#compared to yesterday it's heaven. or the day before - I can't remember

[hsjazebel]

Desperate part 1*

Word count: 2387

A/n: This is the first part of a series. It’s the first time I’ve written in a long time so I hope you like it! Also I would like to thank @gurugirl for her help which was very important to me!💘

Content Warning: this is a dbf story so if you don’t like these kind of things please just don’t read it! 18+, age gap (15 years), female masturbation - that’s all for this part.

main masterlist | desperate masterlist

You never had so-called daddy issues as you always had a good relationship with your father, but there was something about that man with green eyes that made you feel desperate.

Your father had a large group of friends and they often organized parties and lunches or dinners together, but you never liked these things because there was no one of your age since everyone had younger children and the same age as your sister (so she often abandoned you to be with her friends) and because of this, you found everything very boring.

That is until a new figure appeared in the middle of a barbecue in your backyard: a handsome, curly-haired man with green eyes that seemed to peer into your soul.

You were sure you had never seen this man before because if you had you would definitely remember him given how amazingly handsome he was.

You were peacefully sunbathing on a lounger by the pool while continuing to watch videos on TikTok until your father arrived to interrupt your peace. “Y/n, I wanted to introduce you to someone! Harry. He arrived yesterday from London and as soon as I told him I was having a barbecue at home he wasted no time and arrived. Harry, this is my daughter Y/n!”

As soon as you lay eyes on Harry, your jaw nearly drops. You stand up and offer your hand to the man. “Nice to meet you, Harry.

“The pleasure is all mine. I’m surprised James has a daughter your age.”

You laugh at his joke; it was true many of your parents' friends were surprised when you said you were 23, given that both your parents were not yet 50.

Your hand is still in contact with Harry's and you honestly don't want to take it away, his hand was so big compared to yours and it was so soft and smooth. And then his beautiful voice with his English accent… oh god! You had always had a weakness for the English accent and hearing it on Harry you could say that you would imagine entering heaven like this.

“Let's say that Alice and I didn't wait long to get married and start a family, and she's not that big, she's still my little princess.” Your father's voice brings you back to reality and you feel Harry's hand slip away from yours. “Darling, Harry and I are going back to the others, I'll call you when lunch is ready!” And with that, he kisses you on the head and leaves with Harry not before the man with green eyes says goodbye to you.

After eating you decide to go back into the house to lie down for a while; staying in the sun all day had made you tired and in any case after lunch you always had the habit of taking a nap and the fact that your parents are having a party outside in your garden certainly won't stop you.

You get into the shower to get rid of the chlorine from the pool and also to cool off from all the heat today and finally get into your bed.

There's just one problem: after spending twenty long minutes tossing and turning in bed, you can't sleep, so you decide to do what you always do when you can't sleep: use your fingers to pleasure yourself. You slide your shorts down along with your panties and open your legs. You go straight to your clit because you know it's the fastest way to bring you to release and you start twisting your fingers quickly bringing dirty thoughts to your mind. But the only thing that appears in your head is the penetrating gaze of the English man you met not many hours ago and who is in your garden right now. You start to think about how good his hands would feel on you and how deep his voice would be as he whispers dirty things in your ear. Or how good his tongue would feel on your pussy and how quickly it would bring you to orgasm – because you could swear that man would know how to make a woman feel good. And so within a few minutes, you feel that feeling in your lower belly and you reach your orgasm with Harry in your mind.

You immediately feel tired all over your body and fall asleep soon after.

-

You didn't think you were that tired, but you were wrong because you woke up and the first thing you see when you open your eyes is your dog, Chery, lying on your legs - which you didn't even know how he got into your room seeing as the door was closed - and the alarm clock on your bedside table read 5:32 pm. You get out of bed and go to wash your face to try to remove some traces of sleep. Soon after you dress in a white top and a pair of shorts, pick up your dog, and go down to the living room.

As soon as you enter you notice from the glass doors overlooking the garden that all the guests have now left, but the thing that immediately catches your eye is Harry sitting on the sofa with your dad watching a football match. “Good morning sleeping beauty!” Your dad greets you.

“Mmh good morning,” you greet, putting your dog down and she jumps directly onto the sofa, placing himself next to Harry.

“There will be 5 of us this evening, Harry is also staying for dinner.”

“Yes, your father and I have a lot of time to catch up on,” Harry tells you with his beautiful smile that makes those pretty dimples of his appear that you want to touch with your index; and then those hands with which he is caressing Chery with… oh lord! Those same hands you fantasized about a few hours ago, with his long fingers and - ok maybe you shouldn't have thought so much about your father's friend like that but it wasn't your fault if he looked like a Greek god.

It's your father's voice that brings you back to reality, “I was thinking you could make your own special pasta, that dish is really delicious!”

“Oh, yes of course!”

Harry looks at you smiling and says, “I love pasta! I can't wait to taste it."

-

The dinner goes very well, you hear some anecdotes about your father's life as a teenager and you also discover that he was the most wanted boy at university! “I swear I remember being in the cafeteria one day and I heard this group of girls talking about how sexy James was and I was like what?? Are we talking about the same person?” Harry laughs.

And your father being the touchy man he is replies, “You're just jealous because they were talking about me and not you! If maybe at 21 you hadn't had long hair you would have seen that girls would have talked about you too!"

“Hey don't talk like that about my long hair,” Harry says putting a hand on his heart pretending to be hurt by your father's words.

And the evening continues like this, with constant banter between Harry and your father even when dinner is over and they decide to go out on the patio to drink a glass of whiskey while your mother goes to bed and you and your sister retire to your room.

"So Harry isn't that bad right?" Your sister starts. “If he wasn't Dad's friend I would also tell you to flirt with him.” Your eyelids widen at this statement and she continues, “Oh come on don't make that face, I know you think he’s sexy as hell.”

Well, actually your sister wasn't entirely wrong. “I can't deny he's handsome but I would never hit on him! He's dad's friend, like you said, and he'll be twice my age!"

“Yeah y/n as you say, but I know he has already enchanted you with his green eyes and his English accent! Goodnight and try not to dream about it,” she winks at you and walks out of your room leaving you alone.

You quickly realized that sleeping so much in the afternoon wasn't a great idea because you obviously weren't sleepy now and so you turned on the television to watch a few episodes of Friends while putting on a face mask.

After 5 episodes the tiredness was finally making itself felt so you decide to go to sleep, but you realize that the bottle of water on your bedside table is empty, and since you already know that you will wake up at night to drink, you take the bottle and go down to the kitchen to fill it up and finally, you can go to sleep afterward.

But what you don't expect when you get to the kitchen is to see Harry sitting on the couch reading a book. You remain frozen in your place for a moment, partly out of fear because certainly at this time of night, you weren't expecting anyone up, and also because you weren't expecting to see him.

He gives you a sweet smile as soon as he sees you, “Oh hi y/n! Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

“No, don't worry, I just didn't expect to see you here." You say as you walk behind the kitchen island to fill the bottle.

“Oh yes since while your father and I were talking it got late he offered me to stay here for the night and I accepted,” he follows you with his gaze as he closes the book and places it on the table placed in front of the sofa. “Sorry again for scaring you, I didn't think I'd find anyone awake at this hour. By the way, why are you awake?”

You finish filling the bottle by taking a sip and then reply, “I realized my bottle was empty so I came down to fill it. And I could ask the same question to you, why aren't you sleeping?”

"I wasn't sleepy either and I remembered that when I entered the house I had seen a bookshelf and I decided to stay here and read a bit, trying to get myself to sleep."

You approach the sofa where he is sitting, "What book did you choose?”

He takes it from the table and shows you the cover, "Dostoevsky's White Nights, I love this book."

Your eyes widen in surprise, "Oh my god it's my favorite book too! In fact, for the record, that book is mine.”

“So sorry for borrowing it without telling you,” he laughs. “So you like Russian literature?”

“We can say that I love literature in general, especially the classics. In Russian literature I especially love Dostoevsky and Tolstoy," you reply, sitting on the sofa, even if a little far from where Harry is.

“I've never read anything by Tolstoy, maybe I could ask you for some advice.”

“I would be more than happy to help you!”

So you start talking about this and that. You discover that he has a degree in economics and management and has his own company in London. He met your father at the university where they were both doing a master's degree.

“And what can you tell me about yourself? Do you study or work?" At this point, you both had moved a little closer to each other.

“I actually do both. I have been studying fashion marketing in Milan for two years and in the meantime, I work for an Italian fashion magazine!” You've always liked talking about what you study because it's been a great passion of yours since you were little and you still can't believe that you're doing your dream job.

“So you live in Milan? I have been there many times and I love that city as I love all of Italy.”

“Yes, I live in Milan but I always come back here in the summer to be with my family. And I love Italy too, everyone is so hospitable and nice!”

"You can say it for sure! And why did you decide to study in Italy from California? If I may ask,” he asks curiously.

“In reality, I have always liked the world of fashion and when I finished school I was sure of what I wanted to do. Then talking to Mum and Dad I tried to convince them to let me study abroad but Dad didn't seem very convinced, then in the end Mum convinced him and I started looking for a good course of study. I wasn't sure from the beginning about going to Milan but then thinking about it, that is the cradle of fashion and so I made my decision!”

“Wow, I'm really impressed y/n! And can you also speak Italian?”

“Well, I had to learn it to live by it even though my pronunciation isn't that perfect.”

“I also learned Italian during my business trips. It's a frequent destination and I've made a few friends who have taught me something!”

You end up talking about your experiences in Italy until you notice from the windows that the sky is starting to lighten, a sign that the sun will come out soon. Harry notices too and lets out a small laugh when you let out a yawn, covering your mouth with your hand, “Sorry, I think sleep is kicking in now,” you laugh too.

"Yes, you are right. I didn't realize how much time had passed. Maybe now it's time to go to sleep even if soon I think someone in your family will get up."

You nod in agreement with him, "Yes, you are right. I think it's time for bed!” You stand up and he does the same.

“Goodnight or rather buonanotte!” He tells you with the most beautiful smile you've ever seen.

“Buonanotte!” you reply and so you turn and walk towards the stairs to go back to your room, bringing to mind the words your sister had said to you hours before, “Try not to dream about him”. Maybe it will be a little difficult because when you finally get into your bed and close your eyes you see beautiful dimples and green eyes.

[thesmpisonfire]

So... Before the stream starts, I wanna talk a bit about Pac and how he has been developing to the point of sacrificing himself. Let's go besties!

(The video is this silent btw. This is how it was in the stream)

Pac feels completely alone. He said it himself, he doesn't has Mike, he doesn't has Richas, Forever lost his mind and Felps often disappears in his square

His decision to get the pills by sacrificing himself is the only way he feels able to help Cellbit, because it's just the two of them now. He feels he needs to do this because if he doesn't, someone else will do it, and he feels he's the only useless one

His suicidal tendencies have been getting worse, yesterday as he jumped on the mines he got to the point of bleeding out on the ground 5 times one after the other and have hallucinations that he was dying and going to heaven. He can't take this anymore. He can't take the solitude and the destruction around him and the hopelessness, he has to do something

It hurts me to think about his last interactions with his family. He pulled Cellbit into a hug that Cellbit had no time to reciprocate, and told him monday would be a better day for sure before leaving back to the lab. To Fit, he told his plan that he wanted to get the pills... And Fit didn't understand what he meant

That fucked me up btw. Fit never understood Pac wanted to give in to the treatment. Maybe it was stubborn hope and forced naivety to ignore the truth. He thought Pac wanted to steal from Forever, and the last talk the two had, Pac said once again "I'll find a cure after I get the pills, Fit", and Fit encouraged him. He said Pac could do it and then they said a brief goodbye before Fit rushed away. Pac lingered, tho, standing in place and watching Fit go. Fit didn't notice it wasn't a " see you soon", it was a "goodbye"

And to Forever? Forever tried so hard to tell Pac off. To shake his head and make him back away, but Pac had his mind set on it. Even Pac's words had a lot of truth in them. Yes, it was for the better. Yes, he wanted this. Yes, they'll take a picture of all the family together again. Pac was so tired, and he moved so slow compared to Forever's forced energy. Their goodbyes were "Favela Five until the end", Forever doesn't know Pac wrote those exact words to Cellbit, and he was the last person to see Pac before he was gone, a weak smile and a wave before following Cucurucho

He can't forget. He kept repeating it. He can't forget. He won't forget. He'll do this for his family and he needs to at least give away one of the pills to someone so they also have it in case Pac can't go through his studies. He wrote a letter to himself to remember... And he's still an optimistic when writing it, saying he'll manage to get through it, that it will all end well

He did this to take away the weight from anyone else, so no one has to hurt Forever, so no one else has to sacrifice himself, so Cellbit can find an answer and doesn't try to do it alone

Favela Five until his end

[ryuzakemo128]

Stranger Things Incorrect Quotes Part Four

Part one / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven

Dividers: Link

Masterlist

Marianna: I think I'm falling for you. Billy: Then get up.

