#i think this is the wrong sc but i can’t be bothered to air drop it from my ipad rn

[marmeow]

langa sc redraw :3

i made him unintentionally vv fluffy but that’s ok bc my favourite person was vv fluffy :))

pls click/tap image for much better quality!!

[racingtoaredlight]

THE DEGENERATE’S GUIDE TO COLLEGE FOOTBALL TV WATCH ‘EM UPS 2021: WEEK TWO, A MUDDLED AND MAUDLIN WEEK OF MAYHEM IN HONOR OF THOSE WE LOST

RTARL would like to extend our warmest holiday wishes to those who celebrate and, even if you don’t, happy 9/11. Now who’s ready for some FOOTBALL!!!!?!?!

So after two weeks of games that combine to count as only one official week even though some teams have already played twice we have only one real question answered: is Alabama still good? Yes, they are. Everything else is still liquefying vapor.

I am assuming everybody is waiting with baited breath for an RTARLsman but I don’t have anything yet. I guess the not-Master Teague RBs on Ohio State are the frontrunners for now. Or that one guy from that one team who was good. You know who I mean.

Saturday, September 11

Matchup    Time (ET)     TV/Mobile

Illinois at Virginia   11:00am   ACCN

Jeff George won Citrus Bowl MVP for the Illini against the Hoos in his last game as a student athlete before becoming the #1 overall pick in the 1990 NFL Draft. Based on this history it is safe to presume that whoever the QB is for Illinois today will be the #1 pick in 2022.

VMI at Kent State   11:30am   ESPN3

I’m not sure on this but maybe this game is cancelled.

WKU at Army    11:30am   CBSSN

Army is favored by 6. I bet this game is boring.

Norfolk State at Wake Forest    12:00pm   ACCNX

I don’t see a line listed but whatever it is bet against Wake covering.

Indiana State at Northwestern     12:00pm    BTN

This game is an act of terrorism.

Alabama State at 25 Auburn     12:00pm    SECN

Real body bag season starts today, huh?

Youngstown State at Michigan State  12:00pm   BTN

The Michigan State running back is the guy I was trying to think of earlier! He’s pretty good. Not good enough to make me watch this but I will check on his stats every so often.

Tulsa at Oklahoma State   12:00pm   FS1

I bet Mike Gundy has some really salient thoughts on the 20th anniversary of 9/11 and I can’t wait to hear them.

South Carolina at East Carolina   12:00pm      ESPN2

South Carolina is a two point favorite against an East Carolina team that is, per my understanding, not exactly good. So I can only extrapolate that South Carolina is likewise not good.

Pitt at Tennessee  12:00pm   ESPN

Look, I’m not going to pretend this is good television but if Pitt rocks their classic yellow helmets and Tennessee wears non-alternates the colors on the screen will at least be pleasing. The thought of the actual football involved hurts my brain but it’s interesting that the points have gone from a consensus pick ‘em to Pitt -3 over the course of the week. Does Tennessee have any players that are good enough that by missing the game they could impact the gambling that much? Or are people just squaring themselves with the fact the the Vols are really and truly a ruined burnt out hole of a football program? Pound the latter.

12 Oregon at 3 Ohio State  12:00pm   FOX

Losing Kayvon Thibideaux certainly isn’t going to help Oregon but he’s not usually on the field as a run stopper anyway and if Ohio State learned anything last week it’s that they can just run until they feel like throwing a pass. Oregon actually has some legit talent on the d-line besides Thibideaux but the Ducks are gonna be hard-pressed to keep things within two scores here.

Miami (Ohio) at Minnesota   12:00pm   ESPN

If Oregon can’t make a game of it in Columbus look out because this time block is an absolute wasteland. There is scant reason to turn the TV on for the early schedule other than gambling purposes.

Kennesaw State at Georgia Tech   12:00pm    RSN/ESPN3

Georgia Tech probably should have closed up shop after Paul Johnson retired. Either that or just absolutely slathered the football program in dollars. The Yellow Jackets being unable to land any big time recruits while playing in Atlanta is a real mindfuck. They aren’t a AA program playing dress up in a “power” conference they’ve got actual history. I don’t mean to give the impression I want them to be good but I don’t understand how they can be such fodder for so long.

13 Florida at USF    1:00pm    ABC

Remember that year when USF was the best program in the state? Wild stuff. Weird, wild stuff. I know the deal with UF is that they don’t go out of state for contract games but it’s actually kind of surprising they even bothered to keep this trip to Tampa on the schedule. Like the area recruits would probably be happier to go see a game at The Swamp than to kick around their hometown for a pile of shit like this.

Wyoming at NIU    1:30pm   ESPN+

I’m not gonna open the ESPN app for this but if it was on ESPN2 I’d probably check in on it during commercials. Aesthetically pleasing trash with an upside for actual entertainment.

Middle Tennessee at 19 Virginia Tech    2:00pm   ACCNX

Virginia Tech’s home crowd scene was the normie story of last week’s games. People that don’t watch college football were either aghast or frantically waving their blue lives matter flags in response. Us in this space just ate the shame and forgot it happened by the time Saturday’s games kicked off. My theory is that VPI is not actually any good but UNC’s 2020 season was a well-timed fluke and the last hurrah of Mack Brown’s storied coaching career. The Hokies are at home, though, and MTSU is almost certainly not on the same athletic level as the Turkey Gobblers so I’d probably take the home team -20 if I were so inclined to wager on this particular game that is being broadcast on the ACC’s new pornography channel.

Rutgers at Syracuse    2:00pm    ACCN

Holy fuck does this game suck. Reuniting former Big East, uh, rivals (??? does Rutgers have any natural enemies?) in a cross-conference classic betwixt the B1G and the ACC.

Duquesne at Ohio   2:00pm   ESPN3

I don’t think I need to explain to you all the national title implications riding on this game.

Toledo at 8 Notre Dame    2:30pm     Peacock

Just remember that if you subscribe to Peacock you are at the very least tacitly supporting Notre Dame. If for some reason you’re watching this please report back on how many of those defensive pick plays Notre Dame runs. They were doing that shit constantly against Florida State last week and it drove me nuts. I think the idea is that you are so flagrantly illegal so often that the refs grow numb to it and just don’t call it at all.

Robert Morris at Central Michigan     3:00pm    ESPN3

Not to be outdone by the early games, the 3 o’clock set is equally terrible.

Purdue at UConn    3:00pm    CBSSN

I bet Edsall still gets bonuses for stupid shit even now that he’s retired or whatever the official designation was for him no longer coaching.

Boston College at UMass    3:30pm    FloFootball/NESN+

I don’t know what FloFootball is but I know it isn’t anything to do with the state of Florida.

Ball State at 11 Penn State    3:30pm    FS1

It surprises me to see Penn State as only -22.5 favorites. That seems very kind to Ball State. Hopefully I’m wrong and the Ball State Lettermans take it to the Sanduskys.

Murray State at 7 Cincinnati    3:30pm    ESPN+

Practice week continues.

Temple at Akron    3:30pm    ESPN+

Pound the under.

Georgia Southern at Florida Atlantic   3:30pm   Stadium

There is really nothing going on this week.

Air Force at Navy   3:30pm   CBS

Middies vs. Fly Boys in the first leg of the Commander’s Cup on the twentieth anniversary of 9/11. I can’t imagine the amount of emotional manipulation that’s going to make its way onto this broadcast. Normally I watch these games but I don’t think I can do it this year.

UAB at 2 Georgia    3:30pm    ESPN2

Georgia may well be absurdly talented on the defensive side of the ball but I’d be surprised to see them make it through the regular season with fewer than two losses.

5 Texas A&M at Colorado     3:30pm     FOX

This is only interesting if the Aggies spring a leak.

California at TCU    3:30pm    ESPNU

Things most certainly are not looking up.

Buffalo at Nebraska    3:30pm    BTN

Nebraska is in an interesting position because if they buck the odds and end up being good after we’ve all been so ready to see a National Championship-winning coach get fired that would be funny but if they end up being really bad it’s even funnier. Go Bulls!

Mercer at 1 Alabama    4:00pm   SECN

I’ll cry a little if Saban pulls the starters in the first half and the Tide beats Mercer by less than they beat Miami.

South Alabama at Bowling Green   4:00pm    ESPN+

10 Iowa at 9 Iowa State    4:30pmABC

This is not the kind of top 10 matchup I can just sit idly by and let it happen. Your silence is complicity in this monstrous display of modernity.

SC State at 6 Clemson    5:00pm      ACCN

Clemson dropped all the way to #6 and they’ll hang around the top of the polls because they don’t have the toughest conference schedule in the world but my confidence in them is not high right now. I think the new QB is just a guy. He’s talented as hell but I don’t see him being great.

Illinois State at Western Michigan     5:00pm   ESPN3

This is either MACtion or MACtion adjacent and I have only one word for this midwestern trash: abhorrent.

LIU at West Virginia   5:00pm    ESPN+

LIU plays football?

Lamar at UTSA      6:00pm    ESPN3

Downside: You’re watching one of the least important games of the year. Upside: You’re really not missing anything.

