#the show hardly did this correctly because it was all dream visits and no REAL haunting

[greensaplinggrace]

anyways the show removed one of the best parts of the books, which was that alina was fucking haunted by the darkling. there is nothing more interesting about their relationship than his existence as a ghost inside the halls of her mind

[fantasia-monogram]

As the clock strikes midnight, part 2

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / epilogue

♥️ Taeyang x reader (nonbinary, female anatomy) x Jaeyoon; mentions of other SF9 members

♥️ NSFW (~1.7k words); a lot of sex talk and kink negotiation. Mentions of BDSM and kink. No one is 100% straight. Mentions of queerphobia.

♥️ You’re a beast at work, having to be tough to climb up the corporate ladder, but what you never thought of is that your attitude might be intimidating to your long time crush. Luckily, your much more laid back friend is here to help... both of you. Please read part 1 before this!

♥️ Disclaimer: this is just for fun! I’m not claiming that’s how they are in real life, it’s just my imagination doing whatever it wants. Read at your own discretion.

Your impromptu get-together had been going for over two hours already, and you’d loved every minute of it so far. Your motivation had been mostly spending some time with Taeyang away from the workplace, but you had to admit: your other companion’s intentions towards you weren’t clear either. You enjoyed the mystery of it all, even though it was the youngest of your trio that you had your eyes on ever since the training period started.

Well, the mystery would end there, or so you thought.

“I can’t believe I put myself in a drama-like setting, but,” Jaeyoon started, clearly down out of sudden, “That guy reviewing our results… What was his name? Inseong… I might have a bit of a crush on him.”

You stopped in the middle of bringing a cup to your lips, letting your hand holding the latte hang awkwardly in the air. With the corner of your eye, you could see Taeyang doing the same.

“Come on, don’t tell me that you’re…” Jaeyoon whined, shaking his head.

“No, hear me out,” you interrupted. Before you spoke again, you cautiously looked left and right to make sure no one else was listening. Only then, you continued with a hushed voice. “You know, it drives me crazy whenever they call me a she in those international reports. I’m non-binary, I prefer neutral pronouns. I don’t really have to worry about it on a daily basis, until English rolls in and makes me cringe.”

Your friend leaned closer to you.

“Not like I didn’t notice,” he concluded. A wide grin was back on his face. “Do you like boys, though?”

You could tell he was just joking, given his usual flirty attitude, and you didn’t have to answer at all. However, since you started confessing already, you figured you could take it seriously.

“I do, actually!” You nodded, smiling lightly.

You couldn’t believe you could talk about it openly like that.

“Oh, I don’t discriminate, I fuck everybody,” Jaeyoon replied in a seemingly playful tone, although being serious as well, “But right now? My heart belongs to the Quality Department leader.” He finished with a hand on his chest.

You both laughed wholeheartedly, until you noticed Taeyang was silent this entire time. Jaeyoon turned his eyes towards him, with you following shortly.

“What about you?” Jaeyoon asked boldly.

A look of slight panic flashed through Taeyang’s face, and you’d think it’s adorable if not for the crushing possibility of him having objections towards who you were - now that he knew, it could have changed anything.

You really didn’t want to have your heart broken after mere four weeks since starting a new job.

“I… I like g…” Taeyang stuttered, his gaze briefly catching yours. He held tight onto his cup of coffee and looked away, blushing profusely. “People with vaginas.”

“No way!” Jaeyoon exclaimed. Fortunately, he remembered the topic of your conversation and immediately toned it back down. “I’m sorry, I’d have never clocked you as straight.”

“Hey, stop it!” You smacked his bicep, earning an exaggerated wince from him.

Taeyang rolled his eyes and sighed deeply.

“It’s fine,” he stated, putting on a regretful expression. “I get that a lot. I tried everything, but that’s my final verdict for now.”

Jaeyoon kept making inappropriate jokes despite your earlier protest, but you would be lying if you said you were listening to him. Your eyes were glued on Taeyang, even though he was way too busy deflecting your other friend’s silly remarks to pay attention to you.

*

It wasn't the first time Jaeyoon and Taeyang have visited your place; they've been there numerous times before, together and separately. 

It was the first time, however, when they entered the apartment with all three of you feeling equally horny and not even trying to hide it. 

It couldn't have been caused by the alcohol, because you haven't had any, Taeyang only had a couple sugary drinks, and Jaeyoon got completely sober as soon as the words fun night were mentioned. Nothing had been explicitly stated, but all of you - always having been open not just about your sexual identity and orientation, but also your specific attitudes towards sex in general - have reached an unspoken agreement: everyone was getting off tonight, this way or another.

You quickly decided to take turns using the bathroom. When it was Jaeyoon's turn to shower, you were left alone with Taeyang. It was a bit awkward at first, considering his confession from earlier that you barely replied to. As soon as he sat on a sofa in the living room - smelling clean, fresh glow on his face - you took a place beside him, wearing your black satin pajamas already.

Taeyang leaned back and smiled at you blissfully. Only then, he took your hand in his; after holding it for a good minute, he intertwined your fingers.

"I'm so happy," he whispered. 

You really wished to answer in a coherent way, yet you couldn't possibly focus enough to be your usual, collected self - not when you finally had your long-time crush next to you, shirtless, lightly toned muscles and sharp outline of ribs on display.

Maybe you didn't want to shock him by showing this side of yourself so easily, but it was impossible at this point; your prettiest, prettiest boy was here, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the entire universe, making your heart swell with love and desire just by that. 

Not used to being so overwhelmed with emotions, you just stared back at him wide-eyed.

"Sheesh, don't tell me you started without me!" 

Jaeyoon appeared in the doorway, hair still wet and adorably curled without usual styling - a contrast to his impressive physique in nearly full glory since he, as opposed to the more reserved Taeyang, decided to step out of the bathroom wearing only boxer briefs. 

It's not like you hadn't seen him like this before, as you'd go to the pool together many times over the past few years (Taeyang always refused the invitation, even though he claimed to be a pro at swimming and even bragged about gold and silver medals he won in national competitions during high school). Yet somehow, this time, the sight hit differently, since you knew what was about to happen. 

"No way," you chuckled; Taeyang let go of your hand, which made your mood deflate a little. "Mind if we eat something first?" 

Everyone was starving after the boring company party, so you all moved to the kitchen. You couldn't hide your amusement over how the apartment looked like a dollhouse when trying to contain not just you, but also two grown men. You gave up on relationships ages ago, so when looking for a place to rent, you had only your own comfort in mind.

"Okay, first of all," you started when everyone was finished with their meal, "Are we all safe? While I was still in the dating game, I was always monogamous and did regular checkups. I haven't had any partners for the past four years." 

You cringed internally saying it out loud, but transparency was your number one priority. 

"I never do anything without a condom," Jaeyoon stated. 

As usual, Taeyang took a while before taking part in risky conversations.

"I do BDSM, but it hardly ever involved actual sex." 

"I can confirm that." Jaeyoon smiled smugly, propping his chin on his hand. 

Your eyes went comically wide at the implication. 

"Wait, what did I miss?! I thought you liked, in your words, people with vaginas?" You gasped, blood rushing to your cheeks. 

Taeyang's face turned equally red, except he decided to cover it with his hand. 

"Y/n, dear, he said that three and a half years ago," your friend explained. 

"Jaeyoon hyung had his part in my awakening as a submissive," Taeyang added, finally daring to look at you, "There was nothing sexual about it." 

"Except for the fact I watched you jerk off," the hyung in question clarified. 

"HEY!" The other guy got flushed again. 

You swallowed heavily, feeling your throat get dry all of sudden. Oh my God. You could barely sit still at this point. 

"We both like to watch," Jaeyoon concluded casually. 

"So… Wait a minute," you picked up, your head spinning from the information overload, "If I understand it correctly: Taeyang, you're a sub. Jaeyoon, we're both Doms."

The guys nodded in unison. 

"We're all into voyeurism."

Again, they confirmed with a single nod. 

"I can't believe. This is too good to be true," you said weakly, shaking your head with disbelief. 

"I have an idea," the older of your colleagues continued, "I don't wanna get too much inbetween you two."

Suddenly, Taeyang squeezed your hand under the table in a way that was borderline possessive. 

"But since it's supposed to be enjoyable for all of us… I could get a bit touchy with Y/n… I suppose watching us would be enough to get Taeyangie ready, am I right?" 

Taeyang looked to the side, his expression serious, but his body language unable to hide the excitement. 

"Humiliate me a little and I'll be fine," he muttered under his breath.

He squeezed your hand even harder. You smiled at the feeling. 

"I have one request for you," you turned to Jaeyoon, "No kissing on the lips, no hands in each other's underwear."

"I'm okay with that," he shrugged.

"You sure?" Taeyang asked. 

"No worries, just focus on yourself," the older guy chuckled, "I'll take care of myself while watching you two have fun." 

Was it happening for real? You felt like you were dreaming.

Taeyang brought you back to reality by bringing your linked hands to rest on his thigh. 

"Do we… go all the way?" He inquired in a shy tone. 

You took your time to inhale and exhale deeply before collecting yourself enough to answer. 

"Yeah, we do."

