#so naturally i freaked out fell off the chair and pinned my arm under me

[post-itpenny]

My Nature

Ok, last part of the story! A warning tag for gore but not too bad. Tagging @grotesquegabby for Alex.

Imagine-

Sitting in a chair in a room with no light. The walls and floors are bare. Imagine you can’t leave the chair.

Now imagine there is a small window in front of you. Sometimes it’s very far away and you can barely see out of it, sometimes it’s right in your face, exposing every detail of what’s on the other side.

Through this window you see… yourself. Your hands and arms, the tip of your nose. You see yourself acting and doing and saying things you did not choose to do. Feeling all the pain your body goes through. You watch yourself and yet you are not yourself. The real you is trapped in a dark room unable to leave a chair. The you outside the window is your body but not you.

And no matter how much you scream or try to move there is nothing. No control.

This is what Peregrine was going through.

He was in pain from the burns to his face and arms. He was crying in horror as he watched himself strangle Magpie. Aware of Circe taunting his sister using all the repressed feelings and memories he had tried to bury down and move on from. They didn’t matter anymore to him, or at least he was trying not to let them be.

Magpie passed out, her body going limp.

Peregrine felt his heart drop. “Please no, no, no, no.”

He watched his hand reach out and check her pulse, felt it’s faint beating.

Peregrine sighed in relief.

He watched his hand reach out and touch his sister’s face.

…………………………….

There was something banging against Alex’s window.

The party clown had been mindlessly channel surfing when he heard it, looking up from the tv to see Cobweb of all creatures desperately trying to get in.

Alex arched an eyebrow in curiosity as he opened the window, letting the grumpy fairy inside.

“Hey there bud. What’s the-“

Alex stopped at the sight of the little fairy with his usual frown but shaking in fear. As if trying to keep a brave face.

Alex scooped Cobweb up, “what happened?”

……………………………..

The door to the manor was busted down with a swift kick of Alex’s foot.

“Knock, knock.”

He walked in, hands in his pockets and Cobweb on his shoulder. A smile on his face.

But it wasn’t his usual smile, this one was… off.

Alex whistled a tune as he walked down the hall, stopping as he turned a corner to Magpie’s parlor.

There was Magpie and Peregrine standing next to each other.

Magpie tilted her head with an empty smile. “You weren’t expected.”

Alex grunted at the force of air that knocked into him. Cobweb being thrown off but Alex holding his footing. He blinked, Peregrine slamming his fist down on Alex’s shoulder.

Alex slipped out of the way with a grin, grabbing Peregrine’s arm and tossing him into a wall. Before he could recover Alex was on him. Punching him squarely in the face.

As Peregrine collapsed Magpie stumbled as well. Alex chuckled. Must have knocked whoever was in ol’ Peri clean out of him. Too easy.

The walls ripped as pipes and wires burst forth, trying to wrap around Alex as he slipped through them easily. From his back dark tentacles burst forth, reaching out to restrain Magpie. She teleported out of the way and sent a stronger gust of wind.

This time Alex nearly did fall, surprised when someone caught him.

Peregrine looked like he had been dragged through hell, his face and arms burnt and clothes singed and torn.

“It’s Circe,” Peregrine grunted, “Bitch is standing outside.”

“Well let’s say hello!” Alex laughed as he turned to run.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

They turned at the sound of Circe’s voice coming from Magpie. She had summoned a knife, holding it against her throat as a thin trickle of blood formed.

Both froze, Alex’s grin tightened as Peregrine growled.

Magpie smiled, her eyes showing fear. “Let’s all be nice and calm as we say hello. Ash still needs a host anyways.”

They walked back to the entry hall, Magpie behind with the knife still to her throat. Ash and Circe were already waiting for them. In Circe’s hand was a struggling Cobweb.

“Look Pie it’s your little plaything!” Circe cheered as she tossed the little fairy aside, Cobweb crashing on the floor where Trouble was trying to stand guard over the still limp forms of the other three.

“He thought it was a good idea to pull my hair, how cute” she sneered.

Ash looked over Peregrine with disgust, “Circe you trashed this one. What am I supposed-“

“Oh shut up,” Circe snapped. “Use the other then I don’t care.” She smiled at Magpie, “wouldn’t that be cute you little freak? You like him don’t you?”

Alex looked over his shoulder. Magpie watching him with the same empty smile and tears in her eyes.

Alex turned back around to find Ash’s hand on his face and an unfamiliar pressure boring into his brain-.

Well fuck that.

Alex grinned as Ash stepped back with a hiss.

What the hell is your problem?” Circe asked with a roll of her eyes.

Ash grimaced “what the hell spawned something like you?!”

“Hey now, my mom’s a nice lady. My old man however...” Alex chuckled darkly. Beside him Peregrine turned pale.

Circe scoffed. Behind them Magpie stomped her foot as the ground split. Pulling Alex and Peregrine aside.

Ash sighed in annoyance. “Really? That’s the best you can come up with? I’m so scared-“

“Shut up it's not easy controlling-“

“You just don’t have any good ideas,” Ash sneered. “Let me take a turn I coul-“

“Shut your mouth,” Circe snapped. “Do you realize how stupid- ugh!”

Alex climbed to his feet and dusted off his jacket. “Hey Lady Luck I know you’re in there. You really gonna just let-“

“Shut up!” Circe yelled. Magpie flinging her hand in Alex’s direction as he was tossed across the room and pinned to the wall by an invisible force.

Circe smirked. “You want to be impressed?” She asked her brother. “Fine, I just needed some inspiration.”

Magpie raised her hand, power crackling at her fingertips, and turned to where the fairies and Trouble were huddled on the floor.

“How childish do you have to be to make something like this?” Circe snickered. “Pathetic... get rid of them.”

BOOM!

The explosion came in a flash of light and heat. Drowning out the split second where four tiny voices screamed.

The explosion sent shockwaves out, ripping up the metal walls of the warehouses around it and tearing at the streets. Workers running for their lives.

The dust settled to show the entire front wall of Magpie’s home gone, hardly a splinter of wood or speck of stone remained.

Yet the fairies and Trouble were just fine.

Ash gaped in surprise, “what the-“

In unison Magpie and Circe fell to their knees. Hands on their heads as if in pain.

Ash tried to run to his sister’s side only for a black tentacle to wrap around his ankle and flip him up in the air. Alex chuckled as Ash thrashed about like a fish, “not today buddy.”

Peregrine knelt beside Magpie and placed a hand on her shoulder. Not saying anything but just assuring her he was there.

For a fight it was surprisingly quiet, the two women with their eyes locked on eachother. Whatever was happening known only between them.

Then, strangely, Magpie began humming. Peregrine knew it, had heard his sister sing it so many times as children and familiar with the feeling it brought. Alex watched in confusion, a shiver passing through him as he felt a pull at his-

Circe collapsed.

Magpie gasped for air as she fell forward into Peregrine’s arms. Alex falling to the floor as he was freed. He laughed as he flung Ash away and pulled both siblings into a hug. “You don’t ever do that to me again ok? You know I would have-“

L̵̻͌̉e̸̛̙͖͇t̵͕̬̑̓͜ ̷̙̘̲͝m̵̢̗̥̄͛̐͝ȩ̸̰͙̎ ̷̨̟̩̌͜g̶̽͂͠ͅo̴̺̎.̷̣̙̙͐͝”̵̲̇̈́͘

Both Alex and Peregrine jumped back as Magpie climbed to her feet. Eyes wild and the veins under her skin glowing.

Circe looked up in alarm as hands materialize from nowhere, clawed fingers ripping at her skin and tearing at her clothes. She screamed and thrashed about. Ash backing away in alarm as Magpie snapped her fingers and the air was sucked out of his lungs and turned to frost that formed small icicles, piercing his face.

He fell to the floor bleeding as he struggled for air. With a flick of her wrist he was flung out the manor and into the destroyed street beyond. Circe has somehow fought off the hands and charged at Magpie, hand extended.

Magpie reached out and Circe was hauled into the air. Arms and legs spread like a grotesque starfish.

Circe gasped in pain as her limbs were stretched. Joints popping, skin creaking. Stretching farther and farther.

For a moment Peregrine wondered if Magpie planned to draw and quarter Circe in her own fashion until a new change took hold.

Magpie’s skin was lit up like a star, heat radiating off her. Circe’s mouth open wide in a silent scream as the skin at the edges of her fingers and toes began to unravel like thread. Then the nails, the veins, the bones.

Soon both hands and feet were gone, nothing but piles of ribboned flesh on the floor. Alex and Peregrine doing nothing to stop Magpie’s torment while the fairies watched on in horror. Peasblossom shuddering and turning away at the scene.

As Circe’s arms and legs finished unraveling she began to silently sob.

Then, it stopped.

Magpie was breathing heavily, body shaking in anger. Tears streaming down her face.

Y̶̨̩̽̓̿̒o̸̦̱̽̓͊u̵̼̫͌̆̚͝ ̵̘̜͇̉c̶̨̀̑͘o̶̧͊̀͂͋u̶̡̼̠̽͒̇l̶̛̲̫̲͛̆̓ḑ̷̼͕͕̏̅͂n̸̼̩̲͗̚’̵̖̗̥̍̓͠t̷͉̏ ̸̟̬̻̬̃͑͆̉c̵̭̼̳͊͝o̶̙̰͍̹̔͛ñ̷̗̻̒́́t̵̡̜̉̀͛r̶̥͍̀ͅo̸̗̜̥͛̑̕͝l̵̪̥̃̈ ̸͕̗̻̐̓m̴̦̹̃̅e̶̡̤̹͆̎̓͜ ̸̤̦̞̾b̴̺̘̼̯́̎̀ë̶̜̩̀̋̚c̶̗̀́͋͝a̷̦͇̜̜̚u̸̪͖̗̇ş̴͔̝̟͂e̷͍͓̔̌̊ ̴̠̳̩̍͌ͅỳ̵͈̠͊o̷̹͒̓ŭ̴̲̦ ̵̦͉̲͙̅̿̇̋l̷̹̘͉̉͆͝ä̷̺̰̘̦́̆̀̑c̴͙̼̹͋͝k̶̛̰̤͗ ̷̡̅͂t̷̡͖͔̘̋͘h̷͔̦̮̀͒̏̿ë̵̠̥̙̉̔̀ ̴̡̤͔͖̇̕͝ḯ̸̬m̷͇̙̜̘͗̈́͛̚â̸͕̥͉͂͗g̶̱͛i̵̢̛̭̐n̸͚͇͙̚a̷̙̾͋͗t̶̼͍̊i̴̡͉͓̽̾͝o̵̡̽̽̈́̇n̷̼̻̅̒̇͊.̵̙̳̋͛̏̐ ̵̦̣͠L̶̝̮͆e̶̡̥̮̩̓ț̸̝̌͘’̶̤̺̭̼͋̿̃s̸̳͚̏͝ ̶̣͙̀̅͛g̴̢̻͈̺̍̌e̶͔̯̩͋̈́t̸̰̞̼̓̾ ̴̭̙̞̒̃c̷̠͆͑̊̚r̶̤̉̐͜ë̵̢̺͖́̓̚à̸̲̙́t̴̞̿̊̈́ĭ̴͖v̵̹̣̦̉̒̄̒ȅ̸̤̞͑͜ ̵̩͈̭̆C̴̻̋͝i̵̗͊r̶̪̪̮̲͗c̶̹͓͊ͅe̴̛̮̘̖̲͋̅.̴͖̝̪͝”̷̤̯̣͑̈̚

If Circe thought her body unraveling was painful, the reverse was so much worse.