Portland State at Washington State    6:00pm    P12N

Washington State was a perfect spot for the stupid pirate fuckhead and his leaving has ruined the program and, eventually, his reputation. Not relevant to this game necessarily but this game isn’t relevant to anything else, either.

Gardner-Webb at Charlotte   6:00pm    ESPN3

Oh, yeah, feel the excitement.

Bethune-Cookman at UCF   6:30pm   ESPN+

Go Cats.

NC Central at Marshall    6:30pm    ESPN+

The hits keep coming.

Houston at Rice   6:30pm    CBSSN

I’ve always had a soft spot for Holgo and for Houston football but somehow I really don’t like seeing him coach the Cougs. This is SWC magic but with no magic. UNLESS! Houston can put up 100. I don’t think they even have the guys to do it but this is Rice we’re talking about here.

Nicholls at Louisiana    7:00pm    ESPN3

Keep the energy up.

North Texas at SMU   7:00pm   ESPN+

I bet is MS621 were still alive he’d be at this game giving Spencer’s boys hell. Sadly he died doing what he loved, curing his COVID by eating ivermectin paste out of a horse’s butt. R.I.P., friend. Neigh to you wherever you are.

Southeastern La. at Louisiana Tech   7:00pm    ESPN3

Even the low tier stuff is geared up for annihilation. This is a bodybag week for all time.

Memphis at Arkansas State    7:00pm    ESPN+

Memphis getting less than a touchdown against Arkansas State seems like easy money but I have no real concept of either of these teams just yet. Maybe the end is nigh for the Tigers glory years? I sure hope not but it’s possible.

NC State at Mississippi State    7:00pm     ESPN2

This game should be as fun as a parents funeral.

Southern Illinois at Kansas State   7:00pm      ESPN+

Over the past week I experienced derision for referring the the guys in purple and silver as “Kansas State” instead of “K State” and that stung because it always surprises me that anybody cares about them enough to have a strong opinion about them.

Stephen F. Austin at Texas Tech    7:00pm    ESPN+

Shrugs

15 Texas at Arkansas    7:00pm   ESPN

Let’s see if Texas is ready to run with the big boys of the SEC! Arkansas is given a decent shot to win this game and that makes the “15″ next to Texas appear extremely suspect in my eyes.

Texas Southern at Baylor    7:00pm   ESPN+

This week Texas Southern is the people’s champion.

Texas State at FIU   7:00pm    ESPN+

Oh, Butch, why have you done this to yourself?

Western Carolina at 4 Oklahoma      7:00pm     PPV

All the Westen Carolina fans are buying this PPV to see their guys score 40.

New Mexico State at New Mexico    7:00pm     Stadium

I looked up the historic rivalry last year to figure out why it was played early in the season instead of at the end but I’ve forgotten and don’t feel the need to look it up again. I figured out how to watch Stadium on my TV but I also forgot that and don’t feel the need to look it up again.

Appalachian State at 22 Miami (FL)  7:00pm   ESPNU

My gut tells me Miami is probably legitimately about the 14th best team in the country but I still would never advise you to bet actual money on the Hurricanes. Are they 9 points better than App State? Easily. They should win by 20+. Are they liable to fuck around and lose or scrape out a win in the final seconds? Absolutely. Let’s fuckin’ go.

Morgan State at Tulane    7:00pm    ESPN+

A lot of people learned to love the Green Wave last week but it’s hard to keep that going with their schedule. Don’t forget them later in the year when the CBSSN glow is really shining.

Liberty at Troy   7:00pm   ESPN+

Liberty -4 is maybe my surest advice of the week. If Malik Willis is as good as his press the fake school should have this game on ice early.

Eastern Michigan at 18 Wisconsin   7:00pm    FS1

I find Wisconsin’s losing effort against Penn State last week to be a personal affront against me and all of nature.

Eastern Kentucky at Louisville    7:00pm   ACCNX

I think this game being broadcast at night on ACCNX means they’re playing naked.

Grambling State at Southern Miss    7:00pm    ESPN3

This is the kind of game that belongs on an app.

Hampton at Old Dominion    7:00pm    ESPN3

This is the kind of game that belongs on a well-worn high school football field.

Austin Peay at 20 Mississippi   7:30pm     ESPN+/SECN+

This is a pretty big OOC game for an SEC team.

Georgia State at 24 North Carolina    7:30pm    RSN/ESPN3

One of several GSUs, I think this is the one I most hope emerges victorious this week.

Idaho at Indiana   7:30pm    BTN

Wait, wasn’t Indiana like #10 last week? What the hell happened to them? No, don’t tell me. Seriously, don’t.

Missouri at Kentucky     7:30pm    SECN

When the SEC hits 24 teams the “S!E!C!” chants are gonna seem really stupid.

Howard at Maryland    7:30pm    BTN

There’s no official line for this game but I hope the Bison can pull off the upset in this classic local rivalry game.

Jacksonville State at Florida State    8:00pm   ACCN

Still shaking my head at FSU icing their own kicker. Jesus, Norvell. Get your shit together.

McNeese at LSU     8:00pm      ESPN+/SECN+

LOLSU was my lock of the week last week if you’re considering taking gambling advice from me.

Washington at Michigan    8:00pm    ABC

UDub lost to a 1-AA team last week and now they have to go on the road and beat Michigan. Which seems inevitable, to be honest.

Cal Poly at Fresno State    10:00pm    CW59

The murder rate will continue to increase as the day progresses. I always kind of like it when a local broadcast shows up on the sheet. So pretty much none of us have legal access to this game. It makes it more special.

San Diego State at Arizona    10:00pm    P12N

Pac-12 Network is similar to CW59 in that almost nobody in the country has legal access to their broadcasts. If you’ve read enough of these posts you are aware that SDSU is my weird very deep backup team. I don’t have a reason to align myself with the school or program, I just tend to enjoy watching their games.

Vanderbilt at Colorado State     10:00pm    CBSSN

This is an abomination.

21 Utah at BYU     10:15pm    ESPN

This is a lowkey fun rivalry. I’m pretty sure I write the same thing every year but it’s still true. Go Utes.

Stanford at 14 USC     10:30pm    FOX

I think USC could win a national championship and I’d still be baffled that Clay Helton is their coach. Of course, they won’t win a national championship as long as Clay Helton is their coach but they apparently won’t ever get embarrassing enough to fire him, either.

Idaho State at Nevada    10:30pm    Stadium

This is the lowpoint of the week’s schedule and you have to stay up late to watch it on a network that only exists as an app or as part of a hidden unlockable download-only level of cable subscription. This is the beauty of the college game.

UNLV at 23 Arizona State    10:30pm   ESPN2

Herm Edwards figured out the trick to looking good in the Pac-12 without having a particularly great team and I can’t make up my mind if I’m rooting for him to keep sliding on that rail or to fall off it. I think I’ve come around to rooting for him but it’s a very dynamic and fluid situation.

Hawaii at Oregon State   11:00pm    FS1

Hawaii gets to play at their normal time for a game against the bottom of the barrel of the Pac-12 but they’re an 11-point underdog. If you’re ever going to take Hawaii, this is the stars lining up for you to do it. It’s still a big “if” but I’m saying there’s a chance.

[scribbleb-red]

Hello Ghost (An Afternoon Andreil AU)

After college, the Minyard-Hemmicks sell up in South Carolina and Andrew is signed by the Baltimore Bombers.

He buys a house on the outskirts of Leakin Park, it's pretty grand but he has a vision of inviting his family to stay, one day, perhaps.

The house is also more than a bit run down (which is why Andrew figures it was a good price). 

He starts to fix the place up. New paint. New floors. New windows. 

But then weird stuff starts happening. 

Food he was sure was in the fridge disappears. Stationary and paints will vanish from almost under his nose. Tools go missing only to reappear somewhere else. And clothes too (he is sure he brought his favourite black hoodie with him from SC, and Aaron swears he hasn't got it...). 

He starts to hear noises - not loud, just like shuffling, sliding, sometimes like a door is creaking open.

Andrew has nearly done the ground floor when he thinks he's found the answer - navy paint paw prints - all across his freshly stripped and varnished wood floor. 

He won't lie, they're kind of cute. The creature must have knocked over the feature-wall paint.

But then, one day after practice, he comes home and takes off his headphones and he's sure he can hear humming. Whatever animal the pawprints came from, he's sure most of them won't know Bohemian Rhapsody.

He creeps up the stairs, it's pretty tatty up here still. The only room he's really bothered is his own. There are rooms he's barely opened since he arrived - particularly the one that looks like it once belonged to a kid (the yellow clown wallpaper *has* to come down soon).

The humming is coming from the main bathroom. 

His hand hovers over the handle. 

He presses down. 

The door swings open. 

 He swears he sees a flash of red. Blue eyes in the mirror. 

But when he pushes inside, nothing and no one is there. 

"The actual fuck??" he mutters.

The actual fuck is right. 

Over the next few weeks Andrew becomes increasingly paranoid. Summer has bled into autumn and he is pretty sure he's being haunted. 

