way to show it.

There is no real reassurance.

What could be better than sinking without dragging others down with you.

My closest friends have suspected something is up, the feel the change in the air as well.

It's like we are all prepping for it.

Will I or won't I?

The urge is there, the pros of it far outweighs the cons.

It's better if everyone that says they care leave.

It's easier that way.

Its always easy to lose the memory of the shape of smoke.

Tl;dr this human has pretty much tied up most if not all loose ends.

Those that care will move on to others, it's the way of life and I harbor no I'll will. I only want the best for everyone always.

Those that dont care, I also want the best for you maybe even more so, because I know your feelings are genuine and never had to second guess it.

To the fam, twas lit, like an atomic bomb.

Let's all be real here no one will miss me.

My fight isnt over, I'm still struggling to survive, as to why I'm even bothering idek anymore.

[mrneighbourlove]

Evil’s Bane: Ch 10. Evil Anew

The World felt out of balance. Leere was so weak, her mind spinning back into consciousness. The first thing she felt was a stinging sensation in her wrists. Her arms were being held up by a chain, with torturous cuffs digging into her wrists to keep her hands together. She could barely have to strength to move her legs. When she did, she discovered that she could, the Mortuus woman felt a draft. Was she naked? She didn’t have her robes. They at least took her coat and shirt off. Maybe her pants were taken too. She was too numb to tell. Even moving slightly, she grimaced at the immediate pain that followed in her wrists. Blood dripped from her fingers to the floor, and Leere finally saw the pentagram that’s surrounded her. “Oh god.”

Looking around her, there were four obelisks, and straight ahead, the Destroyer himself.

"What? Going to call out to my brother now?" Destroyer was occupied finishing the text on the Obelisks for the ritual. His own claws were digging out the symbols from the stone. All this death and decay and he did not even flinch. "Go ahead. Prama's host is rather busy right now, so I highly doubt he'll come running. Though there's plenty of other deities or spirits or whatever you wish to call them to cry to as well. Makes this so much more fun." He then said, "Better yet, why not ask Tzitzmime to have mercy on you? Perhaps he'll be in a good mood today."

“What do you think you’re doing to me?” Leere sounded tired, mostly because she was, but she still had spunk in her voice.

"I'm simply preparing a feast for Tzitzmime." Destroyer answered as his tail then started to draw a line to connect the Obelisks. He walked the pentagram, making sure everything was in place. After this was finished, he could see Kaksa once more. It would be him and her for all eternity. "I have to be a good host now, don't I?"

Leere grimaced, feeling the tattoo on her back vibrate very slowly. “You want to unleash the horror in me, don’t you? Why?” She looked up bitterly into the eyes of the god. “What can you possibly gain from it?”

"I get the pleasure of seeing that snake wail at the realization of he can't save you." Destroyer had a disturbing grin creeping across his visage. "And relish in Prama's failure. The Anagari will come slithering, trying to be your 'knight in scale-covered armor', and risk exposing Prama. When the fool does, I'll be able to rip my brother from the Anagari's body." He held up his razor sharp claws. "Interesting biological component of these Drakkan. They can use the most ancient of all magic... soul magic. Transfer the very essence of a living creature. With the Anagari so weak, I will be able to use this energy I have saved for hundreds of years to end my brother."

Leere felt hope slipping away. Was this the end of her life’s journey? To fail spectacularly?

No.

Even if she was, she wasn’t going to sink into despair. She still had her grit and her spirit. And she wouldn’t die letting him have emotional satisfaction. “Too bad that as a Drakken you look like an ass. Can’t imagine you can get laid either. I mean, it would be the most logical conclusion. You could never get your claws on your precious Kaksa. So why this life too?” When Leere saw him twitch, she smiled evilly best she could. “I bet your brother fucked her good. They were lovers after all. And even as a snake, he’s still a charming lover. I should know. I bet you can’t even pronounce sex you pathetic, little man. Must be why Kaksa didn’t love you. You’re so little.”

Destroyer did not like her speaking of Balance in such a way. No mere human could understand his story. It was just the three of them for eons. She would give her love to Maker and to him equally. Though for the longest time, maybe just a year or maybe a millennium, she did not return to his side and he despaired. What did his brother have that he did not? Was it because he was of the dark? Was all darkness considered bad? No one would ever know or comprehend, even it if would be a relief to share his frustration.