Marianna: Wow, Billy, you want to hold my hand before marriage? How awfully lewd of you. Billy: We literally slept together yesterday. Marianna: That's NOTHING compared to the lewdness of holding hands.

Billy: Are you trying to seduce me? Marianna: Why, are you seducible?

Marianna: As top in this relationship, I think we should- Billy: I can't believe you're pulling rank on me.

Marianna: Look, last night was a mistake. Billy: A sexy mistake. Marianna: No, just a regular mistake.

Billy: When you said 'Magic in Bed', I wasn't expecting this... Marianna: *pulls out card from deck* Now, was this your card? Billy: Holy moly-

*At a speed dating event* Marianna: Oh wow, people are really shallow. Billy: Consider it a background check. For example: Do you have a death certificate? Marianna: *Checks their pulse* Sorry, not yet. Billy: Good, I'm not fucking a ghost again.

Billy: Marianna, you do remember when we agreed we were better off as friends, right? Marianna, naked in Billy's bed: No, I absolutely do not. Billy, already taking off his clothes: Fuck... Me neither.

Billy: Smart is attractive. Educate me on something I don't know! Marianna: The mouth of a jellyfish is also an anus. Billy: Stop.

Billy: I don't know how to tell you this, but... I love you. Marianna: That's great, Billy. Especially considering the fact we've been married for 6 fucking years.

Billy: Talk dirty to me, baby~ Marianna: The dishes. Billy: Wh- Marianna: They’ve been there for 4 days and it’s your turn to wash them. You still haven’t cleaned them and I have asked you to do so several times.

Marianna: You have to apologize to them Billy. Billy: Fine! But I must warn you that this might make me a better, nicer person and that is NOT the person you fell in love with!

Billy: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt. Marianna: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

Billy: Did it hurt when you fell- Marianna: From heaven? Wow, I didn’t think you were such a flirt- Billy: No, I meant when you fell down the stairs. Marianna: ... Billy: You just laid there for 15 minutes.

Marianna: Why do you think I don’t like you? I do. I would kill for you. Marianna: Ask me to kill for you. Billy: ...First of all, calm down-

Billy: Marianna likes to say ‘you can be part of the problem or part of the solution,’ but I happen to believe you can be both.

Billy: I can do anything I put my mind to. I once figured out Marianna's phone number just by choosing random numbers.

Billy: We have a problem. Marianna: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.

Billy: I like your new pants! Marianna: Thanks, they were 50% off! Billy: I’d like them better if they were 100% off. *winks* Marianna: The store can’t just give away clothes for free. Billy: Thats’s… not what I meant. Marianna: That’s a terrible way to run a business, Billy.

Billy: What are you eating? Marianna: You wouldn't like it, it's really salty. Billy: I like you, don't I?

Billy: Is this mistletoe? Marianna: Uh, no, no, that is basil. Billy: Too bad cause if it was mistletoe I was gonna kiss you. Marianna: Yeah, no, it’s still basil.

Marianna: Why can't any of you ever clean up after yourselves? Billy: I have a person who does that for me. Marianna: Yeah, ME. Billy: I'm glad you agree.

Billy: *on the phone* Hey Marianna, do you know my blood type? Marianna: Of course, it's B-. Billy: Oh, I guessed wrong. Excuse me, nurse-!

Billy: You look good in that hoodie. Marianna: You know where else I'd look good? Billy, zero hesitation: My bed. Marianna, at the same time: By you're side- wait, what?

Billy: Hi- Marianna: Leave before there's a terrible misunderstanding between my foot and your ass.

Billy: Go to sleep or you'll hate yourself in the morning! Marianna: I'll hate my self in the morning regardless.

Marianna: I feel like doing something stupid. Billy: I’m stupid, do me.

Eddie: I think we should have glow stick juice injected in our bones when we're born, so if we break our bones, we get a fun little surprise. Steve: What's the surprise? Marianna: Blood poisoning.

Eddie, in Steve’s window: I thought I’d find you here! Marianna, climbing past Eddie: WE COULD HAVE USED THE DOOR-

[boyruggeroii]

It's yearning week

[tihgnari]

ꕤ 05. nice meeting you

tw: none / wc: 1k

"ah shit," you mutter below your breath as you stand by the threshold, staring at ayaka's figure walking down the hallway. you would've barreled down after her if you weren't so hyper aware of her older brother's presence sitting cross-legged on one end of the couch, scrolling through his phone.

his indifference makes you want to crawl inside a dark hole. maybe he's heard all the hushed "don't leave me alone with him!" and "it'll be awkward!" lines you said to ayaka no matter how much you tried to keep your voice down.

well, you sure hope he didn't.

you purse your lips, trying to hype yourself up and giving yourself a mini pep talk before you gently shut his apartment door close. this'll be okay. it'll be fine. it was just one kiss. we were both drunk and he was probably too tired yesterday to even remember me, right?

as soon as you step into the living room, ayato turns his head towards you with a small smile on his face. he pockets his phone.

"i'm guessing ayaka went down for the pizza?" you nod. he hums thoughtfully. "well, you're our guest, after all. it'll be improper to make you fetch it yourself."

you settle on the other end of a couch, sitting an arm's length away from him, completely unlike last night where personal space was a concept you both didn't know–thighs touching, his hands on your jaw, your arms around his neck, and your lips–

whether or not ayato remembers, you can't say. his face is too unreadable. are all business students this way?

silence slowly engulfed you both.

what should you say? what should you talk about? the weather? now, that's too cliché. what's his major? what's his year? but ayaka told you all those things already. is it hard being the prestigious and ever powerful kamisato group's heir? ah, that's a tad too personal, isn't it?

oh. right. you can just introduce yourself!

"uhm, nice to meet you. i'm yn."

"ayato," he offered you a hand to shake, and you took it, butterflies fluttering around your stomach over how soft and big his hand was compared to yours. "uh, this may sound weird but… have we met before?"

OH, FUCK. ABORT MISSION!

"n–o?" your voice cracks. you clear your throat. "no? haha, i don't think we have?"

"oh, i'm sorry! it must still be jet lag…"

he laughs and you swear to become a good person until the day you die if it means rising to heaven because you know for sure that's the sound one hears when you enter god's promised land.

"nah, don't worry about it! i get that quite a lot. i guess that's what happens when you have a generic face haha."

ayato opens his mouth as if wanting to say something before eventually shutting it close again.

"so, yn," hot damn he sounds so perfect when saying my name. "i heard you're part of the student council, right? what's your position then?"

any position you want.

you want to scream.

"i'm, uh, their s–secretary."

"i see. ever since ayaka became president?"

"yup. so it's been… almost two years? the students seem to be fond of ayaka. she got re-elected and won as president again this year," you steal a glance, only to quickly look away when you find his eyes already on you. "i'm just lucky i got appointed."

"quite fascinating, really."

your brows unconsciously furrow. is he somehow implying that you don't deserve the position or something? its 'fascinating' that you got appointed?

as if reading your thoughts, ayato suddenly turns to you with widened eyes.

"oh, no! i'm not implying anything negative about my sister appointing you or anything. i mean it's fascinating that in other universities–like the one i previously went to for the exchange program–vote for the whole council selectively. meanwhile here, they just vote for the president and let them choose the rest of their council."

"do you want to know a secret?" you smile. "it wasn't actually always like that. i heard the deans agreed to make it this way five years ago when the pres and vp got into this huge fight. they say it was inevitable considering they hated each other and it kinda sorta maybe led to the doom of their whole council? it was crazy and…" you stop, feeling your cheeks heat up. "i'm sorry, i was rambling."

he laughs and you can't help but stare. "hey, i mean as long as you're letting me in on the gossip, right?"

ayaka finally arrives with her hands filled with two boxes of pizza, placing them down on the coffee table. as she flipped the top open ayato receives a phone call and quickly makes his way to the front door.

"yeah, okay… no, i still know where that is… i'll meet you at the entrance? alright, see you there."

only now did you notice he's dressed to go outside. with an all-black ensemble of a turtle neck paired with an unzipped fur hoodie that probably costs more than your total living expenses over the past three years of being a college student–if the subtle louis vuitton monogram all over the fabric was anything to go by.

"you're leaving?" ayaka asks before taking a bite of the pizza, looking over her shoulder.

ayato nods, eyes busy typing messages on his phone. "yeah. childe invited me to go bar hopping with him, kaeya, and itto. do you still have the keys for the lexus?"

aw, he's leaving already?

you see the incredulous look on ayaka's face before throwing the car keys over to him and ayato caught it effortlessly.

"thanks."

"why not bring that new ride instead?" she asks.

"well, i think i wanna put that new mclaren on display for a little while longer. anyway, feel free to take whatever car you want as a ride home."

ayaka rolls her eyes and you would've thought she was annoyed if it hadn't been for the amused smile on her face.

"alriiight, whatever. just be home at 12am."

"great work, sis, you're starting to sound more like mom," he grimaces, turning around to slip on his shoes by the front door.

ayato stops halfway, as if he had forgotten something, before turning around, eyes meeting yours and for some reason, you can't avert it.

maybe it had been a trick of the light but he looked pleased to finally catch and hold your gaze.

"it was nice meeting you, yn."

LOWKEY » previous : masterlist : next

a kamisato ayato social media au

summary — it was only recently you found out kamisato ayaka was, in fact, not an only child after all! seeing ayato for the first time gave you the severest case of the butterflies but according to ayaka, he’s off limits, especially to you as her most treasured friend. well, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt, right?

notes — here's a picture of ayato's jacket btw

🏷 i. @rinrinchin @nejibot @mich-cola @viiolettee @katsumikumo @kaz3yo @starryeyedkoko @xingqiusliegee @cherri-bomb-ash @et3rn4lp4rad15e @boxdisappeared @lovelyycherries @ferumie @m1kotsu @love6cks @yukanazz @luvvmeilin @blackberri-jelli @moonlightbqe @kazooms @tricethecharm @lynnforever @kaedear @xiaoisahawtie @crowbird @apotatouwu @xinii @euryrue​ @aequha​ @nuttytani @plinkuro @choco-rei @aixaingela @milesluvrrad @windasteriaa @cherrytomato2 @zannivrs @k4miyato @eishtar @wccycc @ceylestia @sweet-almonds @ayatobro @animewolflover278 @queenaveryrules @veyu002 @ittakestw0totango @ventis-dandelion @ventis-dandelion @adeptusx @x-xxiaos

[justalost4girl]

" If anything can go wrong, it will."

Good night!! (Here it's still night :p )

A few weeks ago I said I would do a oneshot Lorraine Broughton x F! Reader, but it got too big so I decided to follow the initial idea and turn it into a mini series. I have two chapters written and I'm going to post them here and in Ao3, I think there will be 3 or 4 chapters in total, but I'm not sure yet.

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!!

warnings: mention of violence, R cursing, forgery of documents (?)

Words: 4573

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1989

Berlin, East Side

You feel in your bones, when you wake up, the consequences of last night and think that the famous Murphy's Law decided to test you. On this side of the wall few things go right, but having an order in your head two days after joining STASI's wanted list proves that nothing is so bad it can't get any worse. Courtesy of a dumb customer who messed with the wrong people and thought revealing where you find your customers would be enough information to escape death. The Local Gang (or Angels, as they call themselves) loves to eliminate competition from the market.

Now he's dead and you have to deal with the STASI AND the Local Gang (you refuse to call them Angels).