There is a ghost in this house. There is a ghost in these walls.

He talks to Aaron who just shrugs and tells him to call an exterminator if he has rats in the walls. Andrew is sure there aren't rats in the walls. That's not what he's hearing. Rats don't have nice tenor voices that hum Queen and Blue Oyster Cult through the piping. 

He talks to Nicky, who freaks out because omg Andrew you have to get out before the ghosts turn violent Andrew, you don't know what kind of ghost it is Andrew, what if you piss it off by accident Andrew. Maybe you can get an exorcist Andrew. Or salt? Isn't salt bad for ghosts?

He calls Kevin, who frowns down the line. 

"Are you okay, Minyard? Not getting rattled now you're in the pros?" 

No, Andrew is not rattled. He's doing fucking great for the Bombers. 

"Then get some sleep and... maybe call Bee?"

Great so Kevin thinks he's mad.

He calls the estate agent last. Though really he should have called them first.

"There's something wrong with this house," he says. "Tell me what's wrong with this house." 

"Oh dear." The estate agent is very anxious. "I'm so sorry, Mr Minyard. I thought everyone knew."

Turns out everyone except him did know. Andrew's grand house that he got for basically pennies was once the home of the Butcher of Baltimore. Andrew missed the memo though, too busy getting his brother clean and surviving the mood-meddling, court-prescribed drugs at the time.

"I'm so very sorry," says the estate agent. "I'm afraid there's nothing we can do now, but I do know a good geomancer who could feng shui the property for you." 

 Andrew slams down the phone. 

 So he has a ghost in his house. 

 Probably a murder ghost too. 

 Fuck.

He decides that if he's going to get rid of his ghost, he's going to have to figure out what exactly the ghost is taking, when and why. He starts keeping track in a little notebook. He quickly notices something even weirder than the missing stuff though.

The ghost takes food - not a huge amount - but enough each week. It's mostly fruit and vege, the occasional protein bar. If Andrew makes smoothies from fruit, the ghost will take some. And sometimes the ghost will make smoothies itself and leave half for Andrew.

The ghost launders any of the clothes it borrows. Not everything is returned. But socks will miraculously reappear. So will tshirts and sometimes jumpers. The black hoodie has not made a reappearance. But his woollen winter jumper does, with the elbow holes freshly darned.

The ghost showers. Andrew has noticed more than once that the bathroom mirror is misted and the towels damp when they shouldn't be.

The ghost leaves red hair behind, long curls of it.

The ghost is probably not a ghost. Or if they are, they're a very very corporeal one.

He decides maybe - just maybe - he could lure the ghost out. 

After a shower one day, he writes on the misted mirror:  HELLO GHOST. 

The next day, the ghost leaves a reply: HI HUMAN. 

 Andrew frowns and scrubs the note away.

He goes out to buy clothes for the ghost - no need for them to nick his favourite stuff if they have their own right? 

He leaves the bag in the bathroom and writes: THE BAG IS FOR YOU. 

The next day he sees: THANK U. 

The day after: CAN I HV A TOOTHBRUSH? 

Andrew buys one, even though the ghost writes like a fuckboi.

When he comes home from a long weekend of away matches, the toothbrush is used and wet. There's a Smiley on the mirror in the the mist. Andrew scowls. And he realises the ghost is near - because there's a shuffle, a sigh & for a second he's sure the shadows behind him move.

Andrew and the Ghost fall into a rhythm. 

Sometimes when the ghost needs something there will be a note on the bathroom mirror. Sometimes when the ghost is thankful, they'll leave homecooked left overs in the fridge for Andrew, presumably made when he's at practice.

Aaron asks him one day if he solved his rat problem. 

"It's a ghost problem,” Andrew tells him. “But yes, something like that."

For Christmas, Andrew goes to visit Nicky and Erik in Germany. 

It's three weeks away and he's so anxious about the flights, he forgets about his little ghost in the walls. 

He packs in a hurry. He turns off the lights. Turns down the heating. Locks the doors.

The holiday itself is good. Nicky is thriving now he's back with his boyfriend and Andrew almost feels bad that he kept Nicky from being this happy for so many years. Almost. Because he wouldn't trade those years with Nicky and Aaron for anything. 

He goes home, content.

As soon as he opens the front door, he knows something is wrong. 

It's freezing cold. So cold his breath is vapours on the air. 

There's a smell too, stale and fetid. Like old fruit. 

And that's when he sees him, the ghost.

The ghost is a boy, but he certainly looks half dead. 

He's sprawled on Andrew's new sofa. He's all bones. Emaciated to a point where he looks childish. His skin is sickly pale. His hair is dank and plastered to his forehead. His eyes are closed.

Andrew drops his bag and the ghost's eyes flutter open, just a slither before closing again. 

The ghost is sick. Incredibly sick.

Andrew calls Aaron. 

"My ghost is sick," is the first thing he says. "He has a fever. I don't know what's wrong with him." 

Aaron doesn't pretend to understand, he just lists off ways to bring down a fever. "I can be there in the morning," he tells Andrew. "Just --"

-- Aaron stops short. He can't tell Andrew to keep a ghost alive can he? 

Andrew does what he can. He lifts his ghost up into his arms, wrinkling his nose at the sweaty, sick smell rolling off him. He's far too light and far too small.

Andrew tucks him into his own bed.

He finds a can of fizzy lemonade and brings it upstairs to the ghost. He's barely stirred but as Andrew cracks open the can, the ghost lets out the tiniest of whimpers and it breaks Andrew's heart.

Carefully, he nudges the ghost awake and helps him to drink some of the lemonade. 

"Bring up his sugar levels. Make sure he has plenty of fluids. Anything cold to bring down his temperature." 

It takes nearly an hour for the ghost to drink the lemonade.

Andrew doesn't sleep that night. Doesn't stop applying cold flannels. Checks his temperature every 30 minutes. 

"You better not become a real ghost, Ghost," he warns the boy in his bed. "I want my fucking hoodie back."

Aaron arrives and it’s a good thing he's just finished his rotation in the ER because Andrew's ghost is a young man with one of the worst cases of pnuemonia he's seen in a while. He calls up a professor and explains why he needs a prescription for a variety of medications.

He's able to get them within the morning and they set Andrew's room up to be a hospital bed minus the bleepity-bloopety machines. 

Andrew finally sleeps when Aaron forces him to - but only for a couple hours before he's back at the ghost's side. 

Two days go by.

Ghost wakes up. 

For all that he looks like he hasn't eaten a full meal in his life, his eyes are the most striking Andrew has ever seen in his life. They are coldest blue, like a winter's sky. 

"Hello Ghost," Andrew says. 

"Hi Human," replies the ghost.

Ghost recovers slowly. He sleeps a lot. Andrew cooks for him. Makes him eat soups and broths and slowly reintroduces solids. 

Turns out when Andrew left, he'd locked Ghost inside with only enough food in the cupboards for a week. 

Ghost managed to make it last 12 days.

But with the heating off, Ghost had shivered his way into sickness. 

Andrew asks him how the hell he's been haunting his house when he's clearly not a ghost. Ghost frowns. 

"The walls," he says. "He built the walls too thick so they could hide escape routes." 

 "The Butcher?"

Ghost nods. He's so pale. Andrew presses because he knows there's a secret here and Ghost finally admits: "He was my father." 

The pieces fall into place as Ghost recovers. His name is actually Nathaniel but every time Andrew uses it, Ghost flinches.

Andrew moves Ghost out of the walls where he used to hide and into the house. 

"Why didn't you leave after your father died?" Andrew asks one day over hot chocolate and coffee. 

They're curled up on the sofa, their feet overlapping but nothing else.

"Because he didn't die," Ghost says. "He was killed." 

And out comes the story of how Ghost lived in the house as his father's prisoner. How he was trapped and how he was punished the few times he tried to escape. 

 There are scars, Andrew has seen them. They make sense now.

"My mother escaped though. With millions that belonged to my father. A couple years ago my father killed her... my uncle came in retribution. He killed my father. I was there."  Ghost's voice is thick and raw. His eyes won't meet Andrew's. "He said he'd come back for me."

"He never came back," Andrew fills in the next line. 

"No." 

"But you stayed." 

"I've barely been outside before. I never... I had rations stored and I figured, it was safe here at least, now he was gone." 

"And then I arrived." 

"Yeah. And it was kinda nice. Being your ghost."

Andrew chest feels warm and full. "You're still my ghost," he says after a minute. 

And it's true. This boy from the walls is going to haunt Andrew forever - and he doesn't even mind.

Andrew learnt to live in increments, one breath at a time, one minute, one hour, one day. He'll teach Ghost to do the same, over years. 

They'll find a human name for Ghost. They'll settle on "Neil", a name untainted by the father who hurt him or the mother who left him.

They'll cook together in the evenings, brushing against each other in whispers.

They'll fall asleep together on sofas and then, later, in their shared bed. 

They'll move house together one day, when Andrew transfers to another team. 

One day Andrew is lying in bed next to Neil, tracing patterns over freckled skin and taut muscles. 