"Insult me all you wish; it will not change your fate. I'm not stupid like my brother. I will not act upon emotions."

“Fool. You might not be emotional, but you are stupid if you think killing me will bring you any closer to your precious Kaksa.”

"Oh, I know it won't. Killing my brother will." Destroyer seemed so bitter towards Maker. "But killing you will be fun."

Now within range of her face, Leere spat a hunk of saliva into his eye. “How’s that for fun?”

"... I was going to start with your finger nails, though I suppose I could begin with a tongue or your eye."

Leere cracked her finger best she could with the cuffs on. “Do your worst.”

Destroyer was by no means ever merciful. He started with Leere's painted finger nails, removing them one by one. Sometimes, on purpose, he'd leave half of a nail and deem he made an error and had to take off the rest as well just to spite her. Then, he worked on her toes. Before long, all of her nails were decorating the floor. When that pain was not enough to rouse the demon from slumber, he decided to try a different type of torment. Over and over, she was made to watch the death of her loved ones.

Every nail broken off was a spurt of blood. Pain became an abundance to Leere. This commodity was fuel to four obelisks in the room, syphoning it from her. When the mental torment of her family came, and in raw creative ways, Leere wanted it to come to an end. Seeing Rinku, Zelda, Covarog, Sunny, and all the others suffer and day was agonizing. “Fuck. You!”

"Seriously, is that the best insult you can do? So often it is used, never followed up on. Not my type, for sure." Destroyer held up a large pair of rusty scissors. "I wonder how much more it will take for you to break."

“You. Can’t. Break me.” Leere was breathing heavily to keep her mind relatively sane.

"Are you sure about that?" Destroyer nearly chuckled at her defiant attitude. "You're not the first that I've tortured and won't be the last. Many of your fellow Mortuus have broken before me. I have pulled horrors that you have never even fathomed from the shadows that my brother tossed aside."

“Vile beast. You lost before for a reason. You will do so again...”

As Destroyer was ready to continue, two robed figures with grey feathery wings floated down next to Leere. Putting two bracelets and a crown of fangs on her, they started to chant an unknown language. The Shadow man whispered gently into the Destroyers ear. “Your brother draws near. You and your minions must stop him and the wrath from interfering. When my other half is freed, my connection to this avatar will be lost. But make no mistake, I am coming here to see my work complete.”

"So… he is coming..." Destroyer sounded most amused. "I was rather uncertain of whether he would or not. Or perhaps, is it the creature that is coming for the 'tiny princess' he holds so dear? Oh well, the snake did try to warn her. Prama probably showed him all of what was to be seen of her fate."

The two-winged cultists started to chant. From outside a dome surrounding Leere, others gathered from Mortuus to monsters chanted in a hellish pray. The bracelets on Leere’s arms sparked on, and the crown on her head sunk into her skull. As Leere was shocked, and the fangs on her head sunk deeper, a terrible scream radiated outwards.

~

A flash of white. Leere was standing in Hryrule field. The sun was shining, but every animal was dead. In front of her the ground opened up. She fell and---

~

A flash of white. Decay and blood poured under her legs with the force of a raging creek. A mirror lying in front of her showed her true reflection. How old she was. As Leere pushed her legs against the blood to be not swept away, she looked closer at a movement behind her. She peered closer to see the blank pale face and the eyes of---

~

A flash of white. A void of emptiness. It was so white. It had no sound, no image, no feeling. In the distance, Leere saw a figure holding themselves close. They were a shaky silhouette. Turning with white eyes, it flickered. Leere’s soul flickered. It was time. It was the end.

~

All over the Tower of Death, Bonegrinder and Black had teleported, hoping to find Leere. However, like a signal bouncing around, they couldn’t lock onto her easily. Just as they were giving up hope, they saw a flashing pillar of blue light. Eager cultists were running forward, and as they stepped into the light, they were flown upwards into a glowing hole in the roof.

"It's started..." Bonegrinder felt a sense of dread tighten in his chest. "We are too late..."

"... is there any chance we can still save her?"

"If the demon doesn't consume her, then perhaps we can. You must be ready to fight."

"I always am."

Behind them, coming out of the wall as if being birthed from it, the Abomination was still giving chase. All six eyes board in on them. They had two choices. Run up the beam, or stay and fight.

