#chanting over and over again to myself like a crazed person

[sunnybunnybabs]

FTFO chapter 40, spoilers

HOW IS EVERYONE DOING ON THIS FINE DAY gonna throw up

From themoment I read the title I

I just knew

I'm so glad Nightmare has been saved n the OT has been repaired!!!

YELLING AND SOBBING WHATTHHEFUCK WAHSSTHATH ENDJINGG

ImgonnaSCREAMandSOBandCRYandTHROWUP I'm shAKING as I type this WHATTHEFUCJ

When I SAID INK WAS GONNA LOSE A LEG FROM THE BOMB THIS WAS NOT WHAT I WAS ENVISIONING WHAT TNE H FCUK

DEATH GRIP ON THE NO MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS THIS IS THE ONLY THING KEEPING ME GOING RN WHAYTHE HOLTSHIT

IwANTXGASTEE DEAADDDDD I WANT HI M DEAD AND GONNNNEDEAAAADDDD

[siena-sevenwits]

I worked for four seasons at an outdoor living history museum.

I once locked three boys in a historic jail cell to show them how the mechanism worked, believing I knew how to open it again. I didn’t – and neither did anyone else in the building. I have put out three fires while clad head to toe in historic pioneer clothing -and one of those fires was a piece of artifact furniture I accidentally set alight myself! I once got trapped for half an hour under a stairwell because I was the wrong time period and couldn’t let the visitors see me.

I have fielded every unexpected question under the sun without dropping character – “Are those real horses pulling the wagon rides, or are they fake?” “Ha – you expect me to believe they had photography in the 1920’s?” “If Jesus is God but his mother is Mary, how can God have a mother? And why did he need to become human? And why did he need to die?” (Awesome questions, child – just not what I was expecting while interpreting a pioneer railroad townsite!) And I’ve enjoyed every kind of visitor under the sun – those who are there to try to trip your up and prove you don’t live in 1895, those who want to be your character’s best friend and ask you soul searching questions and won’t leave your living room for an hour because they are loving the conversation so much (I love you, visitors of this kind), explorers who want to know what beneath every trapdoor and inside every cupboard (I love you too!) people who turn out to be the great grandchildren of the character you’re playing, photography enthusiasts, people who don’t really want to you to talk, but just make them feel that they’re welcome to keep looking around without feeling awkward about it, experts who know far more on the subject you’re interpreting then you do (who are extremely daunting when you realize what they are, but who usually turn out to be kind and lovely,) and, of course, the people who poke their head in the door, say “Hm, it’s an old police station,” and immediately move on.

I have taught people to operate telegraphs, to make chickens come on command, to foxtrot and charleston, to pinch pyrohy (you may call them perogies!) to sing ancient chants, folk songs, and early twentieth century musical hits, to play card games with dubious names in Eastern European languages, to build the historic equivalent of hobbit holes, and so much more.

I have gotten to the end of a day absolutely soaked and covered with mud from washing laundry the old fashioned with literally 2,000 children, internally swearing that I will never work this job again, and wandered over exhausted to another interpreter’s historic kitchen, where the fire is crackling in the stove and rhubarb pie has just come out of the oven. And they tell about how they just helped 2,000 children cut out paper dolls from the Eton’s catalogue and they never want to touch another piece of paper again. And we eat the pie and tell the stories of the day, and stop complaining, and laugh our heads off over the hilarious moments, and play a round of that ancient Egyptian game there was a craze for after King Tut’s tomb was opened (because if anyone walks in, it won’t matter, because the game is historic) and have a blast until it’s time to give the house a last sweep and clean out the ash drawer in the stove and walk to the train platform where the other historic interpreters are gathering to walk offsite together over the beautiful land bridge across the lake. And by then I’ve completely forgotten I’m all wet, and am certain I have the best job in the world. I mean, I get to wash laundry the old fashioned way with 2,000 children!

Someone asked me to share a bit about what it’s like to be a first person living history interpreter at a museum. There’s much, much more to it than I think people assume on the surface, and the techniques are extremely different depending on the philosophies and practices of the site you’re working at. I want to give you a little window into what my experience was like – tell you some stories, reveal some things that might surprise you, give you weird tips you’ll probably never use but might enjoy knowing. I don’t mean to do this on any kind of schedule, but if people enjoy it, I love talking about it. If you have questions, my asks don’t work, but you’re welcome to message me or leave a comment!

Net time, I am going to talk about the crazy behind the scenes world of what we did in the three weeks before we even opened our museum for the summer season.

[missbrightsky]

On My Honor

Fics Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Chapter 6: Feyre

“Flynn Archeron reporting for duty, sir,” I stood at rapt attention, trying not to make eye contact with the blond man in front of me. Pine green eyes swept up and down my form; harsh, critical, assessing.

My poor body pumped out even more adrenaline, I’ve got to run out at some point… I snapped off that train of thought as Lieutenant Verdant’s mouth opened.

“How old are you, boy?” his voice drawing my eyes to his unwillingly.

“Eighteen, sir,” I answered.

“Humph,” he grunted, jotting down my name on his list. “You’ve even been in a fight before?”

“No… well, there was one time my arrow didn’t kill a raccoon immediately and I had to pin it to finish the job,” shut you fucking mouth, Feyre, why the fuck are you rambling to your officer about a raccoon you killed.

Tamlin only lifting an eyebrow at the story. I guess he dealt with enough new recruits to know that they tended to talk when they’re nervous. “So you can shoot?”

“Yes sir,” I said, “Usually pretty accurate or my family doesn’t eat.”

“Any experience with a sword?”

“No, sir.”

“Very well. Training starts tomorrow at dawn, you’ll be sharing a tent with Alex.” He pointed me in the direction of my new home for the next several weeks.

You’ll be sharing a tent with Alex, echoed in my mind. Well, if that doesn’t add another layer to my problems.

There was no room for argument on his face so I had no other choice than to follow his finger and go meet my new tentmate. I trudged over to the small structure. It looked to be standard military issue, several more like it nearby. Unadorned white canvas hung over a frame of poles. Simple and easily transportable. And small. So, so small with no room to hide.

Fucking hell, Feyre, what have you done, I said to myself for the millionth time. Looks like that mantra wasn’t going away anytime soon.

Pushing the flap aside, I ducked in, trying to survey the person inside as quickly as possible.

In the dim light, brown skin soaked up the ray of sun coming into the tent. A man who looked more like a boy sat on his bedroll reading a small book. He looked up when I entered, narrowing his eyes against the sudden light.

I warily stepped in, mentally running through all the characteristics of what I thought a man would do and act like.

“Hi,” I said lamely, trying to pitch my voice low, “I’m Flynn.” The effect of the voice was lost by me having to hunch over to avoid hitting the pole that spanned the length of the tent.

The boy/man looked at me and burst out laughing causing my face and ears to burn red. “Nice try,” he managed to say between chuckles, “but you look the same age as me and my voice is nowhere near to that low.”

I looked to the ground, cursing at my failed attempt.

“Aw don’t look so sad, I was only teasing,” he put his book on his pillow and reached out a hand to shake mine. I dropped my sack at the end of the bedroll that was waiting for me and grasped his hand. Calluses brushed up against mine, another person who was used to work.

“I’m Alex,” he introduced himself, giving me an apologetic smile.

I let myself return it with a small smile of my own. “I know, Lieutenant Verdant said we were to share a tent.”

“Fine by me, but my opinion doesn’t matter. He doesn’t look like a guy I would want to get into an argument with.”

“You’ve got that right,” I blurted. It was probably a bad idea to criticize my commanding officer to another who was under him. To my relief, Alex let out another laugh, agreeing with my tone.

I took the opportunity to sit on the bedroll and sort through my bag.

“So where are you from, Flynn?” the question came.

“Couple of days east of here, a small town that no one knows,” it was already easy to chat with Alex. A few days alone on the road loosened my tongue. “And you?”

“Couple of days south of here, a small town that no one knows,” he echoed my words, bringing another smile to my lips. If I had to share a tent with someone, at least it was someone who was easy to get along with. If I didn’t have to worry about letting who I was slip at any moment, Alex and I would have no problems becoming fast friends. I briefly wondered what would happen if he found out, but I shut that line of thought down. Thinking about it would only distract me from keeping up the ruse.

We fell into easy chatter about our lives back home. He was the fifth of seven children, the fourth boy of the family. They were farmers, corn mostly but his youngest sister loved gardening. Him mentioning that made me bring up Elain and how she loved her garden and flowers. I nearly slipped once or twice but recovered easily, I was getting used to the speech pattern of men and how to pitch my voice into a necessary range.

Outside, I could hear more soldiers pour in and walk by. Snippets of conversation floated in the air, men from all over answering the conscription notices of General Knight. There would be no training tonight, allowing those arriving one evening of rest before starting.

It had been midafternoon when first enter the camp. Alex and I had talked long enough that it had become early evening. The dinner bell rang out across the tents and our stomachs growled in response. We both stood to go answer it.

“You can take off your armor, you must be dying in it. No one will attack here,” Alex pointed out.

“Uhhhhhhh,” I drew out, sounding like an idiot. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I mumbled. I prayed to my ancestors that I could still pass as a boy without the chest plate.

Unbuckling the straps, I slowly slung off the plate and greaves, placing them on my bedroll. I stood and pulled back the tent flap to join Alex where he had stepped outside, chanting a string of half-forgotten prayers. He barely glanced in my direction and started off towards where others were gathering.

Whew. I had also added extra padding to my sides to try and get rid of my curves and it seemed to be working. Dinner would be one more massive test to pass before the day was done.

Alex remained oblivious to my fear and secret, starting up a new conversation of what would be for dinner and what training might be like tomorrow. Bodies streamed in from all directions. This section of the camp seemed to be just for new recruits, fresh faces like mine and Alex’s. Most seemed to be about our age, but there were a few that had their age carved into their face or sprinkled on their hair.

Father, brothers, husbands, everyone has a family that they might never see again. The thought pulled my mind down, down, down, the reality of my situation finally settling in. I wasn’t a girl that had run away from home. I was a soldier in the Imperial army, being trained in combat to be sent to the front to fight and probably die.

Some faces reflected my thoughts, those that knew they will most likely meet their ancestors soon. Others were open and happy, shouting greetings and jokes. Alex hadn’t yet seen my face, giving me time to pull myself out of the dark hole I had fallen into. When he turned back to me, I had hopefully rearranged it into something that resembled the ease of before.

Dinner was a slop of mush onto a dinged-up metal plate with an equally dinged up cup of water and a metal spoon. However, despite its appearance, the mush was surprisingly palatable with a chunk of meat or two hidden in it. Probably a delicacy compared to the food at the front.

I let Alex take the lead as he searched for a fire for us to sit around. Close to where our tent was, he chose a half-full ring of men, taking a seat on one of the logs there with a ‘hello’. A chorus of hellos rang back, as much as permission to sit we’ll get.

In the firelight, more young faces like ours glowed. Introductions were made and I forgot about half of them immediately. I knew the golden-haired one to my left was Will, easy to remember with his missing ear.

“Half crazed wolf tore it right off when I was seven. Killed it myself as retribution,” he declared. A cry of disbelief and jeering rose up in response, calling bullshit on his story.

Elijah right across from me had the most expressive face I had ever seen, seldom without a smile or frown or emotion of his making. His booming voice, deceptive for how young he looked, captured everyone’s attention. His brown eyes were filled with mischief and energy.

Adam was his polar opposite. The only man of the group, he spent the dinner in silence, only answering when spoken to. Even Elijah’s raunchiest stories couldn’t draw a chuckle out of him. But even with his silent demeanor, there was nothing aggressive or rude about him, he was just quiet, content to let the conversation wash over him.

All around the fire were also beneath Tamlin’s command. Alex shared his opinion of him and was met with confirmation. The others had arrived either yesterday or the day before. Tamlin Verdant was a hard bastard who took no excuses and, indeed, was not someone you would want to get in an argument with.

Plates cleared and returned to the kitchen tent, we chatted until the sky deepened from purple into black, the stars overhead watching the new recruits begin to form relationships that could save their lives on the battlefield.

Next Chapter

[demonictransformation]

genya x reader

Trigger warning: injuries, tiny blood mention, swearing, reader is a crybaby lol

At that moment, the Butterfly Estate seemed to be huge. The door took forever to open, and the dimly lit corridors felt never ending. I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts; my heart was way too loud, beating so wildly against my chest it felt like my ribs could snap at any moment.

“Genya, Genya.” All I could do was whisper his name like a chant as Aoi opened the door to the infirmary with a serious look on her young face. Sure enough, there he was; laying down on a bed that seemed a little too small for his frame, his body covered in sweat, fists tightly clenched. He turned to face me when I walked through the door, my face immediately dropping. He looked like he was in pain.

“Genya.” I cried again, hurrying to his side. My hand found its way to his sweat soaked hair, which I carefully moved away from his face. He must’ve been feeling seriously sick, allowing me to touch him like that; at any other time, I would’ve probably been slapped away. He remained quiet, no longer looking at me.

“I was so worried about you! One moment you were fighting next to me and the next thing I know, you’re going berserk like that!”

Aoi left a pot filled with cold water and a cloth on the bedside table next to me before exiting the room, knowing I’d take care of him without skipping a beat. I rapidly wetted the cloth, wringed and folded it before placing it on his forehead.

“Th-they say you tried to eat one of them.” I murmured. It was true, I had seen it with my own two eyes. But I refused to believe he’d do something like that, no matter how hard things were. I had fainted no more than five minutes later, when the water and bug Pillars arrived to help us with a particularly aggressive demon that had been terrorizing a small rural town.

“…I just wanted to get stronger.” He finally broke the silence. Tears filled my eyes again at his confession. I was so scared for him; not only had we taken a serious ass beating, but he had consumed part of a demon and, according to what I was told after waking up at Oyakata sama’s estate, he had momentarily acquired abilities similar to those of a monster. I had seen it for a second, his black eyes, sharp fangs and crazed expression, like he was out of himself.    

“But you’re so strong already…”

“Just what are you talking about?!” He interrupted me, raising his voice loud enough to be heard all around the estate. “I cant even use any breath, and I’m such a shitty  swordsman I have to relay on a stupid gun! How the fuck am I supposed to become a Pillar like this?!”

“M-maybe you don’t need to become a pillar.” I mumbled. If looks could kill, the one Genya shot me at that time would’ve sent me flying over the Sanzu River. His bloodshot eyes sent a shiver down my spine; I had never seen him so angry before, not even during the countless missions we’d taken together.

“I don’t need to become a Pillar?” He asked bitterly. “I’m never going to be accepted by my brother if I don’t! Of course I don’t expect you to understand how I feel though, Miss (preferred breath style).”

His words hurt me like knives; deep down I knew it wasn’t really him talking, his emotions were taking over him, thoughts of anger, self depreciation and guilt taking its tall on the scarred demon slayer. But damn did it hurt to hear such things coming from the person I loved the most.

“Tell me then! I’m just trying to help!” I realized I was starting to get angry too.

“You wanna help? Just stop pretending like you care about me, damn it.” He spat, taking the cloth away from his forehead and throwing it against the wooden floor with so much strength for a moment I feared he’d break it.

“Why are you being so mean? Would I be here if I didn’t care, Genya?”

His lower lip trembled for a moment, but his furious expression didn’t change.

“Quit acting like you fucking know me. You don’t know shit”

“Just stop being an asshole and admit you made a mistake!” I yelled before I could control myself. “I know you’re in pain! I know you’re suffering and scared! But you don’t have to go through that alone! Why can’t you see how much I love you?!” I sobbed, covering my face with my hands.

“(Y/n) …” He whispered.

A moment after that, a pair of strong arms was wrapped around my body. His hand, callous yet gentle, caressed my head as I hid my face in the crook of his neck, my shoulders shaking as I cried.

“I was terrified, I thought they had turned you into one of them.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He kept repeating as he held me tightly against his body.

“Even if you are special and can absorb them like that, do you have any idea of what that could do to your body?”