"I meant to ask, what was with the pawprints that time? With the paint on the floor?" 

And Neil looks puzzled, then smiles. "Maybe it really was a ghost."

THE END 

[vtscasefiles]

Case File 563-7

Trigger warnings: blood, gore, death, infant death, guns, gun violence

[Editor’s note: this is one of VT’s shorter cases. It does not have a happy outcome. You have been warned.]

Case begun: 1/12/20**

Case concluded: 1/13/20**

Case locale: [REDACTED], Nevada

Marked as Closed

From the outset, this case stunk. Even Ramona had misgivings. She practically begged me not to go. “VT, there’s something wrong here. I don’t know what, but I just have this feeling.”

“It’ll be fine.” I’d assured her. “It’s a simple shakedown. It’s just a spirit. It’s nothing too insidious.”

Famous last words.

This case came to my from a friend of a friend. It was a simple haunting, the spirit was pestering a young family. Nothing a few sprinkles of blessed water and a liberal application of smudging couldn’t fix. Worst case, I’d have to exorcise.

Still, Ramona’s words bothered me, so I packed up a few extra goodies. Salt, my saint bone necklace (It’s only a toe bone, don’t ask where I got it.) and a few rounds of my most potent ammunition. I don’t want to say what it was made out of, due to the...questionable nature of how it was sourced. Point being that they’d deal with anything short of a god.

My friend, [REDACTED AT SUBJECT’S REQUEST], met me at the bus station. My car was out of commission, due to it being a piece of shit. Though [REDACTED] was more than happy to loan me their car.

I really wish I’d listened to Ramona.

I arrived at the client’s house around noon. They were a friendly enough couple. Due to ongoing SC investigation, I’m only going to refer to them as Husband and Wife. I could get in a lot of hot water if I put their names out there and someone fucked up the investigation.

Husband was tall-ish. Only a scant few inches taller than myself. He was your typical, hipster fella. Too tight pants, a band tee with a band he listened to “before it was cool” and a scruffy little beard with an overly manicured mustache. Wife was more my speed, though. Overalls, splattered with paint and a tank top. We love a handy lady.

They welcomed me graciously, introduced me to their newborn, who shall be known as Baby. She was a cute, little thing...even I could admit that and I hate babies. They scream, puke and shit, usually at the same time. Not for me, nope. Even so, I held the kid at their insistence and the girl just...stared. I couldn’t help but pull faces until the child started to laugh.

So, maybe “hate” is a strong word.

They took me to the room where their little spirit friend was causing the most havoc. It was to be Baby’s room. A crib settled in a corner, toys strewn around for the child’s amusement. A light fixture shaped like a unicorn.

Oh, and let’s not forget the words “HELP ME” painted on the wall in bright, yellow paint. Perfect décor for an infant, right?

“So, Husband.”, I’d said, turning to face him, Baby still in my arms. “We going for an escape pre-school motif or something?” he laughed a strained laugh.

“We didn’t have this problem when we moved in.” he said, rubbing at his eyes beneath the glasses that I don’t think he actually needed. “After Baby was born everything sort of...escalated.” he shuffled his feet and frowned. “We don’t want to move. We put a lot of work into our home, VT.”

“Well.” I said, foisting Baby off into Wife’s arms. “It might be a wandering spirit...might even be a kid. They tend to gravitate towards new parents, in hopes someone can help them. I’ll come back tonight to see if we can’t contact the spirit and figure out what’s going on.”

“Tonight might be...problematic. We have a little ceremony planned for Baby.” she said, smiling and dimpling in the *cutest* way. “All the neighbors will be there!”

You see where this is going now, right? Fuck, I wish I had.

“I mean, so long as it isn’t in this house. Large gatherings might upset the spirit.” I said, softly. Baby was already dozing in her mother’s arms. “If it has to be here, I can always come afterwards.”

They agreed and [REDACTED] had me drive them home before I took the car to their motel. I was scheduled for another walkthrough around ten, tonight. That gave me time to shower, check my gear, take a nap and check my gear, again.

Then it all went to hell.

It’s no secret that most PEs are riddled with ink. I’m no different, but all of mine are on my back and upper arms. It took time to learn which portion of my skin would react to whatever was in the air. 

The dead center of my back, right on top of the upper portion of my spine, lit up like fire. Usually, it’s a small, specific spot, but it felt like there were three or four of the small, inked runes lighting up at once. 

Necromancy.

Blood magic.

Demonic presence.

Those are the big three tattoos. If one of those goes off, I know I need back up. If all three go off...run. Just run. Necromancy in of itself isn’t a strictly forbidden art in the SC, but blood magic is. Demons, on the other hand...well, they’re just like other members of the SC. Some are good, some are bad and some...some need a hot lead injection right between the eyes.

That tattoo only lit up in the presence of a demon with evil on the mind. Feeling the pain in my back, my fight or flight responses kicked in. I strapped Peace to my thigh, shouldered my bag and made for [REDACTED]’s car.

I made it to the house at 9pm, a full hour before I was due. Cars were lined up down the block, so I just parked in a vacant driveway. I could apologize later. My phone jingled it’s clarion call and I answered immediately. I always answer Ramona as quickly as I can. “VT!” she was practically in the midst of a panic attack. “I was scrying and I had to call. VT, you need to come home now. Whatever case you’re on, drop it.”

“There’s a kid in there, Ramona.” I protested, eyes on the lit up windows of Husband and Wife’s home. “I can’t walk away.”

“VT, you don’t even like kids. And honestly...all I saw was blood. I hate to say it VT, but that child is probably -- “ “I know!” I shouted, the burning in my back getting all the more intense. “I know. Look, I know I don’t like kids, but that doesn’t mean I want to let one die. If there’s anything I can do, I have to do it.”

Ramona went silent, and I waited. “...I’ll pray to the spirits for your protection, VT. Come back to me alive, okay?”

“You got it.” I responded, my finger making for the screen to terminate the call. “Bye, Ramona.”

“Wait!”, her sudden shout stilled my hand. “Give ‘em hell.” I smiled and terminated the call.

The time for subterfuge and lockpicking had passed. I emptied a box of Elinor’s “special blend” into my pocket and checked Peace’s cylinder. Everything looked ready.

I bolted for the door and hammered on it. No answer. No sound beyond the door. I kicked, just next to the deadbolt and only got a wonderful jolting sensation that sent me limping and cursing in a circle. 

I wasted no time in stepping back to the street and running, full tilt, for the nearest window and diving straight through. I felt the glass slice open my arm as I covered my head for protection. 

I rolled across the carpet as I landed and came up with Peace in hand. Nothing. No one. The house was completely empty.

All of these houses were built the same, so it was a fair guess this place had both and attic and a basement. My leg still smarted, so the thought of climbing stairs up didn’t appeal, so I resolved to check the basement.

It’s always fucking basements.

The door was easy enough to find, right beneath the stairway to the second floor. It was locked, so with some creative ingenuity, I had it open.

[Editor’s note: Creative ingenuity means VT shot the lock off.]

The instant that door swung open it felt like someone had pressed a branding iron to my back. I ignored the pain and sprinted down the stairs, slamming into a wall as I reached the bottom.

The metallic scent of blood hit me with all the force of a sledgehammer to the nose. Corpses. Corpses everywhere. All in various stages of decomposition. I recognized Husband and Wife, not by their clothes, or faces...but by their hair. Wife’s golden mane of unruly curls and Husband’s stupid little manbun. (Why don’t they just call them buns for fuck’s sake?)

Every corpse in here wore the same robes, bore the same jewelry. I recognized the design. They worshiped Death. Not Elinor’s Death, the supposedly nice lady with the kid. They worshipped violent Death. 

They worshiped murder.

I fought valiantly to keep my dinner in as I saw what they’d had on the altar in the center of the room. I lost.

I couldn’t bring myself to unwrap the bundle that had no less than thirteen or fourteen daggers sticking out of it. The amount of blood on the altar told me, if the daggers didn’t, that they’d finished their sick little ceremony.

Baby was the sacrifice.

Human sacrifice has been a thing since the dawn of time. So has child sacrifice. It’s become taboo in the SC, due to the fact that pure innocence is a force so powerful that it often rages out of control. 

Doesn’t stop a few fuckwits from using it and dying for their trouble. I felt no sympathy, in fact I’d dearly hoped their deaths were slow.

“Do you want to kill them?” a voice, so sweet in my ear, practically lulled me straight to sleep. “See them suffer? I can make that happen. I can make every sick fuck out there pay for the wrongs they do.” it was my voice I was hearing. “We can slaughter them all. Val, we can -- “ That snapped me out of my daze. “Only my mother calls me Val.” I said, squeezing Peace’s grip. “And I hate that bitch.”

I turned and saw who’d been whispering. It was a mirror image of myself, albeit a perverted one. My features were too fine, too distinct. It was like someone took my face and stretched it over my bones. It smiled in a way that if I ever say that expression on my own face, I’d lay down on some train tracks and wait.