The local fucking gang that sent a team of idiots to break into your favorite bar and made you run out the back door before meeting a customer who was going to pay well. The local fucking gang who must be pissed that you shot the six dumbest members you've ever had to face in your life. No really fatal shots, but of course that won't matter as they do business with the KGB.

Sometimes you want to ignore the rules you've made for yourself, especially "never kill someone unless it's in defense of yourself or someone you love", but you think killing six agents who don't have the ability to set up an ambush of success would be a great waste of bullets. Now you know you're going to have to leave town soon and you have no idea how to break the news to your brother/partner, how do you honorably abandon a war before it's over?

Damn Murphy's Law

You know you need to sort this out, but you refuse to stay in bed crying over what's already written and decide to leave the wonderful Egyptian linen sheets you got from your favorite client last month to face the world and it's impossible to face the world without a good amount of coffee. After a quick shower with a cup of Blue Mountain in hand, your newest addiction, you sit in a robe in a nice armchair, look out the window at dying Berlin and thank heaven for the comfortable life you've earned by working with one of the greatest smugglers on this side of the wall, perhaps from all over Germany. Some desperate customers offer you valuable items from them in exchange for passports and unlike your idiot “brother”, you don't have a rule about only receiving cash. Almost everything here comes from gifts, from the sofa, pictures, bags, clothes and even some books on your shelf. You don't even remember buying that cup, or the coffee set, for gods' sake.

If he saw you now he'd complain about being soft with customers and say something about how items aren't a bargaining chip in the real world, you'd get into a tiresome discussion about enjoying the finer things in life and how bills don't compare in the importance of yours. silver chain with moon pendant that was once an amulet for more than three generations for a French family.

At the end of the day, Merkel has a large information network and an office that takes up half the block, where she keeps as much money as she has secrets, and you have a house decorated by other people where each object symbolizes someone you've helped.

Four walls don't make a house

The thought takes away some of the almost peace you feel and you decide to finish your coffee before it gets cold.

After a quick glance at the calendar you remember about the march that will take place in Alexanderplatz square and decide to go scream for Germany one last time, hopefully you'll be able to hide long enough to see the fall of the damn wall that divides this country. It's not your country, not really, you don't even like to remember how you got here, but the experiences you gained wouldn't be exchanged for anything, not even for an original Van Gogh. Also, Merkel asked you to go and bring a black umbrella, the reason was not explained and you didn't feel like asking, sometimes you think Gordon Merkel is not his name, but how to judge the man who is your only family in this end of the world? You smile when you remember that he shouldn't have an umbrella with a story as cool as his and decide to piss him off for it.

Your phone rings, and you notice you've lost track of time. Merkel was helping a blonde woman named L, he didn't give you more details other than a few stories about how she was a perfect and dangerous assassin that you should keep your distance, as few people know how to deal with her. You thought he overreacted, but you had to take over some business from him while she was in town. She seemed important considering the way he told you about her and you knew better than to deny help to the person who always supported you and declared himself a brother, you trusted him because not even the best agent in the world could fake so much sincerity and affection in claiming this title for himself.

You reach out, pick up the phone, and decide to answer it. “Hey little sister, how are you out there? I called to say that everything is fine for dinner today, but there was a mishap and the wine ran out, bring the best Bordeaux you have, I'll return the courtesy as soon as possible." A code, of course.

He needs your services ASAP. Wine is a passport, Bordeaux means two elements, courtesy involves a child.

You can combine business with pleasure "Hi brother. I'm looking forward to today, I'll take the best wine I have, don't worry. I already know how you can thank me. I need to clean the house and go to the office first, but I'll be there on time. wait for me." you say in a voice that oozes normalcy, you never know when someone's listening on the phone especially now that you're a fugitive, disgraced customer. Your body sinks into the armchair noticing the oncoming cloud of worry

Merkel now knows you need his help, as cleaning the house means getting away and going to the office shows you're in a hurry.

"Alright, do you want me to send the driver?" He asks like he's not freaking out and offering the bloody job of one of his mercenaries

“No, bro, thanks, I know the way.” You say as if you really have an escape plan besides getting a fake passport, emergency backpack and all the money you can find.

“See you later, don't forget the wine. Are you sure you don't want the driver?" You wonder if he has forgotten that knowing the way literally means everything is fine

“Relax, see you later” It takes a few seconds for him to hang up and you can hear his sigh.

He will be SO pissed.

You put the phone down as you get up to gather the passport forgery materials and put them in a briefcase. Your cookbook is already there along with some banknotes from different countries. As you pick up the black backpack of standard clothes and accessories that always waited for you in the corner of the door, you decide to wear the first jacket you bought, the dark blue jeans, the combat boots you got from a skinhead, the wristwatch you bought. you got for your brother's birthday, thick leather gloves and a thin white shirt that matches the rest of your outfit. After all, if you can die when you open the door, then die well dressed. Be sure to keep the Colt 1911 around your waist and the Russian dagger around your ankle, after yesterday you never know, Your pocket watch with the coat of arms of the Brazilian imperial family indicates that 15 minutes have passed since Merkel's phone call

You take one last look at the house you've been so proud of in recent years, snap a photo with the Polaroid you've won, and, with a bittersweet smile, close the door. One day when the wall comes down, the government changes and your face is forgotten, you can come back here, until then you will have to make do with the photo album you keep in your backpack and this photo.

Putting on your sunglasses, you arrive on the street and decide to take a taxi on the other corner, make sure you look around before leaving your home, no one knows your address, but you can't be sure the local gang is so stupid to the point of not following you after last night.

Getting a taxi was relatively easy. Neil, the driver, thanks to the boots, mistook you for a revolutionary and talked for 10 minutes about how he hoped he could take down the wall with his bare hands, you thought it was cool, but as you passed the big river that was just a few blocks away from the your brother's office, you couldn't hear a word from him.

A sign signaling that the river was closed to visitors made your eyes fill with tears. You used to go there when the day was bad, spread a blanket in a corner and watch the stars, or just laugh at the distinct reflection the water made of the moon and stars. Merkel accompanied you on anniversaries, justifying them as bonding experiences. After some freaks started swimming in the river and executions increased, STASI took over and you replaced the dark water for the restaurant's bright lights. But seeing it tightly closed gave him a feeling of anguish and rancor. You would silently curse the wall builders for the rest of the trip.

Neil seemed to notice but didn't comment on it, you thanked him, wiped your tears and left a good tip as you descended a block away from your final destination. This time you didn't need to look around because even though Merkel was super busy, he made sure to leave some security close to where your landing place was.

A tall man dressed in a red T-shirt approached you and hugged you as if he hadn't seen you in a long time. You've known him since the beginning of last year, when he arrived at Merkel's office begging for a job, and from the first moment the way he turned grief over his brother's death into a thirst for revolution made you admire the young man. The two of you walked through the great gate hand in hand as you asked about his life with genuine interest, and Klaus increasingly believed in Merkel's theory about you having such a pure heart that you didn't care about motivation or the number of lives they took, your explanation of the judgment not being your responsibility, crossed the man's head before he escorted you to the main office.

You thanked him with a smile, opened the door and stood in front of the table in the windowless room, where your brother was already waiting for you.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? I was about to send J to get you, please tell me what happened"—he said hurriedly as he got up and pointed at the couch for you to sit on. J was one of the most dangerous women in the building and you were grateful for not wasting her time.

Putting your backpack and umbrella aside, you answered:

"I'll explain later, little brother, now let me help you. You need passports urgently, don't you?" Yes, you were stalling and postponing the conversation. He'd call you an idiot for going out on the street right after you got on the wanted list, and he'd feel guilty when he found out why you didn't tell him. Merkel wasn't going to understand that her fear of failing him was no one's fault but yourself.

Your sentence seemed to give him some responsibility back, but still, as he held out a glass of water for you, his eyes met yours with a glint that warned that this conversation was far from over.

"Yeah, I really do, but don't think I'm going to forget about it. Let's talk when this is all over. Even if it's the last thing I do today."

You accepted the glass with a bit of trepidation and stood up towards the large center table while opening the briefcase with the supplies you were going to need, if Merkel noticed the bills he didn't say anything. Once at the table, you made two passports for mother and daughter in record time. According to the clock, 10 minutes passed, faster than a car, this deserves a celebration. It would have been six if Merkel hadn't been so curious to make you waste time pulling your watch out of your pocket just for him to analyze.

Everything was going well and there was only one last detail for mother and daughter to be taken by one Percival to the other side of the wall. Percival, according to Merkel, was strange and fickle. Unreliable and extremely dangerous, you should also keep your distance from him, as this man had crucial contacts on both sides of the wall.

"He must have fewer contacts than you", you would answer

If a loud noise didn't break the silence

The annoying noise of the door creaking made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you almost missed the last signature, it made your body vibrate with irritation and your eyes follow to the offensive source of the sound. A tall man with short hair and blue eyes was holding the doorknob with a military posture and before you could release your anger and explain something about how people shouldn't be violent inside Merkel's office you noticed he was accompanied by a woman.

AND WHAT A WOMAN!

Your eyes connected to a pair of fierce, intent green eyes, surrounded by a pale skin tone and hair so blond it looked like snow. The barely perceptible frown showed she was surprised to find someone other than Merkel there, yet she looked ready for a battle. You looked into her eyes again and nodded in acknowledgment, this must be L, the woman he was talking about.

She looked at you suspiciously, but also as if she could see into your soul, and what must have been frightening, you found endearing. A few stories of murders orchestrated by her crossed your mind, but all you could imagine is how beautiful she must be when she's mad.

They say green eyes darken when we're high on adrenaline, does that happen to her?

Her analysis of the intriguing blonde ends when she notices that the man accompanying her has raised his voice and from his furious expression, it's not the first time he's repeated the question. You interrupt him before you hear him and make sure to direct the ghost of anger before him:

"Have you lost your mind? Who walks into the office without knocking? Surely you should be here asking about passports, but if it weren't for my experience and steady hands, they would be in the trash by now. Learn to be civilized. You're under two paws not four, so act human and not animal" you say in an explosive but articulate tone to make sure he understands what you say. Sometimes when you speak fast, you are betrayed by faulty diction. Not today. Today you want this man to feel every fiber of irritation that went through his body.

Hearing Merkel holding a nervous laugh, you try to relax, but judging by the cold, almost murderous look of the man in the doorway, you've definitely gotten yourself in trouble. Looking at the organized clothes, you notice it's an old police uniform, probably taken by your brother, and unless Merkel has hired new employees, you've never seen it around here. His eyes snap back to his and something inside you warns that this must be Percival. He probably wants to kill you.

Damn Murphy's Law

A brief silence settles in the room and you shake off the fear and turn away, refusing to play the glaring game with a man who almost spoils your art. On other days you might look at him at a party, but today you want to make him swallow the ink on the stamp in his hands and invite the blonde to dinner

And it's her voice that breaks the silence.

You're flipping through the two passports for failures when she says

"Sorry, miss. My friend is an unprecedented idiot. Shall I close the door and knock again? Perhaps your highness too--"

You turn her body towards her when you hear the slightest hint of irony in her tone and interrupt her with a fake smile as you look into her eyes.

"It's not necessary, I accept your apology, Miss. I always said that Merkel should have someone armed at the door to remind everyone of the need to knock on the door. Anyone who didn't knock would lose his mind as the law of my reign says. Perhaps I should start. for him, since the top head is the last thing he wears lately" you joke look at Merkel who doesn't seem offended by the statement, shrugging you look at those blue eyes again and say "the passports are ready. Let's get out of here."

You close the passports, reach for your backpack and umbrella and start moving towards the door, both agents let you lead the way and judging by the blonde's expression, she's not used to being interrupted, nor is she used to seeing someone talking like that with Merkel, but today it was acceptable. You really think she's adorable, but you know better than to let someone make fun of you, especially in front of your brother who wouldn't let you forget about it. Either she doesn't care, or she's a great actress. Anyway, that idiot is still by her side and you refuse to be the reason for his possible laugh.