(to be continued)

[relaxxattack]

ayo! (wait this might be a bit of a jumpscare dishdks i apologize) i’m op of That Post and was wondering what your opinions were on the whole woobification thing? /gen

because it’s a Tiny Bit widespread within the dream apologists to sort of,, overdramatize stuff like l’manberg hurting him. like they’re not a 100% wrong but if you look at it subjectively you can see some sort of bias going into that sort of thing that makes the character’s mistreatment a bit more blatant and intentional which,, it really wasn’t? and there wasn’t That Much of it either. especially on twitter (tumblr is much better about it) people just jump to conclusions it seems and yeah. since you brought it up i was wondering if you wanted to write a bit about it from your perspective!

we’re kinda from different corners of the fandom but i still notice that once you are too attached to a character you start taking certain evidence and giving it more weight than it actually has. there’s a blurry line between “taking away a character’s humanity” and woobification and it’s extremely difficult to find a balance when said character shows pretty much nothing of his emotional life (e. g. putting up the intimidating villain act in front of only c!tommy, pretty much everything he does making rational sense with no emotional subtext) and a lot of the fandom instantly jumps to one side or the other while it’s like.

we don’t know by far enough to say “he’s traumatized” or “he isn’t traumatized” or “he was villainized and it hurt him” or “l’manberg didn’t affect him at all”

as a very analytical person people constantly jumping to conclusions grinds my gears, but that’s about it for my own view of the situation - sorry for the rambling.

in general i agree with you that both dehumanization and woobification is Bad and i really hope getting Actual Context sorts this out (e. g. him saying he was betrayed by his friends doesn’t mean it wasn’t partially his fault or that they were allowed to leave him, but it also shows that he did care about that happening. mentioning the cat doesn’t mean anything about what happened to c!tommy but it also shows that he did care about what happened to it. it’s just always interesting to get more information about the way he feels because he usually does a very good job at hiding it.) because man.

it’s like being stuck between a rock and a hard place, especially if you also are attached to the character and are expected to automatically agree with everything the people on “your side” say. it just ends up with everyone being mad and the character being mischaracterised overall.

oh wow hello! i didnt expect the op of the post to find me you’re right lol

and yes i agree! you seem to have a lot of very good thoughts tbh.

and by woobification, i mean exactly what you’ve already pointed out— the people who will say l’manberg purposely villainized dream, the people who will say wilbur faked his mental illness to manipulate dream, the people who are pretty much always talking about how badly dream was treated by people who were acting only fairly for themselves, usually.

for example people who act like dream was a perfect peacemaker before tommy showed up, or that tommy started most conflict. these are just actual lies that are told by c!dream himself to justify his abuse of tommy, and people fall for them incredibly easily because not a lot of people watched early dsmp and know that truthfully it was chaotic even then, and that dream was chaotic too. not to mention wilbur soot tried very hard to secede peacefully with l’manberg and dream jumped directly into war with no warning. and then people say he was forced into their war when, no, he started it.

theres also people who will say like, dream and sapnap for example are such good friends. i’m sure they cared for each other, but dream on multiple occasions has done horrible things to sapnap with no regard for his feelings (like leading fundy to sapnaps pets during the petwar, leading tommy to sapnaps pets during the other petwar and encouraging him to kill them, handing mars over to tommy to use as leverage against sapnap, etc). george he’s been less awful too but he certainly spoke over him and ignored his feelings enough that george felt hurt. he had places in his hall of attachments for beckerson and mars. george and sapnap were right to walk away from being treated like that.

there’s also what you just said here — “dream puts on a villain persona for tommy”— but honestly he acts like that around quite a few people (example: eret) and it’s usually when he’s revealing crucial info, which leads me and many others to believe that ‘persona’ is actually a more truthful version of him.

there’s the fact that he really isn’t safe for people to be around (or at least he wasn't before the prison) because he was planning to come up with ways to control every single person by stealing and threatening their attachments (some of which were not items but were living animals, or a real breathing person).

and then people will say dream was doing exile to enforce rules, or to keep the peace— when it’s very clear in canon it was a deliberate plan to get tommy on his own and into the prison. (from the way he was framing tommy for multiple crimes, and having sam set up the prison, and kidnapping tommy instead of correctly exiling him, all at the same time).

not even going into how he wants to kill and revive people for fun or make tommy immortal.

it’s just— ignoring all these actual facts and saying “oh he misses his friends, let’s get him some friends now” reminds me of like. when people would put flower crowns on pictures of serial killers. and then, there’s hardly anyone on the server who wasn’t subject to dream’s plans, so there’s absolutely no one i would be okay with him interacting with.

just remembered about the torture thing, and wow i still hate it so much. it’s someone’s sick revenge fantasy twisted into a way to get a manipulative villain sympathy, and it’s just gross to me on every account. i do think dream is traumatized-- just not by l’manberg, which was a conflict he started on his own terms. i would think l’manberg did affect him, because he was scared of losing control.

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again— my ideal ending for dream would be for him to be sent far away from dsmp to an island full of therapy animals and super strong therapists who have never met him before. and for him to get a shit ton of therapy until he becomes a halfway normal person. and then eventually he could get integrated into society again; but a different one with new people. (although maybe dteam + bbh + puffy can visit him, they might still like him.)

none of the people on the server (who have all been affected by dream) should be burdened with befriending him or rehabilitating him— look how that turned out with sam! sam had a personal grudge towards dream and it ended with the poor dude being tortured every day; and sam himself falling into corruption and literally cutting off his boyfriends arm. like we can all see thats fucking awful right?

no one who was affected by dream should have to deal with him ever again. and contrary to popular belief, that includes a LOT more people then just tommy. dream isn’t just tommy’s antagonist, hes almost everybody’s.

the only person on the server who might also be able to stand to help dream is techno, and that’s from sheer lack of ability to give a shit. but techno is probably THE furthest thing from a good therapist there is lol, and dream needs better then that.

this kind of just ended up being a rant about my thoughts on c!dream, so im so sorry op. especially since it was probably negative for you. i hope you’re doing very well.

i guess in the end it’s true what you said— people will highlight or ignore things based on what characters they like, and it’s especially easy to do in this fandom, where half the content doesn’t even get watched and then we become a big echo chamber of half-truths.

considering dream has hurt so many of the characters i care about, i almost can’t understand how he could be someone’s favorite or comfort character— but he is nonetheless, and it would be unfair of me to be rude about that.

essentially it just bothers me to see someone who was a perpetrator of accurately portrayed abuse and manipulation (using both those words in their actual definitions, not just as random buzzwords lol) being given the flower crown edit effect. especially since he’s hurt the characters i care about a lot.

ANYWAY all of that being said (this got LONG im so sorry op) i am so so excited to get dream’s pov, because although i disagree with his actions strongly i actually find dream’s character very interesting and cool, and watching his POV is going to insanely fun. i cannot wait to see what theories get confirmed or denied

ALSO incase it wasn’t clear this is all /nm at you! you seem lovely and smart, and neither of us can help what characters we get attached to :]

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Guiding Stars

Ezra x Reader

Words: 3653

Summary: After nearly three years of surviving on that shithole planet, Ezra escapes with Cee and the two journey to the planet he once called home in hopes of starting a new life. You have been living in hope that one day, the man you love will come home despite everyone telling you to move on. When Ezra shows up at your door with a teenage girl and one arm, both of you wonder just how much has changed. 

Notes: Again, I’m writing for a bunch of Pedro characters, so please please please leave a review or send in a message to let me know what you all think of them! Also, I just really love the idea of mixing Ezra with Wicked Game by Chris Isaak, so there’s one in here.

-

“Do you want to lock up, or should I?” Your coworker, Ella, drew you out of your thoughts. Your eyes were trained up at the sky, studying the glittering stars above. It was a critical part of your nightly routine. Every night, before you closed down the shop, you looked up at the sky. Your apartment didn’t have any windows, so it was your only chance to just take in the vastness of space above you. 

“I’ll get it, thanks El.” You came away from the window just as a ship passed overhead. The robotic repair store that you worked at had had a busy day and you were relieved to be heading home. You punched in the lock code and waited for that familiar click before you hoped on your ratty old hover-bike and rode home. 

The city was dirty and the air was filled with smog, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave, even now that you had made a little more money. You had every opportunity to get on a shuttle and fly off to some new and exciting planet, but you remained in your tiny apartment on that sad little lump of rock just as you had for nearly a decade. Many of your friends had moved off, started families, continued their lives. They all asked you the same question whenever they visited. 

“Why don’t you get out of that place? You have so much potential.”

You gave them all the same answer. If you left, he wouldn’t be able to find you. 

You slid your key-card through the slot and your apartment door squeaked open. It was dark and barely big enough for one person even though it once housed two. You cleaned off the grease from your hands and arms and broke off a piece of stale bread for dinner. It didn’t matter whether or not the shop was bringing in more money; real food was a luxury anywhere on the planet. 

You sat in the dark, the obnoxious glow of artificial lighting giving you a headache.You said your prayers, though you could hardly remember who or what you prayed to anymore. Whoever could bring him home. 

 You would hold out for one more day, you told yourself. Tomorrow, you would pack up and get off this shitty excuse of a planet and make a name for yourself. Somewhere sunny. Somewhere with real, living trees, not the plastic imposters that lined the city streets. You couldn’t count the amount of times you’d promised yourself that. Every night, probably. You knew you would never leave. You couldn’t. 

They had told you he was dead. That he got sick on that godforsaken green planet and that they had to leave his body behind because it was ‘contaminated’. They told you to move on. Everyone else that had known him did. All of his friends mourned him for a few weeks and then went on with their lives, most of them moving away. But his crew all had a look of guilt. Even without their lying eyes, you felt in your soul that he was out there, somewhere, trying to get back to you by the hands of the guiding stars. 

You hadn’t seen him in four years, but sometimes, when you were stuck in that place between awake and dreaming, you could feel his arms slip around you. You could feel the bed shift with his weight. And you could feel his lips graze yours just before you finally fell asleep. 

-

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Cee huffed, looking up at the shabby sign. Ezra blew out a breath. 