“… I wanted to protect you.”

I looked up to meet his eyes; he was blushing. I pressed my forehead against his, closing my eyes.

“Don’t put yourself at risk for me, dummy.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” He barked. “I was kind of freaking out, okay?”

“Thank you” I chuckled, my tears long forgotten by this point. “Maybe when your body gets better… we can go see Oyakata sama, tell him about your new skill. I’m sure it’ll be of great use for him.”

“Really?”

“Of course, I’ve never seen anything like that before. Definitely a skill for a pillar” I opened my eyes and smiled at his surprised face. I brought my hand up to his face and rubbed the dry blood off the corner of his mouth. “C’mon now, get back to bed. Aoi will kill me if she finds out I let you up.”

He laid down again, dragging me with him. The bed, that was already small for him, felt tiny for both of us. Our bodies were entwined in a mess of sheets and limbs, my head resting on his chest as his arms still enveloped my form. After a couple minutes of comfortable silence, Genya called my name.

“(Y/n)?”

“Yes?”

“… I love you too.”

“Thank you, my Pillar.”

He reached down to kiss my forehead delicately, and my hand looked for his in the dark. He quickly locked his fingers with mine. I ended up falling asleep surrounded by his warmth, feeling his chest go up and down with every breath he took, and his heartbeat matching mine.Needless to say, Aoi wasn’t happy when she found us the next morning.

Author’s note: hey hey hey! Candy here again! What do you guys think about my first drabble? Of course it was going to be an angsty Genya one. Just a lil comment tho, I don’t really know much about the situation in which Genya found out about his ability, so I kinda just made some stuff up lol. Also, I feel like he’s a bit ooc here oops. Requests are open so hmu!

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Mother dragon (13); Winchester brothers x reader

*Author’s note*

Boy oh boy do I got some news for you all. Yesterday I took the time after having thanksgiving lunch/dinner, and I finished this chapter from start to finish. Which means now that this chapter is done, I can post up the remaining two chapters that I’ve had done for months now. So that means this story is finally complete and will come to an end today. I hope you all enjoy the final binge reading. Cause since I’ve managed to update so much throughout this break, I’m gonna hold off on updates till I finish everything school related.

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@platawnic

@deanscroissant

@onebigfangirlworld

@izzyisavengersupernaturaltrash

_______________________________________________________

By mid-morning, we finally arrived back at the den. Deacy phased back into his human form as I was clinging onto his back feeling my vision going in and out once again.

“Deacy—why?”

“Be thankful that Warren came back and got us when he did. Now why the hell would you sacrifice yourself like that? Percy could’ve killed you!” oh great now I’m getting the parental lecture from my own son.

I was then set down onto the floor and Deacy turned around and gripped my arms as he snapped at me again.

“Why would you foolishly use yourself as bait and be sent over to Percy!? Are you really that stupid mum!?”

“Hey I was trying to save your Beta. Would you rather have him be dead than—” suddenly I felt faint and began falling forward.  Then from anger to worry, Deacy’s whole demeanor changed as he began to cry out.

“Mum? Mum! What’s…..what’s wrong mum?”

“She’s been injected with acid venom.” I heard Cas’ voice say.  I felt Stephen’s hands come up and brush the hair away from my neck and he said.

“He’s right. That’s definitely acid venom. Kisara and I need to drain the venom out before there’s any further damage done to her.” I was then picked up bridal style and once again I felt myself flying up into the sky.

*3rd Person POV*

“I’ll get Kisara.” Apophis stated he took off flying to find his mate and tell her about their midwife mother dragon.  Deacy just stared up in absolute horror said.

“If anything happens to her I’ll—”

“Hey Deacon, relax. She’ll be okay. If she’s somehow managed to survive being injected for this long, she may pull through.” Sam assured him as he placed a comforting hand on the Alpha dragon’s shoulder.

“Yeah. She’s been attacked by a pack of Vetalas, vamps, werewolves, being possessed by a demon, dick angels and even the crazed human now and again.” Deacon turned towards him with a look that said ‘is this supposed to make me feel better?’ while Sam looked at his brother with a ‘really?’ look.

“What Dean’s trying to say is…..she’s a tough girl. She’ll be okay.”

“But this is impossible to begin with. I’ve seen dragons die with just a scratch of acid spitter venom. It’s almost equivalent to a black mamba’s. If she hadn’t died yet, I fear what has and will happen to her.”

Up in the healing wing, both Kisara and Stephen worked together in making a concoction as well as ‘anti-venom’ of sorts to try and counteract the venom she’s probably been exposed to.

“And you guys said she was still able to function?” asked Kisara as she prepped the potion.

“Yes. It’s—it’s almost a miracle on how she’s managed to survive. Based on the rash that’s already on her neck, it looks like she’s been injected more than once. I—I honestly don’t know if this’ll work.”

“It’s got to though, or at least we have to try. For our alpha’s sake.”

“Right, right, is the anti-venom ready yet?”

“Yeah, where do you want me to inject her?”

“It’s best if it’s at the source. So right here 4 inches above her main vein artery in her neck.” Stephen said as he placed the final piece, a lock of (y/n)’s hair into a hex bag to prepare the spell that would help the healing process go faster.  Kisara walked over to (y/n)’s unconscious body and kneeled down beside her.

“I’m sorry mother dragon.” She whispered.  She then injected the serum into her neck and the second the needle went away, Stephen took over and placed the hex bag near her and began to chant a healing incantation in old Norwegian tongue.

The rash around (y/n)’s neck began to glow a bright green.  Kisara kept a watchful eye on (y/n) as Stephen’s got faster and more intense as he repeated the same chant over and over again.  Then after Stephen ceased the chanting, (y/n) shot up gasping for air.

*My POV*

I woke up with a start and I saw Kisara and Stephen sitting over me.

“Easy (y/n), easy. It’s okay. It’s okay.” Kisara assured me.  I looked up at her and said.

“What happened?”

“You passed out from the acid spitter venom. Stephen and I tried to help cure you of the venom.”

“Did it work?”

“We’ll see. I mean—after all you are the only person to survive acid spitter venom. Anyone and anything that gets exposed to venom like that falls down dead within minutes. And to a human it should’ve killed you instantly.”

“Stephen don’t scare the poor woman.” Kisara hissed. She turned back towards me and said, “I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’m just happy they brought you back from Percy’s alive.” She hugged me and I hugged her back.

A knock was soon heard at the door and Stephen went up to thee door and opened it to reveal the guys as well as Apophis, Warren and Deacon.

“How is she?” asked Sam.

“Why don’t you come and see for yourself Winchester?” the three of them immediately came in and Sam was the first one to approach me.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I think so. I mean I don’t feel as tired as I have been the past 24 hours.” He sighed in relief and was the first one to hug me.  I rubbed his arm and that’s when Cas came up next and hugged me back.

“I thought we’d lost you.”

“Sorry to worry you Cas. But you of all people should know it’s hard to keep me dead.”

“Even I know that. A true Winchester even though you’re not one by blood.” Said Dean as he ruffled my hair and was the last one to embrace me.

“You sure you’re okay?” asked Apophis.  Dean separated from me and I turned towards the Egyptian dragon and said.

“Yeah. I mean like I said at least I don’t feel as shitty as I have been back with Percy.” I then turned to Deacon who looked like he had something on his mind. “Deacy? You okay sweetie?” he turned towards me and came up to me.  He knelt down and placed his forehead to my lap.

“I’m sorry mum. I’m so—so sorry.” I stroked my hand through his hair and said assuringly and motherly.

“It’s okay. I’m here Deacy. You know that it takes more than venom to take down your mother, huh?” he looked up at me, tears brimming in his eyes.

“I just—when I was told that you had been taken to Percy I just…..I was so afraid at what he’d do to you. Or that he—already had killed you had he found out who you really were.”

“Well he tried to find out, but I didn’t squeal about our relationship.”

“Yeah just told him about us.” piped in Dean.

“I was drugged so watch it Dean.” I warned him with a sharp look before turning back to Deacon.  “I promise Deacy, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You really mean that?”

“Yes. Consider it a mother’s promise.” He smiled softly.

“You’ve been so kind to me mum, better than any human has been to me in years.”

At that moment, a portal opened up at the side of the healing wing and the next thing I saw, Warren’s tail tossed Sam, Dean and Cas through the portal.

“But as long as Percy’s alive, he’s still a threat to you. It pains me to say this but (y/n) (l/n). As the Alpha dragon I forbid you from coming back to this sanctuary until Percy is either dead, or I am.”

“Whoa-whoa, wait no Deacon what are you doing?!” he picked me up and took me towards the portal.

“I can’t risk your life again. I’ve already lost one mum and I can’t afford to lose another one. Just know that I will always love you.” He then tossed me through the portal and I landed on the other side of it.

“No!” but before I could take another step, the portal disappeared.  “No. No. No, no, no, no! No! No! NOOO!!!” I screamed as I pounded on the ground.

“That sneaky son of a—”

“Dean.” Sam said stopping his brother from finishing that statement.  I felt Cas’ hands on my shoulders and I sobbed out.

“How could he?”

“He must’ve thought this was the best for you. Just like you’ve done for him.” I lowered my head and allowed a couple of tears to fall from my face.

*3rd Person POV*

Everyone but Kisara wore a face of shock.

“Deacon how—how could you?”

“Kisara.” Apophis stopped her.  With eyes filled with regret, Deacon immediately turned away and walked out of the healing wing.

“Why did you boys agree to this? What the hell were you three thinking?”

“She was captured by Percy Kisara. Deacon knew that even if he got a vow from Percy to not touch or harm her, he’d still do it. Even if she were the Alpha’s mother.” Warren stated.

“That makes her more of a target than even Deacon. He told us that once we got her back, it was best to send her home. Because not even someone like Percy would know where the Men of Letter’s American bunker could be at.” Apophis said.

“Because they have various abandoned bunkers and locations. It’s—it’s what’s best for them.” Stephen finished as he began to clean up his station.  With nothing but silence in the room, Warren was the first to leave, followed by Apophis and finally Kisara.

Stephen sighed heavily and turned to where he just had the portal opened a second ago before whispering.

“I’m sorry (y/n).”

*My POV*

After pulling myself together and the four of us walking ahead, it turned out that Deacon had ordered Stephen to take us back to the bunker.  We entered inside and all was quiet with Deacon now gone.

Of course I immediately left the guys and went to be by myself.  I showered and cleaned myself up as well as ease all the bruises that I probably had not just from the torture but also the dragon training I had been doing.  

As I stared at myself in my black robe with a towel over my head, I just stared at myself through the mirror.  I swished across my mirror to rid of the misty heat that got onto the mirror and couldn’t believe what my son had just done.

He actually played me like a fiddle and now he’s forbidden me from going to him until either Percy is dead or until he’s dead. I can’t believe he’d do that to me, how could he do that to me?

I removed my towel which allowed my hair to collapse and as I began to brush through it, something caught my eye.  I narrowed my eyes and hopped up onto my sink and turned my head to the left and noticed something at the back of my neck starting from behind my earlobe.

It was a small scar about 4-5 inches that looked like a small incision.

“Sam!” I cried out.

Now dressed I was sitting in the map room while Sam looked over the incision on the back of my neck.

“Yeah this—this is definitely too shallow to be a dragon cut. And you’re sure you don’t remember getting nicked when you fell down the hole with Warren?”

“I swear all that happened to me was just bruising on my back. There wasn’t any twigs or branches in the trap, it was all dirt and soil.”

“Okay. Well then, are you sure you want me to cut it open?”

“Call me paranoid or just seen too many spy movies, but I need to know exactly what Percy might’ve done to me while I was high off acid venom.” He took out his scalpel and handed me one of my belts.

I placed the belt in my mouth and took a deep inhale in before exhaling out.  I nodded to him and he nodded back before beginning to slowly cut down the incision. I let out a growl and breathed harshly and heavily as he trailed downwards.

“Hey Sammy, I’m running out to—what the hell is going on here!?”

“Dean what the hell?! You’re lucky I had to take the blade away from her otherwise I could’ve killed her.” Sam snapped.

“Sam what exactly are you doing?” Cas said as he came to us.

“(Y/n) found a stitched up incision on her neck. She believe Percy might’ve done something to her while she was drugged.” I looked at the other two as I breathed harshly trying to recover from the pain of having a blade cut through my skin.

“What do you think he did to you?” asked Dean.

“She thinks she might be bugged or something.”

“What you mean like chipped?”

“Yeah.” Dean and Cas looked to me and Dean said.

“(N/n), not to say I don’t believe you but don’t you think you’re being a little too paranoid.” I took the belt out of my mouth and said.

“No Dean. Based on what I’ve been told about him, never would he just let us go like that. It can’t be just because I’m the Alpha’s mother. He’s planning something, but I don’t know what. Cause the Parents of the alpha to dragons are revered more than the Alpha themselves, if Percy knew that I would be worth more than Deacy and the entire nest combined.”

“It struck me as suspicious too. A revered dragon trapper such as himself would never let go of his prey. Nor anyone who has tried to stop him. So why us?” Cas added in.

“Okay so, shall I continue?” asked Sam as he held up his scalpel again.  I nodded and put my belt back in my mouth.

“Hold on (y/n).” Cas came up to me and placed his fingers to my forehead and instead of passing out, I felt a little numb. He also took the belt out of my mouth and he said to Sam “Okay Sam, now do it.”

“Cas are you—”

“It’s alright Dean. I’ve just made her numb to the blade. She can’t feel it.” As Sam placed the blade back to my neck and continued the downward cut, turns out Cas was right.  I was completely numb to the pain of the blade, I could feel myself being cut but I wasn’t in pain.

Once he was done, he put it down then took out two pairs of tweezers and used one to open the flab of my skin while he used the other one to dig around.

It wasn’t long however when he pulled something out and to my worst nightmare, it was what I feared it was.

Percy had bugged me with a tracker.

As Cas healed up my mini-surgery and I picked up the tracker, my heart dropped.

“Is that—” started Dean.

“A tracker. He—oh god he knows.” I sat up in a panic. “he knows where the nest is. He knows exactly where we went and he knew Deacon would probably send us home. They’re defenseless. He’ll take them all, we’ve—we’ve gotta help him!” But before I could race off back to my room, Sam stopped me and said.

“Hang on (y/n). We—we don’t know what exactly we’ll be up against. We need to—rationalize before we run head first.”

“Rationalize? Sam by the time we do, Percy will have taken them all hostage. He’ll kill every single one of them. The dragonlings, the females, Kisara who is pregnant in case you have forgotten. And sell them off or worse mount their heads like trophies!”

“So—what you’re ultimately suggesting is that we just run in head first into a battle with probably hundreds of dragon hunters and trappers, those acid spitting sons of bitches and Captain Hook?” asked Dean.

The two of us stared each other down.  At this point I thought we were about to go toe to toe once again about helping my son who is a dragon and he having a beef with helping monsters.

But I was surprised at what Dean said next.

“I like those odds.”

“What now?” I asked confused.

“I mean hell we’ve been through worse situations than this. Plus no one bugs my sister but me.” I narrowed my eyes at him but I couldn’t help but smile at the fact that he was willing to help.

“The dragons have done much for us, the least we can do is help them. Whether the Alpha wants it or not.” Said Cas.  Sam looked at us like we were crazy but one look from me and he said with a sigh.

“Well there’s nothing I can say to change your mind is there?” I shook my head no. “Alright we’ll do it. But just one thing; how are we gonna get back to England fast enough?”

“I have a few ideas.” I said with a smirk.

[cryoculus]

Heaven in Hiding

Pairing: Tendou Satori/Reader Setting: Sixteenth-century Japan Word Count: 3,725  Cross-posted from AO3

A strong wind howled in your ears as the tempest foreseen by the village oracle ripped through the valley. Eyes squinted, you gazed up at the starless sky. The moon gods dared not show themselves tonight, it seemed.