Her friend probably didn't have the same acting classes and his resemblance to the local gang members, like he's going to kill you in the blink of an eye in a cowardly way, is almost frightening. If Merkel hadn't said L is a woman, you'd be scared. It makes you shiver a little and look for Merkel, but he's not following you. Looking over his shoulder you see him putting a few more piles of dollars and euros into your briefcase. With a snap of your fingers you get his attention and before you walk out the door, you hear the briefcase click closing.

Once out of the room, you look around and realize that nothing has really changed, all faces are familiar, except for three people: a couple talking to a child. After a brief analysis you find yourself facing the passport clients, mother and daughter. The man doesn't look older than 60 and has kind eyes, almost as if he doesn't live on this side of the wall.

They don't seem to notice you

Your observation is interrupted by Merkel's loud, proud voice, right behind you. Here it comes

"This is Elizabeth Loyd and Percival, two trusted clients. Elizabeth and Percival, this is my little sister, she will be on the march today, if you need anything in the future you can talk to her."

Hearing her name, you notice that Merkel really wasn't creative at all. Who would use the initial letter of a surname as a symbol? Anyone who heard the stories about L and met a loyde who knows a Merkel would make the connection. As you turn around, you swallow your nervousness and try to put on your best smile as you say your name to them. The blonde woman who finally has a name, Elizabeth, leans closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you wonder if she can feel the jumble of emotions that is unraveling inside you.

She smiles a smile that makes you sure she does and reaches out and greets you with a firm grip, if she noticed the sweat on your hands, she didn't let on. She also looks a little more comfortable.

Maybe because she noticed you said her real name, idiot.

You hate yourself for one second and the next you want to be without gloves because it feels soft and warm.

The man, Percival, comes next and looks at you suspiciously and the smile fades from your face, you wonder if no one else can smell the strong smell he gives off, a smell of cheap whiskey and arrogance. Still, he holds out his hand and this time you thank the gods for the gloves. Make sure you don't bow your head or fail in your posture. He still looks at you like you killed his son. Useless even to pretend, for God's sake.

Merkel watches the exchange from afar and nods to Elizabeth, she responds and Percival walks away looking uneasy. You look around uncomprehendingly, feel a little left out, and wonder which computer must have Tetris installed.

You would kill for a distraction right now.

Going out on the street in a crowded march while being chased by two groups still makes you sick.

Your brother approaches and extends his hands around you. You've missed him for the past few weeks. He still wears the perfume you gave him for his birthday and it makes you sink deeper into the hug. You know he's going to be mad when he finds out what happened so you enjoy as much affection as you can

"Little sister, in addition to our conversation I need to tell you something" his voice is low in tone and you doubt you would understand the words if you weren't so close to him "but I can't do that until the march is over. Meet me at usual table at the restaurant where we celebrate our achievements, It's very important"

His even low voice is charged with strong emotion and you are genuinely worried, Merkel has never been like this before.

"I'll do it, brother, I promise. Whatever it is, we can work it out together" you say with all the certainty you can muster in your voice, because you need him to understand that this is true.

You feel eyes on you and as you look up you notice that Elizabeth keeps an eye on your exchange with Merkel while talking to the little girl's father, from the distance she probably can't understand anything and you don't know if she celebrates or cares with so much attention received. A little further away is a Percival who pretends to be busy with the coat he's wearing. He also pays attention to your exchange, but his talent for discretion is as effective as his ability to open doors.

Your eyes return to the concentrated blue eyes that are in front of you and Merkel speaks in an almost inaudible way:

"When I whistle, I need you to raise your open umbrella and stay alert. The three people we're going to cross are very important, nothing can go wrong. But if it does, I'll be at the restaurant, whatever happens find me there."

Noticing the proximity of Percival and Elizabeth, you place your hand on your brother's shoulder and smile as you speak a little louder:

"Don't worry man, it's always a pleasure to help you. I'll leave my briefcase here, then meet you to get it. Good march."

Merkel shows that she understands his strange move and smiles, you greet some friends of his that you haven't seen in a while and as you head towards the exit, you meet a pair of deep green eyes. Elizabeth is gleaming in the cold lights that are refracted by the mosaic of the gate, she looks into your eyes, ever alert, looks at the object in your hands and nods her head with a half smile, do you think the guard's idea black rain was hers.

As you wave back, you can feel that a pair of eyes haven't left your back since the moment of your brother's embrace, as the old man is saying goodbye to the family, you know who they belong to and decide not to look for them. If the STASI, KGB or local gang find you, he doesn't own the pair of eyes you want to remember before you die.

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the gate and blend into the crowd.

..........................................................................................................................

After leaving Merkel's office block, you take a hat out of your backpack and wear your sunglasses as you look around, not that a local gang member is here but because if he sees you in disguise he will ask a series of questions and he has enough problems already, plus STASI must be monitoring this area and the last thing you want is to be arrested. You decide to tuck your coat into your backpack to change your look, and while internally debating your ability to ignore the cold, your eyes catch the almost snowy blond hair in the crowd.

This signals that they are already on the march and you decide to get a little closer to them, but make sure you do this without drawing attention to yourself since the nasty man is still there. Elizabeth is on your diagonal absorbing all the extraneous details that might be a possible threat, she seems so focused on the job of passing the owner's gentle eyes in a safe way that it makes you wonder how important he is and if she's noticed you.

A few meters later a familiar noise floats through the march and you open the umbrella almost instantly, as do other protesters.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Percival taking the man's family across and sometime later Elizabeth does the same. You notice that her posture has changed and when she decides to stop for a better look, the crowd drags her and you can no longer locate her.

Her feet continue forward and as some signs are raised by the protesters, you try to find your brother. Unsuccessfully. You decide to trust their ability and hope that you can meet him again at the restaurant.

You also want Elizabeth to be okay.

Continuing on the march, after two or three long blocks you notice the familiar silhouette of one of the STASI bosses, he is watching the crowd as if looking for someone, but he doesn't seem to notice you. You notice observers on top of buildings and decide to leave the streets. Whether it's the Local Gang, KGB or STASI itself you don't know and decide you don't want to know.

Your brain tries to design routes to escape and your body mimics the movements of the closest protesters so as not to draw attention to you, but when some agents in black point in your direction and make space in the crowd, you run between people to seek shelter in somewhere you know and at every step you are sure that the day will be worse than you thought.

Damn Murphy's Law

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Hey again! (last time i think this is really risky lol)

Thank you for the links to the book! I can’t sign up for the newsletter so the alternate links are appreciated.

The reason I never consider the philosophical implications of narak being unable to exist are that Hindus never burn in hell for eternity (unlike Xian and Muslim hells). The worst Hindus usually burn in Hell for a long time before being reborn with bad karma. Since no sinner burns in hell forever and a person with good deeds can go to heaven after they have finished burning (Mahabharat ; Mahaprastanika Parva), Hinduism is supposed to be a very great religion which gives justice to all. Fortunately, it’s actually really stupid.

I am pretty sure I am going to have kids one day so thank fuck I am ending all the generational trauma that’s been passed down cause there’s a LOT.

Everything you said about the worship being a performance, I’ve thought about it a lot. It actually helped. From now on whenever I’m home alone, I’m not going to actually do it. I’ll just light the lamp and wave some incense around and that’s it. And for when everyone’s home, I’ll just wave it around the god's pictures without chanting bullshit sanskrit mantras I can’t understand. After I ‘prayed’ last evening, I went to my room and wrote a bit of a story and scrolled through quite a few atheist blogs (including yours) to calm down cause shit it feels so weird.

Another hard thing to stop doing is praying before I eat. I pray before my main meals and I started praying again yesterday before eating before I caught myself.

Thank you for your help. Have a great day/night ahead. I hope you get everything you’ve been working for.

Bye!

<3

Thanks for the info about Hindu hell. That's interesting and I plan to do some follow up reading. It is still messed up though - consider the "best" person who went to Narak, compared to the "worst" person who went straight to heaven, and what the difference between them is.

One thing you might consider doing is creating a secular version of some of your religious rituals, particularly for when you're in a position where you're forced to do them.

I'm not 100% on how Hindu prayer works exactly, but what I mean is that if you have to lead it out loud, for others, you go into your actor/performance mode. You're playing the part of someone who believes. You're Dame Judy Dench or whoever. You understand this character, but you're not this character.

But if everyone prays or recites to themselves privately, then do something else instead of the traditional prayers, since they kind of mess with your head. Perhaps some kind of personal reflection.

e.g. "I am fortunate because I found my way out of religion; I need no gods in order to be a good person. I am grateful to the farmers who worked to provide our food. Things are not perfect, but this is only temporary; I have a plan to make them better."

That was me just throwing shit out there. If you're going to do it, make it helpful to you. You have an inner world that others can't see or control. Healthy personal affirmations can be helpful.

If you can get out of the habit of it when you're alone, that's probably the most healthy thing, to make not praying your new default. But again if you find yourself doing it, don't beat yourself up about it. Notice it, have a little laugh - e.g. "who am I talking to; it's like beaming a wishlist to Santa by telepathy!" - remind yourself these are old habits you're getting rid of, and then move on. It takes practice to unlearn old habits and reflexes.

Some days you're going to be tired or distracted and just on auto-pilot. Some days you won't be. That's okay. Remember that in science, there's no such thing as a failure, just more data you can learn from. It'll help you figure out what works for you and what doesn't, so you can do more of the former and less of the latter.

If you're feeling this is getting risky, better not to push your luck. But once you're in a better position - and you will be - I'd like to hear how you've gone.

Look after yourself.

[shinobi-illuminator]

The hour grew late as a record breaking storm hit the towering city of Piltover.

Rain pounded at the stained glass windows of the academy like a widow's tears. The roaring winds groaned and thrashed against the tall structures in an icy rage. Anyone caught outside could easily be swept off the streets.

But deep in laboratory was none other than Viktor. The storm outside didn't seem to bother him while he kept working. He liked it when it rained, it gave much needed white noise in the background to keep him focused on his welding.

By now most of the night staff had left by now, but Viktor was more than used to pulling all-nighters in the lab.

Blue sparks were a major light source in the dimly lit room. The office itself was cold from the dampness outside. But Viktor was used to unsavory conditions, a little cold meant nothing to him compared to the polluted atmosphere of the Undercity. Even now his golden eyes glinted in the light behind his goggles. Every now and then he'd pause to study the runes he had lifted from his research. Progress day was just around the bend now, yet it seemed like only yesterday when he and Jayce first invented Hextech. Nowadays he seemed to see Jayce less and less. It worried him but brushed it off figuring funding and publicity would only forward their work. Though it frustrated him knowing he was becoming more of a glorified secretary than an actual partner.

“Ugh! Stupid child. Who brings their kids here this late?"

Viktor paused when he realized how illogical that sounded. He took off his goggles and turned off his welding gear to peer down at his pocket watch.

The clock pointed to 3:13 A.M.

"That... can't be."

No one should have been here but him this late-- and certainly not a crying child.

The scientist grabbed his crutch and shuffled his way to the sliding door. He could hear the sound clear as crystal, but there was no one outside his chamber door.

"Is someone there?" He called.

The crying seemed to get ever so louder. As the pitch increased there was a sudden crash of thunder that seemed to shake the foundations of the academy.

"WOAH!"

It was so loud Viktor flinched, he could feel the floor rumble under his feet.

The lights surged before plunging the rooms and hallways into total darkness. The only minor light source was now came from the blue runes on the core he was working on. Viktor retreated inside, not even the sliding doors wanted to close now.

"Oh for heaven's sake!"

Viktor hated blackouts, that was the one thing that seemed to truly disrupt his work. Luckily he remembered where Jayce kept the flashlights. He carefully limped his way to the drawers blindly, bumping his bad hip on his stool in the process.

"GAH- Shit!"

Sure, he could technically take this as a sign to simply turn in and go home. Let some poor janitor fool around with the back up generators and be done with it till morning.

But Viktor found his light and shined his light on his work. The core he was crafting seemed to pulse like a heart in it's soft glow. It just needed a few more runes to complete it.

"I can do it myself."

He was a smart lad, how hard could it be?

He strolled back to the door and began making the long haul to the basement level. His pace slowed down when he heard the crying get slightly louder now. It was low key beginning to creep him out.

Viktor shook himself to his senses, "Oh come now, Viktor! You're a man of science and magic. You are NOT scared of ghosts!" he hyped himself up and carried on down the dark winding staircase.