“This is the one.” He recognized the chipped paint and the smell of burning metal from the smelting works down the street. Mel’s Robotics. He’d been back here many times in his dreams while he was stuck on that planet. Cee wrinkled her nose and he chuckled. “If you wish for better accommodations, Little Bird,  you are free to search for it yourself.” His sweet drawl in his voice had annoyed her when they first met, but  she had grown used to it, finding it almost comforting. “That apartment building should be just around the corner.” 

While the air was polluted and smelled of smoke, he couldn’t help but revel in the sensation of walking outside without a cumbersome suit inhibiting his every move. He felt free for the first time in three years. 

“You seem cheery.” Cee noted with feigned annoyance. She was just as happy to be off that planet as he was. “Who is this woman anyway? How do you know she’s even still here?” Ezra sighed. 

“I don’t.” 

The two entered the apartment complex wearily, Cee checking around every corner they turned. She shook her head at her own paranoia. This was a residential planet. Disgusting and over populated, but residential. There were no monsters or toxic particles in the air here, unless you counted the smog. But hey, at least she wouldn’t have to cut off any more arms. 

He led her up a flight of stairs, searching for door number 416. As soon as he found it, he pulled on the chain around his neck, revealing a small metal key. Cee pointed at the card reader next to the door.

“I think you’ve got the wrong kind of key.” Ezra chuckled. 

“It would appear so, little bird, but you see, when I lived here, I used this,” He held up the old-fashioned key, it’s teeth glistening in the light. He’d kept it in pristine conditioning, hoping that he would have a home to return to one day. “I never was very skilled with technology, so my lovely partner had this put in for me.” He pressed a notch on the knob of the door and a piece of metal slid away, revealing a lock. 

Ezra put the key in, but stopped before he turned it, the impact of the situation suddenly hitting him. What if you weren’t here? What if you were here and you didn’t want to see him? What if you had forgotten about him? 

“What are you waiting for?” Cee asked, a slight trace of fear in her voice. Was something wrong? Ezra closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath and turned the key. 

It was as if he was stepping into one of his dreams. Everything looked the same. The same beat-up leather sofa. The same smell of ink from your blueprints and the earthy aroma of your favorite tea. For a moment, he thought he would cry, falling to the floor of the home he’d been desperately trying to get back to for four years. Cee could see his emotional state and didn’t say anything for a while, letting him drink in the memory. She was almost jealous. She never really had a home to miss. 

“It doesn’t look like she’s here.” Cee noted after he started to roam around. He stopped in front of a shelf, picking up an old photo. It was taken the night that they had moved in together. A group of friends had surprised the two of you with a party and snapped the photo as he carried you in, bridal style. 

“She stayed.” He whispered to himself almost in disbelief. He didn’t notice that Cee was next to him. 

“You look happy.” Cee gave him a half smile, examining the photo over his shoulder. He quickly put the frame back on the shelf. 

“She should be back soon. If I remember correctly, and I believe I do, the shop isn’t open on weekends.” He motioned for her to sit on the worn-out sofa. He should have felt awkward, waiting around on the couch for her to come home. But it was his home too.  Besides, he’s the one that bought the damn thing. He didn’t think his heart would ever stop beating so fast until he heard the door open and it stopped all together. 

You had seen him so many times in your dreams that you didn’t even stop when you saw him out of the corner of your eye. You went straight to the small kitchen to put away a few groceries. It wasn’t until you turned around, seeing him standing there looking at you with those big brown eyes that you could have sworn were filled with tears. 

“Hello my Dove,” He greeted, his voice catching in his throat. He never thought he would get to call you that again. You never thought you’d hear it. You slowly stepped towards him, worried that if you moved too fast he would vanish. 

“E-Ezra?” You felt like all of the air had left your body and only he could give it back. “T-this is…. Am I dreaming?” You weren’t sure if you could handle waking up to an empty room again. Ezra chuckled, a single tear spilling over as he shook his head. 

“No, sweetheart,” He stepped towards you and placed his hand on your cheek. Just feeling his rough, warm skin made your heart leap. “I’m here.” 

You weren’t sure which happened first; throwing your arms around his neck and nearly tackling him in a hug or the endless amount of tears that poured down your face as you cried into his chest. His hand cradled the back of your head and he wished that he could hold you properly. But you didn't even notice. 

“I knew it.” You sobbed. “I knew you weren’t dead. They all told me to leave, but I knew that you would come back to me.” When you pulled away so you could look at that face you’d longed to see for four years, you noticed his injury. His right arm was gone, the empty sleeve of his shirt hanging loosely by his side. Ezra knew what you were looking at and was suddenly uncomfortable. 

“It’s a long story.” He muttered. You collected your thoughts, thousands of questions swimming around in your head, and you took his face in your hands. 

“It doesn’t matter.” You beamed. “The only thing that matters is that you're here.” You pulled his face down to yours, colliding your lips together. Your body ignited. It felt like this was the first breath you’d taken in the last four years. Ezra was sure that he had been dead up until this moment and you brought him back to life with the soft touch of your lips. It wasn’t until he felt the annoyed tap on his shoulder that he pulled away. 

“Oh, one more thing.” He stepped aside to reveal a young girl standing behind him. “This is Cee.” 

“Hi.” She greeted awkwardly, her arms crossed over her chest as she tried to read your expression. “I guess I’m part of the long story.” 

“Don’t be modest now.” He smirked. “I wouldn’t have made it off of the Green without her.” If it wasn’t for her, he would still have an arm, Cee thought. You smiled at her brighter than anyone had ever smiled at her before. 

“Thank you.” 

Cee felt an odd, warm feeling in her chest and Ezra could have sworn he saw a small smile grace her lips. He cleared his throat and turned back to you. 

“Now, I know it’s quite a lot to ask, but I was hoping that I may take residence here again. And Cee would be with us too, if that’s alright.” They had talked about her staying with him on the journey here. Seeing as she didn’t really have many options, she said if they could make it without killing each other that she would give it a chance. You shook your head with a laugh, running your hands through his hair, curling that blonde streak around your finger. 

“This is your home, Ezra. Always and forever.” You pressed a gentler kiss to his lips before looking at Cee. “And please stay. This apartment is small, but I’d be more than willing to make room for you.”

“That would be very nice.” Cee said as politely as she knew how. She wasn’t used to people being so kind to her. Hell, she wasn’t sure how someone like you could put up with Ezra, but she was glad that you did. You put a hand on her shoulder and ushered them both into the kitchen. 

“Come on, I’ll fix us some dinner.” 

-

For the next few days, the sun shined a little brighter every morning and the stars glittered more each night. It was as if Ezra was all the light you ever needed. And Cee was wonderful. She became interested in the shop after a few visits and asked if she could help out. You were more than happy to have her join you and Ella loved her too. You started a special project while Ella showed her the ropes of the robotics business. Everything was perfect… until it wasn’t. 

It wasn’t until you came home late with Cee from the shop that you realized that Ezra wasn’t the same. Sure, he was your sweet and loving Ezra with that sexy southern drawl. But he was also the Ezra that was stuck in the Green for four years, alone except for the mute creature he kept for company. 

“You didn’t tell me you were going to be late.” He whispered, sitting on the couch and staring at the wall.  

“Yeah, sorry, we just got caught up in some work.” You laughed, draping an arm around the younger girl’s shoulders. You put down the large case containing your work. “Cee’s got real talent.” 

“I don’t like not being informed of your extended absence.” Usually his well-though wording turned you on, but when he finally turned his head to look at you, his eyes were dark. “I’ve been sitting here, worrying about you for a long while now.” 

“I’m sorry, honey.” You walked towards him, a confused and nervous smile tugging at your lips, hoping to calm him down. His whole body was tense, like stuck gears about to break. “Ezra, what’s wrong?” 

“What’s wrong?” He scoffed. “I have been pacing here for hours not knowing when the two of you would be coming back.” He stood up and loomed over you, his eyes glaring and his mouth in a snarl. “I’m not a patient man, Y/N. You know this. Waitin leads to worryin and you know how I get when I worry!” His voice was a booming growl now and his face was inches from yours. 

It only took him a moment to come back. When the green faded in his mind, he saw only the frightened look in your eyes. He hadn’t realized that his hand was gripping your arm. You tried not to show how much his tight hold hurt. Ezra’s face immediately softened and he dropped his hand to his side. 

“You can put that down little bird.” He sighed, not taking his eyes off of you. Cee put down the screwdriver she had been holding, ready to attack if he did something to you.

“Ezra…” You stepped away from him, backing towards your room. 

“Sweetheart, I-”

“Maybe you should sleep out here tonight.” You said, more of a demand than a suggestion. You knew that he would never hurt you. Of course he would never hurt you. But Ezra was different.

 His shoulders slumped a little and he looked at the floor. 

“No, of course.” His defeated expression nearly broke your heart. He mustered a small smile. “My apologies, ladies. I hope you both sleep well.” As calm as he tried to appear, his heart was pounding in his ears. 

Cee went into her room while you lingered in the doorway of your own, watching Ezra grab an old quilt and lie down on the couch. You just needed some time to think. You could feel his sad gaze upon you as you closed the door. 

-

You had grown so used to the silence of an empty home that almost any noise in the night woke you up. The sound of quiet, painful groans and mutterings stirred you from your sleep. You opened your door as silently as possible, peaking out into the living room. Ezra was still asleep, but he was thrashing back and forth, his face contorted with fear. 

“I have to get back…” He whispered, his voice filled with suffering. “I have to get back to her…” 

“Ezra?” You said softly, walking towards him. 

“No.” He winced. Whatever was haunting him was getting worse. “I have to get out. I have to get out!” His whispers had turned to terrified screams and you couldn’t bear it any longer. 

“Ezra, baby, wake up.” You put a hand on his cheek, hoping that your gentle touch could soothe him, but he kept fighting. His hand clutched his chest and you saw the angry red scar. 