The deadlight finally found her voice as she shrieked hysterically while her body reformed. Threads of flesh stitching back together.

Alex was about to ask what Magpie was doing when there was an explosion of light. Magpie’s hair erupting in a thousand shades of color that reached out as if to touch everything as Magpie began to walk. Each step a wave of power rushed out as the manor began to restore itself.

Magpie dragged a still screaming Circe with her as she went into the street. Colorful pavement forming and twisting around strange new buildings where the warehouses once stood. Strange and new plant life growing from nowhere. Colors of every shade known and unknown painted everything as all forms of insects, flowers, stretches of yarn, statues, crystals, trinkets, and all manner of things appeared everywhere. It was beautiful and full of life and color. A chaotic creation surrounding the restored manor.

And all the while Circe still screamed.

Peregrine felt his skin tingle, looking down at burned hands now healing.

Magpie now stood before Ash and Circe. There was a humming sound again. It was not Magpie but the same song from earlier. Alex shivered again as he felt the pull once more at his lights.

Alex blinked, looking down at his body and realizing his deadlights were indeed glowing faintly under his skin. Peregrine’s as well from where they were stored in his stomach and hands.

Ash and Circe glowed brightly, the sound intensifying as Magpie reached out.

“Well that’s new,” Alex whistled.

Peregrine however shook his head, “I think she could do this the whole time.”

Magpie closed her eyes as the deadlights of everyone around her hummed with life. A song she knew so well. With her outstretched hand she snapped her fingers.

The humming of Ash and Circe’s lights changed as they shouted in pain.

Magpie smiled sweetly, “On this planet you belong to me, your lights obey me. If you ever touch one of my family again they will listen only to me.”

As if on cue their lights flicked as they thrashed in pain. Bits of skin flaking off and dissolving into the air as if they threatened to fall apart.

“̸̯̜̆͒Ṅ̴͙̭̪̪̅̄o̴͙̠͇̅̂̎̒w̷̖͚͒ ̴̦̖̣̠̈́͛̎̌ģ̷̛͉̚ę̸̜̼͆͂́̎ͅt̵͕̹͚͊̑̿̀ ̴͖̪̄o̶̫͕̜̎̋͆̽u̶̘̯̪̓͘ţ̴͓̺̫̎͒̕.̴̙̈́̉͌͝”̵̛̬̦̮͔͌́͘

They were gone in a loud “pop!” Magpie taking slow breaths as the color left her hair and the glowing faded.

“So you can just talk to lights now huh?” Alex questioned as he walked up behind her. “Well why the hell not I gue-“

Magpie crashed into him with a tight hug. Burying her face in his jacket, shaking with tears.

Alex hugged her back and smoothed her hair. “It’s all good Lady Luck, it’s ok.”

Magpie reached out an arm and grabbed Peregrine who for once was not opposed to the forced group hug. “I’m so sorry I-“

“It’s ok,” Peregrine insisted as he hugged her back. “I’m sorry too, it's ok. But Pie you should have just kill-“

“No.” Magpie insisted as she pulled away.

Alex chuckled, “it’s cool and anyways if they come back I can always-“

“̸̡̩̓͒I̸̦̬̽̂͒ ̴̼̇s̵̻̗̰̩̉̕ā̶̺͚̈́i̸̗̟̐̊d̴̛̟̭̒̂͑ͅͅ ̸̠̈́̎͋͂n̴͖̠̲̕͝ͅo̵͉̘̹̮̽̐͊͘.̴̗͙͔̊͑”̴̡̮̓̐̄̀

Alex blinked in surprise. Magpie glaring at him and Peregrine both.

“̶̧̡̎̔͠Y̸̧̓̃͂o̴��̮̥͊̔u̶̠͍͉͆̈́̆ ̸͖̒̋̚d̷̢͐ò̵͕̼̭̿͘n̶͙͙̱̐̾̅’̵̑́̊ͅt̶̰̣̂̾͘͜ ̸̙͚̻͛̅̆t̷͉̝̫͂h̸̞̀̃į̸̤̿n̴̢̥͚̓͑kI̵ ̷c̵o̶u̷l̴d̸ ̷h̸a̷v̵e̴ ̸j̵u̵s̴t killed them myself?” I’m not like either of you. I could erase any of you molecule by molecule. I could shut off your lights in a second or force them to my will and make you beg like dogs-“

“I’m not like either of you, I’m not like them. I̸’̷m̵ ̸w̵o̶r̵s̵e̷.̸”

“... But that’s why I fight to be better. That’s my nature.”

Magpie walked passed them both and back into her home that now sat surrounded by her tiny chaotic new realm that was nestled upon the planet under a cotton candy-colored sky.

[forlornmelody]

Double The Trouble Chapter 9 -- Justified

Rating: Explicit (other chapters are NSFW)

Ship: FemShep x Femshep Clone // Shenko, eventual OT3

AO3 Links: Chapter 1 // This Chapter

Summary: Shep had planned to spend another night alone. Instead she has a surprise visitor–one she had never expected to see again.Unapologetic consensual clone smut.

Note: This is a sequel to Spare Parts, but obviously you can read this without reading the other fic.

This chapter, and all future chapters are in present tense. No reason other than I fell in love with writing this way while working on the prequel, and now I can’t stop.

Jane Shepard eyes her therapist critically. Kaidan’s words at breakfast have been weighing on her mind all morning. “You’re not like...some neo-Cerberus spy, are you?”

Her therapist quirks her head in that way that tends to rankle Shepard, at least in this room full of acid-trip paintings, fake plants, mood lighting, and plush pillows. It all screams at her Shouldn’t you be happy? “You worried I’ll tell sensitive information, Shepard? I would be a terrible therapist if broke your confidence.”

You’re a terrible therapist already, Susan, Shepard thinks to herself, but doesn’t dare say it out loud. She wants her damn biotic amp back, so she needs to behave. That, and Susan never seems to take her seriously. So Shepard says nothing, eyeing the window, skimming the book titles on the shelf, and the patterns of Susan’s blouse while she gathers her thoughts.

 “Hey, Shepard.” Shepard always knows how Kadian’s feeling by the way he says “hey.” This time he’s on edge, and Shepard reaches over the table and their pancake breakfast to grab his shoulder.

“What’s up?”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Shepard pulls her hand back. In hindsight, they went straight to sleep last night. She didn’t think much of it, then--too exhausted for a romp after dinner. Setting her fork down, Shepard replies “Out with it.”

Kaidan takes a deep breath like he’s about to go under. “Jane wants to see Maya.”

“Oh.” Shepard sits back. She should have seen this coming, with their conversation last week.

“She said you told her I knew where she was.”

Shepard rubs her face, taking a big gulp of coffee. “Sorry. I was kind of distracted when she brought it up.”

Kaidan raises an eyebrow.

“Not that.” Shepard rolls her eyes. “It’s when we were arguing at the Reds’ headquarters.”

Both his eyes went wide. “You went to the Red’s territory?”

“She wasn’t returning my calls!”

“I’m not mad. I mean. Are you okay?” He says it carefully, as if he’s walking in zero gravity.

Shepard nearly says she’s fine but she bites her lip instead. “It sucked. I’m not going to lie. But I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Kaidan squeezes her hand. “Of course. I’m just surprised you didn’t tell me.”

“Are you?” Shepard takes a gulp, ignoring her half-eaten pancakes.

“So what are we going to do about Maya?”

“And you’re still not sure?”

Shepard hasn’t told Susan about the nature of her relationship with Jane. She already feels like she’s under a lot of scrutiny. Susan is an Alliance-appointed therapist, after all. Honestly, she probably shouldn’t even tell her about this situation. If something goes wrong, Shepard will go straight to court martial, and no reaper invasion will save her this time. “I’m not going to do anything rash.”

“But what are you going to do?”

“What’s the harm of letting them visit? If we’re really worried, we can always take her amp away.” Oops. She probably shouldn’t have brought it up like that.

Susan eyes her. “Is this about your clone, or about you?”

Shepard breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth. She can’t afford to lose her temper right now. “I’m getting sensation back in my left arm. Pins and needles--that sort of thing.”

“And this relates to your amp how?”

To make things easier, Shepard tries imagining Udina in Susan’s place, but that just makes her blood boil more. Tevos? Christ. Her chest tightens up. No, no, no. 

“What are you thinking right now?”

Tears spring in her eyes before she can stop them. “I hate having to fucking justify myself to you. To anyone.” She hates how she’s making a scene. She hates that she can’t breathe.

Susan taps away on her Haptic Adaptive Interface. “And why do you feel the need to justify yourself to me?”

Shepard puts her head in her hands, squeezing her hair until it pulls at her scalp. 

“You just don’t get it.” Shepard glares at her blurry shape, breathing in sharply. “I feel twice as paralyzed without it.”

Susan nods slowly. Fuck. Can she even move without looking down her nose at her? “Does it remind you of a time before?”

Talking about it hurts too much. “Yeah,” she manages to say.

“Mm. I see. Shepard, if you’re feeling up to it, I would like to try something new with you.”