The protective seals hung from the torii of the shrine chimed with the charms that tied them down. Some of the wooden floorboards creaked from the intensity of the gales. The embers that licked at the torches mounted on the pillars flickered at the threat of extinguishment. So far, this was the worst one yet. Goosebumps crept up your skin, the chill easily seeping through the thick layers of your yukata. Each blow could almost cut through the skin of your cheeks. Your fingers tightened around the bronze scepter passed down into your family for generations. The metal was cold, and the ravenous breeze did not permit you to have any semblance of warmth. You’ve had your fair share of unforgiving winter nights, but this was...different.

You remembered, as clear as day, all the indications of his coming. Your grandmother had made sure to drill you into committing every detail to memory, since you had to inherit the responsibility of guarding the Fujiwara Shrine earlier than anticipated. The first sign of his return would be the untamed wind thats would definitely catch even the eyes of the gods. This time, he sure was attempting to draw all the attention to himself.

With your other hand, you constricted your grip around the necklace that has kept the demon at bay for centuries. It was much larger than the regular charm or pendant that women would wear for the trend. It was as big as your palm. After all, it held what the demon wanted most.

His heart. 

The glass that encased the demon’s heart pulsed faintly, as if it were still attached to his body. And that would be the second sign.

Fujiwara shrinekeepers were bounded by obligation to never let the heart out of their sight, and should be worn by the Head Guardian at all times, even it posed a threat to their lives.

The third sign?

“They’ve given me quite a pretty one this time around, eh?”

There was no third sign. You forced yourself not to flinch at his sudden manifestation behind you. Though he loved brewing the wildest of storms before his arrival, Satori did like to get things over with as quickly as possible. Slowly, you turned around to face him.

He was donned with the most ethereal haori you’ve ever laid your eyes on. It was as white as the purest snow, with violet accents lining the hems. You wished to assume that the red splotches on the textile were merely designs of whoever tailored the clothes of demons who were banished on a hundred-year basis. But you knew far too well that bloodstains were forever on demons.

Although, his attire was not the most compelling to look at.

Of course, your grandmother had painted you a vague image of Satori the Tengu as she recounted grandfather’s tale. He was not like the regular yokai who terrorized humans for the fun of it. He did not even look the part. No, it was long believed that Satori might have been the offspring of Benzaiten, herself, if the goddess somehow let herself be besmirched by the filthy hands of a tengu. His hair came in long tufts of the most vibrant crimson, with piercing eyes to match. And though the common tengu had long, ugly noses, that certainly was not evident on Satori’s face. However, even if he was beautiful, there were reasons why your ancestors felt the need to suppress him for centuries at a time.

You’ve heard about what his appearance would be dozens upon dozens of instances, as your grandmother prepared you for your impending duty. But one thing she couldn’t accurately describe in detail was what his wings looked like.

A contempt smile rested on his lips, as you marveled at his unfolded wings. Each feather seemed like it had been dipped in the ichor of an angel—ivory with a golden shimmer that shone even in the dead of night. Your lips parted with a gasp, one hand reaching out for a touch, a caress, a grasp—anything! But just as your fingers were about to make contact with his wings, the chain of the necklace containing his heart sizzled on your skin. The glass was pulsing even stronger this time, threatening to break its prison.

You hissed, but endured the pain, nonetheless. Snapping out of your sudden trance, you steeled yourself.

“In the name of the seven heavenly gods,” you chanted an unfamiliar language, pointing the tip of the scepter in his face, “I banish your existence from this material plane, Satori the Tengu!”

He only looked at you.

“Say, have your elders gotten lax with passing down the incantations to their young-ins?” Satori chuckled. “If you wish to seal me for the next hundred years, you need a stronger spell, girl.”

Your body froze up at his nonchalance. How was he unaffected? You’ve read the Shinto scrolls through and through, and that’s the only thing mentioned about the sealing spell. Grandmother told you as much, too. So why...?

Upon seeing your dismantled confidence, he hollered once more. “Ah, you didn’t hear about my last banishment from the person who performed it firsthand, didn’t you?”

Your eyes fell to the floor.

He placed a taloned hand on your shoulder, and his touch seemed to freeze the part he came in contact with. But unlike the breeze, his touch was perpetually freezing. Humans often do that as a gesture of comfort, but you had no idea what to make of it if a yokai did it to you.

“I commend your efforts, girl,” he praised. “But I am not quite interested in being banished again. I have been going to and from the Netherrealm for, what, millennia already." He exhaled a dramatic sigh. "Surely, I deserve some rest from this nonsense?"

Your brows furrowed in suspicion. "By rest, you mean a chance to destroy the valley once again?"

Satori's lips spread into a crazed grin. "Oh? Is that what the elders taught you? That the white demon that they have been banishing over and over and over again was that much of a brute?" His blood red eyes glowed with such intensity, that you had to instinctively back away, but with each step you took away from him, he only returned with a step closer to you. This continued until he managed to force your back against one of the pillars in the shrine. His face was a hair's breadth from yours, and you can feel his ice-cold breath against your skin. He was much, much taller than you were. Your feet were rooted to the spot, dread replacing the bravery you had put on earlier. You desperately wanted to scream for help, but it's been conveyed to you that the banishment is something that the Head Guardian should be able to execute alone. No one else was vacating the shrine.

You were at the mercy of the demon in front of you.

"If I explained myself, would things change, perhaps?" Poison dripped from his words. "Of course they wouldn't. Humans only listen to what favors them, even if there are infinite possibilities presented, after all."

You racked your brain with any tales from the Shinto scrolls regarding Satori losing composure. He was always depicted as an indifferent being, who often had no qualms with being sent back to the Netherrealm every time he manifested in this world. What had changed?

His sharp, taloned hands reached for your face, and you're almost certain that he would rip your skin to shreds right there. You closed your eyes, anticipating the end of your days, until you felt the caress of a calloused, yet freezing hand instead.

When you blinked, the fury in his eyes was but a memory, and has been overcome by something akin to pity, but not quite.

"You know, even if my physical body is not within the bounds of your realm, I can still peer into what is going on," he murmured against your ear. His large hand enclosed the hand you used to hold on to the necklace, which you didn't realize you were clutching tightly against your chest. "You're a good child, the first human I knew my heart would be secure with."

You were stunned at his sudden change of temperance. Were demons as precarious as they said? Satori continued to surprise you when he pulled away, folding his great wings back in place. Red eyes gazed upward into the dark sky, and for some reason, the clouds overhead parted with just one glance from Satori. The moon spilled her light onto the shrine, illuminating even the darkest corners. Your mouth hung in disbelief. Is this...really what a demon was supposed to be capable of?

He retracted his gaze back to you. "I can hear the footsteps of the other shrinekeepers being carried by my wind. You best complete the sealing ritual before they arrive, or you may as well decapitate yourself, before they do."

You winced at the reminder. There have been times when the Head Guardian failed to banish Satori, and that failure has caused them their heads. You didn't know what to do! You've uttered the only spell you know, the only spell that has been imparted to you ever since you learned how to speak. How were you to know that they were the wrong incantations if you had only one chance to find out for yourself?

Noticing your distress, Satori unfurled one of his wings to edge you near to him. You gasped at the feel of the soft feathers on your back. He kept prodding you closer until you were flush against his broad chest. He smelled of rosemaries, and you could only fathom how the demon who's spent a hundred years in the Netherrealm could have such an aroma.

"I propose two solutions to your dilemma," he informed calmly. "One is that I teach you a temporary sealing spell that will send me back  to wherever you wish to send me. I cannot impart to you the actual spell that your ancestors have abused me with, since it's spoken in the tongue of the angels. But the spell I know of will only last for about five years. However, that's more than enough time for you to search for the original angelic spell."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Was he seriously suggesting that he assist you in his own banishment, when he spoke so ill about it only a few moments ago? That hardly made any sense to you. It was also as if he was implying that accepting each banishment was his choice, and not something he had to resist. Your face contorted with doubt. For all you know, he could be leading you into a trap... Maybe instead of a so-called temporary sealing spell, he's going to make you utter the incantation that will make the binds of his heart weaken enough for him to steal it back.

"W-What is the second?" your voice cracked with sheer nervousness.

He flashes a toothy grin. "You come with me to the Netherrealm, where no one can harm you, of course."

"I refuse!" Your reply came instantaneously with an adamant glint in your eyes. He must have been losing his mind, right? How could he just impose that upon you so casually? Your life has always been here on Earth, with your family and friends! He couldn't just rip you out of the picture as he pleased.

From the distance, you could hear the large iron gates at the bottom of the shrine creak in their hinges. They're here.

"Hmm, both choices will save you, girl. But you could always just die at the hands of the people you've considered family; the same people who caused you to underperform tonight, in the first place, because of their flawed education." Satori smirked. "But you don't want that, do you?"

You were trembling in his grasp, so badly that you dropped the holy scepter that was supposed to spite Satori should the tip be pointed in his direction. That definitely wasn't the case. What were you supposed to do at this point? Satori's words rang true. You didn't want to choose between two risky choices, but if you walked away from the out he was offering, you'd have to face the age-long wrath of your family. You had to choose the choice that demanded the least possible collateral.

"I say, you'd have five more minutes left to make a choice, girl," he murmured softly, his hands caressing your hair almost endearingly. Your heart clenches at the action. What was it that you were feeling? Was he manipulating your feelings to his favor? You don't know, you don't know, you don't—

"I've watched you through the glass ever since it was given to you, do you know that?" Satori interrupted your downward spiral into madness, taking the necklace that held his heart from your unguarded hands. "You might be asking yourself, why doesn't he just kill me and take his heart back?" His rendition of a feminine voice was terrible, but you're too terrified of your fate to speak.

When you continued to keep your silence, he sighed. "You see, girl, I am no ordinary yokai, you've realized that, at least, have you?"

You nodded. He did have a point. Satori was referred to as a tengu, but the only indication of that were his glorious wings. Every other attribute about him seemed to speak of something godly. You've never heard of a yokai who could manipulate the natural elements other than Satori. For the longest time, you've had the mind to question the elders about it, but they would only dismiss your curiosities as blasphemy of the doctrines.

"That in itself is enough reason for me not to kill you and, 'destroy the valley', as you have said," he grinned.

"I-I don't understand."

"You don't have to."

You could hear the voices of your fellow shrinekeepers getting closer by the second. Satori took note of this as well, clicking his tongue. Suddenly, he placed the necklace, now pulsing with life, around your neck. It radiated the kind of warmth you always longed to receive from your family. Your fingers clutched it tightly, as you gazed into his entrancing eyes.

"Make your choice now," he pleaded, while holding out his hand for you. Why did he want to save you that badly?

A million thoughts race across your mind in a millisecond. You weighed each decision available, and you almost broke down with indecisiveness right there. But at the last second, you placed your hands, and your whole trust, in his, and you seemingly melted into the wind just before the shrinekeepers arrived at the last step of the stone stairway.

"Where is she?" Your cousin, Kento voiced out in concern.

Your grandmother's face turned grim, as she inspected the area. The shrine looked as pristine as they have left it in your hands before night fell, but the bronze scepter lay forgotten on the wooden floor. You were nowhere to be seen.

Kento hissed. "It was him! He took her, didn't he? I told you she was not strong enough to banish him, oba-san! It did not work!"

"Silence, Kento," demanded the older woman, as she felt the previously low temperature rise again. As she gazed up at the now clear sky, something caught her attention. A lone, ivory feather that glinted in the moonlight wafted in the air, and down to her feet. Despite her age, she managed to crouch down to study it between her fingers.

"It has been done..."

Not more than five hundred years into the future, a peculiar duo hailing from the nearby Karasuno High School managed to get themselves stuck on a tour around the various historical spots in Miyagi.

"Hinata, you dumbass! That wasn't the line for the train to Tokyo! It was a line for a tour!" Kageyama scolded his companion.

"Uwah! I thought they were going to to Tokyo because of their clothes. They looked like tourists to me, Kageyama!"

"They are tourists, just not in Tokyo!"

"If you're so pissed off about it, then why did we come up all the way in Fujiwara Shrine if you knew that in the first place?"

"S-Shut up! I was interested in the town lore!"

"Sir," the woman overseeing the tour interrupted their banter. "The lecture about a brief history of the shrine is about to start. It would be best if you kept your discussions at a minimum."

Kageyama promptly apologized, as Hinata jeered at him for getting scolded.

Up ahead, there was an easel with a canvas concealed with a white sheet. An elderly woman wearing a traditional yukata began speaking in English, since some of the tourists were foreigners. Kageyama understood her greeting perfectly, but was annoyed when Hinata kept asking him for translations every second. He told his teammate off, saying he'll tell him the gist of it when the woman was done talking.

"The Fujiwara Shrine was founded around the eleventh century, at the generosity of its founder, Fujiwara Daisuke. But shortly after its construction, it caught the attention of the wind god, Satori. He was outraged at the completion of the shrine, since the Fujiwaras supposedly built it on top of his sacred ground. However, Daisuke did not acknowledge him as a god, which caused the deity to become angered at his heresy."

Kageyama became immensely interested in the details that the woman was imparting. He's no history junkie, but hearing about tales of gods and the like always seemed to fascinate him.

The woman continued. "The disagreement eventually worsened, and Satori, blinded by his rage, wiped out the village below. But before he could do the same to this very shrine, Daisuke managed to cut out the god's heart while his guard was down. He encased the god's heart in the most unbreakable glass and hung it around his neck as a necklace. This phenomenon caused Satori to fall into the deepest pits of insanity. The loss of his heart eventually turned him into a yokai. Severely weakened, Satori was cast into the Netherrealm, a void said to house the most menacing of demons. Daisuke specifically enchanted him with the language of angels, something Satori could no longer speak because of the loss of his heart, so he could not unbind the seal on his will."

"However, no seal is completely formidable. Every one hundred years, the seal originally set up by Daisuke will weaken enough for Satori to slip back into the Earthly plane to steal his heart back. He knew this, and that's why he arranged for his grandson, Kisuke to learn the language of the angels right before he died. The tradition has been passed down to the Fujiwaras through the Shinto scrolls ever since. Until in the sixteenth century, Fujiwara (Name) was to take up the responsibility of sealing Satori back as the Head Guardian."

"Kageyamaaaa, I don't understand a word she's saying," Hinata whined.

Kageyama put a finger to his lips with a scary expression on his face, effectively silencing the shrimp.

"Like the responsibility of keeping him at bay for as long as possible, the necklace that contained Satori's heart was also passed down to each Head Guardian. However, the tradition upheld for almost half a millennium was broken by (Name). Accounts of this event were rather flimsy, since the Shinto scrolls at the time, were burned by an unknown individual. However, it was known that, at this period, it was forgotten than Satori was originally a god. He was regarded as a tengu, a type of bird-like yokai because of his wings. The reason why the tradition ended after (Name) is because, legend has it, Satori took an interest in her, for seeing through the fact that he isn't just a demon. Some said that he never came back to the Earthly plane because he had his heart back. Others whisper about the Fujiwaras secretly killing (Name) for her incompetence, and fabricated the story to cover up for the heinous crime."

Some of the tourists mumble in fascination.

"Now, Fujiwara Shrine would now wish to behold an illustration of the god-turned-yokai, Satori, through the skill of the late Fujiwara Kento."

After that, the woman unveiled the sheet on the whatever was standing on the easel, and the sight made Kageyama's eyes widen.

The parchment was fading into a dull brown, but the colors of the painting still seemed to be fresh. The detail put into each feather that made up his wings was breathtaking. But the face of the supposed Satori almost gave Kageyama a heart attack.

"T-That's...That's—" Hinata, though he probably didn't understand the woman's words, was as equally surprised as he is.

"Tendou-san," Kageyama finished for him.

The sound of his phone ringing in his pocket snapped the two of them out of their surprise.

"H-Hello?" Kageyama greeted shakily.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" Sawamura's infuriated voice resounded in the area, causing the other tourists to stare at them bizarrely.