“What? You don’t want to make them suffer? They killed an infant, and for what? Power? To summon something they shouldn’t? C’mon, VT, we both know better.” the mirror me scoffed and threw up her hands. “You do this job because you like the blood.”

“Not really.” I said, conversationally. I knew what this was, this was what they’d summoned. After killing it’s summoners it still wanted more. There was only one way to deal with something as malevolent as this. Deprive it of power. “I do this job because it pays the bills and I was born into it. Plus, I just so happen to be very good at what I do.”

“Murdering living things? Banishing non-living things?” it asked, grinning.

“No. Dealing with trash like you that only exists to hurt others.” I smiled right back. “So, I suppose you could call me a glorified garbage woman.”

That pissed it off. It’s face warped into an unholy mask of fury and it lunged. When a demon takes on a form, it’s trapped with that form’s physical ability. The demon was just as strong as I was, with none of the training. Meaning it’d be dangerous, but manageable. 

It grabbed onto me and we both tumbled to the floor. Peace skittered away from my grip as the demon slammed it’s fists into my face. I felt my nose break and my lip split beneath the melee onslaught. It seemed to notice the gun and lunged off of me to make a wild grab.

I took my chance. The instant it’s weight left me, I made a wild grab for it’s hair and yanked. It screeched it’s rage and continued to paw for the gun as I mounted it’s shoulders and slammed it’s face into the concrete floor again and again and again. I couldn’t kill it, not with my bare hands. The more effort I wasted on the demon, the stronger it’d get. I shoved to my feet and aimed a hard kick to it’s ribs, leaning down to grab my gun. The demon was already on it’s feet, thick, black blood oozing across my distorted features. “Yes...yes...fight. Struggle. Feed me.”

“Nah.” I said, wiping my bloody, broken nose on my sleeve. “It’s garbage day, bitch.” I pointed Peace dead at the demon’s head and fired. My ears rung with Peace’s gunfire scream. The demon’s head was decimated and it’s true form started oozing out. A thick, gray mist that hung in the air and screamed. I couldn’t very well shoot that.

A demon can’t be killed. Some make physical forms for themselves, examples being incubi or succubi. Some take on forms of those they find aesthetically pleasing. Some take on the forms of their victims...but when the body dies, their true self escapes. The dingier looking the cloud, the more evil the demon.

And this bitch looked like pollution. 

I made for the stairs, determined not to let the demon try and slide it’s way into me. Possession is tricky enough to deal with, I didn’t want to cause another PE more trouble than they already had.

The second I topped the stairs I realized I’d made a mistake. Someone was already waiting.

And she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her skin was olive in coloring and flawless. Her hair hung about her like a veil made of pure shadow. Her eyes glowed an unearthly green, devoid of pupil. I barely even noticed that she was wearing a billowing robe that seemed to want to suck me in.

“Run.” I panted, trying to push past her to no avail. “Demon. Very angry demon.”

She smiled, softly and nodded “I know. Please, stand aside, VT.”

VT? She knew my name?

She brushed by me, leaving my skin like ice. I couldn’t move, speak or think. I don’t know how long I was standing there, staring into space. A horrifying screech pulled me from my hypnotic trance and sent me barreling down the stairs. The demon was trying to cling to the pipes that ran along the ceiling of the basement.

The woman was inhaling it. “Stop!” I shouted, grabbing her shoulder “It’s going to kill you!” she paid no attention, continuing her upsettingly long inhale. “Stop!” I shook her, but too late. The last of the demon had just vanished past her full, stupidly kissable lips. 

Fuck.

She coughed, swallowed and smacked her lips. “Unpleasant.” she said, rubbing her throat. “But slightly tangy.” she smiled and looked to me. “You’re covered in blood, will you be alright?”

I wiped the blood from my face and nodded. “Yeah, nothing serious. What...are you?”

The woman laughed and I felt my stomach drop. “Oh, silly, little girl...you know already, don’t you?”

That’s the first time in my life that being called a silly, little girl was a turn on. “No.” I whispered, softly. “I have no fucking idea.”

She laughed again and approached the bundle. One by one she pulled the daggers free. I take no shame in saying that I looked away. I just wanted to go home, at this point. When I was finally able to look back at the woman she held a baby in her arms. No. Not a baby. The Baby.

The bundle was still slack and bloody on the alter, but Baby was sleeping peacefully in this woman’s arms. Either I’d gone crazy or --  “Its her soul.” the woman said, conversationally. “It had been locked up in here as bait for the demon.” she caressed the infant’s cheek with a finger.

“No!” Husband’s voice sounded off like a gunshot. “No, you can’t do this to us! We command you.”

The room was packed. The robed figures were all standing atop their corpses, slowly approaching the woman still toying with the sleeping infant. Wife spoke next “She was our ticket to immortality! To godhood! You can’t stop us! We own you, now!” they weren’t paying any attention to me...and the woman wasn’t paying any attention to them.

A voice I didn’t recognize rang out “Kneel before your masters!”

That brought the woman from her trance. She didn’t look angry, only mildly annoyed. “Kneel? Own? Command?” she asked, frowning. “No one commands me, fools. I cannot be contained. I am not some dog on a leash.” she snapped her fingers and the spirits all dissipated with a clarion scream. “This is tiring.” she said, shaking her head. “It’s my granddaughters’ birthday party today, can I not get one hour’s peace?” 

“Who are you?” I asked, taking a step forward. “What are you?”

The annoyance fled her face and she smiled, sweetly. “I said you already know.”

The entire world dropped from beneath my feet. Primal fear exploded through my being as every atom of my being screamed at me to run. Run and never look back. “Death.”, I whispered, causing the woman to laugh. “Elinor’s Death.”

“I am everyone’s Death, child...but you may call me Isali.” she smiled. It was a smile only a mother could possess. “My...husband gave me that name. Isn’t it so strange. You exist for so very long by one name...and someone gives you another. One that you love with all of your being.” her eyes met mine “You know that well, don’t you...VT?”

VT. Ramona had given me that name and I’d latched onto it with all my might. “Yes.” I whispered, nodding slowly. “I do.”

“Do tell dearest Elinor I send my regards.” she said, enveloping Baby in her robes. “Oh, the corpses here have your payment for this job. You may empty their pockets, if you wish. I believe it shall more than cover your expenses.”

“Isn’t that...disrespectful?” I asked, feeling squeamish at the thought of looting corpses.

“Are you implying they are deserving of respect?” Isali asked, an elegant eyebrow raising. That was a fair point. I immediately started to rifle though the corpse’s belongings. She watched me, carefully as I did. “I must go. My granddaughters will be ever so upset if Grammy isn’t in attendance. VT, we will meet again.”

“Wait.” I said, pushing to my feet, still waring with that primal desire to bolt. “Elinor...Elinor said you have a son? How?”

She laughed, brightly and shook her head. “Love, child. Love.” she looked thoughtful for a moment then turned her back to me. “Come with me.” she took a step forward...and I followed.

The world went topsy-turvy, and my brain felt like a block of ice in my skull. When my feet stopped moving I was at Ramona’s bedside. Alone. I didn’t know how much time had passed, or if any had passed...but Death -- Isali, she knew what I wanted more than anything in the world at that moment. And gave it to me.

I pulled back the sheets to Ramona’s bed and crawled in next to her, snuggling up to her back and trembling. Even in her sleep, Ramona’s a caregiver. She rolled and threw an arm over me, squeezing me close. Come morning, she raised hell for my staining her sheets with my blood. Isali was never mentioned.

Case closed

[i-heart-danchou]

Ache

The sun is bright and shining, and Levi aches.  He tells himself his body is worn out from the excursion, and slowly he puts himself together for the day.  It hurts, still, to think of that empty chair in the great hall.  Erwin hasn’t been forgotten yet, and that helps keep Levi standing.  

The report comes out, and Levi prepares himself for the onslaught of anger directed at him.  He doesn’t expect them to understand, yet as he sees Roy’s hands quiver around his teacup, he knows that he made the right choice.  

This world is fucking hell.  

He is a blank canvas as he walks in the street.  His face feels numb, his blood feels cold, and all around him are whispers and cruelty.  The mission to retake Wall Maria is all anyone can talk about, and Erwin Erwin Erwin is dancing on their lips.

A great man made a great sacrifice, it’s all thanks to him we’ve come this far. His most trusted subordinate was so foolish— how could he choose that child over the commander?  Such a lapse in judgement, such a tragedy.  Erwin was smart, right?  And yet he couldn’t see the wicked selfish heart in Levi’s chest.  How sad, how sad, how sad.  Levi has doomed humanity.

Words like traitor are thrown around, people questioning Levi’s loyalty, his sanity, his intelligence.  Levi had sworn to kill Erwin after all, that thug, that monster, Erwin was an idiot for believing in him.    

**

Floch’s tirade is unwelcome and unsurprising.  Levi stands alone in shadow, his fists clenched and his heart aching.  He knows. He knows Erwin was the best choice for humanity, for Levi, for everyone.  

But it was not the best choice for Erwin.  