Shepard rubs her eyes, blinking at her. “Will I get my amp back if I say yes?”

“I want to see how you do with it first.” Typical. “What are you feeling in your body right now?”

“Not much. That’s kind of the problem, Susan.”

Susan shakes her head ever so slightly. “Close your eyes first. Of what you do feel, how would you describe it?”

Shepard takes a breath. She must behave. She must work with her. Or she really will lose her mind. “Like someone dropped concrete on my chest. Filled my lungs with it too. And my shoulder hurts like hell.”

Susan asks, “And when have you felt like that before?”

Another breath. “Horizon.”

“The first or the second time?”

“The first.” Shepard sniffs, wiping her nose.

Susan hands her a box of tissues. “And is the pain the same, or has it moved?”

“It’s in my, fists too.”

“And before that?”

“When I updated the Council on Saren...and asked to go to Illos.”

They repeat the cycle a few more times, until they get to one memory Shepard really doesn’t want to talk about. “When I was with the Reds.”

“Ah. I wondered when we would get here.” Susan hands Shepard two buzzers. “Are you familiar with EMDR?”

“Yeah.” Shepard swallows. She remembers doing it before. She remembers it not being pleasant.

“I want you to describe this memory. And while you describe this memory and what happened, and how it made you feel, I’m going to activate the buzzers like this.” She flips a switch, and each buzzer vibrates in turn. It’s an odd, if not distracting sensation, but it doesn’t hurt.

Shepard remembers the moment vividly, but when she tries to describe it, no words come.

“Shepard. Feel your feet on the floor, and your thighs and back touching your chair. Note any tension in your body and release it. If it helps, imagine a green light touching those parts of you and healing your body.”

It sounds cooky, but Shepard complies, and when her therapist says nothing, she continues onto her memory.

She ducks inside the door, soaked from the rain. Just as she removes her coat, she hears Ice’s voice behind her.

“You’re home late.”

She spins around blurting the excuse she rehearsed the whole way back to headquarters. “Some narc was tailing me. Had to lose them.”

It’s then she realizes Ice and her aren’t alone. All the other enforcers of 10th Street, named ones--Greenie, Finch, and Caine--and the other Johns and Janes who’ve yet to make their first kill. This is bad. Really bad. She looks across and makes eye contact with her girlfriend, Jane--who’s rattling like a leaf in the fall. If she doesn’t cool it, she’s going to get them both in trouble.

“Wouldn’t be the first time a narc has seen you, right, Jane?” Ice stares at her with steel eyes, and she shivers despite the heat of their house.

“I don’t talk to narcs!” She snaps. She knows better. Her girlfriend, though?

Ice pats her shoulder. “I know you wouldn’t rat out your family, Jane.” Then Ice squeezes her shoulder so hard it hurts. “Just tell me who got Ace arrested and we’re good.”

Greenie shoves her girlfriend into the middle of the circle that has formed around them. Shit. They already know Jane told the cops. A cold feeling settles in her stomach. Damnit. Why couldn’t Jane keep her fucking mouth shut?

“Cat got your tongue?” Ice smiles. “Maybe you'd rather show me.” She presses a pistol into her hands. “Go ahead. Take care of it and we can all move on.” Squeezing her shoulder, Ice whispers into her ear. “You can finally get your name.”

She raises her gun, wanting to run. Her girlfriend sobs hysterically, begging her not to do it. If she doesn’t---

“You can be one of us.”

It’s what she’s wanted for years--to be a full-fledged member of the Tenth Street Reds with her own name and rep. It’s what she wanted until she fell in love with another Jane--a Jane who found a way out. The narc promised them a new life: witness protection--everything. They were so close.

“No, please! It won’t happen again.”

“One of us! One of us!” The other enforcers start chanting. Her hands are slippery with sweat. She feels the static on her skin and smells the tang of eezo in the air and she tries to shove it down. Freaks never stick around the Reds for long.

Ice laughs. “You’re right. It won’t. Do it, Jane.”

Hesitating with her finger sliding on the trigger, she shakes her head and lowers it. “No.”

The gun shot leaves her ear ringing, and her girlfriend’s blood splatters across her face before her body falls to the floor.

“I’m disappointed in you, Jane.”

“Breathe, Shepard. Breathe.”

Shepard’s eyes snap open, and she feels the tears on her cheeks. How long had she been crying? She gasps for air, trying desperately not to think of dying and how it feels like she’s dying again above a frozen planet beneath an exploding ship. Her therapist counts her breaths for her until the hyperventilating stops.

“I think that’s enough for today.” Susan looks at her placidly, turning the buzzers off.

“Do I get my amp back?” Shepard hands her the buzzers, feeling like she’s outside her skin.

“I’ll let you know.” Susan opens the door to let her out. “See you Friday.”

Typical. Shepard shuts the door behind her.

[the-cpu-system]

2Doc

TW! ANIMAL ABUSE, ALCHOHOLISM, AND ABUSE IN GENERAL!

Nonbinary 2D❤

Also this is my first Gorillaz fanfic so pleasw just spare whatever this monstrosity will be.

This is very angsty and seems like anti-2Doc but trust me at the end it gets to the ship jhfhssj

Also sorry for any spelling errors!

||2D Snaps||

It was just a normal day, Noodle playing games on her DS in her room, 2D looking for literally anything in the fridge, Russel doing.. Russel things (idk I don't keep up with him I'm sorry), and Murdoc sitting at the table, beer bottle in hand, staring at 2D. " close the fuckin door ya good for nothin piece of!- " 2D turned around to be met with a glass bottle smashing inches from their face. They flinched just after that, pushing the fridge door close with their hip. " I- uhm- uh- I'm- I'm sorry I'm uh- I'm- " they apologized, Murdoc growling and leaning back. " get me another beer, you're the closest. " They seemed just absolutely confused but grabbed two beers from the fridge, giving one to Murdoc before going to walk away. " aye Stu, " they turned around to face the bassist, " come sit down next to me. " the singer slowly walked back over, just because they didn't want another bottle flung at them. They pulled out the chair, sitting down quietly. Their lanky arms were limp on the table, the sweating beer in hand. They didn't keep eye contact with him- well- they couldn't really keep eye contact at all but they just didn't look at him. They gulped down whatever fear they had. Besides, he shouldn't be scared of Murdoc. Bandmates shouldn't be scared of each other. They glanced up at Murdoc who, from above the table, was just drinking the alcoholic beverage quietly, ignoring 2D's existence. It was better than getting hit. Under the table though Murdoc's free hand found itself on 2D's thigh, hand dipping downwards to the in between area of Stuart's pants. The singer, actually being on time with this reaction, rather panickly scooted the chair away, standing up with the closed beer in hand. " I- uh- I gotta go to my room! " They left hurriedly, glancing back at Murdoc who's tongue rolled out of his mouth along with a growl.

The singer sat on their bed, headphones plugged into a damage phone that played Dirty Harry. It wasn't their most favorite, but they liked the song. Its one of the only ones that didn't remind them of Murdoc like Feel Good or Rhinestone Eyes did. They closed their eyelids, humming along to the song. With the volume all the way up they didn't notice the green figure that stood in the doorway, glaring with a glass bottle held in his clenched fist. For no other reason than because he can, he chucked a bottle at the singer for the second time today. They jumped up, eyes wide with fear. Their music had already stopped. They screamed in pain, the drunk not knowing why until they moved their hands. A giant glass chunk had landed in the void called their eye socket, and other pieces had cut into their face, blood seeping and spewing from the cuts. Disgusting sight. At least the both car crashes 2D was in to get their eyes gouged out werent bloody.. Or weren't as bloody, but that's just because Murdoc didn't really see Stuart's body. This time he did. Though through his drunken state he couldn't comprehend what the hell just happened, even after Noodle and Russel came rushing in and called an ambulance.

It was about a year after that incident. Murdoc had no recollection of it ever happening and 2D had gotten a therapy dog to cope. New year new me, I guess. 2D had to wear an eyepatch because it hadn't healed correctly, even after all that time for it to heal. Guess being pinned down on a couch and having beer poured into your eye socket does that. Murdoc had sworn off drinking, just to try and get clean and because of 2D's dog. Last thing Murdoc wanted was to hurt an animal. Of course Murdoc's new years resolution didnt last too long of course when another boring day rolled around another 5 bottles were inhaled like air.

A rule that was made was the dog (named Blue) wasn't allowed on the couch. Though, Blue liked to curl up on 2D's lap, or well, attempt to, Blue isnt really a lap dog. Blue is a husky. But 2D was watching a movie, the one they watch every single time they get the tv. Blue was on their lap, making sure they didn't freak out with Murdoc just in the other room mumbling about how he wanted to snap their neck. The bassist drunkenly stumbled into the living room after a good amount of time. 2D was now asleep, Blue doing the same on their lap. Blue's body hung over onto the couch cushions. This pissed Murdoc off. So without any thought he chucked the glass bottle at the dog. Blue yelled in pain, causing 2D to wake up. Murdoc realized what he did, eyes widening in horror. " Sh-Shit!- 'm sorry I didn't mean to!- " 2D was too worried for their dog to notice Murdoc apologize for once in his life. Murdoc never apologized for hitting Stuart, or for getting both their eyes gouged out, or for literally everything else. Though when the singer realized what Murdoc said they stopped, smiling softly at the fact that the bassist of the band did have a heart and morals just very.. Deep deep deep down in his green Satanist heart.

Noodle and Russel were in the room now, the drummer piecing everything together in his mind and yelled at Murdoc, deciding now wasn't the time for psyichal violence. Noodle still didn't notice what happened, she was just standing there awkwardly watching as Russel yelled at Murdoc (who just took the yelling, surprisingly) and 2D on the floor, arms wrapped around Blue, trembling with tears threatening to spill from their eyes. As she realize she made an " oOoh " and walked over to 2D, helping them to their room, along with the dog of course.

With the incident now a week behind 2D and Murdoc hasn't left their rooms. The singer wasn't in the right state, tried to restart his painkillers addiction a few days earlier, so the painkillers were hidden and now they just didn't have the strength to leave their room. The Satanist felt horrible. Guilty. Disgusted in himself. Picking up women, getting drunk, getting high, getting drunk AND high, abusing 2D, almost killing 2D a handful of times, dressing like a n@z¡ That one time, and everything else he's done were a-okay in his book but animal abuse. That drew the line. 2D probably hated him now. They should be hated him before but they never did. May out of fear. Everyone hated him, never really pretended not to. But Stuart. Stuart "2D" Pot never seemed to hate him. They also forgave him.