"This thing just doesn't give up." Black sounded irritated.

"A Hellspawn of the Second Ring of Hell never stops." Bonegrinder slithered as fast as he could, going up the beam with Black right alongside him. "Personally, he detests the ones of the First Ring the most."

"And that's not a First?"

"No, if a Nameless was here, we'd both be in trouble."

"Hey, I thought you knew all sorts of magic."

"He does."

"So just magic it away."

"Only the one who calls the demon can do that. Or a Summoner."

"... great."

The ‘Angel’ drew close. Its six clawed talons suddenly glew a menacing purple, and it drove them at Black. As one nicked him, a deep sickness flew through the Wrath. Something that shouldn’t be possible was.

It was as if Black was suddenly paralyzed. He could not move and slammed harshly into the ground. Groaning, the Wraith tried to will his body to function, but he could not do so. Even lifting a finger was unsuccessful. As the creature tried to descend upon him, Bonegrinder's huge tail whacked the fiend away. Snarling at the demon, the Anagari maneuvered the Wraith onto his coils, out of harm's way. "You won't interfere." The Anagari curled the tip of his tail around the fiend's ankle and crushed it with a sickening snap. With that, it stopped its movements. For now.

As Bonegrinder and Black flew up the beam, they gave themselves ample time to flee as the Abomination recovered. It was a silent trip up, every second filling with more and more dread. At the top, they found themselves on the outside of a dome. Inside, Leere was floating upwards now. The Obelisk was burning bright with energy. Suddenly, complete nothing filled the ears of all in witness. It was then the Obelisk fired out a beam, killing all the cultists who wished to be sacrificed. Leere was flipped over with her back exposed. The tattoo on her back was glowing, with blood pouring onto the ground below. Outside the dome a whirlwind was starting to storm, red blood sky being torn by the wind. The final step to the ritual began.

Bonegrinder had managed to use a touch of Prama's magic to undo the effect of the fiend's poisoning on Black. The Wraith could now move again, but felt like he was dragging. There was hardly any energy for him to spare. He would be of no use fighting hardly. As the demonic magic started to fill the air, the Anagari nearly panicked. This was not supposed to be happening. He gently set down Black on a high ledge, hopefully to protect him from danger and rushed forward. Slamming his fists on the dome, he repeatedly struck at the structure.

"YOU LET HER GO!!!" He bellowed. "You want this snake!!! Come get him! You leave her out of it!!! Dhakk!!! He knows you hear him!!!"

"Ah, dear brother, you finally arrive to show!" Destroyer was on the other side of the dome completing his work. "A little late, as always, but better than never."

"He is here! You release her! This snake has seen a thousand deaths and he refuses to see another!"

"It seems Prama is still silent? Too cowardly to come and face me?" Destroyer played dumb, tapping his chin with a single finger. "Or perhaps... he's still not at his full power?"

"You are not capable of your full abilities either, Dhakk!" Bonegrinder snapped at him. "That will not happen until the day of prophecy!"

"Oh, you and that stupid prophecy, do you honestly believe Balance will come after Prama? After me? It's nonsense."

"You know she will! She is the Mother Goddess! She will strike down Chaos and restore harmony to the world!"

"Not if I can help it. This world will be consumed by Chaos and with you out of the way, Balance and I can live peacefully without the hassle of meddling affairs of a mortal world in the void."

From outside the dome, waking through the storm, a familiar voice shouted out to them. Sheer-Khan trotted through the bellowing wind, slowly making his way to the Hive leader. “Bonegrinder! We must abandon our station here! Open a portal to Hyrule! We must flee, now!”

"Kit!!!" Bonegrinder was relieved to see that Hades was still here. He had sensed his life was still there, but it was so hard to know for sure in this cursed land. "He is so glad to see you! Please, help him break through! Leere needs us! If the ritual is completed, then Tzitzmime will have another part of his whole joined!"

Lightning crackled, and Hades gently laid a hand on Bonegrinder’s shoulder. “She is lost. But we might be able to rally the rest of Hyrule’s Warriors. You must hurry. You are the only one able to open a portal home.”

"He cannot leave her!!! Don't you understand, Kit?! She's a key! If this is completed, Chaos can take hold of the world before he is scheduled to do so!" Bonegrinder pleaded with Hades. "Help this old snake stop the ritual! There is still time! He can suppress the demon!"