"Daichi-san, we're sorry," apologized Kageyama, while he grabbed Hinata's arm. The other boy protested at his sudden rush, but Kageyama just told him to shut up. "Hinata accidentally lined us up with the tourists exploring Miyagi. We're on the way to the station as we speak."

"You better be here in half an hour or it's two extra hours of drills for the both of you!" With the final word, their captain hung up.

Kageyama sighed, as he and Hinata went down the stone stairway that led to the shrine. The afternoon sun was glaring at them and there wasn't a single whistle of wind. The information he just took in swirled in his mind, unable to wrap his head around the fact that Satori the god looked exactly like Tendou from Shiratorizawa. When they descended to the bottom, Kageyama casted one last glance at the shrine up in the hill. For once, he's grateful that he and Hinata got lost.

[kyliehorsegirl]

Snakes Ch. 4 (Michael Langdon x Reader)

A/N: Ok so I wrote this in an hour because I was very angsty and sad for our baby. SO here is how I think it should have ended. #michaellangdondeservesbetter

I may write one or two more fluffy chapters to heal our souls. For now I REALLY hope you enjoy this and it makes you happy!!!

If you haven’t read my series SNAKES or you need to catch up you can find all of the chapters at the top of my MASTERLIST

Word Count: 2687

******************************************************

Y/n felt a tremendous amount of energy and power flow her after their ritual. Ms. Meade helped Michael get into a maroon velvet blazer. She offered Y/n a black lace pantsuit. A dress wouldn’t be beneficial in a fight.

 “No matter what happens, I want you to know that I love you and I am glad to have you by my side.” Michael came to her and held her face in his hands.

 “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you too Michael, you’ve taught me more so much about myself, I never would’ve found out on my own.” She looked at him with so much love, before he places a strong kiss on her lips.

 “They will come, it won’t be like the dream. You’ll know what to do.” He looked at her in all seriousness. Her eyebrows furrowed with worry.

 “What if I’m not ready, what if I can’t fight them?” Her voice laced with concern. He kissed her on the forehead.

 “When the time comes, you’ll know what to do. You have to trust your instincts.” He was so sure in his voice. He placed on last kiss on her lips before they felt a presence in their domain. She looked to him before taking a deep breath, they made their way out of the room and down the stairs. Michael stood in the front, Y/n at his side and Ms. Meade behind them. Six witches stood in front of them.

 Mallory, Coco and Dinah. She never would have guessed that they were witches, but she could feel the power coursing through them. She sensed that Mallory is a rising supreme. She recognized the other three from her dream. She quickly learned their names by peering into their minds, something she didn’t know she could do. Myrtle, the red head. Madison, the young blonde. Cordelia, the current supreme. She discovered their plan to destroy Michael.

 Dinah made a comment before Michael interluded.

 “How can any of you defeat me when I’ve already won?” Michael stood with a hip cocked.

 “You haven’t won.” Cordelia takes a step closer to them.

 “Perhaps you haven’t noticed the state of the world.” He laughs at them.

 “It’s almost as bad as your dinner jacket, but at least the world can be saved.” The red head’s sarcastic comment was unappreciated as Y/n shot her a glare.

 “By you?” Michael questions darkly, his voice going deeper.

 “By all of us.” Cordelia stood tall and confident. Y/n almost felt sorry for her.

 “Hey, get the wax out of your ears, I’m hear to watch.” Dinah snapped at them.

 “But I’m not.” Coco gathered her dress and stomped in front of the other witches. Y/n and Michael cocked their heads simultaneously. “Just don’t let me die again, it really sucked the first time.” Cordelia threw a hand out at her. Y/n pursed her lips and shook her head.

 “When I’m done, you’re gonna wish you were all dead.” Michael spoke.

 “I always thought the world would end with fire and ice, not witches and warlocks.” Myrtle rolled her eyes.

 “The seventh seal has been broken. Wormwood has fallen from the sky and turned the rivers to blood and fire. The bottomless pit has been open and my swarms of scorpions and locusts have ravaged humanity. The world has been remade in my father’s image.” Y/n almost didn’t recognize Michael as he spoke.

 “Darling, it seems daddy didn’t tell you the most important rule of bringing on the apocalypse, the first thing you have to do is get rid of all the witches.” Myrtle laughed at him. Y/n’s hands clenched into fists at her sides.

 “Big mistake.” Coco said. She had no business speaking.

 “I could annihilate all of you in a second and the world would go on without missing a beat. You and all your work will be forgotten in the ruble of the past, but I want to give you a future. Fall to your knees and accepted me as your Lord and Savior and I will bring you to the table as my obedient subjects.” His voice went deep. He brought his hands behind his back, Y/n watched as the witches giggled and snickered at him.

 “Imbeciles, fall to your knees before the king, hail Satan.” Ms. Meade demanded them angrily.

 “The only way we would sit at your table is if your decapitated head was the center piece.” Cordelia sneered at him.

 “Cordelia, your raised me from the dead, so that you would have the power of Voodoo on your side, but if you know anything about who I am you would know that the only choice I pick would be the winner.” Dinah made her way to Michael and bowed to him.

 “You’re half right Dinah.” Cordelia stated. Everyone turned to a new presence that made its way into the room.

 “She needed the help of a powerful Voodoo queen, but that ain’t you sis.” Marie Laveau. Y/n’s eyes went wide, sensing her power. “To release me from hell, Cordelia promised Papa Legba, the darkest and most corrupt voodoo queen’s soul for mine, you’ll serve him well in my place.” Laveau put her hands on her hips as she sneered at Dinah.

 “You’re a fool Marie Laveau would have done no different if you were queen.” Marie snarled at her before she teleported behind her and stuck a butcher knife in her neck. Dinah sobbed as she tried to stop the blood from pouring profusely.

 “Out with the trash, give Papa my regards.” Marie flipped her hair over her shoulder in a cocky manner. Ms. Meade looked to Michael before removing her hand and revealing a gun, she cocked it and prepared to fire. Cordelia spoke some sort of spell that sent Ms. Meade into a craze. Michael and Y/n turned to see her shaking.

 “Ms. Meade?” Michael questioned with worry before she exploded, sending Y/n and Michael over the railings. Parts of Ms. Meade flew everywhere. Y/n and Michael tried to catch their breaths at the wind was knocked out of them. Ms. Meade’s head landed next to Michael. Tears welded in his eyes before she powered off.

 “Madison!” Y/n heard Cordelia call out, she looked over her shoulder to see Madison reach for Meade’s gun. She aims at Michael.

 “Sorry about your little toy, bitch.” She shot Michael over and over. He backed against the wall before sliding down, blood pooling around him. Y/n remained on the floor Covering her head. Myrtle went up to him and pet his hair.

 “Smooth as silk.” She said with large gasps, as she yanked a chunk of his hair, handing it to Mallory.

 “A personal item, remember dear, focus on it. Use it to focus on a time and place in Michael’s life.” They chanted some part of the spell before they encouraged Mallory to find a place to perform the spell.

 “I’ll hold him off as long as I can, go.” Madison said, clutching the gun tighter. Y/n made her way to Michael, she knew he was ok, but she had to act. She crawled to him and cradled his head to her chest, crying as she rocked him. To say she was having some PTSD was an understatement, but she knew she had to sell it.

 “Michael?” She said shakily. Her hand stoked his cold face. She cried and looked to Madison with tear stained cheeks. Madison paused, only for a moment.

 “You’re going to be next bitch.” There was a large commotion, Madison turned her head and a body on fire fell by her feet. Michael blinked a few times before the blood returned into his body.

 “Oh fuck, I guess its back to retail.” She cocked the fire arm before turning around. Michael put a hand on Y/n’s shoulder, giving her a nod. She extended her hand out to Madison and clenched a fist, with that, her head exploded off her body.

 Michael cracked his neck and looked up to the stairs.

 Side by side, Y/n and Michael climbed the steps.

 “Their coming!” Marie screamed at the witches. Marie performed some voodoo blocking Y/n and Michael from passing. She began to chant.

 “You will not pass.” She said, Michael shoved his hand forward, a force blocking him.

 “You really think your stupid voodoo spells can stop me?” He smirked before shoving his hand in her chest, grabbing her heart. “Is that all you got?”

 “Not exactly.” She Spit out. Before Y/n could turn around, Coco stabbed Michael in the back.

 “Die again, fuck face.” She screeched at him. He turned to her fully, looking down at the knife poking out of his chest. He brought his free hand to feel the wound.

 “Normally that would work.” He yanks the heart out of Leveau, causing her to fall. “but I’m nothing like normal.” He takes a bite out of the heart, licking his lips after. He pulls Y/n to him, offering her a bite of the heart, which she gladly takes. He kisses her in front of Coco. Lost of tongue as they lick the blood off each other’s lips. Y/n brings her hand to Michael’s back and yanks the knife out of his back. He rolls his eyes and looks to Coco.

 He whips his fingers and snaps her neck. Him and Y/n stomp in the direction of the witches.

 “How did you think this would end? Prophecy in inevitable.” Michael spoke, Cordelia turns to look at them. “I was always going to win, Miss Supreme.” He spits Venom at her.

 “Not on your own, you’ve been led by the hand, coddled the entire way. By your father, the warlocks. I look at you and I don’t see a man, I see a sad, scared little boy, so pathetic he couldn’t even kill me with a thousand nuclear bombs.” She bit at him.

 “But I never expected to. I knew like a cockroach I knew you would survive the nuclear fallout. I wanted you to and now I have the satisfaction of watching you die, knowing you failed.”

 “You still don’t get it do you? Even now, you think there is only winning and losing. Success and failure, but failure is when you lost any semblance of hope. You will get to watch me die, but you won’t find it satisfying.” She stole the knife from him, causing him to look at her in shock.

 “Satan has one son, but my sisters are legion motherfucker.” She plunges the knife into her chest. Michael gapes like a fish in shock. Michael screams as Cordelia falls to the floor. Y/n hears commotion in another room. She runs, abandoning Michael. Mallory is performing a time travel spell.

 They are going to kill Michael as a child. She thought to herself. The idea causing her to tear up. Not yet, she couldn’t cry.

 It was like it happened in slow motion. Y/n ran into the room. Myrtle screamed at her trying to defend Mallory as she went under. Y/n used all of her powers to kill Myrtle, she exploded all over the walls like her dream. Y/n reached for Mallory as she heard Michael scream.

 “NO!” as she touched Mallory, she was brought into the past. She was across the street, laying in a neighbor’s yard. She looks up to see a young Michael start to walk across the street. She senses the black car before it appears. She runs to Michael and pulls him down shielding him, her hand goes up as the car flips over them.

 It crashes and slides up against a tree. Y/n takes young Michael’s face in her hands.

 “Wait here.” She speaks quick to him. His eyes brimmed with tears as he nods quickly.

 She strides over to the car and uses her powers to rip the door off the car. She yanks Mallory out and drags her to the middle of the street. Mallory was bruised and bloody.

 “How dare you kill him, he had the mentality of a child Mallory!” Her hand goes to Mallory’s throat, she lifts her in the air, choking her in a bone crushing grip.

 “He, he’s evil, Y/n. He needs to die.” Mallory chokes out.

 “If you kill him like this? You are no better than he is.” She crushes her throat and Mallory goes limp in her grip. She concentrates and sets her on fire, her spirit ceasing to exist.

 She takes a deep sigh of relief. She walks over to baby Michael, who is curled up with his head in his knees.

 “Hey, hey, shh, its going to be ok.” He looks up at her with watery eyes in awe.

 “Who are you?” He hiccups in between the words.

 “You’ll know when you’re older.” She kisses his forehead and stands. She offers a hand to him, which he accepts.

 They walk and in hand back to his house. She finds Constance and grabs her face in her hands. She looks deep into her eyes putting her in a trance.

 “You will love him and take care of him. No deed he does is worth not loving him. Teach him kindness, teach him love and compassion. Teach him humility, teach him remorse. Be there for him like no one else was.” When Constance snaps from her trance she looks to Michael and hugs him. She apologizes for the awful things she said earlier.

 “I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry Michael, I love you.” She hugs him and holds him close. He takes a deep breath as he holds her tight, crying into her shoulder.

 Y/n launches herself out of the water, choking on some water in her lungs. Michael is quick to yank her out of the tub and hold her close. He rubs her back and waits for her to calm down.

 “Are you ok my love?” He asks, searching her eyes for something wrong.

 “I, I fixed it.” She looks to him, proud of herself. A smile breaks out on her face.

 “Fixed what?” He asks in confusion. She stands and offers him a hand, he looks at the hand with a look of confusion. Memories flash like a movie reel. He stands slowly, taking her hand. His face softened. His wounds healed. Tears fill his eyes as he pulls her to him. His face shoved into her neck as he cries. He sees the memory of what she did for him. She saved him, she gave him a chance at a real childhood at real happiness.

 With how fucked up the timeline was, it didn’t necessarily prevent the apocalypse, but it did enough.

 “Come with me.” She smiled up at him, they walked hand in hand as she let him to the door outside.

 “Y/n, you can’t go out there.” He pulled her hand back, preventing her from opening the door to the outside. She brings her hands to his face with a wide smile. She kisses him lovingly before releasing him.

 “Trust me.” She waited for him, he nodded. Y/n opened the door, the walked up the steps of the school when the clearing came into view.

 The sun shined, the grass was green. Birds chirped in the background. Michael’s eyes were wide, a large smile grew on his face. He spun slowly looking at every angle. Blue skies, green grass. The air was clean, he took a deep inhale, breathing in the good air.

 He plopped himself on the ground, laying flat on his back. Y/n looked down at him lovingly, happy to see him happy. He pulled at her hand and brought her down on top of him. He kissed her, a hand holding the side of her face.

 “You did this. I can’t thank you enough. This is one of the best feelings I’ve had in a long time. I love you Y/n” He caressed her face, looking at her in awe.

 “I love you too Michael.” She pressed her head to his forehead, kissing his nose before resting her head on his chest. They both closed their eyes.

 Finally, at peace.  

***************************

I’m not crying, you’re crying....

Taglist.

@squirrelacorngliterfarts @buckynatlarry @delicatefishtreedream @skullchik89 @wth-trippy @teenagevampirebouquet @glamorous-without-the-guilt @first-son-of-finwe @aerite @no-salvation-no-forgiveness @albeeox @starks-narglesand-daddyjamiewald   @bryandechartisasmolbean @beautifulagatha @majesticspellman @homeschool-prom-queen @the-captain-kidd @creepy-jazzy @spidey-starky @envyskitty @depressed-comics @bookwormstrawberry @scarletraine @quione3 @artisticlales @superwarsofthrones @hxdesworld @thebatshitcrazyfangirl @sexxxychiq @michael-langdon-is-daddy @justanotherdaydreamersoul @honeybun5801 @lost-in-the-stories @multi-madison  @agb-random @michaellangyum @xscarlett-rosex @m-i-a-m-c-d-e-e @lustlangdon @fuckthatfeeling @frozenhuntress67 @queenie435 

[lord-archon]

Letters to Myself, 1/23: A Rat

It was just a rat, a very, very large rat. That’s what they said, that’s.. that’s what Nyassa said they found in Windthrush after I found her in Westfall again. What I saw wasn’t real.. it wasn’t some abomination, some fleshy creature. Gods.. what is wrong with me, what is happening?  Has it started? Have I already begun slipping? I gloomy fucking set half of Eastburg on high alert with my ramblings and the scratches on my chest, and I’m fairly certain whatever good grace I had has been erased. 

And of Nya? What have I done? I terrified the woman I love over a RAT. The poor woman has already been through enough, even with Ren’dorei friends or partners, and now I’m no better than them. There’s only two things I can do now, really.

One is that I leave a note, maybe leave this as I teleport myself to Telogrus and throw myself over to the abyss and let the lords of the endless dark have their prize. Gods know that’s what I felt inclined towards the most after I was taken back to Windthrush to recover, which is where I sit, for now.