Erwin’s smile comes to the front of his mind, and Levi’s soul clenches.  He thinks of his empty bed, the empty chair, the hole in his heart that will never be filled.  Levi resents the world for spinning, the sun for rising, life for marching onward when Erwin Smith was dead.  

Armin’s small voice is of small comfort; even he knows he should not be alive right now.  And still, even now, even after watching Erwin bleed to death, Eren stands his ground.  They are children, Levi reminds himself, they do not understand.  

No one understands.

Levi pretends he hadn’t heard them as he informs the last survivors of the survey corps they are to receive their rewards.  

Levi’s mind is blank as Historia places the bolo tie over his head.  It’s wrong.  This is Erwin’s tie, Erwin’s honor, the weight of the stone feels foreign around his neck.  He screws his eyes shut and kisses the hand of the queen.  Levi doesn’t kneel to anyone but Erwin, but he’s exhausted and miserable and he can’t conjure the energy to protest.  This is, in effect, Erwin’s funeral.  It’s not about Levi, and he won’t complain no matter how disgusting it all feels.  

Erwin is dead, and in his weakest moments, Levi blames himself.  It was the right thing for Erwin, he knows that in his heart, but… it doesn’t always make it easier to bear.  Erwin is dead.  Erwin is dead.  Erwin is dead and Levi will spend the rest of his life alone. He will rip that stone off his neck as soon as he has some privacy, and never look at it again.  It is the tangible medal of his betrayal, a heavy reminder of the price Erwin paid.  It makes him sick, and he cannot bear it.

**

Winter comes and goes, and Levi takes it upon himself to retrieve Erwin’s bones from that house in Shiganshina.  He isn’t sure what to expect; a rotting corpse maybe, or flesh torn apart by rats and birds… there is part of him that wonders if he will be unchanged, his gleaming golden hair, his beautiful face.  Perhaps he’ll look peaceful, perhaps he’ll stretch his arm out and sit up, chiding Levi for taking so long to find him.

The air in the room is stale and dank, and Erwin’s body lies undisturbed where Levi left it.  There is an odor, but Levi ignores it out of respect.  It’s not Erwin’s fault he died, it’s not his fault that he had rotted away.  He suspects Erwin would apologize for the smell if he could.  

Levi pulls the cloak away from Erwin’s face and his stomach drops.  Levi has seen death before, he has seen skulls before, but he has never, ever ached like this over a body before.  Erwin’s flesh and skin is gone, his hair largely missing, his eyes shrivelled and eaten by time.  ‘You’ll never see his face again’ his mind chirps at him.  ‘This is all that’s left.  These white bones and your memories.’

Time creeps on, and it’s harder and harder to remember Erwin’s face.  Levi tries to conjure it now, but the toothy smile of the skull before him replaces the heartfelt warmth he associates with Erwin.  Hollow sockets instead of sparkling eyes, stale decay instead of cologne and tea and ink.  It hurts, and he picks up Erwin’s bones one at a time.

“I’ll get you home.”  He says to no one.  “You did so well.”  

There are parts of his ribs missing, and the bone of his right arm is splintered and rough.  It must have hurt, Levi thinks.  Every day it must have hurt.  

It’s sickening how Erwin fits in a small sack now.  Such a powerful imposing man, reduced to hollow bones which knock together in the bag on Levi’s shoulder.  

He’s taken to pretending Erwin is with him sometimes, and he finds it makes things easier.  

Thank you Levi.  Erwin says in his mind.  I missed you.  I was lonely here.  I’m glad I’m going home.

It’s empty and pointless but it keeps Levi standing.  “I know.  I’m sorry it took so long.”

You did your best, Levi.  You always do your best and I’m so proud of you.  I don’t blame you, I never blamed you.

The Erwin in his mind says what Levi wants to hear, and Levi pretends that it doesn’t bother him.  Erwin clacks around in the bag and Levi ignores the noise.  He owes Erwin this much, at least.

**

The ceremony for Erwin is beautiful and dignified.  Many people speak about their memories of him, how good and honorable he was, how bravely he fought.

Hanji speaks.  Armin speaks.  Nile speaks.

Everyone looks at Levi and he says nothing.  He’s never been one for nostalgia and lingering, and he doesn’t want to give anyone fodder to use against Erwin.  

Levi can’t win, really.  If he speaks, they’ll blame him for letting Erwin die, how dare he, how can he give a eulogy when he pulled the trigger?  A monster, a monster, a devil.  If he doesn’t speak, they are vindicated.  He never cared for Erwin, he thought Armin was more pure, less damaged, such an idiot to think Armin will save us.  Poor Erwin, poor Erwin.  He should have lived.  He could have saved us.  

His eyelids are heavy and Levi bears it.  The stares, the whispers, the judgement.  

They won’t understand, Levi.  It’s not your fault.  I know why you did what you did, and I thank you for it.  You don’t owe them anything.

In his mind, Erwin is smiling… his hand is on Levi’s shoulder, he’s squeezing lightly and he has both arms now.  For a moment all is gentle and calm in Levi’s mind, but that never lasts very long.  Erwin’s face melts away to bones and ash, and those warm fingers turn to claws and dig in Levi’s flesh.

You killed me.  You wonder if you were right, Levi.  You wonder if I wanted this.  To watch, muted, while the world goes to war.  Were you right, Levi?  Were you right?

‘No,’ he thinks, ‘Erwin would never harm me,’ and the monster in his mind laughs.  

Yet you killed him.  I bet he thought the same about you.

**

They march towards that stupid fucking ocean.  Erwin had dreamed of a future like this, free from titans and danger, where man could explore and expand to his heart’s content.  It’s a beautiful thing to be so free, and he imagines Erwin beside him.

His eyes would be sparkling as they got closer and closer, that boyish excitement that he struggled to rein in exuding from his face.  The wind in his hair feels great, the weather is perfect, and he’s smiling.  Isn’t it brilliant, Levi?  I always wanted to see how far we could go.

The space beside Levi is empty, and he stares straight ahead.  The air smells different, and he’s been in the SC too long to let his guard down now.  

Before them is the most vast expanse of water Levi has ever seen.  It glimmers in the sun and it reminds Levi of Erwin’s eyes.  

There is joy in the air, and the remnants of the SC frolic in the sea like a bunch of damn children.  Levi stands away, apart, not wanting to allow himself this moment of happiness.  Erwin would have loved this, and he does not want what Erwin can’t have.  

It’s beautiful, isn’t it?  You should go swim, Levi.  I’ll watch.

Levi shakes his head.  “It’s disgusting.  Fish fuck in it.”

Erwin laughs and the sound is like coming home.  He aches when he hears it— or imagines he hears it, and prays this nightmare will end.  

Erwin should be here.  He should have his pants rolled up to his knees, he should squeak when the waves hit his skin, he should be losing his balance and falling on his ass in the water.  Levi would roll his eyes and offer him a hand up, and maybe Erwin would pull him in too, because he’s delighted and alive and it’s fun to be here.  Levi would pretend to be angry, and Erwin would see through him.  Maybe later they’d fuck, and he’d stare up at Erwin after, eyes wide, watching him delight in the mysteries of the universe.  

He should have been here.  Levi is alone and it hurts.  

It’s Eren, strangely, who grounds him once more.  He listens disinterestedly as the boy postulates on the benefits of murdering everyone across the ocean.  He sees the pain in Armin’s eyes, he watches as no one— not Hanji, not Mikasa, not Armin, step forward to question him.  

He imagines Erwin as a titan.  A monster in the eyes of humanity, forced to chase after this child and his raging vengeful whims.  Perhaps his eyes would be weary, his shoulders slumped, his mind worn and damaged from all the pain he’s witnessed.  Erwin would be strong, and he would fight, because that is who Erwin was.  But he would suffer, and he would lose himself, and ultimately he would die conflicted and isolated.  

A bird screams in the distance, and Levi kicks some of the sand with his toe.  ‘I did the right thing,’ he tells himself.  ‘Erwin is resting, he’s peaceful, he doesn’t have to fight anymore.’

The sun is dazzling and warm, and the world keeps spinning.  For the rest of his life, Levi will try to convince himself of that one simple truth.  It’s not easy, and it hurts, but it was the right thing to do.  

In his mind, Erwin is smiling.  

[bbwithaknife]

Undertow (Rick Sanchez Fanfic)

Chapter 1

Words: 1,446

Mornings are routine.

Mornings are begrudgingly getting out of bed to brush your teeth with toothpaste from the 99 cent store, to brush the knots and tangled mess out of your hair to look somewhat presentable, to put on the same shirt from two days ago because you were too tired to do laundry this week, to drive in your 2009 Pontiac G5 that was wearing tires that should have been replaced two fucking years ago, to grab an overpriced and watered down "latte" in a drive through that wasn't quick enough, to park in that same parking spot that your boss with the last name Vagina gave you, to teach horny, smelly, and most of the time ungrateful teens that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.

But this morning was not routine. This morning was a disaster.