Besides, if it really was a child he was probably the only one who could help right now.

As he descended further and further down it somehow seemed to get darker, even with his flashlight. Worst yet the cries seemed to distort against the metallic pipes almost like a warped voice recording. Even now the storm kept howling outside. Viktor came to a stop at the bottom of the staircase and caught his breath. His bad leg was killing him at the strain.

He shined his light and found the breaker holding the backup switch. But still no missing child as far as he could see despite the endless wailing.

He pulled it, but nothing happened.

The young scientist then pried open the hardware door only to be greeted by a cloud of smoke and electrical charge that covered the tangled wires.

"GAh-- fucking hell!" Viktor slammed it shut before he could get spat upon and broke into a small coughing fit. "Okay... -cough- Bad idea. The damn system is fried to a crisp." He frowned.

So much for being useful, this was beyond his skill set. He'd have to find someone to take over tomorrow. He turned around with a heavy sigh and pointed the light back up the winding stairwell. His leg seemed to be nagging at him at the thought of making the exhausting journey back up.

But the continuous crying was still present. Viktor slowly pointed his light until he found a tucked away room behind some old pipping.

He didn't remember there being a door there before, especially not one in made with this kind of old metal.

Viktor dared to take a step forward only to step back. Something just didn't feel right. What kind of kid would want to go inside that room? He knew damn well what he told himself earlier, but Viktor couldn't help but feel a freezing chill go up his rigged spine. His brain was screaming at him now to turn back. Maybe get Jayce while he was at it?

He bit his lip in thought. Viktor had come this far and certainly couldn't go back empty handed now. Curiosity seemed to egg him on like a childish dare. He had to at least take one look inside this mystery room and see who was making this noise.

The young scientist swallowed his fear that kept gnawing at the back of his throat and approached the door.

However when he peered inside with his light there was nothing but rusty and outdated tubes and furnaces that made up an old boiler room. It seemed to not have been touched in fifty or perhaps even a hundred years upon glancing at the old cobwebs and layers of dust on the old rigs. But still no child could be found, yet the sound seemed to be coming out of thin air and was nearly deafening.

Were they hiding??

Viktor gulped and stepped inside, straining his eyes in the pitch blackness to gauge where they were. He even covered one of his ears with his free hand to blot out some of the sound. Viktor was breaking into a cold sweat and was having a difficult time keeping his flashlight still.

His mouth became dry as his words became tangled in his throat in an attempt to sound brave or remotely intimidating.

But all he could muster was a pathetic, chocked out

"...H-hello?”

Suddenly the scream was raw and ragged. Still child-like but full of malice as it seemed to charge right through him. The light he was holding in his shaking hand flared bright before exploding.

"GAHHHHHH!!!!!"

Viktor screamed in agony and clutched his now mangled hand. He couldn't see the damage in the darkness, but boy could he feel it. The battery had somehow ruptured and gave his hand chemical burns from the acid. Bits of glass and metal stabbed his hand with a large piece embedded all the way through his palm. The searing pain made Viktor stumble.

His eyes went wide in horror as he heard the heavy door slam behind him and lock him inside. The same voice trapped with him didn't stop as it bounced off the walls in a hellish echo.

Viktor desperately threw himself at the door. But it didn't budge.

"Oh God--- OH GOD!!! GAHHHHH!! LET ME OUT!! PLEASE!!! LET ME OUT!!!!!!" He screamed from the top of his lungs.

He pounded and slammed at the ancient door. Even striking it with his cane a few times until it too slipped from his hands and became swallowed in the blinding darkness. The embedded glass and shrapnel in his left hand wasn't doing him any favors and only seemed to smear and spatter his blood on the door, the walls, and on himself. The pain in his hand became too much and he crumpled down into a ball. His hand felt like it was on fire and this THING he was trapped inside with kept screaming at him. He clasped his ears shut as best as he could and broke down sobbing.

This was all his fault, he thought. If he hadn't been so foolish to come down here alone maybe he wouldn't be here. Now he was hurt, scared, alone, and trapped in a place no one knew where to find him.

He was going to die here.

"G-GAHHHHH!!! JAYCE!!! J-JAYCE!!!!!!!!!!!" He screamed.

---

Jayce sat up in bed, his window had been blown open from the storm inside and was getting his room all wet. He fumbled for the light only to find it dead.

"God damn it..."

Giving a frustrated groan he shoved himself from his bed and struggled to push his window closed. He loved rain as much as the next guy, but storms like this set him on edge.

He threw on his robe and went about collecting the discarded pages on the floor and put them back on his desk.

He fished out his flashlight and looked at his watch and the time struck 4:49 A.M.

Too early to get up but too late to go back to bed he thought. He wondered if Viktor was okay, he mentioned he was working on something big at the lab. Hopefully he brought his light too. Still a part of him wondered if his partner was caught up in the blackout like him. He figured it couldn't hurt to check up on him, maybe then the poor man would get some sleep. Jayce tried to insist at times, but there seemed to be no stopping Viktor when he was 'in the zone'. He got dressed and made the quick run to the Academy. He was soaking wet and carried on up to the lab only to find the sliding doors open. Jayce at least felt a little assured his partner wasn't trapped in here, but that thought went out the window when he shined his light about to find Viktor missing.

"Vik?"

He glanced at the glimmering cube on his work desk but didn't look any further.

"Hmm... Now if I were Viktor where would I be?" Jayce thought out loud to himself.

It didn't take long for him to guess his partner went down to check the backup generator.

"Not even a storm seems to stop you, aye Vik?" He sighed and made his way down the staircase.

----

Viktor was curled up on the ground exhausted in a sobbing mess on the floor. He had been trapped inside the boiler room for what seemed like hours. Everything seemed to hurt and he couldn't see anything. There wasn't even a doorknob inside to try and pick the lock with--- not like there was anything to try and pick the lock with.

He dreaded to think all his hard work was going to end via misadventure. He tried to fall asleep a few times but the voice in the room kept him awake. It seemed to enjoy driving him crazy.

But then he sensed something coming down the stairs. He feared it was his rattled brain playing sick tricks with him but he pressed his ear to the door and tried to listen closely. His suspicions were confirmed, someone was down here.

Viktor's voice was damn near lost from hours of screaming for help. He didn't know how much he had left in him, he felt so weak. But he had to try or he was never going to be found alive.

"H-hEY!-- HEY HELP ME!!! PLEASE I'M TRAPPED INSIDE!!!!" He screeched, pounding at the now scratched and blooded door.

The inhuman drone like scream never seemed to abate. It only drilled further into his mind to try and drown him out.

Jayce had been wandering in darkness himself looking high and low for his missing friend when he suddenly heard banging.

"Vik?" He broke into a sprint.

Jayce followed the bangs till he heard muffled screams coming from behind a massive iron door.

"Viktor!? Oh my god! Viktor, hold on! Let me get you out, buddy!" He tried the handle, but even he had a hard time getting the rusty thing to let go.

Viktor felt his heart skip a beat.

"Jayce!? Is it really you?" He cried, pawing at the door.

His voice sounded so shot Jayce didn't even recognize it at first.

"Yeah, I'm here, Bud! GAHHH-- What the hell is that with you?" He grunted, trying to pull the rusted lock back. "God! I don't know how you got in here Viktor, but this lock hasn't touched in ages!" He strained.

Viktor finally found his cane in the dark and tried to help push from his side.

"GGAHHHH! I said move!" Jayce growled.

Out of frustration he stomped at the lock and a huge chunk of corroded grime broke in half and the door came flying open with a gust of wind carrying the scream.

Jayce let out a gasp and was flung back, he held his ears tight from the deafening buzz in his head.

"Gah-- What the fuck was that!?"

Whatever it was seemed to be gone and all was finally quiet save for the sound of the rain outside.

Jayce pointed his flash light at his friend who stood battered, bruised, and bloodied. His hand was mangled with grass and acid and his ears seemed to trickle blood.

"I... I knew you'd find me..." Viktor smiled through his shot voice.

His eyes rolled back as he fell into Jayce's arms. His cane fell with a dull clang close by.

"Viktor-- VIKTOR!!? Wake up! Oh god! What happened to you!?" Jayce cried out, hugging his fallen friend close.

He quaked upon seeing the bloody spatters and scratch marks Viktor left on the other side of the door. Jayce teared up and held Viktor close. He pulled him onto his back and grabbed his fallen cane, he needed to get him to the infirmary.

"Don't worry, Vik. I've got you... And I'm not going anywhere until you're better." Jayce spoke, brushing his tears from his eyes.

As he made the tedious journey back up the winding staircase he swore he could fell Viktor hug him back tighter than he had ever felt him do.

[mother-snake]

Me: *looks at completed homework* *looks at Jessie* *looks at homework* Now that I have my freedom your heart is in danger once again. Be warned brave friend.

Also me: JANUS!! GET YOUR BLOND HEAD OUT HERE!!! I NEED YOU AGAIN!