The second... the second is I go through with the cleansing procedure proposed by Nyth’allas. The one my beloved Nyassa sought out for me at the behest of angry whispers and mutterings. Now my hallucinations have caused me harm, and I’ve allowed myself to be vulnerable as to let them affect me so severely. Do I really deserve even the possibility of a second chance? At renewing my purpose, and moving on from my greatest mistake? I’m inclined towards the second option, but frankly.. I am fearful now more than ever how a person sees me, how she sees me. I’ve been unfair, and unkind. I’ve been difficult and emotional almost every step of the way through our relationship, yet still she says she loves me. Or.. at least she did. I don’t know what she thinks now, and... maybe I don’t deserve to.

I’ve wanted so much to impress her friends in the Duchy, and now I’ve only impressed upon them that I’m just a madwoman hanging in empty space by a dwindling thread. I’ve ruined her reputation, the one thing I wished never to damage. Now she’s going to be known for being courted by a crazed consort. I want to sleep, but I can’t. The nightmares.. they’ll just keep coming, and now more than ever I fear the truth they might entail. I don’t want to go through them again, and I’m too scared to leave here to obtain dreamless sleep potions to bypass seeing her as I do in my peaceless unconscious state, of seeing Sylvie in the last way I ever wanted to remember her again, of the voices that chant their claims that Nyassa will end up no differently. So I.. I guess all I can do is wait. But I must choose soon, I don’t think I can bear to put my beloved through something like yesterday again, and the longer I wait here without sleep feels like another step towards oblivion. But.. I don’t want to be another poor memory. I love her, GODS do I love her. I don’t want to be another tragedy in the tale of Nyassa Ebonwind, I want to be the end of the tragedy, and the beginning of something greater. I confessed to Valindra already my plan to propose in about two or three months, and I.. I still want to. Which means I only have one choice really. If Nyassa would keep me even after this? I want to have the procedure. I want to be free. And I want my beloved to be the harbinger of that new beginning. I will be free from my mistake.

[spooky-raccoon]

My Unexpected Muse (Part 3) (Final)

There be smut below.

           It had been a couple days and I would have forgotten about Pennywise if I didn’t have photos sitting on my desk.  I had several printed out and laminated for when he came back.  Part of me didn’t want him to but the rest of me did.  I wasn’t sure what he had planned for me if he had any.  After punching a hole in a corner of the photos and attaching them to a keyring I flipped through them.  I couldn’t help but to giggle at some of them when we had decided to do some silly faces and goofy poses.  This clown was the one terrorizing the town but for some reason I wasn’t too afraid. I was fascinated.  After all, we had fun. Didn’t we?  I set the pictures next to the camera and I let out a sigh.

           “What’s wrong little one?”  His voice was right next to my ear and I let out a shriek.  Quickly, I spun around and he was chuckling.

           “What do you want from me?”  My eyes flicked up to him as I was finally able to regain some bit of myself.

           “Oh nothing. Everything.”  He let out a laugh as he picked me up with ease and put me on his lap facing him after he sat on the couch.  “Since we were having such a fun time taking pictures.”  Next thing I knew in his hand was a paintbrush and one of my cups of red paint.  With a flick of his claw my tank top fell off and I was left sitting there in just my bra and shorts.

           “Hey!”  I quickly covered myself and glared at him.

           “Relax little one.” His hands rested on my cheeks and slowly slid down my body.  I didn’t want to admit it but the feeling of his large hands was actually soothing. “I’m not going to hurt you.  At least not a lot.”  

           His hands rested on my hips and I could feel warmth washing over me as I realized I was getting turned on simply sitting on him like this.  I could feel he was too as I felt something twitch underneath my crotch.  His eyes looked me over and he licked his lips.  I could feel myself blushing brightly as I watched him so I turned my head to look away.

          “Oh, how cute.”  His hand grabbed my chin and he pulled my face back to look at him. “No looking away though.  We’re just having fun here after all.”

          He dipped the paintbrush in the paint and I let my arms down.  I noticed my camera was now sitting on the cushion next to us.  I let out a gasp as I felt the cold paint touch my skin as he began to paint on me.  I watched him curiously.  On my collarbones he painted several balloons and in the middle, he began writing something. Once he was done writing there he began to write on my arms and stomach.  I couldn’t help but to giggle when he got to my more ticklish areas and he chuckled as well.  What I didn’t expect was him to rip my bra off.  My hands quickly cupped my breasts and I could feel my face turn red.

          “Relax.”  His hands slid up my body and underneath my hands.  He began to gently massage my breasts and twisting my nipples.  I couldn’t hold back my gasps and whimpers. Soon my hands fell down to his sides. “That’s a good girl.  However though.”  He wagged his finger in a thoughtful manner and his hands gripped my shorts.  My eyes went wide as my shorts were ripped off me and cool air hit my bare skin.

          “Pennywise!”  I yelped out as my hands quickly went to my crotch in attempt to cover myself.

          “Now, now little one.  I can smell how you feel right now.”  His hand easily pulled mine away and his fingers gently teased my clit. I was trying so hard not to grind against his fingers.  “We’re just having some fun.”  He let out a crazed laugh as I watched him undo his pantaloons.

          His fingers began to rub more and I finally caved in to letting myself moan.  Once his cock was free I couldn’t help but to look at it.  It was pale just like the rest of him.  Unlike any other I’ve seen before there were ridges and bumps all over it. His girth was really what scared me even though his length was pretty intimidating as well.  I was curious on how it felt so I gently took it in my hand, slowly rubbing it.  He began to let out a low growl, almost like a deep purr that was trying to come out while gargling rocks.  

          “I’m in a good mood today.  Instead of just shoving you into the ground as I plow you I’ll let you ride me.  For now.” He let out some low and threatening chuckles.  I was about to stammer out something until he put a finger up to my lips.  “I suggest you take the offer.  It’s not something I do but you,” his hands glided over my body as he let out a growl like purr again, “you’re special.”

          I pulled myself up so I could slide him into me. I took my time so I could adjust to his length and girth.  My hands gripped onto his shoulders and each time I went farther down on his cock I would let out a moan.  Once he was fully inside me I couldn’t help but smile with content with how full I felt. He smirked as he pulled my head forward, kissing me with drool covered lips as I rode him.  When the kiss broke away I noticed he had the paintbrush in his hand.  I stopped and looked at him confused.

         “No, no.  Keep going.”  His free hand gripped my hip as he bucked his hips into me.  

         After I let out a moan I got back to riding him. I felt the coldness of the paint again as he ran the brush along my skin.  I didn’t want to question him.  With him being an actual monster I valued my life more than a lot of things.  To be honest, I wasn’t minding his cock either. I would glance down at times to see what he was painting it was just the word ‘Mine’ over and over.  It would switch from beautiful penmanship to erratic lines.  The entire time he was giggling.  When he got to the more ticklish areas I couldn’t help but to laugh as well.

        “Penny, you’re going to run out of room.”  I noticed that soon my thighs were covered with the word or balloons.

        “There’s always more room.”  He gave me a smirk as with the flip of his hand I was bent over the coffee table.  Once again, I could feel my face turning red.  There had been a few seconds of silence but soon I felt a cold hand prints placed on my ass cheeks.  “Perfect!” Pennywise let out a shriek of laughs. “But first.”  I heard the clicking of the camera of pictures being taken. Oh god, he was really going there. “Up, up.”  He pulled my torso up and he took several selfies of the both of us, making sure that my torso got in the picture.  “You’ll have to print these out for me as well little one.  I’ll want them in my personal lair.”  He smacked my back as he let out a chuckle causing me to fall forward.

         Before I could say anything, his cock was back inside me and I could feel the paintbrush against my shoulder blades. My fingers wrapped around the edge of the table as I attempted to bury my face in it.  My moans only echoed off of the wood though.  After some time, pleasure was overriding over my senses and I couldn’t even feel the brush as it reached my mid back.  I could guess he was writing ‘Mine’ and drawing balloons again. I’d find out when I developed the pictures.  Who knew I’d be thankful to have my own dark room for the day a monster fucked me and painted on my back.  He was very excited to use the camera.  Besides his grunts from thrusting I would hear the clicking of the damn camera.  As he got to my lower back he began to chant ‘Mine!’ on repeat.  Each other one getting more aggressive than the last.  Eventually, he thought he had painted enough as both hands gripped my hips tightly.  His thrusts became more erratic and powerful.  My moans turned into screams of pleasure as my body finally got overcame with the orgasm that had been building up.  Shortly after his hips gave one final thrust into me and I could feel his cum painting the inside of my cervix.  

        “Ya know,” he slid out of me and helped me over to the bathroom so we could wash the paint off after he took a few more pictures, “I think we make fantastic art together.  Wouldn’t you agree?”  I knew he was joking but I couldn’t help but giggle.

        “Yeah, I think we do.” I leaned against the wall of the shower as I let the paint wash off me.  “Though next time you can be rougher.  Maybe a little blood as a medium if you’d like.”  My shoulders gave a small shrug and I couldn’t help but to smirk when I saw his confused face.  “You’re an odd muse but I wouldn’t mind doing a few more,” I put my hands against his chest once I stepped closer to him, “art studies with you.”

        His delighted laughs and giggles echoed throughout the small bathroom as he came into the shower with me, shutting the curtain behind him.  An artist finds muses in the most unknown places.  Mine just happened to be an evil clown from another dimension.  I couldn’t have asked for a better one though.  My unexpected muse.

@@fuck-the-clown @victhegay​ @fandomscooter @booklover2929 @dirtydaddywiseslut @red-balloons-and-popcorn

[ifellunderthecovers]

Lookie what I found :D

I wrote this half way through college for creative writing. It’s horror so since tomorrow is Halloween I think I’ll post it. When I have a chance, which is soon hopefully, I will post a second half to my sans mask tutorial. This has not been the best month for me.  

I sat alone at the bar staring thoughtfully into the now warm mug of beer contemplating how my life had turned out this way. At one point in time I enjoyed going home to my family immediately after work. Now I dreaded going home to the quiet and often times found myself at Muddy Waters instead. The loud clicking of pool balls hitting one another drifted in from the nearby billiards room slowly breaking me out of my self-induced trance.

Finally looking up, I studied the other patrons of the bar. With it being a Wednesday the bar wasn’t all that busy. I recognized a few of the faces, Tim the town drunkard sat back in his corner booth by himself nursing what is probably his eighth or ninth beer. Scattered about were truckers that stopped in while resting at the nearby truck stop. The squeak of a chair and the rough voice of Rob the bartender giving a greeting told me a new person had sat down at the bar. Turning back to my drink I quickly drained the last of the bitter brew and signaled for Jennifer the waitress to come over. She promptly made her way over to me swaying her plump hips as she walked. Watching her reminds me that it has been forever since I’ve been with a woman and with that reminder I feel a stab of loneliness hit me. “What can I get ya Mark?” she purrs. She’s flirting with me, she has been ever since Sarah left me and took the kids. At times I feel that I should maybe try asking her out for dinner, but the thought of my ex keeps me from it. I quickly give her my dinner order of a burger and fries and turn my attention back to my empty mug to keep her from saying anything. It’s better not to start talking to her and give her false hope at this point in time. Maybe one day I would move on from Sarah, but for now I do not want Jennifer looking too far into any of my actions.

Staring at my mug I overhear the newcomer to the bar asking Rob to turn the closest TV to the local news channel.  The newcomer looks at me and starts speaking in a hopeful tone “Hey man you don’t mind me turning the channel do you? It’s just I really want to see what’s going on with those murders down in lower Georgia ya know. I heard earlier that there was something about more possible murders just like the others in Florida. Like there’s a cult or something. It’s getting pretty interesting.” I stretch and glance at the TV some basketball game that I could care less about is on. “Nah man that sounds better than this lame game,” I answer looking in his direction. Maybe the murders would give me something to think about other than my messed up life. Rob grabs the remote and quickly changes the channel and turns his attention towards me. Noticing my empty mug he simply points at it with an eyebrow raised.  “Another tall house brew please,” I answer to his unvoiced question. As he pours the golden colored liquid into the mug I turn my attention to the TV. The newscaster is talking about some five car pileup on the highway in the next town over. I half-heartedly listen. Nothing interesting ever seems to happen in Summerston, Alabama, so the news of the crash meant nothing to me.

The whine of a door catches my attention and I watch as Jennifer walks out of the kitchen towards me carrying my food. Placing the plate in front of me she shoots me a pitying look then turns and hurriedly walks back the way she came. Munching on my fries I returned my attention back to the TV just in time to see the words BREAKING NEWS flashing across the screen. Rob stopped what he was doing to grab the remote and turn the volume up to the point it could easily be heard by the two of us sitting at the bar. A sharply dressed news woman appears on the screen and stares straight ahead while the news tune plays. Immediately after the music ends she begins speaking in a serious tone. “Good evening everyone. A breaking news story is coming in now from west Georgia. The bodies of thirty two unidentified men, woman, and children were found slaughtered in a field behind a subdivision in Columbus, Georgia. Hours ago police responded to the call of a hysterical local woman walking her dog who happened upon the devastating scene. It has been confirmed that the bodies found had tremendous damage to the necks making it the probable cause of death. It was also mentioned that the bodies may have been missing their hearts but the authorities have yet to comment on that matter. The killings may or may not be linked to the other ninety eight deaths in the past two months in Statesboro, Georgia; Lake City, Florida; and Madison, Florida. The bodies all had terrible neck damage and were all missing the hearts. The killings seem to happen at random with no witnesses to be found. It would also seem that the killer or killers are possibly on a country wide killing spree and may be headed towards north Georgia or southern Alabama. We’ll continue to keep the public informed as information comes in.”

Rob slowly reaches for the remote and puts the TV on mute. The bar seems to have fallen quiet except for the light music coming from the speakers. The atmosphere takes on a somber feeling as most of the patrons stare stunned at the now silent flat screen. Summerston and Columbus weren’t too far from one another. The thought of a possible serial killer headed this way sent my mind racing. Whoever the killer or killers were they were brutal and without mercy or conscience if they were willing to kill even children. For the first time I thanked god that Sarah had left me for her boss and taken the kids away. If the killer headed our way at least the kids would be safe up north in Ohio. If I died I could care less. It would put me out of my misery.

Leaning back I notice from the corner of my eye Jennifer watching me with an odd look on her face. She glances at the T.V. then back to me. She narrows her eyes at me and tilts her head as if contemplating something then shakes her head and walks away. At this point I don’t think she’s noticed I’ve been watching her and have seen her odd behavior. I have no idea what to make of her actions. Slightly turning I watch as she moves from table to table checking on each customer. Frowning I turn back to my food to see Rob watching me with a small smirk and one eyebrow raised. When he knows he has my attention he looks towards the direction Jennifer has gone then back at me and his smirk grows.

“You really should think about moving on, Mark. What Sarah did was terrible man, it wasn’t your fault. She’s nothing more than a gold digging whore and those kids are just greedy brats. No offence,” he stated walking closer. He sighed, gave me a knowing look, and continued.

“I happen to know for a fact that Jennifer’s got it bad for you Mark. Ever since she started working here four years ago she’s made moon eyes at you. When she heard Sarah and you were getting a divorce she was ecstatic. She walked around happy as a squirrel with a whole corn cob. Just give her a chance she’s a good girl and I think she’ll be just what you need. You’d do each other good. Neither of you would be lonely anymore. Maybe you’d both smile more often.” I stare at him for a minute nod my head in acceptance and go back to eating my cold fries.

Grabbing my beer I quickly chug it and move on to the harder stuff. “Give me a Boiler Maker,” I mumble. He frowns but pours me another large beer then adds a shot of whiskey. “If I’m going to ask her out I’m really going to need some liquid courage. Sarah did a number on my confidence so even if I know for a fact she likes me I’m still going to need some assistance,” I comment looking up with determination.

A loud choking gasp comes from the direction of Tim’s booth. Robs looks in that direction and a look of surprise and confusion crosses his face. I quickly turn to look at what he’s seeing. Tim is standing up staring at the TV his eyes glassy with one arm raised and pointing towards the TV as well. He’s shaking and gasping as if terrified. “It. I. It’s them,” he stutters. He’s twitching and a terrified and panicked look slowly starts to overtake the shocked features. He starts to sweat and begins to chant “it’s them” over and over walking towards the middle of the bar. By now others in the bar are stopping what they’re doing and turning to watch Tim’s crazed actions.