At first I thought he was dead. His chest didn't seem to move and his skin was so tight around his ribs I thought his whole body was about to tear open. His pale blue hair a mess and drool pouring out of his thin lips. My bedroom was a mess, with clothing thrown everywhere . . . even a lab coat. I reached out to check for a pulse, stretching over about to press two fingers against his neck when he just about rolled right off the bed. At least he was alive.

The events leading up to sleeping with what could just be someone's Grandfather were those that occurred out of self loathing and boredom. Things were not going as planned. Another thing that seemed to be out of my control was getting this geezer out of here. He was out cold . . . and I had less than ten minutes to get to work.

Fuck. I could either let this total stranger let himself out and pray he doesn't steal anything or miss my job and risk losing my position. To be honest with the way my life was going, I don't know what's worse.

Well, what do I have to lose anyway if I let him be? My dignity? I lost that a long time ago by becoming a teacher. Besides, the only thing valuable in my shit hole is a half bottle of vodka and a couple dollar bills.

Throwing on yesterdays pants, Mondays shirt, and some smelly perfume I was gone.

"Please don't be here when I get back."  I sighed and locked the front door.

˜

The hang over wasn't too bad but I could still feel heaviness in my head. The bell had just rung and the decent students rolled in on time and those who could care less followed in a few minutes late or just didn't bother to show up. Throwing my belongings beside my desk and flipping on the computer was the signal of another long and brooding day.

With each lecture I knew I was talking out of my ass. I used to have passion about teaching and science but now it was just the same thing over and over. It was in one ear and out the other with most of them. I wanted to shape young minds and change the world but instead I'm talking about the periodic table of elements as teens pick their nose and text each other lewd messages. I was so naive, thinking a teacher could make a difference. A month into working at Harry Herpson High School it proved that every teaching job was bound to be the same.

First period faded into last and the bell for the students to go home was like icing on the cake for everyone here. Packing up my papers, there was a knock at my door.

"U-uh Ms. Vinton?" It was Morty Smith. Morty was an interesting kid. He wasn't here a lot, and he wasn't the brightest either. But he appeared to mean well. When he wasn't pining after another student, he wasn't really doing anything wrong either. He was just another sophomore.

"Hey, Morty. Come in." I waved him in, still packing away papers into my briefcase.

"S-so I f-failed my exam, huh?" he squeaked, with a bit of disappointment in his voice.

I took in a deep breath. "Yeah . . . that kind of happens when you don't show up for it."

Morty looked down at his shoes. "A-aw geez. My parents are gonna kill me."

I felt bad for the kid. I was in school once too . . . I know it's not exactly easy.

I turned off the computer monitor and looked to him. "I can talk to Vagina about another rewrite, but Morty you really have to step up your game here. You're a decent kid . . . you just need to apply yourself or some . . . bull crap. You can't keep skipping class and ditching out on assignments and tests. At the end of the day, it falls on you to be responsible for your actions. Even if that means summer school."

"T-thanks M-Ms. Vinton. It's j-just my Grandpa . . . y'know?"

"Is he sick? Is that why you haven't been here lately?"

"N-no it's just . . . I'm like his a-apprentice or something. I t-thought you met him. H-he's always dragging me a-away from e-everything . . . he was here yesterday? H-he's a little hard to miss." Morty said, adjusting his backpack and making his way to the door.

I let out small laugh and tapped my head. "Well, Morty if you haven't noticed I'm not always checked in here."

He smiled. "Y-yeah but y-you're the most tolerable. T-that's better than nothing."

"Thanks Morty" I smiled. We both walked out and I locked my classroom door. "Be here tomorrow, I'll let you know what the deal is for the re-write." I adjusted to my briefcase, which was full of at least a week's worth of grading to do. Morty nodded and left in the other direction as I made my way to the parking lot. Another day another dollar.

˜

Fumbling with my keys in one hand and briefcase in the other because I was too stubborn and didn't want to take another trip to my car I finally escaped the outdoor air and was greeted with the stale smell of my house. I need to get rid of this gross carpet.

The clash of my keys falling into the bowl by the door was enough to echo through the empty house. I wasn't one for trinkets, really. I had a small vase of flowers and a couple art pieces on the wall that I bought at some garage sale. It was just me, myself, and I.

I heard a loud belch.

And in return I screamed and dropped every single paper I needed to grade. It was snowing pop quiz's. I still had company.

"Oh h-heURP-ey." It was him. He was dressed . . . if you could call it that. Blue shirt, brown pants, and lab coat. I'm sure Giorgio Armani would love this look.

"Why are you still here!?" I screamed, clutching at my chest. My heart was pounding like a drum.

"Uh, you lo-locked the d-urp- door?"

"It was a latch! It's a latch lock! You can't unlatch a latch lock?!"

"Th-that sounds like a tongue twister . . . but-but with th-that- with that fuck- fucking tongue of yours I'm-uRRp- n-not- I knew you could handle it." He had devilish grin on his face. I knew exactly what he was thinking.

He began to walk towards me, until my back was pressed against the door. There was a flutter in my stomach. For Christ's sake, I have to stand my ground.

"Well, you can go! Like, right now!" I told him firmly, jabbing a finger into the middle of his hollowed chest.  He lifted my chin up, forcing me to make eye contact. "You- you really wa- want me to go, Ana?" his voice played around with my emotions. Last night's events began to come back to me in flashes.

"No" was all I managed to say as he lifted me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. For someone so thin and  . . . so old . . . he was incredibly strong. He started to kiss at my neck.

"I don't even remember your name."

The laugh that escaped his lips tickled at my neck, causing me to grip onto to him even tighter.

"I f-find that fuck-fucking hard to believe, considering how many times y-you sc-urPP-screamed it last night. " He pulled away and looked at me with a growing smile. I started blankly.

"It's Rick, b-baby."

He kissed me hard.

“Also I d-drank your vodka.” 

[sarahcassellsuniverse-blog]

Once Upon a Time..

Ari fluffed her flaming red hair into a bouffant and smoothed down the stray hairs that were determined to escape. She drew a fat bristle brush carefully along her halo of fire, her tongue poking out and resting on her lips with the intensity of her concentration.

The brush hovered in the air beneath her last split end as she drew it slowly away, careful not to make any sudden movement. She held her head stiffly as she placed the brush down on her white dressing table before her long pale fingers slipped gently around a can of hairspray. She lifted the bottle and sprayed liberally until the ticking black hand had circled twice around her clock.

With a satisfied sigh she shook the now empty bottle and threw it aside, where it clattered into a wastebin full of similar cans.

She fluffed her hair again and winked at her reflection, admiring her long dark lashes. She frowned and peered closely at the new extensions, wondering if they could have grown out in the last week. She would have to book another appointment. She couldn't possibly wait the recommended four weeks.

She pouted her perfectly shaped lips, tilting her head. She felt a stab of envy, thinking about Rose's lips. They had all warned her that the operation could go wrong, but she hadn't cared. She had booked in to see the surgeon and a week later they were done. Ari couldn't help but feel disappointed; they had turned out perfectly, beautiful even. Now she felt so inadequate. Stupid bitch, she thought. Maybe next time they would go wrong.

Ari flicked her hair back and hoisted her bra up, ensuring the creamy curve of her breasts was visible. Her short green dress sparkled like fish scales, and clung to her lean body.

Her diamond encrusted mobile rang, vibrating on the table. She flipped it open and placed it to her ear, still pouting in the mirror.

“Yello.”

“Where are you? Are you coming?” came the concerned voice of her friend Belle.

Ari sighed. Belle was a worrier. Always had been.

“I'm on my way,” said Ari, rubbing some more rouge lipstick over her lips.

“By that do you mean you're still in front of the mirror?” asked Belle.

Ari's pride prickled but she knew the truth when she heard it. She took a deep breath and finished powdering her face.

“I'll be there soon Belle, chill out. You're always too early.”

Belle was silent for a few moments.

“You're forty-five minutes late Ari,” she said quietly. “And nobody else except Alice is here.”

Ari sighed exasperatedly.

“I'm leaving now alright?”

There was silence.

“Ok Belle?”

“Alright,” said Belle, after a few moments. “Don't be too long. I need to talk to..just get here soon.”

Ari clicked her phone shut and sighed, slipping it into her bag. She glanced at her husband, whose fat body was sprawled across their bed. Great snores came out of his drunken mouth, much louder than the roars that had once come from Belle's husband. She wondered how their paths had twisted. Belle had suffered excruciatingly attempting to tame her man, but had been rewarded with a humble, kind and loving husband for the rest of her life. Ari had sacrificed everything to gain her husband's love, and now...well, she still had her looks.

She shoved the empty bottles of whiskey out of her way with her pointed high heeled shoe, avoiding the many carpet stains. There was no point in fixing up the dingy flat. Ari's love of beauty and her husband's alcoholic tendencies had put paid to that.

Ari hailed a taxi and climbed in, Chanel wafting after her. She crossed her perfect legs and gave the destination to the driver. Her phone bleeped with notifications. She pulled it out and scrolled through Instagram.

She grimaced at Rose's post. Her lips took up most of her selfie. She had a pink bralet and skirt on, her bleach blonde hair coiffed and curled.