faintly in the distance: noooooooo

~~~~~~~~

All the sides were wearing black.

They just got home from a very sad event that day, no one wanted to say the title out loud because they couldn't accept that he was gone. Rain hit the mindscape windows, similarly, tears were streaming down all of their faces.

After the event, all the sides went to their rooms. All except a certain dark blue side.

Logan was on the couch. Black suit being crumpled by the lax sitting position. In his shaking hands was held a letter. Everyone had at least one letter. Logan had the most with five letters. Each one had a number.

Logan grabbed the letter labeled #1

It was of medium size. White envelope contrasting with the red wax used to seal it. The only thing that marked that it was for him was the blue ink used to mark his name.

Trying not to tear the paper. Logan opened the letter and started to read.

Dear Logan,

I guess if you're reading this I'm gone. To that fact, I'm truly sorry. I wish I could be there. But this is for the best.

I suppose you know what happened to the dark side by now. If you don't well.... Its gone. Wrath, Apathy and Depression were just getting too powerful, it didn't matter how much I hid them away they still got to Thomas... and I can't have them destroying Thomas's life. I need to do my job, even if it kills me. I really did enjoy your company! I hope you know that.

Often times the only thing that could get me out of the bed in the morning was being able to see your face. Or being able to debate with you. Or seeing you talk about space for hours! God Logan, I could go on for hours about how you made my horrid life better. You were my best friend.

These letters are going to be written over a period of time. I don't think I have it in me to say goodbye to the 5 people who made my life tolerable all at once. I'm going to be writing one letter a day. Till tomorrow Logan?

~Deceit Sanders

Logan let out a steady breath. He refused to cry over the first letter. He debated over reading all of the letters at once but.... Janus said tomorrow... He'll read letter #2 the following day.

The next morning was just as somber. Logan sat on his bed and gripped the second letter.

This one was the same size, but the envelope was a light baby blue. The seal black. Logan opened it with just as much care as before.

Hello Logan

Another day, another migraine? I get it... Not the time for jokes. I just finished writing Roman's second letter. I always felt so bad for everything involving Roman.

I manipulated him, I told him lies, I compared him to his brother. Kinda makes me deserve this I have a feeling he might try something. Snake instincts. Watch him for me, please? You five need to be a family, I've witnessed what happens to sides to end up hating eachother. Its not pretty. You don't want that Logan.

I guess that is what makes me have to do this. If we only acted like a family I wouldn't have to do this. I wouldn't have to do a lot of things if the darks weren't pricks.

The stupid thing is that I know you would try to talk me out of this plan. And you're right. God you're always right. Why do you have to be right all the time? I wish I was right all the time. But its ok. I'll be the side who hides the truth.

Blessings and a curses, right?

I'll write to you again tomorrow Logan

~ Janus Deceit Sanders

Logan gulped in another breath. He could read that crossed out section... Janus was right. They have to be there for eachother.

Why don't they go watch Janus' favourite movies? That sounds like a fun way to remember someone. Logan got the others.

-time skip-

It was just passed midnight. Everyone else was asleep on the couch as Coraline played on the TV. Logan stared at the third letter. It was technically the next day.... Logan grabbed the letter.

This letters envelope was a burnt tan colour. Yellow wax acted as the seal.

My dear, Logan

I never wanted to be hugged so much then I do right now. I have to barricade my door to prevent Wrath from getting inside, he's always been a loud side.

I remember when I was nothing but a child -Virgil is ten years older then me. Did you know that? I forget that sometimes- I always had blond hair. I know that you and the other lights also have lighter coloured hair. Well anyway. Wrath hates my hair, says that I don't belong. I can also only do that little silencing trick when I'm on your side of the mind. And I can only automatically heal when on the light side too. Huh. I never released how long that list was. Maybe I'm just defective... That has to be it... Right?

I always looked up to you. You could tell people how it was and not cower when things go wrong. You truly are amazing Logan. You need to show the others that. I know that the others love and care for you. You need to accept that love logan! Please. Don't fall into a similar pit of despair I fell into so long ago. I never escaped that pit. Don't fall in it too.

I know how you like to cope Logan. You seek familiar things that remind you of that person. Thats why I did something for you. Under your bed is my all time favourite book, Good Omens, My favourite snacks and an USB with my playlist on it. I hope you love them as much as I did Logan. I'll write to you tomorrow.

~Janus Sanders

Janus wasn't lying when he found the little care package. Logan wasn't crying. Absolutely not! Patton was cooking with onions. Logan never released how much he loved chocolate covered pretzels and jazz until that moment.

The next day Logan didn't even bother to get dressed. He just grabbed the next letter. A soft pastel yellow with a blue seal. Logan tore it open, eger to read what the yellow side wrote next.

Dear Bluebell,

Kinda weird calling you that. But I guess I won't be alive long enough to see your negative reaction. Bluebells were always my favourite flower. Would it be rude to keep calling you bluebell? Well, I guess it's a little too late for that.

It just came to my attention that by this time tomorrow I'm going to be...Gone. I made the poison that would get rid of them. My venom is one of the only things that can kill a side. Would be a bit ironic dying from my own venom huh? Well, I might as well tell you my plan.

Do you remember that party you and the others snuck into? The masquerade? We're having another party tomorrow. And it was always my job to serve the wine. We can't have the others being suspicious to why I didn't drink my wine. They will be dead in less then ten minutes. My venom is painful. But it'll kill them. I'll kill them 10x over, I'm not looking forward to five minutes in where the venom shuts down your lungs.

Anyway, I'm a side known for plans right? Not always the best plans but it counts. I still remember debating with you as Patton. Maybe... Maybe I could sneak over today? Pathetic last wish, but I would love to have a hug and a movie. I'm going to head over to your side soon.

Bluebell Logan when I'm gone. I need you to do something for me. Don't let them forget me...Please. That is all I want. I don't want my body to be left inside of that empty house. I don't want to die next to the people I hate the most. All I ever wanted was to see you smile. I'll see you later today.

~Bumblebee

Logan was crying. That day... Janus asked for a hug and a movie.

He only gave Janus a hug after the look of heart break was too much for him to bear. Logan didn't wait to grab the next letter.

My Beloved Bluebell

Today is the day, I never thought I would admit this but... I'm scared. Do you think that there is Heaven and Hell for sides? If there is I guess I'm going to hell. Suicide is a sin. Not like anything else I've done deserves heaven.

I don't have very long for this letter. 30 minutes. I have 30 minutes till my heart stops. God I'm terrified. This is the last letter I'm writing Logan. I finished writing Virgil's letters yesterday. All thats left is your letter. And holy fuck I'm scared.

I have to do this, I overheard Wrath making a plan to overthrow the mind. I can't let that happen. I would fail at my only job. It doesn't matter if I'm scared or not, I need to do my job. Thomas would suffer if I didn't.

20 minuites, I have ten minutes till the party. My hand is shaking. Can you tell from my writing? I hope you can still read this. If you can't the letter is pointless.

Logan, I know that this is never something you would reciprocate but...

I love you. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I wanted to take you to the moon for a honeymoon and take you dancing among the stars. I wanted to be the tired husband that has to deal with your legionds of roommates. Logan I love you so god damn much I can't put it into words. I know you could never love me though. Its ok.

Take care of yourself for me please. Don't let your beautiful family fall apart. Don't let the despair of my death cause one of yours. Don't let one of the others blame themselves. This is no ones fault but mine.

I love you

~Janus Sanders

Logan dropped the letter and let out the most agonizing scream that could ever come out of his mouth. He cried. He cried and cried and cried. He cried until no more sound came out and his eyes burned.

He didn't notice when the other four came into the room and held him close.

All Logan did was trace the words on the page.

"I love you too, my bumblebee."

The sides could only feel the hole in their heart grow bigger.

~~~~~

I made myself sad again. I CAN'T EVEN CRY! MY PARENTS ARE IN THE ROOM! Curse my own brain ;-;

Here it is!

[nancypullen]

Good Stuff

Yesterday I gushed about our gardens, but a gal can't stay outside all day - at some point she has to come inside and clean up. I told you that I wanted to share a couple of products that I'm loving and as it turns out, they're all about cleaning up. I'll jump right in with the product that is hands down my favorite tool for tidying up. This granite spray is DIVINE.

Don't judge my rumpled table runner- I had to chase away a certain rebellious black and white cat. This granite cleaner is Heaven in a bottle. It's from Brandless so although it's not expensive ($4) I do have to order online. I can save money by bundling with other products, or by just ordering these handy refill pods.

It's just fantastic. I've tried high end products and dollar store products on my granite countertops and this is the only cleaner that leaves them looking glossy and new with one wipe. It's a bonus that it smells so good I'd wear it as perfume. It's non-toxic, EPA safer choice certified, and all of that good stuff - but it's mostly just a miracle in a bottle. By the way, not one bit of this blog post is sponsored in any way. I'm just telling you what I like. Moving on...

I love a house that smells good. Not strong smells that smack you in the face when you walk in, just a pleasant, clean smell. That's why I love this stuff.

I pick this up at Target and I'm hooked. I go back and forth between this Peony scent and their Honeysuckle. Both are soft and pleasant. Don't get me wrong, this is not a powerhouse cleanser that will take care of soap scum in a shower - this is a nice every day spray and wipe product. I like using it on window sills, or to wipe down high traffic doors where they get touched a lot. Our back door that opens to the deck is the worst, it gets grabbed by dirty hands and this cleans it right up. I also use this to wipe down the washer and dryer, and just odds and ends like that. Just cleaning the window sills in each room with this product is enough to create a lovely scent throughout the house. There's a wonderful menu of fragrances available, really something for everyone, and they're made with plant-derived ingredients and sold in recyclable packaging. Winner! Again, it's about $3.99 a bottle and because I don't use it for major cleaning jobs that bottle lasts quite a while. Did I mention a time or ten that I like for my house to smell good? I do. I just don't like an overpowering fragrance, and most candles or air fresheners give me a headache. Not these! These are delightful. I find that if I put one on a shelf in the laundry room and another at the other end of the house in a bedroom I can get the soft, fresh scent that I like. Just a hint, nothing overpowering. I grab these at Target and they're about $4 (I'm sensing a pattern) for a package of two.

My last little product is a sponge that my sister endorsed first. It's certainly not new, you're probably already using it - but how did we live so long with gross kitchen sponges before Scrub Daddy came along?

I love these. They get the job done whether you're cleaning up sticky, baked on stuff or just giving flatware or glasses a wash. They hold up so well and never get stinky. I toss mine on the top rack of the dishwasher now and then just to sanitize it. I almost feel guilty when I buy new because they truly don't wear out. Also, who doesn't like a cheerful face at the sink when you're faced with more dirty dishes? There are several varieties - Scrub Mommy has a soft sponge on one side and a scrubber on the other, and she's pink. I can't remember the rest of the family, there are some different shapes and textures, maybe those are the Scrub Cousins, I don't know. They can all be found at (you guessed it) Target and they come in at LESS than $4, they're a bargain at $3.69. Because I'm cheap frugal, I expect to pay about a buck for a scrubber/sponge. I have to admit that these are worth every penny and last far longer than the cheaper scrubbers. That's it, quite possibly one of the most boring blog posts I've written but I'm determined to get back into the habit of posting here. The content may be dry until I get a life. Just kidding, we all know that's not going to happen. I'll try to seek out more interesting topics, though. How do you feel about an essay contrasting and comparing snails and slugs? Maybe some poetry about house finches? Yeah, my cleaning product endorsements don't seem so bad now, do they? I'm off to bed with a cat and a book and, thanks to the above mentioned products, my house smells wonderful. I think it helps me to have sweet dreams. Or maybe it's because my head is full of whimsical thoughts as I drift off... I hope that big bee told all of his friends to visit my garden...I wonder if that crow was laughing at me or with me today? Tune in tomorrow for more riveting content. Until then, stay safe, stay well, and spread some love. XOXO, Nancy

[marril96]

The Boiling Point

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: Rowena takes her frustrations out on reader. Reader, in turn, snaps and says things she instantly comes to regret.

Editor: @oswinthestrange

Read on AO3.

You had had enough. 

Her full power being restored hadn't saved Rowena from finding herself at the mercy of Arthur Ketch. The former British Man of Letters, now a mercenary, had wanted her to recharge his Resurrection Seal. He had not asked nicely. Even still, Rowena had said no. It didn't matter how much he'd beaten her, first with his fists and feet and then, when he'd grown tired, with various instruments he'd had around. Her answer had remained the same, accompanied by sass and taunts that had only made the situation worse. 

Not much was different when Rowena had gotten home. Nothing you did had been good enough. She wasn't satisfied with the way you'd treated her injuries, constantly fidgeting and smacking your hands whenever they'd get anywhere close to her body. Her magic, she'd claimed, would be more useful. Unfortunately for her, she was still too weak to properly use it. So she lashed out at the closest person in vicinity, the honor of whom went to you. 

Rowena had found the bed uncomfortable. There wasn't much you could do about that; it had less to do with the bed and more with her injuries. It's hard to get comfortable when your entire body is covered in bruises. The pain pills you'd given her had been bitter, and so had the potion. You were certain you'd gotten the ingredients right. Rowena had a tendency to get herself into trouble and the potion to help speed up the healing process had become one you knew by heart. That hadn't stopped Rowena from accusing you of doing it wrong. 

The food you'd prepared for her, a simple meal from a can that just needed to be warmed up, had tasted terrible. With a psychotic mercenary on the loose, looking for his runaway witch, ordering delivery from her favorite restaurant hadn't been safe. For the next few days the two of you would have to lay low. Rowena wouldn't hear it; it was either restaurant food or nothing. She'd opted for nothing. 

The next thing she demanded was tea. That, too, had not been up to her standards. You'd put too much honey, she'd claimed. It was too sweet. So you did it again. And again. After the third rejected cup, you had had enough. 

"Would you stop acting like a brat?!" you snapped, no longer able to contain your anger. You'd been trying your hardest to take care of her. But, it seemed, the more you tried, the less pleased she was. 

Rowena stiffened. The two of you rarely argued, and when you had, you never yelled at her. Not like this. Swallowing the shock, she said, "I hardly think asking for a decent cup of tea constitutes acting like a brat." 

"It's not just the tea. It's everything! For the last two days, I've done nothing but take care of you. Not once have you said something nice to me. Not once! 

"Maybe I would have if you've done it right." 

Your fists clenched. Anger burned in your veins, blood as hot as lava. You had risked your life locating the secluded cabin Ketch had taken Rowena prisoner in and going there armed with nothing but your magic – magic that had been much weaker than hers. Had the mercenary not gone out, you would have most likely ended up gravely injured, as Rowena had, or even worse, dead. You had barely gotten an hour of sleep last night, hovering over Rowena like a mother hen. You'd spent most of the night making healing potions and stacking them up on shelves. You had run to her bedside every time she'd let out even the smallest of moans. 

You'd done your best to hold back your tears when you were around her; looking at her black and blue body was far from easy. You cried when you were alone, where she couldn't see or hear you. The last thing you wanted was your make her feel like you were pitying her. 

And how had she repaid you? By complaining about every single thing. 

"You're being really ungrateful," you accused. 

Rowena looked at you, eyes narrow, incredulity sprawled across her face. "What should I be grateful for? Being basically tortured by the person who rescued me? Being poisoned by food well past the expiration date and potions with god-knows-what in them?" 