His head began to hurt bad, he needed some beer. No.. Something stronger. Whiskey? Vodka? Vodka. But that'd mean he'd have to go out of his room and potentially see 2D. Oh well. Alcohol over feelings any day.

He trudged out if his room, dressed in nothing but his underwear as he rummaged around in the fridge and cabinets for the vodka. Conveniently Blue had to go out, so 2D cane out of their room a few minutes after the green male, quickly letting the dog outside before turning around to retreat back to their room. Murdoc had noticed them and now the two were staring at eachother, being too nervous to say anything but too confident to just walk away. Eventually 2D spoke. It was quiet and raspy, as if they hadn't drank water in a while. " can I get a sip? " Murdoc nodded and handed it over to the bluenette, who chugged half the bottle in a matter of seconds. He didn't comment on it, just built up enough courage to apologize once more. " 'ey look 'm sorry bout your dog I didn't mean t- " " I don't forgive you. Stop apologizing. " " ... 'xcuse me? " this had never happened before. 2D had just.. Ran out of patience. Patience for Murdoc to get better. Yeah they loved the son if a bitch, but they couldn't take his shit anymore. " did you really think I'd forgive you after you threw a fuckin glass bottle at my dog that I got because of you? My therapy dog that I only got so I could cope with the fuckin trauma YOU gave me. Are you forgetting this?- " they flipped up their blue and black eyepatch to reveal the swollen and greenish-black eye socket. Murdoc cringed in disgust. They flipped the eyepatch back down, continuing to vent. " I sat- and still do sit- in my room, hoping, PRAYING to whatever exists that you'll change. That you'll realize how fucked up you are. That you'll love me instead of chuckin beer bottles at me. I know that apology that night was genuine. I thought for a second that you changed- but the few fuckin times we've seen each other since that are JUST like before- I CANT FUCKIN TAKE IT ANYMORE NICCALS- I- I FUCKIN QUIT. " Stuart didn't mean it. Of course they didn't. They loved Gorillaz, I mean there'd never be a singer more fit for the job than them. They were just too caught up in it. Blue knew that too. That's why the dog clawed at the door. " I- Stu- Stuart- you can't just- you can't just quit- " Murdoc attempted to move closer, though 2D staggered back and gripped the now empty vodka bottle, raising it up like they were gonna hit him. " D- DONT FUCKIN COME NEAR ME- " the bassist ignored this warning and came closer, being greeted with shattered glass and small droplets of vodka to the face. He fell on his ass, holding onto the now bloody side, rather ironically a piece had jabbed into his eye. Just like what happened with Stuart. Though Stuart just stared down, panting heavily, admiring what they had just done. This wasn't the 2D Murdoc knew. He had really corrupted them. The singer grinned, laughing as they threw the top part of the bottle down next to Murdoc for it to shatter. " 'ats karma. "

-6 years later-

Blue had sadly passed due to natural reasons, though 2D was able to overcome the death of their therapy dog and not resort to pills. Murdoc was doing better just now with one eye missing. The two had fixed their friendship, both went to rehab together. They had matching eye patches and were inseparable from each other. So there they were. At a live concert for the band. For the 6 years of healing their relationship they never went any further than just friendly things. Though the thigh grab Murdoc did 7 years ago still stuck in 2D's mind, the words 2D had said stuck in Murdoc's.

On stage the two stood close, sneaking lustful glances at eachother. Though as they sang all their old songs they kept getting closer, the crowd most definetly noticing. " JUST KISS ALREADY! " someone yelled, both of them laughing. So once Feel Good Inc. had ended 2D let the Mic stand swirl and almost fall, Murdoc catching on and handing his bass to Noodle. The two pulled each other close, lips connecting. Some of the crowd cheered, some booed. They could care less. The kiss got more heated, 2D bent down a bit, Murdoc grinding on them. Though the two realized it was time to stop and separated, a string of saliva following. They wiped their mouths and grabbed their instruments again, continuing the concert like nothing ever happened. Though everyone knew that the two were way more than just Bandmates now. They were lovers, fuck buddies, boyfriends, etc. And they sure as hell were gonna show it off to the world.

(Edit: why is this so long i )

#2doc #studoc #2dxmurdoc #stuartdoc

[im-still-writing-out-of-time]

Public Outing

The final winner’s choice fic for 200 followers!! Thank you so much @theouterdomain for being a follower and for being in my notifications all the time. ❤️

Warnings; trans outing, descriptions of violence

Masterlist

Thomas stood in front of Alexander, arms crossed as he listen to the short man argue. His hair was braided into cornrows, tightly pulled back against his head. Glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, sliding down as he looked at Alexander, whose hands were waving wildly to illustrate his point. People flooded in the halls around them, immune to the daily arguments between the two. “And another thing, Thomas, I-”

A ripping sound filled Alexander’s ears as a breeze danced across his back. His arms fell to his side as his body froze, his eyes wild. He stared at Thomas in shock, lip quivering as his t-shirt fell forward on his body. A dark gray binder held tight against his chest as someone pushed their way through the crowd, calling him a freak of nature. “Alexander?”

The shirt fell to the floor, the sleeves raking against his arms as they dropped. His chest was heaving, deep shuddering breaths shaking his body. Tears were hot against his cheeks, a steady stream sliding down his chest, the tears disappearing into the dark fabric.

“Alexander.”

He blinked the tears away and bolted down the hallway. Students stood watching in silence as Alexander pushed his way through the crowd. The warning bell rang and began to shuffle into their classrooms, except for Thomas. He stayed bolted in place, his mind racing.

A scream sounded from around the corner. Alexander.

“Leave me alone!”

The sound of someone hitting the floor. Screaming, accompanied with the occasional slam of a locker sounded down the hallway, growing fainter with increasing distance. Thomas was bolted into place. He could hear someone talking in his ear, but the words were lost to him.

“What?”

“I asked you if you were okay.” A small freshman stood in front of him, her books under her arm.

“I have to go find Alexander.”

The look she gave him was full of pity. “Check the nurse’s office. The gym teacher just had to tackle him to take him down.”

Thomas shoved his glasses back up his nose, and booked down the hallway. “Thank you!” He shouted, turning the corner. The nurse’s office was at the other end of the school. His mind was swirling. Part of him ached for what Alexander had just gone through; being outed in the main hallway, in front of half of the high school, and part of him was just confused. Why? How? Why was he outed? Why had that kid decided to try and ruin Alexander’s life, ruin Alexander? How had the kid found out? Who even was he? His heart was thundering as he grew closer to the nurse’s office. Was Alexander okay?

“Is Alexander here?” He asked the old lady behind the desk.

“Mr Jefferson, do you have a pass to be here?”

“I could lie to you and say I told my teacher I was coming here. But no. I came right here.”

The nurse sighed, picking up the phone. “Where are you supposed to be right now?”

“Geography 204.”

The nurse nodded her head to a back room. “Alexander is back there. Don’t rile him up or I’ll kick you out.”

Thomas nodded before taking a shuddering breath. Would Alexander even want to see him? He shoved the door open to the back room and slipped inside. Alexander was laying on one of those terribly uncomfortable beds, his wrists clipped in braces on either side of his body. “Oh, Alexander,” he breathed.

Alexander’s head drooped to the side, his eyes empty as he blinked impossibly slow, giving Thomas a sad smirk. His lip was swollen, a deep cut bleeding slightly. “Did you know this school has so many quote-unquote-problem kids that they actually have an exam bed with braces? They almost pinned my legs down, too.” His elbows were bent at odd angles, his wrists pulled up even with his shoulders. “Alexander-”

“I hate this so much,” he sobbed, his face scrunching up. “I can’t be here anymore. I’ve been here for three years. And I was finally getting used to the place, you know? I eat lunch with Laf and Herc and John, and I argue with you and James, and everyone always just… accepted me, and now they all know. And now I’m gonna have to leave.”

“Why do you have to leave just because they know?” Thomas pulled the stool from the corner over to the bed.

“They’ll kill me,” he whispered. “They’ll gang up on me. And they’ll kill me. It happens every time.” He has raised his head slightly to look at Thomas, and he slammed his head back onto the bed. “I don’t wanna die,” he whimpered. “For the first time in as long as I can remember, I actually enjoy waking up. I enjoy coming to school and seeing your stupid face, and hearing your dumb opinions, and owning this place with the guys. And now it’s all gone. Everyone is gonna hate me more than they already do.”

“I don’t hate you,” Thomas whispers. “As dumb as your opinions are, and as loud and arrogant as you can be, I don’t hate you.” He chuckles slightly. “Kinda the exact opposite actually.”

Alexander stayed silent, his eyes drifting closed. “I don’t want to go,” he finally whispered.

“So don’t,” Thomas whispered back.

The nurse pushed the door open. “Alex,” she said, moving towards him with keys in her hands. “When was the last time you took your Xanax?”

His face went blank, eyes searching the air for the answer. He sat up on the bed and rubbed his newly freed wrists. His eyes darted from Thomas to the nurse, his chest heaving with each breath, his heart beating visible against his olive skin.

“Since it’s taking you so long to figure it out, I’m going to assume it’s been a while, yeah?” She dumped some pills in her hand as Alex nodded his head ashamedly. “I called George, and he brought your prescription, and I called your doctor. Considering you missed your morning dose, and now it’s time for your lunch dose, he said he wants you to take both of them now. That’s eight pills, Alex.” She held the palmful of tiny white pills out to him.

“Can I have a cup of water?” He asked, taking them in his own hand.

Thomas left the small room and returned with a cup of water, holding it out to him.

“Thanks.” Alexander took the pills and popped them all in his mouth at once, chasing them with half the cup of water. “Did- did George bring me another shirt?” His eyes stayed cast away from everyone, the small blue garbage pail in the corner becoming increasingly interesting.

“No, he didn’t. If you want, I can call him to bring you one, or you can borrow one of the nurse’s stash shirts.”

Alexander’s eyes shone with tears. “I don’t want one of the loner shirts, and I don’t want to bother George anymore. Can’t I just stay here for the rest of the day?”