“Tim shut up and go back to your booth!” Rob shouts with an annoyed expression. Tim doesn’t pay Rob any attention as his screaming becomes more frantic

“Demons! There coming! They’re going to kill us all! The shadows are coming to slaughter us all and rip out our hearts! The shadow people are coming!” He’s drunk and going crazy I think. All the beer over the years must have finally driven the poor man insane. Robs expression shows nothing but pure annoyance as he quickly unties his apron tossing it on the bar as he heads towards Tim. Jennifer has walked forward from the billiards room and is practically glaring at Tim. She quickly walks forward to grab on to Tim’s arm just as Rob reaches him. Together they slowly pull him towards the door. As they pull him along his screaming begins to waiver and is finally cut off when they push him out the door. Jennifer speaks to Rob for a minute before she rushes out the door after Tim. Rob paused by the door watching out the window then turned and walked back to the bar while shaking his head. Stepping behind the bar he lets out a long sigh dragging his hand across his face. He scratches the back of his head, glances towards the door again and grabs his apron.

As I take in my surroundings I watch as people slowly turn their attention away from the door and go back to what they were doing before Tim’s crazed ramblings and the news story. I furrow my brow and stare at my food. Frowning I push my plate away food only half eaten. My appetite is gone, Tim’s outburst having ruined it. Tim has had drunken fits before, I had been there for two of them, but never something like this. I turn my attention back to my drink. I can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling Tim’s outburst has put in me. I felt uneasy. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and the skin of my arms pimpled. The feeling of dread swept over me and I shuddered. Ten minutes later the feeling had subsided but I still didn’t quite feel at ease.

Taking another swig of my beer I notice Jennifer finally return with her hair slightly tousled. She looks around as if frazzled until her eyes land on me. I make a mental note of the odd look in her eyes. I give her a small sympathetic smile as she heads towards the bar. She slides onto a chair next to me at the bar and lays her head onto the table hiding her face in her arms. “Everything okay? You get him sent home alright?” Rob questions.

Jennifer tenses and looks up slowly rising to sit up straight. “Yeah I called his neighbor to come get him. He was not happy about it but came and took him home. He should be better after he sleeps it off,” she replies in a tired voice. Rob nods, looks at me, smirks, and walks towards the door to the kitchen.

I’m nervous. I’ve been out of the dating game for around sixteen years. I had only been with two other women before Sarah, so I didn’t have that much experience either. I pushed my feeling of unease to the back of my mind and focused all of my attention on Jennifer. “So Jennifer,” I start “I was wondering if maybe you would want to go out with me sometime. Like on a date.” Her eyes widen with a look of surprised joy. Her cheeks redden as she gives me a shy smile. She claps her hands together interlocking her fingers and drops her eyes to her lap in a sudden bout of bashfulness. She giggles and peeks at me through her curtain of hair. “Of course Mark, I’ve been waiting so long for you to finally ask that” she croons. “How about tomorrow for lunch? Say 12 o’ clock?” she asks meeting my gaze. “That sounds great! Any place in particular you….” A loud terrified scream comes from the billiards room stopping me mid-sentence. Jennifer lets out an annoyed huff as she looks over. Another loud scream makes me jump and I quickly stand up putting my hand on Jennifer’s shoulder. With a loud thud the kitchen door opens and Rob darts out and comes to stand near us.

A wild eyed woman comes running out, her face a mask of terror and clothes with splatters of blood. Right behind her are three men with expressions just as terrified. The third man goes to run through the door and falls in the doorway as if tripped. He screams “Oh god no what the hell are these things!” as he attempts to crawl forward franticly. An inhuman screech come from behind him, the terror on his face becomes more pronounced. Clawing at the floor he makes one final attempt to flee. A large black hand grabs his leg dragging him back into the room kicking and screaming his nails leaving tracks in the floor. His screams cease. The realization hits me that whatever is in the room has killed him. Everyone sits in a stunned silence before the first woman to come out of the pool room screams again and races for the front door. She stops just as suddenly as she started and whimpers. A giant black mass has started to bubble up from the floor and now stands in front of the door emitting an ominous presence. I watch in horror as the thing then begins to take shape.

The body grows slimmer and shoulders appear giving it a slightly hunched look. A long sleek tail comes from behind showing itself above the beasts head. Arms and legs start to take form adorned with long wicked razor like claws. Next came a head that shifted and morphed into a long pointed snout. With a roll of its head, a pair of large white horns began to appear where you would assume ears would be. It opened its mouth to reveal sharp pointed teeth it let out a monstrous cry and lunged for the woman’s neck. Just like that, the bar was thrown into chaos as panic set in. Grabbing Jennifer’s wrist I proceed to drag her towards the kitchen with me, my unease now turned into a full blown panic. Rushing through the door the startled cook looks at us asking “What’s going on out there?” in a nervous tone while wringing his hands. I pay him no mind as we rush past him. I should probably tell him to run and possibly save his life, but I’m too focused on saving Jennifer’s and my own.  The humid air hits me as we burst through the back door into the warm night. Looking around I find my car and make a bee line for it. We run between two cars, where I trip and fall losing my grip on Jennifer’s arm. Looking to see what I tripped on I see that it’s a body. But not just any body, its Tim’s. My heart feels like its beating so fast, it feels as if it’s going to break out of my chest. Staring into Tim’s lifeless eyes I feel a sense of dread washing through me. Time seems to stop as things fall into place in my panic fogged mind. Jennifer was the last one with Tim. She said she sent him off with his neighbor. But how could she have. He was laying here in front of me dead half of his throat missing. His chest ripped open, his heart most likely missing.

I feel numb. Slowly I start to look up my eyes traveling up the length of Jennifer’s body reaching her eyes I stop. Our gazes lock and slowly an evil smile spreads across her face. Her eyes begin to glow a light shade of purple as her body morphs to resemble a smaller more feminine version of the monster inside the bar. “You know Mark I’ve always been in love with you,” she shifts closer to me “I waited and waited and finally the bitch left you.” I stand up and back up slowly my eyes never leaving hers. She cocks her head watching me and for every step I take back she takes one forward. Stopping, she shifts and begins to circle me. “When she left you I was so happy. I thought I could finally have you all to myself. But instead you went into a spiraling depression. I just couldn’t seem to get you no matter what,” she rasps. “Then finally tonight you ask,” her muzzle moves as if she’s smiling the skin around her eyes crinkling. She shifts again and brushes her body against me. For something so terrifying her fur feels soft and comforting. She tilts her head and lets out a long sigh.

“What are you?” With that question she freezes and turns to look at me. “We are Watchers. We are the creatures that live in shadows. We are the shadows. We’ve always been here. Always watching you humans every moves.” She looks up towards the moon. “I would have told you,” she pauses, “we’ve been ordered to kill. I knew we were going to attack the bar I just didn’t expect tonight, those morons didn’t bother to tell me.” She looks back at me meeting my gaze. It’s then I know that something’s going to happen to me and I brace myself. “Don’t worry dear Mark. I’ve got something special just for you.” She lets out a low growl and narrows her eyes. Crouching, a large grin creeps across her face as she lets out a light giggle. She lunges and I feel her weight hit me before everything goes black.

[freedomofillusion-blog]

Afraid || Michael Clifford AU

Pairing: Michale X Y/N

Your POV Fear. Fear in its coldest form struck my being. All around me, the ground shook and rubble fell. Lights flashed and sirens rang. The world was crashing, blinding with hot white rage everything in its wake.

Michael. I needed to find him.

The screams were deafening. They were petrifying, perhaps even more so than the bullets that later silenced them. Bodies littered the airport floor, a sea of red drowned their presence.

Was he dead? Was I too late?

Questions flooded my mind, aggravating my head pain. My feet dragged me along, but the world swayed too much and after a few steps I would fall back down. Black dots danced before my eyes, distracting me from the masked people who stole every life they could find.

Is this the way I go? In the blown-up airport with a bullet through my skull next to strangers with alike fate?

Away from him?

Those who were strong enough would try to fight their assailants; some would rise, whilst others would fall. Hoards of terrorists flowed through open spaces and blown-up walls. A bullet ricocheted behind me and I take it as my cue to stand up.

I run. Over the mauled bodies, victims of the mayhem that now filled the once glorious edifice. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a tall man in a black mask running towards me. He brandishes a bloody knife and a crazed smile. My soon-to-be-murderer tackles me to the ground and aggressively presses the edge of the blade to my throat. The rapid beating of my heart bounces against the wet, cool metal, threatening to suffocate me. Above me, the masked man laughs and I see his eyes for the first time. Hazel eyes, beautiful even, stare straight into my soul. His laugh, on the other hand, is putrid and rancid, and suddenly I want to scream. Aggressive hands roam up my body and grab at it, hitching up my shirt, revealing, even more, skin. Scared tears leaked out of my eyes as I frantically tried to push the man off me. However, this seemed to aggravate his behavior. I cried out for help but only felt his hand move south and tug at my pants. He started to unbutton his pants and I kicked at his face and tried to scurry away. Behind me, the animal growled and yanked at my legs, causing my hands to give out and my chin to smack harshly into the ground.

My vision fogged up and I prayed silently for it to remain that way; I didn’t want to see what would happen next.

I’m sorry, Michael. A solitary tear rolled down my cheek.

Blood slid down my throat and to my worst nightmare, I regained my senses.

Please.

Suddenly, a guardian angel, my guardian angel. A madden scream echoes throughout the broken night and I see a flash of pale white hair. The rapist is off of me in a flash and I see Michael on top of him. His face scares me for a second. Green eyes which I usually found soothing were crazed with madness. Mikey’s face contorted angrily as he delivered puncturing blows at the hazel-eyed man.

“Mikey!” I yelped as I wiped violently at my tears. His face turned towards me, his same maniac expression brandished before me. In a flash, it was gone and a broken one replaced it, much like my very own.

“Y/N…” he whispered, staring into my eyes as if were a ghost. Michael had his arms around me in a second and he carried me behind a counter where we were now safely hidden.

We cried.

All around us, the world was falling, but we had found each other. His hands grasped at my face and traced the outline of my lips. His face fell as he noticed my broken state. My cheeks and chin were bruised and a small gash decorated my neck. My hair was messily pulled out of my braid and dry tears and blood sat caked on my face. Michael started sobbing and new tears streamed down his face as his eyes traveled souther. The lace underwear set that I had worn that day for his eyes only was now torn-up. He leaned down and placed butterfly kisses on belly whilst gently buttoning my pants and fixing my shirt. His body radiated with heat, and hope seeped back into my body. I could no longer feel the terrorist’s hands on my body, only Michael’s. He enveloped me in his strong arms, holding and gripping tightly at my body, as if afraid that I would be ripped away from him again. He whispered sweet nothings into my ear and chanted ‘I love you’s’. Likewise, I grasped desperately at his back, holding on to him. “I should’ve never gone to the bathroom,” he joked lightly but his sad eyes spoke differently. My hand reached up for his cheek and I wiped away his tears, “We’re okay.”

We were okay.

The moment was gone. He helped me off the floor and shielded me as he glanced around the deserted corridor. Our footsteps were barely heard as we tiptoed through the airport cemetery. On the far right, a woman sobbed as a man held a gun at her temple. She gazed up and held eye contact with us. With her thumb and forefinger, she blessed us with the Sign of the Cross and Michael pulled me towards a gap in the adjacent wall. He muffled my sobs with his hand as we heard a deafening gunshot. In front of us, the murderer sauntered not a second later and Michael’s grip on me tightened. The person, however, missed us and kept walking.

Once out of sight, Michael gently led me out of our hiding zone. A sudden urge to throw up hit me as we were met with the lifeless body of the woman who had blessed us not a while ago. I sat on my knees and considered checking for a pulse, but knew it was of no use. She lay in an unnatural position but her body still radiated heat. The woman had a beautiful face, creamy brown eyes were encompassed by high cheekbones and a few wrinkles were etched on her forehead. Her ruby red lips, although split and bruised, contrasted her dark brown hair. My chest ached and I wanted to wake up from this horrible nightmare.

Was she a mother? A daughter? A wife? Will they ever find her?

I brought my shaking hands to her lifeless eyes and closed them. I did as she had a while ago and blessed her, Dios la bendiga.

Behind me Michael placed his hands on my shoulders, “Love we have to go,” he urged. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to no one in particular. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up. His red lips were on my knuckles and moments later on my own chapped ones, briefly pressing a loving kiss.

We had few other encounters throughout our escape. By now, everyone had either been killed or had escaped the airport. The wing where we were waiting for our flight was now overrun by the sound of bullets emerging from the police guns and the occasional small explosion. We joined a group of 7 other survivors, a married couple with a pair of 5-year-old boy/girl twins who had had the luck of sticking together, a short businessman, a college girl, and a surfer, who despite everything that had happened, would not stop hitting on me. Needless to say, Michael put an end to it quickly.

After a while of walking, our group eventually reached an exit, or well a big hole in a wall which lead to the outside of the airport. I could see ambulances and police cars dotted outside. We were almost there when we heard them. Behind us, a small group of men in black masks had spotted us. A tense atmosphere suddenly struck us all. No one moved. Not a man, woman or child dared breath a single word. However, just as it came, it went. As if in slow motion, we all ran for cover, the attackers grabbed their machine guns, and the police started shooting.

Michael tackled me to the ground and shielded my body with his. Beside us, the twins screamed as bullets ricocheted all around us. A startling scream rattled my nerves and a feeling of horror settled in me as the surfer’s now lifeless body fell on top of Michael and I. It was my turn to scream. I don’t remember for how long I screamed, perhaps enough to leave Michael deaf, but I do remember how the following events unfolded.

A squad of armed policemen came through the hole in the wall and helped the family to cross first, telling the rest of us to stay put. However whilst exiting the building, all hell broke lose. Two stray bullets hit the mom in the chest and her body fell forward along with the boy twin. The boy sprawled out of her loving arms and struggled to drag his little body towards the now dead woman. The little boy screamed and held her mother’s face as tears began decorating his face. In an instant, that little boy became a man and, once stripped of his innocence, I saw him stand taller and stare at the men in front of him, the ones who had murdered his mother. I remember his dad and sister being hauled by two heavily armed men out of the edifice, the little boy left behind. My body reacted before my mind as I suddenly felt myself breaking free of Michael’s grip and dashing for the little boy who so bravely stared at the masked men, ready to go out staring at them in the eye.

My arms barely grazed him when a bullet embed itself in his tiny skull and sent him flying backward. Something snapped inside me that instant. Time slowed down once again and I turned around to look at Michael, horror etched across his face. He screamed something but I couldn’t hear. I saw a block of debris next to me, but as soon as I was about to dive behind it, I felt my left side light on fire. I looked down at my stomach to find a patch of red spreading through my shirt as I fell slowly to the ground; I had been shot. Michael screamed my name and I started seeing black spots. Scorching pain stabbed at me as I swam between the lines of reality.

The last thing I remembered was his handsome, weeping face.

I don’t remember being lifted into his arms and hauled into an ambulance. I don’t remember Michael holding onto my hand like a lifeline. I don’t remember him kissing my forehead and telling me how much he loved me during the ambulance ride to the hospital. I don’t remember him refusing to let me out of his sight once inside the hospital. I don’t remember him spending his days besides me as I slept profusely in the overpacked hospital. I don’t remember Michael skyping with the boys and my family, who couldn’t come for me as the airport was completely destroyed. I don’t remember him attempting to braid my hair the way he knew I liked to and singing to me softly mellow tunes. I don’t remember how he cried at night, telling me that that should be him, not me. I don’t remember him nearly killing a doctor when he said that I was taking up needed space.

But I do remember waking up.