As Bonegrinder turned to break down the dome, Hades grabbed his massive metal club. With a sigh, he swung two critical blows. One strike struck Black. The force of the swing against a body his size made him fly high into the storm as if he was nothing more than an ace in the hole. The second blow was brought down on Bonegrinder’s head, caving in his skull, his brain, and his spinal cord. The concentrated explosion tore down the rest of his nerves along his massive coil. Hades sighed, carefully holding down Bonegrinder’s body. “.... You forced my hand. You stupid bastard. I didn’t want it to come to this. You should have listened to your heart and never should have come here. Now I have to play this disgusting role to its fullest depravity.”

Black had tried to rush forward to save Bonegrinder but Hades had swatted him away. The storm picked up the Wraith and threw him around, but he was still conscious. Finally, Black was able to grab onto a tower's spire and managed to climb inside. He was still here. He would find his way back to his master.

Bonegrinder, however, was out cold. Not moving. But still alive due to the deity inside of him.

“I know you can hear me, you wretched god. This is your doing. You denied me my most simple request. You brought my friend here. You allowed the gods and goddesses to fall out of Balance. My friend could have waited in the Hive while the world was recreated in blissful ignorance. But no. Now I must ensure he stays down for this.” Leere gurgled, a small cry leaving her throat, the Obelisk shining a light on her. Great new lengths had been taken to bring new conditions for the ritual, but it was finally done.

Bonegrinder was a creature of magic and violence when he desired. Sometimes, mere mistaken words or a careless action might agitate him into a rage. Many thought it was due to his split personality. The Anagari showed the side of his usual self, 'Modoc', and then other times, the true, cruel nature of 'Bonegrinder'. Yet, those who knew him throughout the years, had learned that he was one not to mess with or else there would be consequences. There was very little patience in the Anagari except for those he held dear.

Prama, for all his glory and splendor, had no patience. With Bonegrinder's mind silent from the blow to the head, the deity took over his host's body. The divinity inside of him was much stronger and could use his strength through the Anagari's body... but with some consequences for his host later. It was not an action he did often. Those large coils curled around Hades' body and one large hand snatched at the Lynel's throat. "Treacherous creature..." Prama's voice held no love for the creation of Dhakk. In full control, the Anagari's body was radiating powerful celestial magic, floating in particles around the snake. His eyes were glowing white, narrowed and angry. He always thought Lynels were rather haughty. And then one made the mistake of striking his host. "I will scald you into ash."

Hades opened his mouth, blasting the god in the face. His arms still free to move, he brought the power down on the body once more. “You could have resurrected my species! Instead you told me that they should stay dead. A being of creation too spineless to create! You should never have inhabited Modoc’s body!”

Squeezing tighter and tighter with the Anagari's coils, Prama did not let go. The deity did not feel pain. This was not his true body. His magic kept healing the damage. Returning a blow of his own to Hades' face, he kept repeating the same move, punch after strike after blow. "All things come to an end, and my brother is the one who decides that." Prama spat at Hades. "If you're angry about it, argue with him, not me. You should be grateful that the snake took you in, looked after you. Who else would have done so with a despicable species such as yourself?"

“You brought all his pain upon him. You... you alone.” Unlike the god, Sheer-Khan could not regenerate. The feline’s face looked like a tumour by the time that Prama was done. “Modoc would have... helped me. Now watch as you fail....” Before the Lynel went limp, he pointed to Leere.

~

Agony and suffering radiated through every nerve of Leere. Chanting echoed in the chamber, and brimstone sizzled from her back. With an explosion of blood and flesh, Leere’s eyes rolled back. From the pentagram on her back, something crawled out. The moment it did, two things happened. The night sky itself cracked open, bleeding the heavens. The second was that the sail of a baby rang out to all who heard it. As Leere fell to the ground, a little pinkish piece of flesh crawled on the ground. It had the upper body of a baby with its eyes sewn shut. Its lower body was a slug, flapping back and forth like a fish out of water. Every wail was cosmic torture to the ears. Schwanz des Teufels: Tyrannin was reborn into the mortal world.

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/626630162211028992/evils-bane-ch-9-everyone-has-something-to-lose

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/626632248299536384/evils-bane-ch-11-rage-against-the-dying-of-the