“You have to get to class. Both of you,” she specified, looking at Thomas, who just nodded. He shrugged off his letterman and forced Alexander’s arms into it, buttoning all but the top two buttons up. The top of his binder was clearly visible, the jacket hanging off him, but at least he was covered. Alexander forced his hands through the sweater paws, fighting to keep the sleeves around his wrists before giving in and snuggling deeper into the red and white fabric.

“Is that okay for you Alexander?” The nurse asked as Alexander curled back up on the bed. “Yeah, it’s fine.” He sniffled. “Can we stay here for the rest of the period? We’ll both leave when the bell rings.”

She looked at Alexander. He looked pitiful, his eyes dimmed red, light purple bags beneath them, a snotty nose that he refuses to blow, and instead, kept sniffling. “Yeah, whatever. But I want you both out for your next class.” Both boys nodded and she closed the door. They sat in silence, Alexander curled up on the bed, Thomas finding the chair beside him once more. “Alexander, I didn’t know.”

“That was the whole point,” he whined. “No one was supposed to find out. I worked so hard to get where I am and it was just shattered in a matter of seconds.”

Thomas’s hand dug for Alexander’s, retrieving it from its sweater paw. “What did you mean by they always kill you?”

Alexander sunk into himself even more at the question. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It was just a weird way to word things and I overstepped, I definitely overstepped and you hate me, so why would you want me to know one of your thoughts and the reasoning behind your thoughts and now I’m rambling and I’m going to shut up.” He sighed and looked at the ceiling before looking down at Alexander and catching the small smile on his face. “What?”

“I don’t hate you. I just think you’re a giant asshole,” he teased, sitting up on the bed, hunching over. “I was at my last school for about three months before I came out to someone I trusted, or, someone I thought I could trust. It turned out he was a super transphobe, and so he got a bunch of his real friends and they lynched me. George was my foster father then, and he came home to find me strung up in the garage. They had recorded it with a hidden camera and ended up uploading it to YouTube or something. I was dead for sixteen minutes before paramedics got there according to the video. And they barely managed to revive me on scene.”

“A video….”

“Yeah, I watched it a few times, wondering why George had happened to come home early and happened to want to park his car in the garage for once. It was all a bunch of coincidences that ended up with me sitting here, outed again, waiting for the retaliation again.” He looked up slightly, and angled his head to the side, and for the first time in three years, Thomas noticed the discoloration on his neck- the rope burn. “No one will ever hurt you again Alexander, I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.” “I know, but who would fight with you when you have the football team’s quarterback on your arm? Hmm?” Alexander smiled, blushing at Thomas’s words. “Kiss me.”

Thomas didn’t fight him. He leaned in, their lips brushing together. It was gentle; Thomas’s hand reached around Alexander to cup the back of his head, holding him in place. Alexander smiled into the kiss. He was surrounded by Thomas’s scent- the smell of his cologne dancing heavy in the air around them from the letterman, the taste of TicTac was strong in his mouth- wintergreen if Alex knew his tastes- the smell of his laundry detergent was heavy on the white t-shirt strapped against his muscles, and his natural scent was dizzying. It was a high Alexander never wanted to leave.

Thomas leaned back slowly, his hand drifting from the back of Alexander’s neck to caress his cheek. His eyes were a beautiful golden brown, shining at Alexander with adoration.

“I think I could stay here if it meant I get kissed like that on a regular basis,” Alexander joked, a small laugh huffing from his chest.

“Well, it just so happens that I’m looking for someone to wear my number at the homecoming game next week. I’ll pick you up tomorrow night and we’ll go out for pizza and wings, and it’ll be like a little, uh, interview to see if you’re a viable candidate.”

“Oh? And how many, uh, interviews do you have?”

A sly smirk graced Thomas’s face. “Just yours.”

Alexander blushed. “What if I don’t want anyone else wearing your jersey but me?”

Thomas stroked his chin. “Do I still get to take you to get pizza and wings tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Then you’ve already got the position as boyfriend, jersey wearer, and chief arm candy,” Thomas said, pressing a gentle kiss to Alexander’s temple.

“Good,” Alexander whispered. “Also, you’ll have to fight me to get this jacket back. It’s comfy, it smells like you, and it’s mine now.”

“It’s all yours, Alex. It’s all yours.” He wasn’t just talking about the jacket, either.

[animationnut]

To Gravity Falls, From Piedmont: Chapter 29

Summary: It’s a long way until next summer. Until then, Dipper and Mabel share their daily antics and life problems with their lifelong friends and attentive great-uncles through an endless string of e-mails. Distance makes the heart grow fonder after all, and there’s no place Dipper and Mabel love more than Gravity Falls. 

                                                      Chapter List

To: Wendy Corduroy (Lumberchick); Soos Ramirez (QuestionMarkDude); Grunkle Stan (StantheMan); Grunkle Ford (Highsixer); Dipper Pines (GhostHarasserfan)

From: Mabel Pines (ShootingStarRainbowUnicorn)

Subject: WE'RE GRADUATING

We did it, my people!

Dipper and I will be graduating from Piedmont Middle School. Our ceremony takes place on June twenty-third and then we're gonna blow this popsicle stand! We'll film it so everyone can see it!

Much love,

Mabel

See all messages in this thread (Expand)

Dipper Pines: We still have two days before we get our final report cards.

Mabel Pines: Not this again.

Wendy Corduroy: Dude, you have nothing to worry about. Well, not about passing the eighth grade, at least. You should totally be freaking out about high school.

Dipper Pines: Thank you for your poor attempt at making me feel better.

Mabel Pines: It's no use. He won't stop panicking until he has his report card in his hands that tells him that he's once again an honour student.

Dipper Pines: It's irrational, I know. But I'm mostly made up of irrational fears.

Soos Ramirez: Congrats, hambones! I wish I could be there to see you dudes graduate.

Dipper Pines: Us too. But two days after our ceremony we're getting on a bus to Gravity Falls, so we'll be there before you know it!

Mabel Pines: WOO-HOO!

Grunkle Ford: And we'll be there to meet you.

Grunkle Stan: Geez, I can't believe it's been a year already.

Wendy Corduroy: Speak for yourself. It felt like summer would never get here.

Grunkle Stan: That's high school for you. Sorry we won't be there to see your graduation, kiddos. A freak storm got in our way. Darn nature.

Mabel Pines: Don't worry, it's fine! We'll show you the video.

Grunkle Ford: Don't miss a second.

Dipper Pines: She won't. Pretty sure she's going to attach a Go-Pro to her head.

Mabel Pines: Thinking about it.

Dipper Pines: But it's only middle school graduation. It's really not that big of a deal.

Grunkle Stan: We'll be the judge of that. And we say it's a very big deal.

Grunkle Ford: You've successfully finished one stage of your life and are ready for the next. That's a great accomplishment. You should be proud.

Wendy Corduroy: Dominate that stage, dudes. Who's your valedictorian?

Mabel Pines: We actually don't have one at our school.

Soos Ramirez: Boo! You would have made a great valedictorian, hambone.

Mabel Pines: Aw, thanks!

Grunkle Stan: Are your parents going?

Dipper Pines: Yup! They promised they'd be there, and they never make promises they can't keep.

Grunkle Ford: I'm glad they'll be there to see you cross the stage. We'll be with you in spirit.

Grunkle Stan: In the not-dead way.

Wendy Corduroy: I'd be with you physically if I could but my dad would kill me if I skipped my last exam.

Soos Ramirez: Have fun, dudes!

Dipper Pines: We will! Thanks everyone!

Mabel Pines: Class of 2013, we're out! Peace!

White-sandaled feet moving against the scuffed tiles of the mall, Mabel darted her eyes back and forth across the corridor. Pastel sun dresses, flowery shirts and faded shorts lined the store windows, sprucing up mannequins in full summer outfits. Dipper trailed after her, hands shoved into the pockets of his dark blue vest.

"See anything you like?" he asked, trying not to let his boredom show in his voice.

"No. It's not as easy as finding a tie to match a suit," she answered knowingly.

"You could wear a suit, if you wanted," replied Dipper.

"I could," Mabel agreed. "But I'd rather wear a dress. I know I'll find one, I just have to find one that speaks to me."

"It's been two hours," said Dipper with a slight groan. "If nothing is speaking to you yet it's probably because they're not feeling chatty."

"Boo," said Mabel, failing to hold back a laugh. "That was terrible."

"Of course it was. That's the kind of joke Grunkle Stan would make."

It took another hour of searching, but Mabel finally found her graduation dress in the sixth clothing store they visited. It was hanging in the back, among a collection of other prom and graduation dresses of varying styles and colours. It immediately stood out to her and she walked towards it, like a moth attracted to a flame.

The colouring was lilac and it was an A-line sweetheart style. The length was on the shorter side, looking as if it might reach her knees. There was a darker purple bow tied neatly just above the torso, the entire upper part covered in silver rhinestones. With a wide grin on her features, she eased it down from the rack and rushed off to the change room. Dipper sat down on one of the wooden benches to wait, and a couple of minutes later she swept back out, the ruffled layers swishing around her legs.

"What do you think?" she asked, looking at her reflection. The stones glimmered under the fluorescent lighting.

"It's perfect," said Dipper sincerely, who had spent most of the day watching his sister model different dresses.

"I think so too. It's even on sale! Talk about fate." Mabel did a little twirl, watching her movement in the vertical mirror mounted to the wall. "Good news, bro. We are officially done shopping."

"Good, because I'm starved. Want to get something from the food court?"

"Cheap, greasy, low-quality fast-food? Of course."

Mabel changed back into her magenta sweater and white skirt and paid for her dress. She linked arms with her brother and they started for the mall's food court. Dipper glanced at Mabel and remarked, "You know that my dress shirt and tie are also purple, right?"

Mabel stared at the bag he carried, which contained his newly bought clothing items. "I totally forgot," she exclaimed. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Well, it's not quite matchy-matchy. And I don't mind wearing coordinated colours if you don't mind."

Smiling warmly, Mabel said brightly, "Not in the slightest."

To: Pacifica Northwest (GravityFallsPrincess); Wendy Corduroy (Lumberchick); Candy Chiu (SweetasSugar88); Grenda Gosling (Hugsx0x0)

From: Mabel Pines (ShootingStarRainbowUnicorn)

Subject: My graduation dress

1 Picture Attachment

Hey, girls!

I found my graduation dress and thought you might like to see it. What do you think?