His handsome face was once again the first thing I saw. He cried and hugged me to his heart, stroking my (thanks to him), neatly braided hair. He placed his lips sheepishly at first on my own, as if afraid that he would hurt or startle me. I threaded my hands through his hair and twirled a few strands with my fingers. He smiled lovingly into the kiss and deepened it, his hands moving carefully to my waist, “I love you.” Michael started planting kisses all over my face, “Don’t ever leave me again,” he whispered as he grabbed both my hands in both of his large ones.

“Never.”

by: Freedom of Illusion ✘

p.s. please don’t steal my work :(

[josiebelladonna]

Dear Soundgarden fans,

what the fuck is wrong with you? Really, what is with you?

It's as if you all speak a language that I'm trying to learn but if I ever do because I'd make your heads explode, so you keep me at arm's distance. Those of you close to the Cornells are just as bad, if not worse. Hey, I met Chris, I wrote to Ben, and all four of those boys are fans of my art but I don't feel the need to shove it down people's throats all the damn time.

I can't speak to any of you anymore. I feel like such an alien when I'm around one of you. You all would socialize with someone ~your own size~ but God forbid someone like me would ever want to be your friend. God forbid someone like me would ever want to share with you and be authentic with you because you don't know how to act around me. You think I'm this ugly, unintelligent, untalented, bitter hag who feels deserving of attention because she's young and listens to Soundgarden. You think I’m the Anti Christ. Go on, say it. I'll wait.

And if someone like me does come along, odds are they're probably the biggest dick this side of the Mississippi had ever seen. They're truly arrogant but you fail to see it because they're a reflection of you and you like them for it.

Such is the case with allthingssoundgarden.

I don't ever mean to cause drama or “throw shade” as we all say in this day and age, but I can't see what's so great about that idiot. He's arrogant, entitled, obnoxious, and has a blatant disregard for anyone outside his clique. I always say consider it an honor that you know me and have me as a friend. Not to sound arrogant myself, but that's just how I am.

Him? Forget it. When I was following him, he couldn't care less if I died today. He's also one of those people who likes to talk down to anyone outside his clique. More often than not, when I follow someone—because I have an obsessive personality—there will be times when I feel like I'm pestering them and I'll launch into this spiral of self hatred, like “God, why did do that? Now they're going to think I'm a freak!” For example, I feel that way with Chris sometimes and I felt that way when I wrote to Ben last year.

But with allthingssoundgarden, that feeling was taken up several notches. I think it had to do with the fact that he made me feel less than welcome, like I had no business following him. The fanbase here on Tumblr is starting to go that way, too: I often feel weird for fangirling and showing some love for Ben and my favorite band.

This fanbase has made it very difficult for me to actually be me. When I'm not myself, you all encourage me with the same Audioslave song title over and over again. When I am myself, I get muzzled, scolded that it's not okay to be me, and patronized for wanting to be your friend.

But then I remember you're the same bunch of people who thrive off of the nostalgia craze that's happening right now. You're the same bunch of people who chant “new Soundgarden!” and in the same breath you say “Audioslave reunion tour!” You're the same bunch of people who wanted a new Soundgarden album but when King Animal came out you bitched about it. You're the same bunch of people who will gladly follow each other but when someone like me comes along, you seem less than enthusiastic because you know I'm different. You tell me to run to you when someone's giving me a hard time, but when it actually happens you treat it as Cassandra Truth. You say you’re a friend to me but when I disappear and make an announcement of it (especially when I announce it) you wonder what happened.

So with that I'm leaving this shithead fanbase. Don't try to pull me back either, because I know what the response is going to be: “Nooooo! Don't goooo! We need you and your art is awesome!”

You want to know something? Every time you say that or something like it, you instill resentment. You are the owner of your emotions, yes, but by saying that you make me hate you. You make me want to do some monumental damage to you with 4th of July playing in the background. I came from a family that liked to guilt trip and poison me with their malice; you're not going to fool me with that nonsense (“your art is awesome” doesn't mean shit to me anymore anyways, but that's beside the point). I don't want to hate you, or any human being, because hate makes people fly airplanes into buildings; hate causes horrific mass shootings; hate gets a spiteful bully elected to the White House. So I don't want to hate you.

But this is for my own good. This is for your own good. We're not meant for each other. I'm still a Soundgarden fan (to the day I die!) but I'm done with you, Soundgarden fanbase.

If you understand, I'll know where you stand with me. But if you don't, I expect that.

For the record, I’m not going to be one of those people who says “oh my god, I wasted so much time doing this thing!” Listen, you don’t waste time when it comes to finding out what works for you and what doesn’t.

[countingfights]

April 24th 2017, 22:32

I just came into my room. I’m sitting cross legged on top of my bedding, laptop on my lap, recounting all that happened tonight so I could type it here.

Dad and I had a fight. A big one. Mom is working the night shift, but I don’t know how involved she’d get. N and her fought really badly before mom left for work and mom walked out the door without giving me a kiss goodbye.Those are a tradition in our family, you never leave the house without a kiss goodbye. She said “lock behind me” and walked out. I sound childish and probably spoiled, but it won’t change how hard that little action actually stung.

Fast-forward to tonight around 20:00.

N, dad and I are sitting downstairs watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, which I suggested. I found about the show here on Tumblr and started watching alone a few days ago, but dad saw glimpses of it while I watched and started doing the same himself. And so we’re watching. We watched a few episodes before dad told us to unload the dishwasher and hang the laundry to dry. N said she’d do the dishes and I the laundry. 

I brought the laundry downstairs and was about to start hanging it on a hanging rack which already had a few shirts and socks on it, when dad told me to move the socks from the main part of the rack to the wings.

I started doing just that when dad said I was doing it wrong. I paused my actions because I was doing it exactly like I do every time, the way mom taught N and me, and the same way we’ve been doing it for years.

Dad said I must put the socks all next to each other and hang them differently or they wouldn’t dry. Funny how they always dried before. Anyway, I continued the work like he said, or how I thought he said, when he got louder and yelled that I was doing it wrong again, that I’m not listening to him. I said I was listening, but the socks couldn’t go any closer to each other or they wouldn’t be able to dry. He got up and started hanging socks completely next to each other, practically no space in between and was shouting and insulting me the entire time, saying that I’m either doing it on purpose to anger and spite him or that I’m just  plain stupid and can’t understand what he’s saying. I knew things were starting to escalate, so I tried telling him that I wasn’t trying to spite him, that the socks simply can’t go that close or they won’t dry and that I’m doing the same as we always do, the way mom taught me. He continued on shouting and saying I didn’t learn anything because I never listen and am only ever concerned about myself. At this point I had backed up because he was waving his arms around and I didn’t want him to start throwing punches because of my proximity. N was in the kitchen, unloading the dishwasher and told him that we do, in fact, always do it that way and that I wasn’t doing anything wrong.

I don’t know exactly how things happened next, but I must have said something that crossed the line. I always seem to do just that when I try to calm the situation down. To no one’s surprise, the fight escalated.

 After the argues from both ends (which had to last at least 5 minutes), he told me to do what I wanted, he didn’t care. I started where I left off, hanging the laundry the way I thought was right. I tried moving the socks he hanged, in order for them to be able to dry. Unfortunately he didn’t let me do that. He exploded into a full out rage monster. He started yelling at me in earnest and I couldn’t hold myself back anymore, I “talked back”. I was convinced I was doing the right thing with the laundry and that his way won’t work and I told him so and said I don’t want to fight, that let’s please not fight, why are you searching for excuses to start a fight when there are none? I don’t want to fight, I’m not talking back to you, I’m just trying to tell you that I did it like I was taught to and how we always do and I don’t see how we got to this moment, why are you trying to provoke me into fighting you I don’t want to fight. It’s funny how everything is talking back, even when I’m trying to defend my actions for which even N vouched and I’m seriously trying to hold myself in check. 

When I backed up and away from him, he advanced in to my personal space and hit me. I snapped.

I pushed him away and yelled not to hit me. He hit me again, harder, ignoring my shouts. I pushed him again and hit him a few times on the shoulder, each hit followed with don’t beat me anymore, you can’t beat me anymore I won’t let you, I’m too old for you to beat me anymore. I guess my strength wasn’t enough even accompanied with adrenaline rush, because he pushed me into the nearest wall and I fell on the ground. No wait. That was before I hit him. 

The first time I fell was after I pushed him away from me and after he first hit me. It was like this, he hit me, I pushed him away and told him not to hit me anymore, then he advanced at me and pushed me into a wall hard enough for me to lose my footing and fall to the ground. At that point I was crazed with anger and sadness and the feeling of injustice and years of wanting to fight back, to stop him from beating the shit out of me, so I pushed myself up and pushed him away from me. Then I hit him. And I hit him again. And again. And again. I did it so fast, it all lasted maybe 5 seconds- I guess I lost control the second I hit the ground that first time. 

Of course, that did nothing to him, maybe fazed him a bit, but obviously not enough, because the next moment, my back are against the wall, in a corner across the basement door his hands on my left wrist and elbow, twisting my arm into an unnatural angle. There was a split moment of heavy sadness when my brain registered He’s trying to break your arm. I wasn’t even mad when I realized, I was just sad. Every other emotion was replaced with sadness and disappointment. That lasted for one second, tops.

I started twisting away, pushing at him and screeching, last of my sanity gone flying out the window. He hit me hard enough for me to bounce against the wall again and once more fall to the ground. I backed into the corner, him towering over me. I screamed Get away from me. He didn’t. I screamed it again. He hit me. I kicked at him with my legs, screamed again, louder this time. I continued screeching that same sentence, it became a chant. I couldn’t recognize my voice, It was so different, bent and high ans deep and wrong and didn’t sound anything like me. I was screaming incredibly loud and  I know that dad’s brother and his family who live across the wall (we share the same house, but there’s a wall in the middle of it so each family has their own part) heard everything. I mean, we hear the chairs being shifted in their dining room and them climbing the stairs, and those aren’t loud actions. If I rank the loudness from 1 to 10, those are 1 and my screams were at least 14. I’m not surprised they did nothing, they’re probably used to the sounds of fighting from our side of the house, and probably didn’t want to get involved because that would create an even bigger mess later on, but still. If you heard your sibling’s child screeching in terror and panic for their father (for whom everyone know is abusive, just pretend he’s not) to stay away from them, would you do nothing? You don’t have to answer that. Who am I to talk, anyway, I’d probably do the same. Or I wouldn’t, I don’t know, I don’t know anything about myself or anyone anymore I have to stop thinking about all of this I’m already unstable as it is, god I’m making so many spelling errors right now I have to stop typing.

Okay, I can continue now. 

He did eventually back away, but not before shouting at me some more. I don’t know what he said, I didn’t listen. I sat in the corner with my knees on my chest, my hands clutching and pulling my hair, my breathing fast and shallow. I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs, I felt like I was going to suffocate. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t blink. I breathe normally. I think I had some kind of a meltdown or something, my mind was in rambles and I couldn’t stop shaking and crying. 

Dad yelled at me to shut up. My breathing was too loud. I didn’t even try to listen and even if I did, it wouldn’t work. He shouted again after a few moments. Again, fruitless. He got up from the couch where he sat across the room and started advancing at me again, causing me to curl up even more, thus making my breathing even harder, and sink my nails into my scalp. I have bloody little half moons there now, but thankfully they can’t be seen because of the hair. 

He crouched down next to me and growled at me to look at him. I couldn’t,of course,and most importantly, didn’t want to but he kept repeating it until I finally did, almost a minute later. He was saying something through his teeth, but I don’t know what. I listened at the time, but now I’m trying and failing to remember what it was that he said.  I don’t know how things played out next, but I ended up upstairs, him telling me from downstairs to shower and go to bed. That was around 21:15. I said no. My voice was still weird, even though I didn’t shout. My breathing was still heavy, fast and too loud. I started pacing the hallway. He kept saying to go to bed, angrily, and I kept answering no. I wasn’t exactly lucid, because my reason to say no was that I was thinking about the best way to leave the house so I could breathe again, because there is air outside and I can’t breathe so I can’t go to bed and sleep if I can’t breathe. I had so many emotions mixed inside me and I was crying at pulling at my hair and I don’t even know how I remembered that I have to calm down. I wen’t into the bathroom but lights bothered me and so I didn’t turn on the lights. I turned the tap on and cupped my hands to let the water pool, then started poring handful after handful of water over my face and eventually leaned my forehead on the tap and listened to the water flow and hit the porcelain. But then I remembered If the water was on too long, dad will get mad again and so I turned off the water and went to my room. I took my drawing book, my pencil case, turned off the main light leaving the desk lamp on, and sat in the corner between the closet and the bookshelf/closet thing, I can’t think of a better name for it. I curled up and wanted to wait out my breathing back to normal. Guess, guess, that didn’t get it’s chance to actually happen.

Dad called from downstairs do come down if I didn’t put my sleeping clothes on. I said No. This went on for a minute or so, him telling me to come downstairs or he’ll come up (after hearing that I unconsciously started pulling at my hair again) and me saying I cant’ and No, let me calm down. He came up into my room with false calmness and clenched teeth and started pulling me out of the corner. I fought him and tried to twist away, but then he grabbed the sketchbook which was still in my hands. If I regained any control and sanity, that disappeared in that very moment. 

I have one rule I need people to understand. Nobody touches my drawings without my permission and nobody messes with them. He did destroy a few of my drawings during our fights over the years and every single time my reactions were the same. If I was angry, I became livid. Compare regular rainy afternoon to a hurricane and you’l understand the difference of before and after somebody messes with my drawings.

He grabbed the sketchbook and tried pulling it away from me. I wrapped my arms around it and wouldn’t let go, telling him in a low voice that promised violence if not obeyed to let the notebook go. He didn’t. The pull from both ends caused the hard  cover of the sketchbook  to bend. He wasn’t about to let it go and I saw it on his face that he wouldn’t care if it broke in two, which it seemed would happened in the next 5 seconds. Caring more about the drawings than my pride, I let go and he tossed the notebook on my bed and immediately grabbed my arms to haul me up. I wrenched out of his hold and backed into the corner, screaming at him that he broke my drawings. I told him that I have that one rule, but I didn’t scream it. My voice got really low and threatening and my body was seconds away from breaking into a frenzy and destroying everything in my way, including people, but I kept calm while saying that. Made it perfectly clear. It was weird actually one second I’m shouting that he destroyed my work the next I appear calm (I was so far from calm I don’t know I did that) and tell him about the rule. It was like two different people. One hysterical screamer, the other emotionless murderer. And I think... I think I’d do it. If I was pushed just a little bit more I’d be able to do it. I was on the edge and one leg already above the drop. Now when I think about it I don’t know how to feel about that. I mean it wasn’t the first time I thought about murder, but some rational part of me always knew I wouldn’t be able to go through with it. Those 2 minutes? Fuck everything, I’m scared, but I think I’d actually be able to. 

He then told me to go downstairs. I said no. We bickered, me no longer holding back my thoughts I said exactly what I wanted and vocalized the feeling his actions and words awoke in me the exact way that I felt them. No filter, so to say. Eventually, I was yet again the one to let go first and told him I’d go only if he got out of my room first. It took 2 times, but he did go out. I wen’t to my bed, straightened my sketchbook and went by him and downstairs, sketchbook in hand, him telling me to finish hanging the laundry. I scoffed. He didn’t react.

After I finished the laundry, he made me sit on the couch opposite of his own and then he started talking. Usually, this meant he’d monologue for half and hour, dismiss all and every of my words of defense and piece offering by twisting my words and making me feel guilty or at least trying to do so. Not this time. I didn’t let him do that. I calmly argued my points as long as I could but considering I had some sort of break down not too long before, my calm didn’t last long and I was shaking and crying soon again, but didn’t stay quiet and let him insult me, twist my words and make himself the victim and the saint again. As the “talking” progressed he called me stupid, told me to fuck off, said he allows me to draw ugly drawings and put them on my walls, called me stupid some more, told me I provoke him on purpose and tried twisting my words when I defended myself. I called him out on that multiple times. Didn’t do any good.