Another notification. Snapchat. Ari opened the picture, and was greeted with a selfie of Cindy and Snow, who were in the back of a taxi. Snow's eyes were glazed, a sneaky bottle of vodka sticking out of her bag. Cindy was pulling a duckface, her hands shoving her chest up.

“BFFs. Get ready boys,” the text across the snapchat read.

Ari scoffed and clicked the phone shut. Guess Cindy still didn't know her boyfriend was coming in Snow's mouth every Thursday after work.

Throbbing music pumped louder as Ari's taxi drew up beside the club. She paid the driver and stepped out, her long legs appearing before she did.

A few wolf whistles came her way, and she glanced proudly down at her legs. They were her pride and joy, her ultimate prize for the price she had paid all those years ago. This was the true reward. Certainly her 'prince' hadn't been worth his salt.

She navigated her way through the tightly packed crowd, feeling hands on her arse more than once.

“Ari!” cried a familiar voice.

Ari glanced towards the bar, where Jaz was stood waving. Her short red dress sparkled under the lights, her shining Arabian hair halfway down her back.

Ari made her way over and grasped her in a hug. Jaz' beautiful almond eyes were framed with black and she smiled widely.

“You look gorgeous!” Jaz cried, whipping out her phone. “Selfie?”

Ari posed for the camera, as Jaz stuck her chest out. The flash blinded Ari. She watched Jaz scrutinize the photo, before clicking upload.

“Nice,” she said, nodding approvingly.

“Where are the others?” Ari asked, her eyes sweeping the room.

“Over there,” Jaz pointed. “In the corner. But you won't spend too long there. Alice is being a right bore. I don't know why she bothers coming out. It's not like any of the men come and talk to us while she's there. Unless they're paedophiles,” she said nastily, laughing loudly.

Ari couldn't bring herself to laugh and made do with a grimace. She tapped her on the arm and made her way over to the others.

Snow and Cindy had arrived just before her. Snow winked at her.

“Where's Cindy?” asked Ari, as Belle stood up to greet her. She looked classy in a little yellow dress, her brunette waves falling softly over her shoulders.

“Gone out for a cig I think,” said Snow, downing another shot. “You look good,” she said, insincerity in every tone of her voice.

Ari caught little Alice gazing at her with an expression of pure envy. She quickly averted her eyes when she saw Ari had noticed.

“Ok Alice?” Ari asked.

Alice nodded and forced a smile. Her skin was drawn, pale and tight over her prominent cheekbones. She looked like she hadn't slept for weeks.

“Hey bitches,” cooed the soft sultry voice of Rose. There was a collective gasp that got lost under the music, but Ari knew they were all thinking the same thing.

Rose was so thin! Her waist was miniscule, especially under her silicone filled double F cups. Her hip bones jutted out under her skirt, and her belly was concave. But what upset Ari the most were Rose's legs. There was no fat, no muscle, just beautiful stick thin legs. Ari's arm was bigger than both of her friend's legs. She stifled her tears and forced a smile.

“Wow,” she said, “You look amazing.”

Rose twirled. “Thanks,” she said. “I've been working hard.”

“What do you do to get like that Rose?” asked Snow, leaning over for tips. A huge grin appeared on Rose's face and she flopped down beside her, immediately launching into a full description of her eating and exercising habits.

Ari glanced at Belle, who gazed disbelievingly at Rose. She looked sick, and placed a  reassuring hand on Alice's leg.

Ari turned to get some air, feeling she might cry at any moment. She stepped out into the beer garden, and took a deep breath of smoke filled air. She caught Cindy's eye, and made her way over.

Ari wafted the smoke from Cindy's cigarette away from her and leaned against the wall, trying not to think about Rose's new figure. She had to be doing something else. Detoxes maybe. That would be it. She was completely fake. Stupid whore.

Cindy let out a long sigh with her smoke.

“I'm pregnant, Elle,” she said quietly.

Ari frowned, quite sure she'd misheard her. “You're joking.”

Cindy grimaced. “Fraid not.”

“But- jesus Cindy.”

“I know. Bummer.”

Silence fell between them. Ari couldn't digest the news. A fight broke out on the other side of the courtyard. Glass smashed onto the floor as the bouncers dragged them out.

“You shouldn't be smoking Cin.”

Cindy sighed. “Doesn't matter. It'll be damaged any way.”

“Why?”

“Because you can't bring a baby into a world where its father fucks his girlfriend's bestie every other week can you?”

Ari felt her mouth drop open as Cindy took another drag.

“You know?”

“Of course I know. I've known since it started. I don't wear that trashy violet lipstick do I?”

She sighed again and threw her cigarette on the ground, stubbing it out with her heel.

“What are you going to do?” asked Ari quietly.

Cindy glanced up at the starry sky, partly obscured by the smoke.

“Carry on,” she said. “Isn't that what we do best?”

“But-”

“There's no point trying to be perfect Ari,” Cindy said. “I was. You are. Fucking Rose can't stop,” she said with a bitter laugh. “But there's no point,” she sighed. “There's no such thing. Not any more.”

Ari felt Cindy's fingers interlace with hers before she left, disappearing back into the club. Ari leaned her head against the dirty wall and closed her eyes momentarily. She sighed and headed back into the club.

Rose and Snow were still deep in conversation, but Belle and Alice were nowhere to be seen.

Ari pushed the door of the bathroom open and headed for the mirrors. She glanced at her body, too fat now. Her legs looked like tree trunks, nothing like Rose's spindly perfections.

Jaz burst into the bathroom with a man in tow. She winked at Ari before disappearing into a cubicle with him. Her sounds of pleasure began to rise. Ari ignored her, having heard it many times before.

The door banged open again as Belle entered. She looked relieved to see Ari.

“Have you seen Alice?” she asked.

Ari shook her head, flexing her legs in the mirror.

“Well do you know when you last saw her?” Belle asked, shouting to be heard over Jaz' screams.

“Uh uh,” said Ari, still gazing at her legs. “Ow,” she cried as Belle grasped her, her fingernails digging into Ari's skin.

“Will you pay attention to something other than how you look for once?” she shouted, tears seeping from her eyes. “I'm sick of the lot of you! You haven't even noticed, you never notice. Any of you.”

“Belle-”

“No I'm sick of you. When did we start acting like this?” she shouted. “Sluts,” she said, throwing a hand out to Jaz' cubicle. “Beauty obsessed, anorexics, drug takers. Surgery addicts.”

Ari felt stunned. She had never seen Belle lose control like this.

“Do you know what I was told last week?” she said. “I was told that I had schizophrenia.”

Ari felt the news hit her in the face. Belle's lip wobbled as she said it. Her body shook but she held it together.

“But you know what,” she said, smiling slightly. “I'm not the one here who is mentally ill.”

A heavy silence fell between them, disturbed only by the distant music and Jaz's now quieter moans.

“Belle,” Ari whispered, “I'm so-”

“Don't be. I'm not. Because I feel sorry for you. And Rose. All of you. Especially Alice. Because she will never be like you,” said Belle tearfully. “You don't realise do you? How she looks up to you, how she's desperate to be like you. But she never will be.”

“She can try. A little make up, a little diet-”

“Do you hear yourself?” cried Belle, her hands in her hair. “She will never be like you because she is normal. Like me, like every other girl in this world. But we can't be the same as you, wanna know why?”

“Why?” snapped Ari viciously.

“Because you,” Belle whispered, “are fake. Not even you, can really ever match the fake you.”

Ari seethed quietly as Belle shook her head tearfully.

“You know the really sad thing?” she said. “Once long ago...you could.”

She gave her one last long look and left, slamming the door behind her. Ari faced the mirror slowly, and raised her eyes tentatively to her reflection.

She hadn't known then that Alice had been in one of the cubicles, that she had heard everything, and that she had picked up on the only sentence that truly mattered to her. Selective hearing, the strongest vice that had ensnared the women of this century.

Little Alice had been found hours later, her nose bloodied from the cocaine she had been taking for weeks. The reason why? Cocaine was purported to make one thin.

Ari sat on the sandy shore of her hometown, her feet in the water. She hadn't realised how much Alice had been struggling. How any of them had. Including herself.

Rose had been taken into hospital, after suffering a cardiac arrest. Cindy had cut ties with Snow, kicked her boyfriend out and was going to raise the baby on her own. Jaz had been diagnosed with HIV, but continued to sleep with guys in the bathroom.

As for Ari, she had moved home not long after Alice's death, had found a counsellor and was slowly but surely coming to terms with herself. She was beginning to remember her true voice, not the voice in her head that told her to be better, thinner, more beautiful.

Belle visited often, and they took long walks along the beach. Ari had deleted all her social media accounts, and the only pictures she took were polaroids.

She sighed contentedly as the water lapped against her feet. She watched the glittering ocean caressing her skin and wondered for the hundredth time if she had made the right choice. Being human wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

But what could she say? She had sold her soul to the devil long ago. And she knew there was no escaping him. If not a sea witch, then Instagram, or Snapchat. Calories, surgery, hair extensions. The devil was everywhere. But he would never take her voice again.