Much love,

Mabel

See all messages in this thread (Expand)

Candy Chiu: It's beautiful, Mabel!

Grenda Gosling: I love it! It's perfect!

Wendy Corduroy: It definitely suits you, babe. You'll rock it.

Pacifica Northwest: You've got better taste than I thought.

Wendy Corduroy: Would it kill you to give a direct compliment?

Pacifica Northwest: It might. I don't want to risk it.

Mabel Pines: Thank you! I love it, and I'm super happy I found it.

Pacifica Northwest: I'm surprised you didn't make your dress.

Mabel Pines: I thought about it. I don't really buy fancy dresses all that often, so I decided to treat myself. I added all the glitter to the bottom part of the dress, though.

Wendy Corduroy: It looks amazing. You better take pictures.

Candy Chiu: And send us them!

Mabel Pines: Will do!

The morning sun shone brightly, bathing the rolling grass field in a golden glow. Dozens and dozens of folding chairs were neatly lined in rows, a wide gap between the two sections to allow for the student procession. Families of the graduating students were already seated, chatting amongst themselves. Silver of flashes of light occurred at random intervals as pictures were taken, from digital cameras and cell phones. The staff of Piedmont Middle School were gathered on the platform set up near the back of the soccer field, seated behind the oak podium. A red banner was hung from the two supporting metal pillars of the platform, and in bold yellow letters it read, 'Piedmont Middle School Class of 2013'.

The school band was situated directly in front of the platform, comprised of the seventh-grade members in full band uniform. The music teacher led her students into Pomp and Circumstance, and soon the graduating students were filing out of the school's side entrance and onto the field. They followed the red carpet that stretched from the entrance all the way to the platform.

Mabel's lilac dress glimmered in the sunlight, but her smile was much brighter. Her long brunette hair was tied into a high ponytail, held in place by a butterfly pin. Her white flats moved in rhythm with her peers. She spotted her parents amongst the crowd, sitting close to the front. Mrs. Pines was in a burgundy dress, her short hair just reaching her chin and framing her face. Mr. Pines wore a dark grey suit with a red tie, the sun casting a glare on the square frames of his glasses. Mabel waved wildly at them and they beamed back, Mrs. Pines raising her camera to snap a picture.

"Dipper, look, it's Mom and Dad! Hi Mom! Hi Dad!"

"Yes, I can see them. Stop waving your arm like that, you're going to hit me in the face. I'd rather not walk up the stage with a black eye."

Mabel stuck her tongue out playfully at him but lowered her arm. They made their way down the aisle and took their seats. Dipper adjusted his tie and glanced around, taking in the scenery. It seemed a bit surreal that he was really graduating middle school. It did not seem like long ago when he was attending his first day of classes.

"What are you looking at?" asked Mabel, leaning over and resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Nothing. Sorry. Just thinking."

"It's officially summer and in about an hour we're going to be officially finished with middle school. The time for thinking is over!"

Dipper was about to retort, but refrained when he saw their principal, Mr. Han, get up from his seat and walk up to the microphone. The audience fell silent and he cleared his throat before speaking.

"Before we get started, I ask you all to please stand for the National Anthem."

There was a slight commotion as everyone got to their feet and then the band struck up the beginning notes of Star-Spangled Banner. When the anthem was finished, everyone took their seats and Mr. Han delivered his opening monologue. When he finished, the presentation of diplomas and subject awards began. It took a bit to reach the twins, and Mabel felt her heart beat with anticipation when her row stood and began towards the stage.

"Here we go, bro."

"Please don't let me fall down the stairs," whispered Dipper.

"Mabel Pines; receiver of the art award."

Mabel let a whoop as she charged onto stage. She shook Mr. Han's hand and accepted her diploma and award with a wide grin. As she started for the other side of the stage, she turned toward her peers and called, "See you on the flip side! Mabel Pines is out!"

"Oh geez," muttered Dipper as their peers and most of the audience dissolved into laughter.

"Mason Pines; receiver of the history award, science award, math award and English award."

After initially flinching at the use of his real name, Dipper crossed the stage with more reservation than his sister. He could help but smile when he heard Mabel's chant of "Dip-per, Dip-per," rise above the applause of the audience. He returned to his seat with his awards, glossy wooden plaques that bore the school's logo and his name engraved below the subject heading.

"Good job, you didn't fall," said Mabel cheerfully, clapping her brother on the shoulder. "Probably because you looked down at each step before you took it."

Dipper sent her a look. "If I hadn't I would have tripped over my own feet. I'm surprised you didn't do a cartwheel across the stage."

"I thought about. But I figured it probably wouldn't go so well considering I'm wearing a dress. Hey, do you have your phone on you?"

Managing not to drop his awards, Dipper removed his phone from his pants pocket. Mabel snatched it from him and held it out, grinning widely. "Graduation selfie!"

She took the picture and studied it. She and Dipper had their heads close together, teeth flashing in large smiles, their diplomas resting on their laps. Mabel happily attached it to an e-mail and typed out a quick message before sending it off.

"I wish Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford could have been here."

"Me too," said Dipper feelingly. "But I think that require a very long explanation, considering Mom and Dad think only one of them is still alive. And I think that's a sit-down, in-person kind of explanation."

"Good point. But hey, we did it. We're middle school graduates."

Dipper glanced around. "I think I might miss it, even though it hasn't always been the greatest. Is that weird?"

"No," answered Mabel honestly. "It's familiar. We always miss what's familiar when it's taken from us."

Dipper stared at her, eyes slightly wide. "Wow. That's deep."

"Thanks! You know, I'm going to miss this place too. There may have been some bad times, but there were good times, too." Mabel closed her eyes, feeling the sun against her neck and listening to the humming chatter of her peers. "That's the great thing about memories. No matter where you go or how much time has gone by, you always carry parts of the past with you."

Dipper went quiet for a moment, knowing just how powerful one's memories could be. "Yeah," he agreed with a smile. "High school might be scary and unfamiliar, but we'll get through it. We have each other."

"Always," said Mabel, reaching and giving his hand an affectionate squeeze.

It took another hour or so for the ceremony to completely finish, and once Mr. Han gave his closing remarks everyone stood up and started to mingle. Mabel went over to speak with her art club friends and Dipper said goodbye Diego, Justin and Len, promising to keep in touch. After a while, Mr. and Mrs. Pines came over to give their children hugs.

"Good job, kids," praised Mr. Pines, ruffling Dipper's hair. "We're very proud of you."

"You look beautiful, the both of you." Mrs. Pines smoothed down a few loose strands of Mabel's hair. "I know there are refreshments in the cafeteria, but how would you like to go out for brunch instead?"

"Yes!" said Mabel instantly. "All the maple syrup!"

"No drinking it from the bottle!" called Mrs. Pines as Mabel raced off towards the parking lot. She let a fond sigh and started after her.

"Make sure she doesn't drink maple syrup from the bottle," muttered Mr. Pines, wrapping an arm around his son's shoulders.

"On it," promised Dipper.

They went out for brunch and when they returned home, it was to see two items on their doorstep. One was a massive flower bouquet, so large that it took up most of the porch space. The petals were of varying shades of pinks, blues, yellows, oranges, reds and greens. They were tied together with a glittery silver bow.

Mabel squealed and rushed over to it. She removed the attached card and opened it, where she found the signatures of everyone from Gravity Falls. "Aw, I love them!"

"How sweet," said Mrs. Pines, gently touching the petals. "You must have made quite an impression on your friends in Gravity Falls."

"I think you could say Gravity Falls made an impression on us," replied Dipper, sharing a secret smile with his sister. "Maybe you could come visit this summer?"

"I don't know, we'd have to see," said Mr. Pines, though he sounded doubtful. "But you kids have a great time. Here, I'll bring this in for you."

He hefted up the flower arrangement and brought it into the house, Mrs. Pines following after him. Dipper and Mabel picked up the package that remained and tore upon the brown paper. Inside were two black jewelry cases. In the one addressed to Dipper was a silver pocket watch, his name engraved on the inside along with the date of his middle school graduation. Mabel received a matching wristwatch, tiny diamonds surrounding the face of the watch, with her name engraved on the strap.

Dipper held the pocket watch against his chest, feeling his heart pound with excitement. "A few more days. Then we'll be there."

Mabel held up the card that came with the watches, which was signed Grunkle Stan Ford, a space between their names so if their parents happened to open the package, they would assume it simply read as Stanford.

"Another summer, another new beginning," she said. "I can't wait."

To: Grunkle Stan (StantheMan); Grunkle Ford (Highsixer); Wendy Corduroy (Lumberchick); Soos Ramirez (QuestionMarkDude); Dipper Pines (GhostHarasserfan)

From: Mabel Pines (ShootingStarRainbowUnicorn)

Subject: We did it!

1 Picture Attachment

We just got our diplomas, which means we are officially done middle school! I'll send other pictures and the video of our ceremony when we get home!

See all messages in this thread (Expand)

Soos Ramirez: You guys look great! Congratulations!

Wendy Corduroy: That was the easy part. Wait until high school.

Wendy Corduroy: Just kidding! Sort of. But seriously, you dudes rock and you should be super proud of yourselves.

Grunkle Ford: Congratulations, kids. I know it hasn't always been easy, but you always came through. We're proud of you.

Grunkle Stan: Yeah, those jerks who made fun of you aren't going to be laughing when you become their bosses. Great job, runts. We'll see you in a few days!

[writtendestiny-blog]

No Going Back, Ch. 4

Fandom: Mystic Messenger 

Rating: M 

SFW?: not really bath scene included 

Spoilers: Definitely 

Summary:  In Elly’s world things are very different, for example Jumin is her pet cat. So when she falls into the reality we know just in time to replace Jumin’s lost cat he takes her in. As she tries her best to blend into this world will she find love or only trouble? 

Confused? See Chapter 3,  Master List

Chapter 4: Strawberry Flavored

She’s awake, finally. It had been 4 days and he was beginning to worry that she was in a coma and not just resting like the doctor said.  There she was though sitting in front of him all curled up and hugging her knees. She looked confused and a bit scared, Jumin wished he hadn’t fallen asleep maybe then he could have spoken to her before she got so freaked out. She must not remember that she transformed, this all must be very disorienting for her, he thought.  