The accusations stung. You wanted to cry. Why was she saying those things? You would have never harmed her on purpose. You had taken care of her before, the same way you had yesterday and today, and she'd never had a complaint. Not one. She had eaten that same food and drank those same potions many times in the past. There had never been any problems.  

"I can't believe you just said that," you whispered. Your voice was low, almost breaking. Your lower lip quivered. You bit it, pushing back the tears that threatened to fall. 

A look of guilt sprawled over Rowena's bruised face, but she quickly smothered it, featured turning emotionless, distant. 

"I never meant to hurt you." 

"Well, you did," she said.  

"Did I really, or are you just being a drama queen?" 

Her eyes widened. "How can you ask me that?" 

"I don't know. How can you accuse me of poisoning you?" you countered. Two could play this game. 

"I have been tortured by a bloody madman for hours!" Rowena snapped. "Only to then be subjected to the same treatment by you!" 

Not only have you supposedly tortured her, but now you were exactly the same as Ketch. Awesome! What was next? Was she going to compare you to Lucifer? 

"Great, Rowena. That's really great," you said sarcastically. 

"Just telling it as it is." 

"I think you're just being a bitch." If she could be one, so could you. 

She scowled at you. 

You scowled right back. 

"Keep it up and I'll leave you to fend for yourself," you said. Any other time it would have been a bluff, but now, after everything she'd thrown at you, after all those insults and baseless accusations, you were more than willing to act on the threat. 

Rowena's lip quivered. "Of course. Why do anything but cause me more pain? Throw me out on the streets and be done with me, why don't you? I'm just a burden." 

"Maybe you are!" you exclaimed. 

Rowena swallowed, surprised by your outburst. You weren't done, not by a longshot. Anger burned at your insides, all the frustrations that had gathered begging to be let out, begging to be unleashed upon the unsuspecting redhead. She wanted war. She had it. 

"Nothing I do is good enough for you! You always find something to complain about! Think this is easy for me? Think I like looking at you all bruised and bloody? I fucking hate it!" 

Tears spilled down your cheeks, burning your skin like fire. There was no point in holding them back anymore. Rowena had hurt you; you were more than willing to return the favor. She wasn't the only one who could hold a grudge. 

"I haven't had a good night of sleep for almost a year! All this time, I've been taking care of you. I can't remember the last time I put myself first! It's always you, you, you! I never complained. Not once. I put up with your constant crying fits and flashbacks without a single word!" 

Rowena's eyes rimmed with redness. A single tear slid down her cheek. "None of that is my fault," she said. Her lips trembled, voice quiet, barely above a whisper. 

"Oh, really?" You hated yourself for hurting her, but you couldn't stop. Your rant was far from over. She wanted you to be a monster. Here you were. "I told you not to trust Lucifer and you wouldn't listen. Now look what happened! You did it to yourself! You know, I bet the Ketch thing was also your fault. What did you do? Did you suck up to him, too, only for him to turn the tables? Seems to happen to you a lot." 

Tears poured down her face like a waterfall, fast and bitter. She pressed her lips into a line, holding back the sobs that threatened to break free of the containment of her throat. You had crossed the line. Guilt tugged at your heart like a beast digging its sharp talons into it, squeezing until there was nothing left but pain. Deep, excruciating pain tore at you, ripping you into pieces bit by bit. You should have left and given her time to calm down. There was no need to go that far. 

"Rowena–" you tried. 

She cut you off with a shout of, "Get out!" 

"Please, just–" 

"Get the hell out!" 

"Let me–" 

"I don't want to hear anything more! You've made yourself bloody clear! Now get out!" 

Rowena turned on her side, wincing and hissing as she did so, her injuries protesting the movement. She brought her hands to her face and, careful not to agitate the cuts and bruises, pressed her palms against it. She was hiding from you. Dread settled in your stomach at the realization. She didn't want you to see her. You'd lost the privilege to see her weak, to see her broken and shattered. You had used her weakness against her, something you'd promised never to do. You'd lost count of how many times you assured her that you weren't like the others, that you would never hurt her and betray her on purpose. That you weren't the Loughlins, the Winchesters, and Lucifer. That you wouldn't throw her out like trash when she was at her weakest, chain her up and exploit her, break her trust when she least expected it. That you would make her life heaven rather than hell. 

So much for that. 

Heart-wrenching sobs followed you as you closed the door behind you on your way out. More tears rushed down your face. You had hurt the one you love when she needed you the most. You had broken your promises. You had betrayed her trust. 

You could only hope she would eventually forgive you. You didn't know how you could live with yourself otherwise. 

A few hours had passed when you decided to try to make it up to Rowena. You hadn't rested for one moment, thoughts overflown with memories of earlier today. Her accusations. Your anger. Snapping at her. Telling her things you had never wanted to tell anyone, let alone the person you loved more than anything in the world. Her tear-streaked face. Screams for you to get out. Sobs that still echoed in your head as if you were hearing them right now. 

You had to fix this. Both for Rowena's sake and yours. 

Grabbing a couple of pain pills and a healing potion, you headed for the room. The pills she had taken earlier today had most likely started to fade. She needed a new dosage, lest she would be in pain. Ketch had made sure of that. 

A loud thud followed by a yelp prompted you to hurry. Had Ketch found you? The strong warding had made sure that your home couldn't be located through supernatural means. GPS and the like, on the other hand, did the job just fine. There had yet to be a spell that would hide your location from anyone. Even if there was, you doubted Rowena would cast it; as much as she treasured her safety, deliveries from her favorite restaurants and boutique shops had priority. You, too, had a habit of ordering online. Why buy expensive books when you can order them for half a price and have them delivered to your door? You weren't an animal. 

You burst in like the room was on fire, a spell lingering at the tips of your lips, ready to be cast upon the intruder. You never went into a fight unprepared. If no hex bags had been at hand, a simple Abi would work just fine, especially if the attacker was human. 

You breathed out in relief to find the room bare and untouched, no intruder in sight. 

Then your breath hitched – again – as your eyes fell upon the cause of the noise. Rowena knelt on the hardwood floor, holding herself up by her elbows. Her shaky arms barely supported her weight. Your heart ached with sympathy. You were aware that she wasn't able to walk on her own; even with your support, she barely remained on her feet, legs fighting to stay balanced under the pressure on immense pain. One wrong move and she would stumble. 

Ketch had beaten her in all the right places. She had, at one point, almost escaped him. He had made sure that there wouldn't be a second time. Her legs were more purple than creamy. Save for her feet, there was barely a spot without a bruise. Her arms were injured, as well, but far less than other parts of her body. Though, it seemed, they were failing her, too. 

Rowena was panting, desperately struggling to keep herself up. A few whimpers escaped her, weak, broken, like that of an injured puppy begging for help. As soon as her eyes met yours, she pressed her lips into a tight line, trapping all the noises. She looked at you like a wounded animal, eyes big, doe-like, desperate for help, but too proud to show it. 

No, not proud. 

Hurt. 

"Rowena!" Hurriedly setting the pills and potion on the bedside table, you knelt beside her. "What happened?" Had she attempted to walk? Guilt that had been tearing at you seeped into your voice, mixing with concern. If you'd been here, this wouldn't have happened. She wouldn't have gotten hurt again. 

Rowena averted her eyes, a fast movement, almost a twitch. Pressing her palms firmly against the floor, she tried to raise herself up. Her trembling arms gave in and she found herself on her elbows again, a slap of skin and bone against the hard wood of the floor. Rowena yelped, breathing deeply, unevenly, trying to old back cries of pain. Hair spilled down her back and over her shoulders, like a red, silky blanket hiding her face. 

Hiding it from you. 

Swallowing the guilt, you reached out. Her hand slapped yours, almost instinctively; it was more a gentle pat than a slap, but it got the message across. She didn't want you to touch her. 

The rejection hurt, but you couldn't be mad at her. You had hurt her. Her soul was in just as much pain as her body was. All because of you. 

"Let me help you," you said, tone a soft plea. 

"Stay away from me!" Rowena snapped. 

"Please, let me help." 

"I don't want anything from you!" 

You tried not to let it hurt too much. You failed. Every rejection, every shout tore a hole in your heart. You'd been attacked by a werewolf once; it had scratched your chest to the point of peeling off all layers of skin in its attempts to get to your heart, sharp claws digging in and out of your skin like a shovel digging a hole in the ground. Rowena's words hurt almost as much. 

You couldn't blame her. Had the roles been reversed, you would have been pissed at her beyond belief. 

Deciding to risk it, you stood up and walked behind Rowena. 

"What are you doing?" she asked, eyes following you cautiously. 

You wrapped your arms around her torso, clasping your hands one over the other on her chest, under her breasts. She could be mad all she wanted. What mattered the most was helping her. If that meant pissing her off even more, so be it. You could live with her anger. You could live with her hating you. You could live with anything other than her being in pain, especially when you could do something to lessen it. 

"Let go of me!" Rowena hissed. You feared that she would try to wiggle out of your hold, but, to your surprise, she remained still. She needed help and she knew it. She just wouldn't admit it. 

"Sorry, sweetheart." You meant it. But not for helping her. "I have to do this." 

"Let go!" 

"I'm sorry, but I can't." 

Carefully, you raised her to her feet. Rowena's knees wobbled, too weak to support her weight. She was barely a hundred pounds; she should have been able to walk. Damn you, Ketch! The sight of her shaking, legs, torso, and face purple and red with bruises and lacerations that, in some places, looked like a tigers stripes tore at you. It was almost unnatural. Rowena's skin wasn't supposed to be that color. Nobody's skin was! 

You helped her to the bed, sitting her down with utmost care. Rowena let out a sign of relief. Her hands felt the soft surface, fingers digging into the sheets as if to make sure that they were real. You reached for her hand. She pulled instantly pulled it away, like a reflex, an instinct, and laid it on her lap. Fixing your mess was going to be difficult. Rowena had been known to hold a grudge for centuries. 

That hadn't discouraged you in the slightest. You just had to try harder. 

"Can we talk? Please?" you asked. 

"I have nothing to say to you," she replied coldly. 

"I have a few things to say to you." 

"You've said enough." 

She wasn't wrong. 

"Can you give me a chance to try to fix it?" 

Rowena looked at you for a split second, then turned her head again. 

"Please?" 

You were met with silence. 

You decided to give it a shot. You had nothing to lose. Rowena hated you. She couldn't hate you more than she already had. 

"I didn't mean what I said," you said. "I swear. I just… The things you were saying to me hurt, and I wanted to hurt you back. I didn't mean that go that far." 

Rowena lowered her head. She still wouldn't look at you. 

You continued, "What happened to you wasn't your fault. It was shitty of me to say that it was. I don't blame you for anything. I swear. I don't mind taking care of you. Yeah, it's difficult sometimes, but it's not a problem. To be honest, I kinda like it. Because you trust me. You have no idea how much that means to me." 

Being woken up by screams and punches sucked. But that didn't make you love Rowena any less. If anything, it made you love her more. She trusted you with her weakness, let you hold her and comfort her, let you be the one to pull her from the darkness of terrifying memories back into the light of your love. You could handle sleepless nights. Rowena was the one who had to live with the trauma. The least you could do was help her get through it. 

Finally, Rowena looked at you. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. You let your lips curl into a small smile. You reached for her hand again, and this time she let you hold it. Both of your hands clasped around hers, fingers twining with her own ones. Her skin was warm, like sunshine in human form. 

"I'm sorry. I was angry and I crossed the line. I know it's not an excuse, but it's the truth. I never meant to hurt you like that. I promise I won't do it again. Give me another chance." 

A tear slid down your cheek. Rowena raised her free hand and brushed her forefinger against it, wiping the tear away. She cupped your cheek. You leaned into her palm, heart fluttering at the feeling of her warmth on your face. She was gentle, caring, almost – dare you say – motherly. Her thumb stroked your skin, rubbing soft circles. 

"Please," you said, more tears falling. 

"Shh," she whispered tenderly. "It's alright, darling." 

"Do you hate me?" you whimpered. 

She shook her head. 

"I'd hate me." 

"I don't." 

You swallowed. Anther whimper fell from your mouth. "I'm really sorry." 