“I’m going to die here.” He cried, his voice cracking. “I’m going to die.” 

“Ezra, you aren’t there anymore. You’re safe. You’re with me.” You shook him and he shot up, breathing heavily as his eyes adjusted to the dark living room. You ran your hand up and down his back. 

“I’m not there.” He said in between pants, his eyes frantically scanning the room for whatever villain plagued his dream. “I’m not there.” 

“You’re home, Ezra.” You couldn’t help the tears that fell. Seeing him so afraid tore at your heart. 

“Home,” He slowly turned his body around so that he was facing you. A small, crooked smile formed on his lips. “That’s right. Home.” You pulled him to you, resting his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“What happened to you out there?” You whispered, more of a sad statement than a question. You wished that you could soothe every bad memory from his mind, but you knew that you couldn’t erase the past four years. He held onto you as tightly as he could and you were reminded of what you and Cee had been working on for the past few days. 

You stood up slowly, grabbing his hand. 

“I have something for you.” You guided him to the case that you had set on the kitchen counter and you unlocked the mechanisms. Inside, was a long, robotic arm. “I don’t know if it’s something that you want. I don’t want to pressure you or anything, I just thought it would be nice to give you something. It was actually Cee’s idea.” 

Ezra examined the device with a look of awe. You lifted it out of the case and showed him how it worked. 

“You wouldn’t even need an operation. You just strap it on and this,” You held up a small neurotransmitter that would adhere to the back of his neck, “Would be able to transmit your brainwaves to the device, making it function like a regular limb.” 

He didn’t know what to say. He knew that you were brilliant at what you did, but this was beyond what he could have imagined. All he could do was smile and you bit your lip nervously. 

“Do you want to try it?” 

He nodded and sat down, allowing you to work. You fastened the straps so that it rested comfortably against his side. Then you put on the transmitter. Looking to him for permission and receiving it, you finished prepping the device. 

“Is it… working?” He asked, raising a brow. You sucked in a breath. 

“You tell me.” You started to walk, but your foot caught on the leg of the chair. Before you could fall, you felt his hand grab your arm. His right hand. 

“Incredible.” He gasped, tears springing to his eyes. He didn’t fight them. Instead, he let you kiss them off of his cheeks, leading him back into the living room. 

“Do you like it?” 

“Do I like it?” He lifted you up into the air, twirling you around and looking at you like you were the sun. He set you down again and crossed the room to the small music-device in the corner. “Well, my dove, it’ll make it a whole lot easier to do this.” He pressed a few buttons and that familiar guitar intro. As the song began to play, he walked back towards you, his movements steady and invited. 

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you

“Our song.” You grinned. It was the song that had played when you met. He had played it when you moved in together. And now it played when you found each other again. He took you into his arms, the cool metal of the robotic arm pressing against your skin. You didn’t mind. It felt nice in contrast to the hot air around you. 

The two of you began to sway, dancing slowly in the warmth of each other’s embrace. You were sure that you had died and this is what your heaven was. Ezra forever, his lips never leaving your own. 

“What a wicked thing to do.” He whispered in your ear along with the lyrics. His lips grazed your ear. “To make me dream of you.” You brought his face to yours for a deep and passionate kiss, stilling dancing in the middle of the living room. 

Cee smiled slightly as she peaked from her room. She had forgotten what it was like to see two people love each other, if she even knew to begin with. She quietly closed her door again and went back to bed, leaving the two of you to enjoy your moment. 

In the following weeks, the three of you decided to move off of that lump of rock and search for a better place. But you knew that it didn’t really matter. Wherever you ended up, as long as you were with Ezra, and now Cee, you knew that you would be home.

@rae-gar-targaryen​; @jnniferjreau​; @ladamari68​; @libellule2001​; @c-ly-g​; @themandjalorian​; @pascalisthepunkest

[anicalewis]

Queer Eye for the Opera Ghost

We just rewatched The Phantom of the Opera, and it looks like I’m doing this again.

Karamo: Okay, guys, special treat today: we are heading all the way to PARIS!

*all cheer*

Jonathan: OMG, I love France!

Tan: And I love you, too. *laughs at collective groan* But seriously, I am excited to visit the birthplace of the French tuck.

Antoni: I don’t know if you guys know this, but French food is good. Like, really good. Like, you hardly even need to add avocados to it, it’s so good.

Karamo: We’re going to be meeting Erik. He’s a composer, but he also has a background in architecture. In his spare time, he does free music tutoring for an orphan girl.

Jonathan: *high-pitched squeal of emotion*

Karamo: Erik was nominated by his friend, Madame Giry.

Madame Giry: Erik is brilliant. A genius, truly. But he doesn’t do well with people. He lacks confidence about his appearance, and I think he could stand to get out more. He wants to see his music performed, but I think the way he’s going about that – threats, kidnapping, and passive-aggressive notes – is not going to get him the results he’s hoping for.

Karamo: Okay, that is a lot. Also, did she furtively mutter something at the end there? Something that sounded weirdly like murder?

Tan: *flipping through papers* Apparently that was never proven? Might have been an accident?

Karamo: . . .

Karamo: Okay, right, so! At the end of the week, Erik’s opera is going to be performed. This is a longtime dream of his, so it’s a really big deal.

Jonathan: Ooh, yay Erik!

Bobby: *studying file* Um, am I reading this correctly? He lives in an opera house?

Tan: Oh, cool, like a converted opera house?

Karamo: Not exactly.

*Fab Five pull up in front of the Palais Garnier opera house*

Madame Giry: Hello! Thank you for coming! I will show you how to get to Erik’s . . . let us say, “apartment.”

Jonathan: Okay, this is a lot of, just, darkness? What’s happening there?

Bobby: *pulls out industrial flashlight* I got it. *shines flashlight around* Looks like the place has some good bones, although I am concerned about what looks like a pretty serious flooding situation down there.

Madame Giry: Keep going in this direction. Erik will meet you with the boat.

Tan: I’m sorry, the what?

Madame Giry: You may want to keep your hand at the level of your eyes. Just to be safe.

Karamo: What?

Madame Giry: I go no further! *rushes away*

*Erik glides over on a gondola lit with candles*

Erik: Honored guests! I had so hoped you would come.

Jonathan: Oh my gosh, look at you! All European and swoony with your boat and your candles! Who gave you permission?!

*Fab Five crowd onto gondola*

Karamo: You must be Erik! I’m Karamo. *bear hugs Erik*

Erik: *frozen*

Jonathan: Honey? You okay?

Erik: Was that . . . is that what it is to be hugged? *shakes it off* Ahem. This way. Welcome to my lair.

Tan: Did you just say “lair?”

Karamo: *looks into the camera with wide-eyed alarm*

Bobby: Yeah, that checks out. This is very lair-style architecture.

Antoni: Where’s your kitchen?

Jonathan: And your bathroom?

Tan: And your closet?

Karamo: The blank look you’re giving us tells me we have some work to do. All right, team, hands in!

 DAY ONE: LIVING IN THE BASEMENT

Tan: I am loving the drama of your wardrobe. *to camera* Erik is a guy who knows that you don’t have to wait for a special occasion to wear a statement piece. Like that mask! That said, he could stand to shake things up a little bit, so we’re going to work on that.

Jonathan: Okay, you sexy subterranean music man, tell me about your skincare routine. You wear sunscreen, right?

Erik: I have literally never been outside during the day.

Jonathan: Hey, whatever floats your romantic little candlelit boat. No judgment. Can I touch your hair right now?

Erik: No.

Antoni: I can’t find any form of kitchen down here. Where do you keep your food?

Bobby: *to camera* This is tough. My instinct is to bring in a bunch of houseplants, but Erik’s home is very low on natural light. I’ll need to give this some thought.

Karamo: Okay, Erik, let’s talk about you. What brought you to where you are now?

Erik: A traveling circus that kept me in a cage.

Karamo: . . . I am going to have to sit with that for a minute, honestly.

Antoni: Still wondering about the apparent lack of food and food prep areas down here. Erik, you aren’t, like, living off rats, are you?

Bobby: And what’s over . . . oh, another secret passageway. That seems to be a real theme here. Big on secret passageways, not so big on adequate lighting.

Jonathan: *to camera* I think our new friend Erik might be a little self-conscious about his face, based on how he wears a mask all the time and had kind of a teeny-tiny rage-seizure when I asked if he would take it off? I want to help, but I can’t do that if he’s not going to let me see his gorgeous face!

Antoni: Taking another tack, Erik, if you DID eat rats, where would you be cooking them?

Karamo: I’m back. All right. So, let’s maybe start with something positive, Erik. What’s something about you that you’re proud of?

Erik: I am a musical genius.

Karamo: Love that confidence! Will you sing us something?

*Fab Five cheer and chant Erik’s name until Erik launches into “Music of the Night.” Everyone freezes and gapes at him until the last notes fade.*

Bobby: Oh

Tan: Oh my

Antoni: *weeping*

Karamo: Is . . . is there an orchestra down here? Did anyone else hear an entire orchestra start playing just now?

Erik: *to Jonathan* Why are you on my lap?

Jonathan: Shh. We’re dating now.

Karamo: Okay, we do have some issues to figure out here, but Erik also has immense talent and charisma when he sings, as well as possibly magical powers? Anyway, he’s clearly a diamond in the rough. So let’s get polishing!

*Fab Five dance break*

 DAY TWO: OUI QUEEN

Tan: I love that you have a signature accessory. That’s great. Have you thought about playing around with color a little more?

Erik: You know, I do like red, but I worry that colors other than black would affect my ability to lurk unseen in the shadows.

Tan: Oh, do you do some behind-the-scenes stuff at the opera house? Where you have to work without people seeing you?