Jumin leaned forward in his chair placing a hand on Elizabeth’s face. He had to try to comfort her but this only seemed to surprise her. So he placed a kiss on her forehead, “It’s ok Elizabeth I’ll take care of you,” he said hoping this would calm her. But perhaps it had the opposite effect, she started crying. Jumin’s heart felt heavy in his chest seeing her cry was too much.  He slipped of his chair and crouching in front of her he wrapped his arms around Elizabeth and put one hand into her hair petting it gently and being careful to avoid her injury, “shh, shh, it’s ok, I know this is strange but it’ll be ok,”

He was hugging me; all of his movements were so delicate. Maybe he was scared he would break me. It didn’t matter either way though because I appreciated his efforts to comfort me. I also had noticed that I wasn’t naked, meaning he had put clothes on me. He must be a good guy, with him thinking I was his cat I wouldn’t have been surprised if he just put a collar on me but nope I was sitting there on the floor wearing what I assumed was a pin striped shirt of his. It was baggy and too long for me but it was comfortable.  I was glad to have something to cover me up; it gave me some confidence in what I needed to do. It was evident that I would for the most part be unable to leave this man’s house so I would have to accept the role of being his cat.

I took a deep breath and prepared for what I was about to say, “Master… you won’t get rid of me right?” it felt so embarrassing to call him that but I was his cat I had to keep that in mind. I just hoped he didn’t notice my cheeks growing a bit red. Just in case I ducked my head away from him as Jumin released me from his embrace.

“Elizabeth…” he spoke so soft, “why would I ever get rid of you?”

“I’m not a cat anymore…” I was so nervous that I would mess up and he’d realize I’m not his cat but I decided to use that nervous energy to my advantage. It would be natural to feel nervous if you suddenly changed species right, especially if you were scared your owner might not like you anymore.  My eyes were still wet from crying and I hoped Jumin would believe I was crying because I was worried he’d abandon me, which would make sure he’d keep me close.  

“I’d never abandon you” he tilted my chin up so that I locked eyes with him. Those gray metallic eyes, oh how easy it would be to fall for those eyes. They must be sharp and threatening when he wanted them to but looking at me, there was nothing but warmth and love, “you’re still mine no matter what,” his hand wiped the moister from my cheeks.

This was perfect; he really believed I was his Elizabeth. My eyes must have glowed with triumph so I quickly closed them as I leaned into his hand. I wondered if perhaps I should purr if this turned into him petting me, “even though I’m not even totally human?”

“Are you upset about the ears?” he asked and I nodded, “I think they’re cute.” I smiled glad that Jumin liked them, “perhaps we can put bows in your hair to accentuate them.”

Was he going to play dress up with me? I guess I didn’t mind it was just weird to think about, “alright whatever you think looks nice.” I let him see the success in my eyes so he’d see I was happy he accepted me.

His eyes looked away from mine and I could tell something was troubling him. Was I unable to convince him after all, “I have to ask though if you still want me to be your owner, why did you run away?” I was surprised by this, Elizabeth ran away from him? But he seems like such a good owner, maybe it was just some kind of mistake.

“I ran away?” I responded deciding to play dumb, “I didn’t run away, you own this whole building don’t you?”

“an accident then… yes that makes sense,” Jumin nodded this must have satisfied him, “yes I own this building but only the penthouse is truly my home,” I opened my eyes a bit wider to seem surprised and then nodded to show my understanding, “please don’t leave the penthouse again.”

“yes master, I’ll be more careful now,” I looked down at the floor, “I’m sorry.”

Jumin stood up, “it’s alright everyone makes mistakes,” he offered me his hand, “can you stand?”

Could I stand… hmm that was a good question I mean of course I could but would a newly transformed Elizabeth be able to, I wasn’t sure, “I don’t know…” I hoped he would ‘teach’ me so I wouldn’t have to fake this forever but I gave the most logical answer I could give, “is it hard?” Elizabeth 3rd wouldn’t have ever walked on two legs before.

Jumin smiled and before bending down and placing one arm under my knees, he was going to hold me bridal style, “that’s all right I’ll carry you.”

I leaned against him and let him pick me up, “where are we going master?”

“A bath,” Jumin said holding me close, “then I’ll make us some breakfast. I wonder if you’ll like pancakes.”

I must have won the lottery; he was going to make me pancakes I didn’t have to eat cat food. But wait a bath? Was he going to clean me? Of course he was going to if I couldn’t do a human thing like stand how would I be trusted to bathe myself? I pouted, “a bath, do I have to?”

He chuckled, “still don’t like baths I see,” he carried me into the bathroom, seems I wasn’t getting out of this one, “don’t worry you have less fur to weigh you down now.”

I kept up the pout, “but master, I don’t want to!”

He sat me on the floor and quickly closed the door to the bathroom like I might run off, “Elizabeth you’re filthy, you’re taking a bath and that’s final.” I crossed my arms in front of me and didn’t say anything. I did feel like I needed a bath but I wasn’t sure I was ready to be cleaned by someone else. But he said it was final so I just had to deal with it. He sat on the edge of his very large tub and turned on the water. He added some bubbles and kept putting his hand under the tap to be sure it was a comfortable temperature.  Soon though the bath was ready, “alright it’s ready for you.” He stood up and walked over to me.

“Alright fine,” I took off the shirt I was wearing and tried not to feel uncomfortable as he bent down and removed the bandage from my ankle and then picked me up. Jumin gently placed me in the water, it was the perfect temperature and I was glad that there were some bubbles to give me a bit of cover.

“I promise it won’t be that bad,” he carefully took the bandages off my head and just let them drop on the ground next to him, “you might even start to like baths now,” he cupped some water in his hands and let it pour over my hair. Some lose strands fell in my face. It was such a mess, I wore a hat the day I escaped and who knew how long I’d been in bed for after that. It wasn’t that long only going down to about my chin but it was unruly and liked to poof out when it wasn’t well maintained. He pulled all my hair back and poured shampoo in his hands. He started running his hands through my hair spreading out the suds. I thought it would feel childish and bother me but it was relaxing. This whole thing it was like a trip to the spa. I leaned back closed my eyes and let him focus on his work. It wasn’t long till jumin had switched to conditioner and then carefully rinsed it all out. “Alright now for some body wash,”

My eyes were still closed and I barely noticed what he said so it came as a shock to me when I felt a wash cloth rub against my shoulder.  I sat up and tried not to be nervous, “master?”

“I know I always only had to clean your fur before,” he must have taken my hesitance as confusion, “but now a lot of you isn’t covered in fur.” He cleaned around my neck and shoulders, even this felt really nice. I told myself to just get used to it, and that it wasn’t wrong to enjoy it. He took care of me for days while I was unconscious so I could trust him to do this. I leaned back in the tub and let him continue.

The wash cloth rubbed against my breasts. My face felt hot, my cheeks were bright red. Jumin didn’t notice and continued washing me. The cloth made my breast tingle the stimulation making my nipples stiffen.  A moan threatened to escape my lips as he grabbed the one nearest to him. He lifted it to clean underneath and I couldn’t help myself it felt so nice. I unconsciously bit my lip trying to contain myself. I was being ridiculous, this wasn’t meant to be sexual it was just a bath I told myself, when suddenly Jumin dropped the washcloth.

It must have been on instinct that he quickly ducked his arm under the water in search of it because his hand found itself right between my legs, and too close to my entrance for comfort. Shocked I clamped my legs shut trapping his arm in place. My eyes were wide with surprise when I locked eyes with Jumin. His on the other hand burned with something I could only describe as an almost animalist desire. Had I awoken the beast within him I wondered. He leaned closer to me and I wondered if he was going to kiss me so I closed my eyes.

As my eyes slipped shut though he tugged his arm out from between my legs and stepped away from the tub, “that’s enough for now,” he said as he dried off his hands on a towel avoiding eye contact with me, “I’ll go pick out an outfit for you, wait here.” he left the room and I wondered what kind of outfits he had in mind for me.

God she was so beautiful Jumin thought to himself as he left the bathroom careful for her not to see the hunger burning in his eyes and even more careful for her not to notice the arousal within his pants. “Don’t be so lewd,” he whispered to himself after he had shut the door behind him. Yes this was all he’d ever dreamed; now he could see for sure if Elizabeth really understood him, and he could make her his in ways he never could before, but she still was always his cat and she might not approve of him having these sexual thoughts about her. Elizabeth’s comfort was the most important thing and he wasn’t about to ruin that by jumping towards behaviors she probably didn’t understand. So he’d have to contain himself at least until he was sure she was ready.  

He quickly flung himself into looking for a suitable outfit for Elizabeth 3rd hoping it would rid his mind and body from any inappropriate thoughts. Jumin had purchased many outfits after Elizabeth’s transformation and he hoped they would all fit and be to her liking. If they weren’t though he would quickly get her anything that she desired, but he definitely would still want to help pick things out.

After a while of searching through all the outfits he had purchased he finally settled on one, and by that time any of his previous arousal had calmed down. Feeling ready and satisfied with himself he placed the clothes on the bed and returned to the bathroom.  Where he was surprised to find Elizabeth sitting on the side of the tub wrapped in a towel her hair a tangled mess after having dried it herself.  He wondered how she knew how to let the water out of the bath. But it didn’t bother him much; his Elizabeth was smart and had probably seen him do that many times of course she must have figured it out on her own. And something bothered him a lot more; he needed to tame that wild hair of hers.

After he left I quickly grabbed the lost washcloth and completed my bath. I was so filthy; I needed to take a shower the day I left and jumping into a dumpster really didn’t help things much. I decided that along with the dirt and grime I would wash away my past. My heart still felt heavy for all that I had lost, but Jumin my Jumin gave his life so that I could make it here. There would be no time to mourn and no going back. So I had to except my new role in this world, I would live by this Jumin’s side as his cat and forget all about him being mine. It wasn’t so bad though Jumin seemed nice and I longed to know him more since he was my cat in human form.

Without even thinking I let the water out of the bath and stepped out. I grabbed the nearest towel and rustled it through my hair giving it a quick dry. Then covered myself in the towel and sat down waiting for Jumin to return. It wasn’t until he returned that I realized my mistake. I was acting way too human there is no way Elizabeth 3rd knew how to do all that. Seeing the agitated look on his face I was terrified that he suspected something. “I-uh figured it out…” was all I could say as he stepped super close to me. I didn’t know what he was going to do and I was scared.