"I know you are." 

"I love you." 

"I know." 

"Forgive me." 

"I do." 

One more tear slipped your eye, sliding down to Rowena's thumb. She ran the finger over it, smudging it away. 

"You do?" you asked, unable to hide your disbelief. Rowena didn't forgive, not that easily. 

"Aye," she said with a nod. She smiled, but her lips quickly morphed back into a line as the movement pulled at the split. A kick and punch – or several – tends to do that. 

"You're not mad?" 

"I was," she said. "But you've come to apologize, and I can tell that you're honest. That accounts for a lot, dear. And also…" She drew in a breath. "I haven't been very kind to you, either." 

That was an understatement. 

At the very least, she was owning up to it. It was rare for Rowena to admit when she was wrong. 

"I… apologize." It was difficult for her to will the word to leave her mouth. In almost four years of knowing Rowena, she had only apologized four times – three of those were for manipulation purposes, and one was sarcasm from when you were teasing her. This was the first time she had said it and meant it. "I have no complaints about your treatment of me. You've never been anything short of lovely. I suppose I was just angry. At myself. I've unlocked my magic, yet that bloody Neanderthal managed to hurt me. I'm supposed to be the most powerful witch in the world, and I got kidnapped and tortured by a wee human." 

"That wasn't your fault." You squeezed her hand to emphasize your words." Shit happens; it'll keep happening. That doesn't mean you're weak." 

"I'm supposed to be invincible." 

"No one's invincible, Rowena." 

Her eyes sparkled with tears. "Then how am I supposed to protect myself from Lucifer?" Her voice trembled as she said the archangel's name. 

Sharp pain tugged at your heart, like an arrow piercing straight through it. Lucifer. That had been the main reason she was so desperate to get her full magic back. She thought the fear and nightmares would stop, but they had remained. Power meant nothing when your soul was as wounded as hers had been. She could have had power equaling that of a deity, or lost it all and reverted back to a weakly human; it didn't matter. The trauma would follow her through all stages of life. Being blinded, beaten, and burned alive would always be a part of her, always be in her past. 

"Ketch is a cunning son of a bitch. He snuck up on you. We'll be more careful from now on," you said. "And when Lucifer comes calling, you'll kick his ass." You flashed her an encouraging smile. "Don't worry. I know you got this. You're badass." 

Rowena returned the smile. "I'm badass," she repeated. 

"Bet your ass you are." 

Her smile faded. "Thank you, darling." 

"For what?" 

"Being here despite how I treated you." 

"I could say the same to you," you said. "Why don't we put it behind us? Act like it never happened?" 

"Alright," Rowena agreed with a nod.  

You beamed, happy that it had finally been settled. 

"Why were you on the floor?" you asked. 

"I wanted to get painkillers." She lowered her head in shame. "It's a short walk. I thought I could make it." 

"I brought you some." You motioned to the pills and potion on the bedside table. One of your hands released hers, rising up to her cheek. Your fingers brushed against an uninjured spot, skin against skin, warmth against warmth, letting her know that it was okay. There was no shame in being injured. "Does it hurt a lot?" 

"Hurts like hell," Rowena replied honestly. 

"Just a moment." You tried to stand up to get the medicine, but Rowena's hand on your arm stopped you. 

"Wait! Could-could I get something to eat first? The pills always make me drowsy." 

"Of course! But we only have cans. I mean, I could try to make you something, but I doubt it'd be edible." Not only would it not be edible, but it would possibly be deadly. If she were to eat your homemade food, Rowena would have valid reasons to accuse you of poisoning her. 

"Canned food is fine." 

"You sure?" 

"Aye. It's not that bad," she admitted with a small chuckle. "I'll survive. Hopefully." 

Had she not been injured, you would have playfully slapped her shoulder. Instead, you gave a small laugh. "I'll go warm it up. Wanna lie down while you wait?" 

Rowena shook her head. "I'm good." 

You nodded. "Hey, Rowena?" 

"Yes?" 

"Can I hug you?" 

"Of course you can!" 

Spreading your arms open, you let her nuzzle into you. Given the full extent of her injuries, pulling her to you would only cause her pain. Once she had settled, comfortable, you gently put your arms around her. She was like a glass doll, fragile, cracked around the edges. One wrong move and you could break her. Even still, she trusted you; trusted her to handle her with utmost care, to love her, to protect her. 

You swore to never do anything – again – to lose that trust.

A/N: This story was inspired by a fantasy @oswinthestrange and I wrote out together.

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @darktweet @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @royalrowena @supwhorecorp @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @victoriasagittariablack @rowenaswife @laeshhh @dropsofpetrichor @fromflametofire @xfireandsin

[mother-snake]

I FOUND FREE TIME!! Sorry if this one is a bit rushed Jessie!!

Italics are memories

-----

The first thing a yellow side notices is that his head feels like its being split open. The second thing is that he's laying on a very soft couch. And the third? The third is that he doesn't remember anything.

He makes a slight noise of discontent before opening his eyes, only to have five people swarm him. Talking to him very fast and keep trying to touch him. He tries to curl up only to be unable to move.

One by one the colourful people back away only a dark blue person stayed by him. His lips keep moving but it all sounds like its underwater. Only to clear.

"-us, Janus! Can you hear us?"

His voice is raspy but he manages to respond, "Who's Janus?"

The people seemed to not like that answer, he didn't know why but making someone upset makes him feel like he's in danger, the indigo side didn't react that much.

"You are Janus, that is your name. Do you remember us?"

Janus shook his head.

"Well, I am Logan, Thomas's logic. The red side is Roman, one half of creativity. Green is Remus, the second half of creativity. The purple one is Virgil, he represents anxiety. And the light blue side is Patton. Thomas's morality.

Janus seemed to be taking the information in. Thinking about that one name he said... What was it? Timothy? Tobias? Travis?

"Do you remember Thomas?"

Janus had to stop and think. Thomas... Thomas was their centre. I'm one of his sides. Janus nodded

Logan handed Janus a glass of water, helping him take careful sips. The water felt like heaven, it was cool and soothing. But the heaven was gone soon enough.

"Do you remember your function?"

He squeezed his eyes shut trying to remember. "Deception?.....Or was it self preservation? I- I can't remember."

Logan had a small smile on his lips. "You are correct, your title is Deceit and your function is Self Preservation."

"Deceit... Isn't lying bad? Am I bad? Why does my head hurt?" Janus didn't notice the looks of pain on the others faces because they put those thoughts there.

Logan's smile disappeared. "No, you are not a bad side. You work for the good of Thomas. Why would you think that?"

"Because they told me so."

"Who?"

"..... I don't remember... They wore a lot of black."

"Do you mean the Dark Sides?"

A sharp gasp came from the yellow side. Blood, there is so much blood. Its my blood. Screaming. No, not screaming. Yelling. I'm running, the hallway is dark, the rug keeps triping me, my door lock is broken, I'm hiding... I can feel my breath.... The door to my room is open. Orange. I scream.

Janus is still screaming, he's trying to run but something is holding him down, he can feel someones breath. "Let me go! Please I'll do what you want!" he feels a slight sting in his arm before his eyes get blurry. The voices in the background get farther away as he feels himself involuntarily relax and fall back asleep.

Logan pulls the needle away as Roman, Remus and Virgil all let go of the sleeping side. Worry is blinding them as all of them walk into the kitchen to talk.

"The NopeRope doesn't remember anything. What do we do here?" Roman kept messing with his sash.

"His memory seems to come back with certain prompts or questions. However it seems to have a bad reaction-"

"A bad reaction? A BAD REACTION?? Logan, he was screaming for help while repeating the word no! That is more then JUST a bad reaction!!

Logan sighed, "Virgil, I know that you're worried about him but he does need to get his memory back."

"Does he?"

Everyone was now staring at Patton.

"I mean well, if he doesn't remember what the others put him through and what we put him through maybe he would be happier? He just looks to peaceful while he's asleep that I've never seen him have before."

"He will most likely remember anyway when he sees the scars, we can not hide this from him forever."

The kitchen was now an awkward silence. Until Remus broke it.

"How long till he wakes up, nerd?"

"Should be around 3 hou-"

"He'll be awake in five"

"What? Why five?"

"He's smaller then normal, plus he's not a full grown side yet, so-"

"What?" Patton didin't seem happy knowing that info.

Remus shugged, "he popped up in the gray when Thomas was ten, followed virgil around like a lost puppy next to a railroad. He just grew fangs a few months ago! I don't think they have venom though, bit of a shame. Everything is better with venom.-"

"Remus, getting off track here. Janus is the youngest?"

Remus nodded enthusiastically. "Yep" poping the P, "he was a cute little baby snake! Loved strawberries! The other three didn't like him very much though."

Patton was pressing his palms to his eye sockets. "they burned, beat and tried to kill a child?"

Remus nodded and looked to the ground.

The sides split up to go a few things before Janus woke up again.

When Janus opened his eyes all he could smell was strawberries. A song played in the background. He felt stronger and managed to sit up. He looked on the TV to see a frog singing the loveliest lies of them all.

"Vee! Vee!" Boucing up and down. "Can we watch Over The Garden Wall?" Virgil looked over at the shorter side. "You just watched it yesterday, short stack" even though the yellow side was 15 he still bounced and gave Virgil the puppy dog eyes. Virgil sighed, "Fine. Bring up the episode." trying and failing to sound annoyed. The smaller side smiled even wider.

"Vee?" Janus mumbled under his breathe the name. The side in the memory looked similar to...What was his name? VIRGIL! That was it! Was Vee Virgil? The snake zoned out in his thoughts and the song from the frog. Only to be brought out of it when a light blue side stood in front if him.

"Patton? That was your name right?"

"Yep! You got it in one mr scales!" Patton seemed nice, wait. Scales?

Get out of here you slimy boi! reptilian rapscallion! Snake! Evil! Villian! You are no good for Thomas! Just leave! Leave! LEAVE! LEAVE!

Janus lifted his hand and touched the left side of his face. Smooth scales greeted his hand and old burnt skin next to his eye. Tears started to leak for a reason he couldn't pin point. Continuously touching the scales, stoking over the sharp bottom of scales. Sooner then he thought someone was sitting next to him.

Patton sat next to him and was counting numbers.

1 2 3 4. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Janus didn't know what the numbers where but he followed along anyway.

Soon he could smell the strawberries again. He likes strawberries right? Janus thinks he likes strawberries. When he looks up, Patton gives him a hug. Wincing when his arms touch something on his back.

More and more time passes. With each memory things get clearer. Janus still doesn't know why he can't remember anything. Until another memory happens.

"WILL YOU PLEASE JUST SHUT UP?" " No! Roman I want to apologize! I'm sorry I compared you to your brother! I'm sorry I manipulated you at the courtroom! I'm sorry I sent Remus to deal with my problems! You don't have to forgive me but ay least listen to me!" Roman growls "FUCK OFF!!" And suddenly, he is back at the dark household.

He needs to get out before the others find him. Who knows what they would do to h- "Ohhh Deceit! So lovely for you to stop by~" Too late.

He runs to his room, tripping on the carpet. The lock is broken. He hides in the closet. Wrath finds him. He's dragged to the dark side commons and chained to a wall for days to become the personal punching bad. Apathy set him on fire, Wrath beat him up and Depression.... Depression did something to his head. He was thrown into the gray after depression had his fun. Then he blacked out

Janus doesn't want to leave his room. He's being punished for wanting to apologize. That seems like bullshit to him.

Weeks pass. People keep knocking on his door, they say that they're worried. What a bunch of liars.

After a month, the sides make Thomas take them inside if the bedroom. After a bit of convincing, Janus tells them everything.

And much to his surprise. They are livid.

------

Beep boop. Thingy done! I hope this thing made sense! Brain is broken atm. This one was inspired by Once Upon a December from Anastasia.

This turned out a lot more fluffy then I originally thought.... Hope ya like it! I need to go write a poem now ❤💛❤

protcetive sides alert! yeah! may i say that this is some quality content? im running out of things to say wihout repeating myself but they are all just so amazing and normaly leave me with energy to write stuff. (sorry im responding to these now, i was asleep when i got them last night and consumed by school fr the past few hours...)