Erik: Exactly.

Tan: All right, I’ll see what I can do.

Karamo: Erik. I have in my hand some notes. Notes that I believe you delivered to various people working in the opera house. Is that right?

Erik: . . . Yes.

Karamo: Look, I applaud the attention to detail. Not a lot of people take the time to write notes anymore, let alone to make them rhyme.

Erik: Thank you. I feel like no one really appreciates the effort I put in.

Karamo: Oh, yeah, I see you, man, I see you. But I’ve gotta say, the tone these take is not making you sound your best. You’re coming off pushy, to be honest. Even threatening. Do you think that’s a good way to get what you want?

Erik: It’s worked pretty well so far.

Karamo: *deep inhale*

Bobby: How attached are you to this lake? Because I can tell you right now, your usable square footage goes up a lot if we drain it.

Antoni: Good news! There’s a marketplace just a short walk from here that has just incredible produce. And the cheese! *chef’s kiss* The bread!

Erik: I do not leave the opera house during the day.

Antoni: How firm a rule is that? Because –

Erik: I said no! *loud, angry organ chord plays from apparently nowhere*

Antoni: Gotcha. I will look into delivery options.

Karamo: Tell me about your pupil, Christine.

Erik: Christine is an exquisite singer, in large part due to my teaching. With my guidance, she will continue to improve until, through her, my brilliance dazzles the world.

Karamo: Is that arrangement working well for both of you?

Erik: . . . What do you mean?

Karamo: Just checking that you two have an appropriate teacher-student relationship built on mutual respect and honesty, working toward a clear common goal, all that good stuff.

Erik: . . . I just need her and everyone else to do what I say.

Karamo: Okay, pull up a chair, because we are going to sit down and have a TALK about this.

Bobby: Where do you get all these candles? Are you making them here? Do you have a massive standing order with a lighting store of some kind?

Tan: I’ve noticed that you like a cape. I approve; it’s a great silhouette. But you have to balance it by going skinny on the bottom. I got you these slim-fitting trousers. What do you think?

Erik: Ooh, look at my legs!

Tan: EXACTLY.

Antoni: *to camera* When it comes to putting food on the table, it’s important to meet people where they are. Luckily, where Erik is happens to be freaking Paris, and he has a generous salary. So I’m just helping him set up some regular delivery orders with local food vendors, and we’re going to assemble a cheeseboard. Yum! It’s also a good no-cooking option, since I have yet to locate any form of kitchen.

Karamo: Do you want to talk about your family?

Erik: I never experienced any kind of affection through my entire childhood. My own parents fled from my horrible disfigured face.

Jonathan: *shouting from another area of the lair* Hey! Do NOT talk about my foxy new boyfriend that way!

Karamo: Hey, look at me, Erik: your parents failed you, okay? You didn’t fail them. You were just a kid. You deserved love, and they didn’t come through for you. That wasn’t your fault.

Erik: *tears up*

Karamo: You want a hug? Bring it in.

*They hug, and soft music plays spontaneously in the background*

Karamo: That’s better, right? Yeah. Now, this is just my own curiosity, but: does ANYBODY here actually speak French?

Antoni: *shouting from across the lair* Oh, I do! Me, me!

Erik: *shrugs*

Jonathan: Okay, you outrageously talented dreamboat, this is it. This is the moment. I don’t know what you’re hiding under that mask, but I am here to help you. Are you going to let me help you?

Erik: *looks away, conflicted*

Jonathan: Take your time. I will sit here and keep complimenting you for as long as it takes.

Erik: You don’t want to see my face.

Jonathan: Would it help if we cuddled? You can be whichever spoon you want.

Erik: It’s hideous.

Jonathan: La la la, I can’t hear you over the sound of how smart and talented you are and how much you deserve to love yourself, la la la!

Erik: Fine! *whips off mask* *crashing organ chords* Is THIS what you wanted to see?

Jonathan: Okay that was a very aggressive reveal, but good job! Progress! Proud of you! *claps* Yay!

Erik: *stares*

Jonathan: All right, sweetie, come over to the mirror and let’s talk options.

 DAY THREE: THAT O.G. SWAGGER

Antoni: Time to build that cheese board! Remember what I said about picking out cheeses?

Erik: A balance of mild, medium, and strong.

Antoni: That’s my boy! Okay, go with Jonathan and get your makeover on.

*Jonathan takes Erik upstairs to the backstage area of the opera house to do makeup*

Jonathan: Makeover time! Are you excited?

Erik: Yes! All the many problems in my life have been caused entirely by my horrifying face. It alone stands between me and triumph, success, and all the joys of the world.

Jonathan: Haha, so no pressure, right? *to camera* Corrective surgery doesn’t seem to be feasible for Erik, but it’s important to him that nobody see the way this side of his face naturally looks. Fortunately, his theatrical background has made him super comfortable with makeup! So we are gonna start with a nice moisturizing base, and then we are going to get out our makeup kit and go. To. Town.

*Jonathan and Erik go back downstairs. Erik dramatically whips off his mask, and everyone exclaims over how great he looks.*

Erik: I’m just so excited that I’ll be able to interact with people without them either screaming in horror or staring at my mask.

Jonathan: They’ll be staring, but only because of how totally fabulous you look!

Bobby: Ready to see the lair?

*They all tour the lair*

Bobby: You have a strong theme here with candles and mirrors and secret passages. What you didn’t have was a lot of practical everyday spaces.

Antoni: LIKE A KITCHEN.

Bobby: That’s right. So now you have a kitchen and dining area, and also a bathroom.

Erik: Oh, that will be nice.

Tan: Please do not tell me what you were doing when you didn’t have a bathroom. I don’t want to know.

Antoni: Now let’s go check out that brand-new kitchen and your delicious cheeseboard!

Karamo: That looks great! You know, you could bring one of these to your next lesson with Christine. I think she’d be very impressed.

Tan: Everyone ready to see some outfits?

*Fab Five cuddle up on the new sectional sofa*

Tan: This first look is an update of Erik’s professional wardrobe. He typically wears black to avoid drawing attention to himself backstage, so I stuck with that, but look at the lining of the cape.

*Erik flashes the inside of his cape, which is red. Everyone is delighted.*

Tan: Dramatic, yeah?

Jonathan: Oh my gosh, you’re like a sexy Dracula!

Tan: Look number two is eveningwear. Apparently masquerade parties are big around here, so Erik needs a costume for that. He wanted something powerful and edgy. And you all know how I love a print . . .

*Erik sashays out in a leopard costume with mask as organ music plays in the background*

Jonathan: Rawr!

Tan: This last look is what Erik plans to wear to the performance of his opera. Introducing . . . Don Juan!

*All squeal and cheer*

Jonathan: Love it! But why is it covering his gorgeous face?

Tan: *shrugs* Part of the opera, apparently.

*Erik joins them on the sofa*

Erik: All these years, I thought that success was about making the world see my genius. Now, I realize that it’s okay if the whole world doesn’t love me. I can love me.

Karamo: I’m so proud of you, man.

Erik: I wrote you these thank-you notes.

Jonathan: Aww!  

*Antoni tears up*

Tan: *reading* This is . . . kind of an ominous and mildly threatening note?

Karamo: Still an improvement, honestly.

*all hug*

Antoni: Your opera is going to be amazing!

Jonathan: It totally is! My pookie is going to absolutely SLAY!

[collecting-stories]

Americana - Ethan Chandler

Could you write something with Ethan Chandler where the reader is his wife and when they both fled America they got separated but eventually reunite in England because he asks around if anyone has seen another American in town and comes across Vanessa who the reader has been staying with and she takes him back to her home to see his wife?

Americana - Ethan Chandler

"Did you hear what happened at the tenant house?"  

"Monstrous isn't it? Heard someone say it was the Ripper."  

"The police think he's returned?"  

You stopped in your tracks and turned, hurrying back the way you'd come in an attempt to catch the two gossiping women who'd passed you on the street. You followed them a short ways until you could properly get their attention, tapping the one on the arm and getting her to turn around.

"Can I help you?"

"I don't mean to intrude, it's just that I overheard you and your companion talking about the tenant house? Which one?" You asked.  

"Down by the river. Not one of the nicer ones as it is. Heard the woman was a prostitute."

"Heard she wasn't above selling the girl as well." The other chimed in.

"The murder though?" You asked.

"Oh yes grisly. Both of them ripped to shreds. Like some sort of wild animal."

"This is London, wild animals don't roam London." One said.

"A wild animal?" You questioned, trying to build details from what little they could supply.

"They say it's the Ripper but that looked more like someone let a beast out of the zoo." The first one said matter-of-factly. She had been in the square when the bodies were being inspected.

"Thank you missus, I'm sorry to have bothered you."

"No trouble ma'am, glad we could help." She replied. "You aren't the sort are you?"

For a minute you just stared at her until finally realizing what she was asking of you, "no, no just a housekeeper. Nothing of the sort."  

"Good to know. Watch yourself just the same though." The friend stated.  

Both women left and you stood in the street, watching them walk away, your mind filled with the information they had given you. It was wrong to say that the deaths of the woman and her child filled you with hope but it was the truth. You had been in London for almost three years now, waiting and watching for any signs of your husband.  

The night Ethan fled his home he didn't go alone. You traveled the thousand or so miles by his side until he felt that it would be safer if he left you. And so he did, in the middle of the night as you slept on a train car headed east. You traveled on your own then, north to New York and then you boarded a charter for England. You'd been in London ever since. The three years here in the city had been divided between work and finding Ethan. You had no real way of knowing if he was in Europe or if he was still in America somewhere. Certainly you hoped that he had made his way across the Atlantic as well, that he had gotten far away from the long arm of his father and made it to safety. You hoped that he would find his way to you somehow but as time went on you had begun to lose hope.  