Soon I grew too tired of being near him and told him I wanted to go upstairs. Oh, right I forgot to mention, by this time my phone and the old laptop he no longer uses and which I adopted as mine were downstairs and the rule that said I am never allowed to close my bedroom door ever again was installed. To no surprise, I was denied my insulting wish to go to my room and finally calm down. The arguing and begging and crying and pulling at hair continued. Eventually, he turned away from me, started Brooklyn Nine Nine again and told me to lie down on the couch and calm down. I told him I won’t be able to calm down if I do that and asked him once more to let me go upstairs. Again, it went back and forth and he said I could go if I sat on the couch and calmed down. I knew I wouldn’t be able to calm down near him and doing what he told me to do, because yes I am just that petty, but I willed myself to sit down and stare at a spot behind the tv until I could go. After a few minutes of silence except for the show, he told me I could go upstairs.

I took my sketchbook and started for the stairs before asking if I could take my phone too. He looked at me for a few seconds, sighed and said that of course I could, phone and the laptop. Honestly, I was surprised, usually I wouldn’t push my luck but it payed off this time that I actually didn’t care and did it.

I took my stuff was already on the 4th step when he stopped me and got up and said something calmly that was  almost an apology. I don’t like his apologies, because it feels like I have to accept them or he gets pissed again and I look like a bitch, but if I do,everything is supposed to be sunshine and rainbows again. Like, fuck that. I hold grudges and fuck everything if I’ll pretend beatings and screaming and insulting didn’t happen. BUT I’m a bitch for doing that right? Of course I am, his apologies are gold that must me cherished and accepted with smiles and hugs and forgiveness and whatnot, because my talking back and my rude attitude and constant disrespect have caused him to react and he’s my father and he’s older than me and I must respect him and so it is all justified when he “loses control”.

We hugged. I told him not to beat me again. He said he won’t. He kissed me on the forehead. I was still crying a bit. He told me not to cry, all very gentle and everything. I came to my room, shut the lights, turn on my laptop, logged in to tumblr and now I’m writing this.

I don’t know what to do. Am I a bad person for feeling like forgiving him during the hug but being so bitter and salty and still slightly angry now? And I just know I won’t be able to talk t him normally or act normally around him for a few days again. And I’ll be a bitch because of that. And despite the piece making and the touching end of our fight, I know it will happen again. I know he’ll forget everything I told him tonight the first time I overstep my boundaries again and he reacts. I try not to do it. I try not to make him angry, but it’s hard to respect the boundaries when you don’t know where they are. A joke?Is it allowed? When everyone else gets that it’s just a well meaning teasing meant for nothing more but smiles and laughter, he sees it as a disrespect and open provoking and disrespecting. Or when I don’t hear him correctly and ask him to repeat himself? Is that allowed? Am I really such a trash for not hearing what you said that you have to insult me and yell? Dad, I love you, I don’t want to make you angry, I hate fighting with you, I’m not doing it on purpose, I hate that I can’t recognize the boundaries even though I try and when I relax too much I end up screwing it all up, and make you angry, I’m sorry, I hate that part of myself. Do you know how much I sometimes hate myself? Or even more often, how I feel nothing at all? How many times I thought about not being alive? About hurting myself because I keep thinking against my rational side and keep saying to myself that I deserve it for being such a terrible, disrespecting daughter? That I have hurt myself? With my own fingernails, with my fists, banging my head against hard surfaces until I’m dizzy, hitting my legs and arms where bruises won’t be visible under clothing, liking the way blood looks on my skin when I accidentally cut myself while shaving, liking the way it trickles out of the small wounds. And then I berate myself, telling myself that it’s not the answer, that I shouldn’t do that, and I feel awful and then I don’t even know what I feel and then I feel bad, because I have almost everything that I wish, I’m healthy I have a family and I still act like that, so ungrateful, when there are people on this world who have it so much worse than I do and, dad I don’t know anything and here I am puring my heart out on a blog nobody reads, as a way to try to cope with what I feel and I don’t know anything.

I want to tell my psychology professor, but i don’t want to and she already asked me if I’m okay a few times and B told me I should talk, but nottell if I’m not ready, but I’ll never be because I’ll destroy our family in the process, and I can’t live like that, but I can’t like this either and it’s so selfish and spoiled of me to say so, because I am so blessed yet so ungrateful and it’s probably all my fault but I’m too proud and stupid to see it and I’m just a brat but I still need a way to vent these thoughts out because, yes I am weak and too emotional for my own good and so I made this stupid blog to document everything and I spent to much time writing this, thinking I’ll feel better but I feel so much worse because I don’t know what it is that I’m feeling and this will so reflect on my motivation and behavior and I won’t study anything because I won’t see the point even though a voice in my head, one of the many, will be telling me to do it, but I won’t do anything except procrastinate because that makes me smile and happy, and I’ll just bang a heel of my palm against my forehead until I’m dizzy again, and another voice will scoff at me for being so dramatic and cliche and ugh I’m so tired.

End of writing, 2:26 am

[rickfallsforgravity]

Diamond Crystals

(Rick x Reader horror, angst, fluff // Trigger warnings: Mental illness, self harm, hallucinations, gore) Foreword: Here’s some Rick Sanchez writing because I haven’t done some in a while. Also this is my 100th post :D This is kinda horror/angst/fluff? so yeah uh enjoy!

I lay in bed, the folds of the blanket tucked around me, cocooning me into a nest of warmth and comfort-

But I felt neither of those things. 

The sickness pooling from my stomach, tainting my breath with a bitter after taste. Leaking out from me like I was a broken pipe, dripping, slowly until everything around me was corrupted with bile and sewage. Black with anger. Black with frustration. Black with disgust for myself. 

I sat up, wincing as the blood rushes to my head. How long had I been lying here for? How many days have I not eaten for? The whole world spinning so viciously- too fast- I just want to-

I slumped back down, tears turning the furniture into mere blobs of colour, running down their well-travelled paths across my skin. Following the crinkles and fault lines that were engrained into my features. The air tarnished by stillness, the stagnancy making it suffocating. I struggled to breath, sobs racking my lungs, making them raw and tender. Again. 

Always happening again. 

I was a broken record player, unable to be fixed, my life just a dull, painful repeat of the same day over and over again. Sleep, cry, repeat, sleep, cry- The cycle only interrupted by futile attempts to dull or distract myself from the pain. I looked down at my wrist, the many attempts evident across my skin. Red, angry scars that hurt to touch, scattered sporadically up my arms- sleeves of affliction. 

Just a pathetic little shit

-

Rick slammed the door of the space ship shut behind him as he settled into the driver’s seat. The plastic bag of food and supplies discarded to the passenger seat as he turned the key in the ignition and the vehicle came to life with a low hum. He sighed. This whole situation was his fault, he should have never have brought you with him on that adventure. He knew that they had come up with a new poison in their weapons, one that HE KNEW lead to psychosis and severe bouts of depression, but that was why he brought you on along. The strong, sensible, intelligent and ultimately emotionally stable (Y/n). He had thought this through- the drug only affected people susceptible to mental illness, who were insecure, who weren’t happy. It was why he hadn’t brought Morty or Beth or fucking Summer. He had chosen you, because you were happy. 

How fucking wrong he had been. 

The symptoms had not shown up immediately. When you were hit by the dart it seemed to have the opposite effect, boosting you with adrenaline. You had fought like a fucking machine that day… and he knew he had not been wrong. He was almost proud of you. But as the next few weeks enfolded, you started to crack. The darkness taking hold so slowly it was impossible to notice until your sleeve had slipped a little too far up your arm one day. When he saw them, the cuts, he had frozen. He had PANICKED. You were still the same. Still happy, still ambitious, still strong. How had that happened? How had it slipped past him-

The truth was that he hadn’t been watching, he had been too sure of himself. But all the signs were as clear as day. And it only got worse. 

Rick smashes his arm upon the steering wheel, frustration and anger buzzing in his being. And the worst thing was that there was no cure. He just had to wait it out, just had to go through with it and let the venom work itself out of your system. He felt helpless, the smartest man in the world yet he had his hands tied. 

-

I clasped my fists around my ears. The voices starting up again, singing their sweet lullaby that dripped through the holds of imaginations into reality, saturated with self-loathing and truth. Their desire made as clear as diamond crystals as they started to dominate over my senses. Bodies and beings flashing before me in the dark, standing and watching me unravel into their claws. 

“You’re not real- Your all part of the drug- y-our not r-real," 

Their calls turning into screams, so loud my head wanted to explode. Their eyes dark and cold, the little light the bedroom contained glinting off them, revealing nothing but the abyss. The oblivion. The emptiness that took hold when the pain subsided…

"FUCK OFF” I shouted at them, fresh tears blossoming, blurring everything but them. No, they- they were as clear as day- as clear as diamond crystals. A scream escaped my lungs as I pressed my face into the mattress, my effort to block them out only making them angrier. I needed to stay strong, I needed to keep trying, for Rick, for him-

I gasped- teeth ripping at the flesh of my forearm, blood dripping onto pillowcase, blooming into the fabric. And it just stood there, the monster. It’s beady eyes sunken deep into its skull, it’s skin shrivelled and decaying in front of me. Slowly, it started to smile, the terrifying grin spreading like an infection, stretching from ear to ear, revealing millions of tiny shards of teeth as sharp as razor blades… smeared in my blood. The cuts in my arm ripped open, spurting fresh colour. 

I fell silent. No scream could capture the horror I felt. Slowly, I reached down and pressed my thumb against the wound, the warmth of my life coating my fingertips. Oh god… this was REAL. THIS WAS ALL REAL. I stumbled out of bed, falling onto the floor, their random singing turning into a singular, godforsaken chant. 

This has all happened before, this will all happen again. 

“No-no stop please- please stop” my voice hardly above a whisper. Not this again- I can’t- it will never end- I can’t go on anymore. I stumbled about in the dark until I felt my fingers grasp the edge of the window sill. On trembling limbs, I pulled myself up to it, shoving back the curtains to look out into the dark, bleak but star-studded night. The orchestra of delusions humming behind me, their melodies agreeing with my growing need. I brought my hands up to the glass, ready to push against it, for it to open, for me to fall 20 stories out of my apartment window and into oblivion-

It was locked. I faltered for a moment before a new wave of panic awashed my veins. I banged against the glass, trying to force it open, to break the lock. No. No- NO! There was no escaping them. I was trapped in here with the demons; the hideous, shark teeth monsters and I was trapped here alone. Where was he? Why wasn’t Rick here? 

-

You should have been alright. Rick had taken extra precautions as he knew he was leaving you on your own. He had thrown out every sharp object in the house, every pill available, all the ropes, bolt locked all the windows. Before he left he had even given you sleeping pills, which should knock you out for a few hours until he was back- but worry still pricked his mind. This venom was unpredictable, making the victim irrational and emotion. Sometimes, you were fine, it would seem like you were getting better, coping… but then you would relapse even worse than ever, plagued by hallucinations and suicidal thoughts. It infuriated him. He parked up his space ship and got into the lift. With a ding, the doors of the elevator opened to the 20th floor and that when he heard it. The screaming. 

“Fuck-” he shouted, dropping everything and rushing to the door. 

-

I crumpled to the ground, terrible visions of slaughter and violence dancing across my mind. Images of me, covered in blood, grinning from exhilaration as I stood over a pile of a thousand dead children. Images of me eating a lamb alive as it bleeped frantically from the excruciating pain. Images of me setting fire to a hospital, laughing as the people inside started screaming. This has all happened before, this will all happen again. No- I am not that person- I would never! THAT WAS NOT ME! IT W-asn’t wasn’t me… and the monster loomed over me, a shit eating grin tearing the skin around its mouth, salivating, my blood stained upon its teeth, dribble trickling down on me, making my skin crawl with disgust. And its intention was clear… it wanted revenge and it was going to taunt me until I lost all sanity- as clear as diamond crystals- terrify me, torture me, tear me apart. It wanted to see me suffer… and suddenly I caught my reflection in the mirror. Grey, dead skin pulled taunt against my skull, eyes sunken into sockets until they were just dots of black, mouth agape, revealing layers of maggot infested teeth. I screamed. The realisation shattering my mind into a billion fragments of glittering glass-

I was the monster… 

Suddenly, the bedroom door smashed open and there Rick stood, his tall stature silhouetted by the bright hallway light. His presence immediately silencing the voices, making the room fall into a toxic silence. I brought a bloody hand up to my face, shielding my eyes from the sudden brightness… A look of complete horror and shock contorted his familiar features. Pain glinting in his eyes. He staggered forward, taking me in, his chest rising and falling heavily. 

“(Y-y/n)" 

- 

The bedroom was like one from a horror movie; blood smeared along the floor and the walls, shimmering in the artificial sun. Prints of maroon and burgundy smudged against the glass from where you tried to force it open. But worst of all was you- 

Your wrist glistening with fresh blood that flowed down your arm, bite marks tearing it open. Shadowed eyes crazed and frantic, darting to and fro in a mad panic, terror still shining from the core of your being. And as Rick shifted his gaze, everything became crystal clear. Ruby smeared across your mouth and cheeks, specks of saliva dotting your clothes, the rich colours contrasting against your skin which had gone pale from blood loss. 

Obviously, he had seen you tear open your skin before when the delusions took hold; he was accustomed to the blood, but it had always been with an instrument- a knife, a pen, a sharp end of a folder. This time you had ripped open your life source… with your own bare teeth. 

"Fuck-” he rushed forward, his hands gasping around your body as he lifted you up. Your head resting against his cotton blue chest, vision glazing over. You didn’t resist as he moved you into the light, into the living room and sat you on the sofa. 

“I’m sorry, this was my fault, I shouldn’t have left you alone…” He said, his voice low but steady, soothing your head until you were sure you were safe. You look up to him, catching his eye, looking into his soul. “God-” he picked up his phone quickly dialling in Morty’s number, “Morty, I need you to come quickly. (Y-y/n)’s hurt really bad, they’re bleeding out-”

“Aw geez Rick, h-how did you let this happen? You- you- you know-”

“Don’t fucking lecture me Morty- its-it’s a code RED Morty, just- just come as quickly as you can and bring Summer!" 

Rick hung up and brought his attention back to you, quickly working to stop the bleeding and deal with your flesh wound. You groaned a little, head spinning off into the galaxies, as quickly as the earth twirls around its axis. And only one thing came clearly to you, one thing that was still tormenting your heart. 

"This will has all happened before, this will all happen again-” you muttered, letting the vibrations of it dance in the air like smoke. Letting it linger. Rick glanced at you, worry ageing him into an ancient being. 

“(Y/n)-" 

"Am I a bad person Rick? Did I do all those things they say I did?" 

He looked down at the white bandage wrapped tightly around your injury, his fingers brushing against the soft material.

"Am I a monster?" 

He flinched. It was all wrong… you were pure, and young and kind. Always had been. He had been the one to corrupt you, to destroy your morals, to disintegrate your virtue so that you were willing to help him. Manipulate your belief so that right was wrong, and nothing mattered. You were never the monster, because everything you ever did had always been for him. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell you that. 

“Shh baby, don’t-don’t think about it. It’s going to be okay…” His voice quiet, gentle almost. Calloused fingers wrapping tightly around your hand. Never letting go- not again- never again. Holding onto the faint pulse that drummed through your hand-

It faltered.

“STAY with me, promise you’ll stay with me.” His words suddenly surging with new energy, fear springing him to life as he grabbed your face to force your eyes to fixate solely on him.

“Promise ME!”

You stared at him, your thoughts a wild scatter of images and emotions- lost in haze that no one could fathom, not even you. Your eyes just a blank stare, like nothing that was happening had registered in your brain. But despite your condition, despite your disorientation, something momentarily pulled you back into focus. You recognised something that made your mind snap back in place- only for a second- Rick was crying…

And in that millisecond of sanity, of sudden rationalism, you managed to splutter the one truth that mattered the most.

“I promise.”

And then you were gone.  

Written by M.S.T