He reached out to me and held a strand of my hair in his hand, “I’ll have to brush it…” he said to himself.

All fear rushed out of me and brought up a fit of giggles. That’s what was bugging him, my hair that’s it he didn’t notice anything, “hehe alright master,” I said smiling. I thanked the universe that he wasn’t looking for anything suspicious, human psychology is a gift sometimes.

He had me straddle the tub as he sat behind me brush in hand.  I was glad my hair was still a bit wet because there would be no managing it if it had already dried, hats were usually my solution at that point. I’m sure Jumin was making a mental note to buy some detangler. But he was handling it well with delicate strokes, being careful of both my ears and my injury. He only accidentally pulled my hair twice the whole time and he got my hair looking rather respectable. It was way better then whenever I tried to do it myself, but maybe that’s just because he has better conditioner then I’ve had in a while. “there now that’s hair fit for Elizabeth 3rd don’t you think?” Jumin said as he finished brushing my hair.

I nodded, “yes master, it’s really nice.” We ended up not bandaging my wounds again, we decided they were healed enough to be in the open. I was really glad about this because having to bandage my head would have ruined all of Jumin’s hard work, and I could tell he was pleased about it.

Jumin carried me into the bedroom still wrapped in the towel and I spotted an outfit laid out on the bed and knew it must have been for me. I didn’t mind the clothes they were quite nice and fit well. The top was a nice white sweater; the bottom was a nice skirt complete with some knee high socks. Underwear was included but not a bra; apparently he wasn’t sure how to figure that size out.  One I was dressed the two of us made our way too the kitchen.

The place was lovely; it was huge and had a modern style in the living room. The kitchen was just off of the living room with a bar counter separating the two spaces. “Alright wait here and I’ll have something nice for you to try,” Jumin said as he placed me on a bar stool. I placed my arms on the counter top and rested my head on top of them. Jumin pulled out a cook book and started searching for the ingredients he needed.  I noticed sitting on the counter was a framed picture of Jumin petting a very adorable looking cat. Elizabeth 3rd I told myself, she was ball of white fuzz and seemed so comfortable and at home at Jumin’s side. I grabbed a strand of my own hair and held it in front of my face. It was the exact same white fluffy hair I thought. It really was true that he was the human version of my cat and I was the human version of his cat. In the picture his eyes were full of the same loving warmth that I always looked at my Jumin with, like he was the only one who could understand me. I wanted to imagine that my Jumin and his Elizabeth would have played together; it made my heart feel a bit lighter. My eyes wondered to Jumin as he made pancakes. I couldn’t help but smile, he looked so focused and so determined. Like as if the pancakes were the most important thing ever, it was cute and I couldn’t wait to try them.

They were the best pancakes I’d ever had, and they were strawberry flavored, my new favorite.  

Author’s Notes: sorry it’s been so long, winter break I went out of town and when I got back I wasn’t feeling the whole writing thing. But I promised I’d get back to it so here it is and I’m getting my motivation back ^_^ so don’t worry I will finish this series. And hopefully I’ll keep improving so that way I have some good content to give out. And I’ll try to make updates more regularly. 

[7r0773r]

Flights by Olga Tokarczuk, translated by Jennifer Croft

. . . I realized that—in spite or all the risks involved—a thing in motion will always be better than a thing at rest; that change will always be a nobler thing than permanence; that that which is static will degenerate and decay, turn to ash, while that which is in motion is able to last for all eternity. (p. 40)

***

My set of symptoms revolves around my being drawn to all things spoiled, flawed, defective, broken. I’m interested in whatever shape this may take, mistakes in the making of the thing, dead ends. What was supposed to develop but for some reason didn’t; or vice versa, what outstretched the design. Anything that deviates from the norm, that is too small or too big, overgrown or incomplete, monstrous and disgusting. Shapes that don’t heed symmetry, that grow exponentially, brim over, bud, or on the contrary, that scale back to the single unit. I’m not interested in the patterns so scrutinized by statistics that everyone celebrates with a familiar, satisfied smile on their faces. My weakness is for teratology and for freaks. I believe, unswervingly, agonizingly, that it is in freaks that Being breaks through to the surface and reveals its true nature. A sudden fluke disclosure. An embarrassing oops, the seam of one’s underwear from beneath a perfectly pleated skirt. The hideous metal skeleton that suddenly pops out from the velvet upholstery; the eruption of a spring from within a cushioned armchair that shamelessly debunks any illusion of softness. (p. 17)

***

Description is akin to overuse—it destroys; the colors wear off, the corners lose their definition, and in the end what’s been described begins to fade, to disappear. This applies most of all to places. Enormous damage has been done by travel literature—a veritable scourge, an epidemic. Guidebooks have conclusively ruined the greater part of the planet; published in editions numbering in the millions, in many languages, they have debilitated places, pinning them down and naming them, blurring their contours. Even I, in my youthful naiveté, once took a shot at the description of places. But when I would go back to those descriptions later, when I’d try to take a deep breath and allow their intense presence to choke me up all over again, when I’d try to listen in on their murmurings, I was always in for a shock. The truth is terrible: describing is destroying. (p. 69)

***

WHAT THE SHROUDED RUNAWAY WAS SAYING

Sway, go on, move. That’s the only way to get away from him. He who rules the world has no power over movement and knows that our body in motion is holy, and only then can you escape him, once you’ve taken off. He reigns over all that is still and frozen, everything that’s passive and inert.

So go, sway, walk, run, take flight, because the second you forget and stand still his massive hands will seize you and turn you into a puppet, you’ll be enveloped in his breath, stinking of smoke and fumes and the big rubbish dumps outside of town. He will turn your brightly colored soul into a tiny flat one, cut out of paper, of newspaper, and he will threaten you with fire, disease and war, he will scare you so you lose your peace of mind and cease to sleep. He will mark you and record you in his records, provide you with the documentation of your fall. He’ll occupy your thoughts with unimportant things, what to buy, and what to sell, where things are cheaper and where they’re more expensive. From then on you will worry over trifles - the price of petrol and how that will affect the payments on our loans. You will live every day in pain, as though your life were a sentence. But for what crime? Committed when and by whom? You will never know.

Once, long ago, the tsar tried to reform the world but he was vanquished, and the world fell right into the hands of the Antichrist. God, the real one, the good one, became an exile from the world, the vessel of divine power shattered, absorbed into the earth, disappearing into its depths. But when he spoke in a whisper from his hiding place, he was heard by one righteous man, a soldier by the name of Yefim, who paid attention to his words. In the night he threw away his rifle, took off his uniform, unwrapped his feet, and slid his boots off. He stood under the sky naked, as God had made him, and then he ran into the forest, and, donning an overcoat, he wandered from village to village, preaching the gloomy news. Flee, get out of your homes, go, run away, for only thus will you avoid the traps of the Antichrist. Any open battle with him will be lost outright. Leave whatever you possess, give up your land and get on the road.

For anything that has a stable place in this world—every country, church, every human government, everything that has preserved a form in this hell–is at his command. Everything that is defined, that spans from here to there, that fits into a framework, is written down in registers, numbered, testified to, sworn to; everything collected, displayed, labelled. Everything that holds: houses, chairs, beds, families, earth, sowing, planting, verifying growth. Planning, awaiting the results, outlining schedules, protecting order. Rear your children thus, since you had them without understanding, and set out on the road; bury your parents, who brought you into this world without understanding – and go. Get out of here, go far away, beyond the reach of his breath, beyond his cables and wires and antennas and waves, resist the measurements of his sensitive instruments.  

Whoever pauses will be petrified, whoever stops, pinned like an insect, his heart pierced by a wooden needle, his hands and feet drilled through and pinned into the threshold and the ceiling.

This is precisely how he died, Yefim, he who rebelled. He was captured and his body nailed to the cross, immobilized like an insect, on display for human and inhuman eyes, but most of all inhuman eyes, which take the most delight in all such spectacles; hardly a surprise that they repeat them every year and celebrate, praying to the corpse.

This is why tyrants of all stripes, infernal servants, have such deep-seated hatred for the nomads – this is why they persecute the Gypsies and the Jews, and why they force all free peoples to settle, assigning the addresses that serve as our sentences.

What they want is to create a frozen order, to falsify time’s passage. They want for the days to repeat themselves, unchanging, they want to build a big machine where every creature will be forced to take its place and carry out false actions. Institutions and offices, stamps, newsletters, a hierarchy, and ranks, degrees, applications and rejections, passports, numbers, cards, election results, sales and amassing points, collecting, exchanging some things for others.

What they want is to pin down the world with the aid of barcodes, labelling all things, letting it be known that everything is a commodity, that this is how much it will cost you. Let this new foreign language be illegible to humans, let it be read exclusively by automatons, machines. That way by night, in their great underground shops, they can organize readings of their own barcoded poetry.

Move. Get going. Blessed is he who leaves. (pp. 258-60)

***

This is how she understands it: life on this planet gets developed by some powerful force contained in every atom of organic matter. It’s a force there is no physical evidence of, for the time being – you can’t catch it on even the most precise microscopic images, nor in photographs of the atomic spectrum. It’s a thing that consists in bursting open, thrusting forward, in constantly going beyond what it is. That is the engine that drives changes, a blind and powerful energy. To ascribe goals or intentions to it is to misunderstand. Darwin read this energy as well as he could, but he still read it wrong. Competition shmompetition. The more experienced a biologist you become, the longer and harder you look at the complex structures and connections in the biosystem, the stronger your hunch that all animate things cooperate in this growth and bursting, supporting one another. Living organisms give themselves to one another, permit one another to make use of them. If rivalry exists, it is a localized phenomenon, an upsetting of the balance. It is true that tree branches jostle one another out of the way to reach the light, their roots collide in the race to a water source, animals eat each other, but there is in all this a kind of accord, it’s just an accord that men find frightening. It might appear that we are actors in a great bodily theatre, as though those wars we wage were merely civil wars. This – what other word to use? – lives, has a million traits and qualities, so that everything is contained within it, and there is nothing that might lie outside of it, all death is part of life, and in some sense there is no death. There are no errors. There are no guilty parties and no innocents, either, no merits, no sins, no good or evil; whoever thought up those notions led humankind astray. (pp. 286-87)

***

But children aren’t people. Children become people when they wriggle out of your arms and say “no.” (p. 349)