It was at that exact moment, as you shuffled through the crowd on the way to work, that just across town a wagon was setting up. The man inside the wagon, donning an absurd amount of makeup, was preparing for his first show of the day. Ever since running away from his family Ethan had made a name for himself in Europe, travelling around the countries as an American gunslinger. The audiences were always eager to watch his talent with the gun and he never stayed in one place long enough to be recognized. Still he took extra precaution, fixing a wig over his natural hair and applying a mustache.  

While you had been looking for Ethan he had not been looking for you. He wanted to think that you had gotten away. Sometimes he convinced himself that you were still in New York or some other costal place, living in a small house. Maybe you had met someone new, started the family you wanted but he could never give you. It was nice to hope at least. He hoped you weren't looking for him.  

But the news of the attack this morning had set your mind wandering. If it was like they said, if it was some wild animal, then you had a very good idea who it was that killed the mother and child. It was a gruesome truth, and a terrible way to locate someone, but it was beneficial to you. Clues seemed to be hiding themselves in plain sight or just coming to you all at once because just as you got to the house that employed you the children there came running out the door.  

"Miss, miss!" They shouted eagerly, racing each other down the front steps and colliding with a thud against your legs. Both were boys and both were just nearing ten years of age. "You must take us into town!"

"Father has given the alright." They switched back and forth as they spoke, finishing each others sentences and sometimes making it impossible to tell which child was which.

"There's an American man putting on a show, he's a wild west gunslinger!"  

"A wild west gunslinger?" You repeated, making sure you had heard them correctly. You didn’t want to be too optimistic but just the idea of this American was exciting you. Your brain just kept repeating Ethan's name over and over.

"Yes, yes!" They repeated excitedly.

"Alright, very well. We'll go to see this wild west gunslinger." You promised.  

The show wasn’t far from your employer's house, in an open field a few blocks away. The stands were already filling with patrons eager to see the spectacle that was being advertised on the hand-painted wooden signs. You kept the boys close to you as you pushed through the crowd, finding a seat toward the front. As the seats began to fill up a distinct horn sounded to alert the people that the show was getting ready to begin.  

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Colonel Brewster's Wild West Show and Emporium of American Curiosities. I invite you all to spend some time visiting the tents after the show. But for now, prepare yourselves for the amazing, incredible, Mr. Ethan Chandler!" The man who gave the introduction moved aside as Ethan ran out from behind a set of curtains hiding the backstage.  

"Well hello there folks," the familiar American twang that you adored resounded. Despite the oddly curled hair and the handlebar mustache it was your Ethan standing there in front of the crowd. You could feel your heart beating quicker and quicker, drowning out the astonished sounds of the spectators as they watched the show.

"Miss, miss!" One of the boys tugged at your sleeve excitedly though his eyes remained on the show before him. "After the show can we look in the tents? At all the artifacts?"

You wanted to correct him and say that they were hardly artifacts. You doubted any of this Colonel Brewster's collection was much older than you were. But you agreed, knowing that if they were there wandering the tents you could maybe have a chance to see Ethan. It all felt like a dream that you were bound to wake up from. You were just bidding your time until something jarred you awake and you were back in your tiny room praying for a chance to see your husband again.  

When the show was over you snuck backstage only to find Ethan standing there, wig and mustache abandoned, looking like the man who had left you on the train.  

"It is you." He spoke. He had wanted it to be you that he had seen in the crowd. Your face was unmistakable to him, the years had done nothing to taint his memory. But he often hallucinated your appearance. In markets in the south of France, in gardens in England, even in bars when he was drunk enough. He had looked across the expanse of performance goers and thought that his eyes were playing tricks on him. But surely they weren't so cruel as to imagine you standing there, just inside the tent, looking as beautiful as the day he left you on the train.  

"Yes." You nodded, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You didn’t want to cry here in some field in London but you couldn't stop yourself. Ethan was in front of you again, something you had stopped thinking would ever be a possibility. It took less than a second for him to hug you against his taller frame, pressing a kiss to your forehead and promising you that he would never leave you again.

Guess who’s back...

[placesthatchangedpeople]

Hephzibah House testimony

After having seen an article about this place on CNN, I search and found this testimony

I was at Hephzibah House in 1999 thru 2001 and the following statements are true.

I have to tell you that I can’t remember all that went on for the simple fact that I have done my best to forget that such a place exists. I can tell you that my mother is truly sorry for sending to such a facility and that I came out of there learning absolutely NOTHING.

Upon my arrival at HH, I was stripped of all my clothing and personal belongings as a staff lady watched me and then I had to shower after explaining to them that no less that an hour ago I had showered. They explained to me it was to wash away all my impurities, as to say I had some sort of deadly disease. The girls came in and I starting talking to they and they stared at me as if I was an alien. Conversing with other girls was forbidden and looked at as only a privilege. It was truly sad and then to only discover I would turn out to act in the same matter as they did.

I could go on for days telling you stories that I remember but I will focus on just a few and then what it did to me emotionally and mentally. I can’t say that they ever hit me but I can remember a time they made a comment to me in regards to being “spanked” and being sixteen at the time I clearly told them, “I will turn gangster on you if you ever lay a hand on me.” One girl and I will not mention her name did tell me she had been “spanked” and it truly made me cry as I had already heard stories on how “spankings” were done. They made me perform several embarrassing actions such as an exam in the closet performed my a man who I till this day do not think he was a real doctor, mark my bowels and menstrual cycles or even show them, count my dirty underwear, hold my bladder to the point were I was “dancing” because I could hardly hold it, etc. The girls that couldn’t hold it had to wear a diaper, which I just felt horrible for them.

We had to do numerous chores, exercises in days were it was freezing and snow coming to our knees or unbelievably hot (mind you we had layers of hideous, itchy clothing on.) We would miss meals if things were not done correctly. When we had a meal the amounts were enormous and I am in no way exaggerating. That was probably one of the hardest things for me, which was trying to consume such large amounts of food in just 20 min. and I knew if I did not finish all of it that it would be what I continued to eat for the next meal. I would get extremely ill from such large portions, yet they continued to serve them to me. I recall one incident were we had swiss chard for dinner and while I was eating a chewed on something that was obviously not lettuce and then spit it up to see a half chewed worm. The staff stood and debated whether I had to eat what I had thrown up, after debating I did not have to but did have to eat the rest of the worm that was in the swiss chard.

Then I took a bathroom break, (to throw it up) which was not scheduled so I received 20 demerits which resulted in me being on punishment for the next week. I had to write countless sentences and could not take part in activities that showed an ounce of fun. The Bible and God were shoved down our throats as punishment and clearly not what God intended it for. They make it very difficult to continue your high school education anyplace else but there. The picked a curriculum that I have yet to find any other school to offer.

We were only allowed to see our parents every four months and they visitation was only three hours long. I could not write to anyone except for immediate family. I got one a call a month which was only 20min to talk to my entire family. We had a staff member that would sit less than a foot away and connected to another phone to hear everything and if they felt it necessary suspend the call. This visitation was not only monitored but short and ridiculous for the significant amount of money that was spent for families to get there.

They had my parents send a certain amount of money every month including all my necessities and supplies that I would need. They had clothes, food, material, money, etc. donated yet the always wanted more and it was never for us girls. I couldn’t imagine how our water bill was so high seeing that we only were allowed a three minute shower. I did and said what I had too to make it there and by the end of my stay I was extremely confused. I didn’t keep 99% of their standards or beliefs, but at the same time I felt as if I was the wicked person that walked the Earth because I didn’t continue in their cultish ways. They made me feel that I wasn’t good enough for anything or that I would never make it in the world.

I now have a wonderful husband, two beautiful boys, and live a pleasing, successful life. HH does nothing to make, train or teach a woman to be a better Christian or a well respected citizen. I still have weekly horrible dreams of the things that went on while I was there and wake up in a panic mood. I think about it daily and try to understand what sort of pleasure and accomplishment they get for treating people in such a demeaning manor. We were constantly working and till this day if I am not engaging in work or some form of activity I feel guilty and lazy. Yet at the same time I keep myself busy so I don’t dwell on it much otherwise I get depressed.

It has been 8 years and I continue to have a wall up and will not allow people into my life. I shun any form of help seeing as the only kind I “received” from HH has done nothing for me. It is something that I struggle and work on daily. I hope that from this statement I save one girl from the treatment I received.

The boarding schools continues to be operating. It is located near Winona Lake in Indiana

[mpgiswiki]

the rest of this post will be under a readmore cause its really just for me to have handy an itll probably be a little long

ok so like i said a bunch of times already today, i keep having dreams about one specific tooth of mine falling out??? so now im convinced its actually gonna fall out 

anyways now im gonna try and write down and analyze my dreams (or at least the ones i remember) and try to figure out How My Poor Tooth Will Go

so from what i can remember, the first dream i had about this tooth falling out was earlier this month (may) or late april. the dream started out normally?? like more normal than having a tooth fall out i guess…i was in my ap lang class and the teacher wasnt my normal teacher, it was this math teacher at my school that everyone just fucking hates. she was being a real bitch and when i answered one question wrong, she literally kicked me out of ap lang? the whole class like i wouldnt get credits for the class and i couldnt take the exam or anything i was just gone for good. obviously i was pissed about this, so i screamed and kicked things and did my usually anger breakdown thing and walked out of the class, heading to guidance. i cant remember which of these events happened first but at one point i was walking down the hallway (which now that i think of it, seemed more reminiscent of a hallway at my middle school) and i saw 3 of my friends (maybe 4 i cant remember) and they were doing karaoke in the middle of the hallway since there was a tv hanging from the ceiling. paige was singing and she was really getting into it. at another point in the dream, like i said, not sure if this was before or after the karaoke thing, i had to get on a bus in order to get to guidance. while on this bus, i had to talk to this girl i used to be friends with but told to fuck off freshman year cause she was toxic and i wanted to get ride of her. she just talked to me like normal?? like she didnt hate my guts for calling her an annoying bitch lmao?? and i just talked to her normally too which was fucking weird…anyways after i got off the bus, i was at guidance. the door to the guidance offices looked like the? jungle?? or whatever??? like some environmentalist designed the place…there was even a hug recycle bin there. i just kinda stood by the door for a while…i think my Dumb Ass couldnt figure out how to get in the door. i just kinda gave up i literally just said “fuck it i gotta go im late to drama practice” which is weird bc im not even fucking in drama. but nonetheless, i went to drama practice. drama practice was held in some huge ass library and the only other people there that i was talking to were my friend dana and my?? drivers ed teacher??? we were supposed to be practicing a scene from les mis which i guess was what play we were doing (i think?? i was cosette and dana was eponine and my fucking drivers ed teacher was marius…) but instead of practicing, we were just talking about the bullshit that was the fact i was kicked out of ap lang like a week before the exam. and then?? my tooth (top left, second from the front left tooth) just fuckign fell out and i started gushing blood and then i woke up…

 after that, i had an assortment of little dreams i can hardly remember where my tooth (the same one as always) either falls out or is pulled out. i remember in one its very violently pulled from my mouth and the only other thing i remember from that dream is that this bitch, holly, was there (she didnt pull out the tooth tho i think mikan tsumiki pulled out the tooth). in some other ones, i remember that my tooth was already pulled out before the dream and i would like keep it in the socket in my mouth and pretend like it was still attached?? which leads me to my other very vivid and most recent dream,

so, this one i had last night. its kinda in the opposite order the first one was in, it started with the tooth and ended with ap lang. so in this one, i started off in a dentists office. my dentist was actually my psychiatrist?? but in the dream i just saw her as my dentist but anyways i was talking to her about my teeth and whatever. she asked if there was anything else id like to say before we ended the appointment (kinda like how she would at my irl psychiatrist appointments) and i was like “oh yeah, my tooth fell out” and i just kinda take my tooth out of its little socket. apparently it had fallen out before (like, i long while before) and i had been keeping it in cause i didnt want people to know it fell out i guess?? and when i showed my dentist she was like “oh you pulled out your cracked tooth huh” or whatever and i got really confused because i was under the impression that it had just fallen right out but she pointed out that the tooth itself was cracked. then the bell rung and suddenly i was in the cafeteria at my school and i had no idea what fucking class i had next. so i was just kinda slowly walking out of the cafe when the fire alarm started to go off. i was super confused cause we had just had a fire drill the day before so it didnt make any sense why we would have another. until the principal said on the loud speaker that it was For Real and i started to FLIP. i finally figured out we had D period next, meaning i was supposed to be going to ap lang so i had to find that class so i would be accounted for. i was about to bolt the fuck out when i noticed my ap lang teacher was like right near me. i asked him why he was down by the cafe and not near his room and he said it was cause theres a lot of stuffed lions (tigers?) in his room and he was having electrical problems so it was only a matter of time before one of them caught on fire. so that was weird. anyways we went outside to where we were supposed to wait if there was a fire and i played some kind of hopscotch? game with some kids ive seen around school but have never talked to. none of them were in my ap lang class but whatever. the fire department quickly put out the fire and we all had to fucking continue school because of fucking course we would. so i went to my ap lang class and looked into the door window of the classroom and it didnt really look like it was on fire it looked more like one of the classrooms in corpse party…we held class in the class directly next to it with the other ap lang class and we were basically coloring. someone stole the seat i was sitting in when i got up for like a second. then like sparks started flying off god knows where and something caught fire and then i woke up.

wow this is already super long…ok well here goes my analysis of the dreams and my prediction. 

so the reason im so insistent that i might actually lose my tooth is cause a lot of times, i can correctly predict the future. it happens a lot with dreams especially. like if you know me you probably know im kinda a little psychic ?? in some ways. so im kinda taking this recurring dream as an omen. anyways the fact that in all the ones i can remember, theres something that has to do with school and especially ap lang?? makes me think somethings gonna happen in there. i thought before, in the first dream, the whole ap lang part was because i had my ap exam coming up and i was nervous about it but now that ive finished that and stuff im not too sure. i feel like the karaoke gang will end up being the people i see on my merry way to the nurses office with the tooth in hand, especially dana who has a really big presence in the first and last dreams?? dana was in the karaoke scene, she was there when it fell out in the first dream, and she was in the cafe with me when the fire alarm went off. i think ill probably talk to her about it right after it happens..i dont think she’ll be the reason i get my tooth knocked out tho bc if it does happen in ap lang like i assume then she wouldnt be anywhere near me at the time. i believe the reason my drivers ed teacher was also there was because at the time i had the first dream, i was taking drivers ed. and he was probably marius cause i hate marius and him. also the bitch i hate was there cause i have dreams about her and i being friendly constantly so that means nothing in regards to my tooth. the fact that i was so shocked the tooth was cracked may be my dream just telling me that its gonna crack off and not that it just falls or is just plainly pulled out. my psychiatrist was there because the other day i was wondering when my next appointment was. and the whole stuff with the fire probably came from the fact that we had a fire drill the other day and it also may symbolize the panic and whatever when my tooth fucking breaks off in class. now how exactly do i think itll go down, based on the dream + other stuff??? well like i said, itll be in ap lang most likely. how does one chip off a tooth in fucking ap lang? well right now my teacher is teaching the chinese students that are visiting about american sports so he has a bunch of sports balls sitting on the table in the front of the room. before he comes into the classroom to start class, some kids pick up a ball and play with it for a while. so im guessing my shit luck will cause someone to accidentally hit me in the face with a ball, hard enough to break my tooth. i, or someone else, will then probably have to pull my cracked, loose tooth out of its socket. there will be tons of blood. i will walk to the nurses office and maybe at some point see dana and tell her what happened. and thats what the fuck ive been thinking about all day. 

so ya tldr; some kid is gonna knock my tooth out in ap lang probably so 

[dyingrabbit]

Negated Universe Misadventures - Chapter One

(I thought maybe it would make more sense to post the full chapters here rather than link to fanfiction.net. Kinda long. Sorry to make to scroll for 5 full seconds. Also SPOILERS for Madoka Magica.)

Humor/Dark

Subjective narrator (Homura Akemi)

Word count: 3898

“Fuck” count: 33

Eco Round (Attempt #26)

I'm not gonna say I saw it coming, because that would be vain of me, but I sure as hell knew something was bound to get fucked up this time.

Trying to take down Walpurgisnacht at less than full strength was already pushing it. If Sayaka hadn't gone and blown herself up earlier this would have been a much more feasible operation. But our numbers disadvantage notwithstanding, we were still fucking it up. Kyouko was way out of position, getting distracted by the adds and Mami couldn't seem to land a single fucking shot to save her life. I was clearly the only person who could get anything done. Unfortunately even I can't carry all the time so everybody died again.

Fuck this shit.

Upon reset I awoke to a familiar ceiling. At this juncture I considered a great many things. I had almost lost count of how many times I'd started over by giving this little buckler a spin and all of my runs were becoming confused and hazy. Twenty-five times now I had rushed headlong into this damned loop and each new attempt yielded nothing.

Was I worn out? Certainly. It's no fun seeing your efforts go unrewarded. It's another thing entirely for them to fucking zap out of existence.

Did I regret putting myself up to this? Not quite. Saving Madoka was still priority number one and it wouldn't do any fucking good for anyone if I started feeling bad for myself now.

What was clear was that nothing seemed to be working. It always ended in Madoka dying or turning into a witch. It was one of the universal constants of the timeline. Another thing that was oddly prevalent was Mami dying very early. It wasn't always the same perpetrator, but the cause of death was almost invariably decapitation. There were a surprising number of ways, it turned out, for Mami to lose her head along the course of events. So noticeable was this phenomenon that on the last occasion I actually chuckled quietly to myself.

But in any event, what I needed right now was to strategize. Throwing myself at this brick wall wasn't working so I needed to adapt in order to succeed. What did that entail? In order to beat this time loop I needed to know it from front to back. I needed to find out what made it tick and precisely how to exploit it. For starters, I needed a control run.

To be fair, I also needed a break. This shit was getting fucking exhausting and I was hardly up to jumping right back in again. So there's two dead birds.

Step one was getting money, a practice I had perfected several resets ago. The ability to stop time was a pretty fucking hard counter to any security system designed by man, so I won't bore you with the trivial details. In essence, I robbed a few banks. I stopped feeling bad about it a while ago. The world ended if I fucked this up so I rightfully deserved to have any and all resources at my disposal.

Step two was having a spa day. This was probably the most fucking critical part of the plan so I paid special attention to making sure it was done properly. This entailed no expenses being spared. Importantly, it meant going to the most expensive spa in Mitakihara City, a super classy looking joint called "Subarashi Onsen".

I gave a cursory scan to the brochure in the lobby and quietly cackled, knowing that each and every feature advertised was getting purchased. Even if some of them were mutually exclusive. I didn't give a damn if I had to be there all day, nothing was fucking sacred.

As it happened, the spa's accommodations were somewhat exhaustive and I did in fact end up spending all day there. But the lost day was something of a necessary sacrifice to ensure the rest of the plan went smoothly. Who knows how catastrophic a failure may have arisen if this first step hadn't been executed correctly. It made me shudder just thinking about it. Frightening shit, no doubt.

Alright, step three was pretty fucking boring and tedious but it was technically required according to my outline. I just needed to watch everyone for a while. I wasn't allowed to do anything really. This run was all about getting a solid baseline so I could then semi-directly measure the cause and effect of my actions.

It also meant taking a shit ton of notes. That was fine, as I was a pretty ace note taker, but it also sucked pretty bad because all of my calculations would be based on them and the level of abstraction that would be required of me at the drop of a hat wasn't particularly conducive to easily resolvable data points. I needed to be everywhere, at all times, making systematically unfounded assumptions, and I needed to be correct every time. I needed to be almost entirely omniscient for this to work even slightly. Fortunately my handy little time travel ability made this prerequisite a bit less damning.

Stage one, I suppose, was my classroom introduction. Since I had no intention of reverting to the helpless pleb I had been prior to meeting Madoka for the first time, I felt no desire to alter my current appearance. Still, Madoka recently seemed to recognize me at first sight due to dreaming about me in the previous timeline. So I did need to change something. The glasses would have to do.

So instead of walking in like the drop dead gorgeous yet undeniably bad ass goddess I had been known as for the past several time loops, I settled for walking in as a slightly less gorgeous and bad ass yet very studious looking goddess. The students were impressed, as they always were.

This was generally the only fun part about the whole process. At one point or another fighting the witches was pretty fun, but now that I knew all their moves it was getting dull. The only thing that I found pleasing anymore was the complete adoration I received from these poor impressionable middle schoolers. I put an ungodly amount of effort towards making these kids comment on my hair. Eventually it paid off. I now consistently get one or two girls asking me what shampoo I use. It's disgusting but dangerously addictive.

This time I unfortunately wouldn't get to show off quite as much for fear of drawing too much attention to myself. This meant no more breaking the pole vaulting prefectural record or absolutely killing my math professor's white board problems. But like hell was I gonna drop my fabulous hair. Fuck my spreadsheets. If my curtain of raven black locks was going to significantly alter the timeline then god dammit so be it. After writing my name on the board and wishing everyone a good year I assumed my seat and proceeded to begin note taking.

Madoka, for her part, did steal a few glances in my direction after I sat down. This was to be expected, as I'm difficult to not stare at, but additionally she had probably ID'd me from her dream. It couldn't really be helped. I could have worn a mask or gotten plastic surgery, but those ideas could just as easily go fuck themselves. At least I didn't look exactly like I probably did in the dream. I had the bright red glasses for one. I also had put a concerted effort towards smiling a little bit to hide the stone cold bitch stomper within. That and I made a point not to make eye contact with Madoka. With any luck, she'd think it was all in her head.

After a bit, she seemed to settle down and focus on the lecture. When break came, A few students came to welcome me to the class. I graciously answered each of their questions with poise and class, even the bullshit ones. Then someone asked about the shampoo. I still get a little elated every time, so I launched into my spiel.

"Actually, that's an interesting question. There was a brand that I used to use called-" I was cut off by a really obscenely asinine ringtone.

"Oh. Sorry, Akemi-san. I've gotta take this."

Fucking hell. I couldn't have even one moment of mild satisfaction it seemed. Taking advantage of the lull, Madoka approached me with a timid smile.

"E - excuse me it's Akemi-san, right?" She meekly inquired.

Okay, this was game time. No margin for fuck-ups here. We were gonna play this real cool but also a little guarded.

I nodded while saying, "Yep, that's my name. And you?"

Fucking nailed it. Madoka looked a little relieved that I came across as a normal person and proceeded to introduce herself.

"I'm Madoka Kaname, nice to meet you." We politely shook hands.

This time I didn't ask her to take me to the nurse's office. I went and ate lunch alone from a strategic perch. Not a whole lot of shit was poised to happen at school but vigilance was never a bad thing. Right now the only pieces on the board were Madoka herself and that Sayaka bitch. Things don't really get interesting until after school when they visit that music store.

Stage two was the all important encounter with Kyubey and Mami at the music store. This is generally where I initially make a major impact on the timeline. So this time I anticipated the meeting to play out much differently.

Much to my chagrin, it didn't really. Generally I would rush in here, shoot up Kyubey, and narrowly avoid a confrontation with Mami before peeling out. Now that I thought about it I don't really do much here. This time Kyubey lured Madoka and Sayaka into the witch's labyrinth whilst feigning being under duress.

Fucking bastard.

This forced Mami into rescuing them and revealing her magical abilities. Mami then takes them to her apartment where she talks about the pros and cons of the whole business. Almost exactly the same except no intervention from me. In addition I hadn't blown my cover or given the others a bad impression of myself, so this was already an improvement. That was going in the notebook for sure.

They spent the next couple of days casually tracking down familiars and dispatching them with no trouble. Meanwhile, Sayaka had been granted that super gaudy club that she used to beat the shit out of adds. Madoka whiled away thinking about what she might wanna wish for and precisely how fucking pink and frilly her dress was gonna be. Things were progressing fairly nominally.

Soon they ought to face off against Charlotte and Mami will lose her fucking head. I imagine at this point, Sayaka and Madoka will both insta-contract with Kyubey and probably end up killing the shit out of Charlotte. I'm actually not sure what will happen after that. It really depends on how Sayaka takes the whole thing and how she reacts to Kyouko when she arrives. If they end up killing each other I won't have the man advantage I need to take out big ole' Walpy. But I'm getting ahead of myself now.

Stage three began with Madoka and Sayaka visiting that crippled violin player Kyousuke who Sayaka kinda dug for some reason. After leaving the hospital, they encountered the grief seed conspicuously sticking out of the wall.

Sayaka, the martyr that she is, usually volunteers to stay behind and camp the seed while Madoka goes and fetches Mami from her apartment. Except they both had their phones this time so they just called her up and she was there in a couple minutes.

I must have missed something because I'm not certain how my involvement makes these girls any less aware of their mobile devices. But at least I didn't have to hide in this bush any longer than was absolutely necessary. When Mami arrived, I sneakily followed everyone inside.

For what it's worth, a couple times I've actually managed to convince Mami that something was off with this particular witch. My success rate at keeping her alive through this portion is, nonetheless, lower than satisfactory. Nicer folks might call her free-willed, but the skeptics, the cynics, and the real deal pundits would just call her a fucking idiot. I, being all three of those things, had just about had it with Mami and her gung-ho attitude. It gave me a grim sense of satisfaction knowing she wouldn't be acting so feckless when she no longer had a head.

I silently cursed myself, though, for counting Mami out so quickly. After all, it's not like it was in my best interest if she bit the dust here. If it satisfied my personal vendetta for her to fail utterly without my assistance, that was neither here nor there. That being said, It didn't earn me any fucking brownie points to be optimistic and, given her past performance, objectivity implied a certain degree of pessimism at this stage.

The initiates proceeded into the labyrinth with something of a terrified amusement. Sure, they'd been around the block by now but It would be quite the hyperbole to assert that this particular block was in any sense adequate preparation for what they now faced. So it was good that they were frightened.

Mami on the other hand was practically skipping the entire time. Madoka had just told her that she had resolved to join the ranks as a magical girl. In that moment, all Mami's general misgivings about going it alone had subsided in a flood of tears and a shocking number of "Fuckin' A!" utterances. There were clearly some underlying mental issues here so it warranted taking a note.

Now, with the wind at their backs, they sailed into Charlotte's main chamber to do battle.

I've seen this fight play out several times by now. Generally speaking it doesn't go so well when I'm not involved at first. When Mami lets me assist her, I fuck Charlotte up so fast it makes her head spin. Everyone thinks I'm really cool after that, even if they thought I was a cold hearted bitch before. When Mami doesn't let me assist her, nine times out of ten she doesn't make it out alive.

On a few occasions, one or both of her shadowers have made contracts prior to the fight so it goes much more smoothly even when I'm not there. In all other cases, when I'm not present, Mami gets a big head about herself only to have it swiftly emancipated from the rest of her body. To put it bluntly, I expected to see a headless Mami with near certainty in the near future.

What did end up happening was a bit disappointing. Mami engaged her target with a blistering hail of musket fire for several seconds, as usual. Charlotte responded by doing pretty much nothing for a while, as usual. Mami pinned her against the far wall and initiated her big flashy finishing move whilst shouting "Tiro Finale!".

Nobody else had a finishing move. How vain of her.

After believing the kill was confirmed, Mami dropped her guard for a second. Charlotte sprung out of her doll form straight at Mami, opened her jaw wide open and started munching on the poor middle schooler's head. All of this was expected. I took no notes on this.

What wasn't expected was what happened next. Charlotte quickly finished working on Mami, or decided she'd better go and secure a couple more frags, and focused her attention on Madoka and Sayaka. Kyubey, always on the ball, immediately petitioned them to make contracts.

"Quickly! Make a wish so I can turn you into magical girls!". Sayaka, with an uncharacteristically clear head, instantly wished for Kyousuke's arm to be healed. The transformation process began at once. Madoka couldn't fucking pull herself together and just stared wide eyed at Mami's dismembered corpse.

"Now you, Madoka! There's no time! What is your wish?" Demanded Kyubey. Madoka looked helplessly between Kyubey and Mami's body. Then, wiping away her tears, she managed to eke out a few words.

"Uh, I'd like a really big cake-" In that instant Charlotte swung her head about, slamming into Madoka's fragile frame, and sending her flying into the wall. She impacted with a sickening crunch.

Shit. That wasn't supposed to happen.

It did give credence to my claim that they'd be dead without my help. I guess I hadn't fully believed myself though.

A cake. She wished for a fucking cake. Damn, now I wanted a cake. I made a note of these things.

That aside, It would have been something of an understatement to say that Sayaka was somewhat galvanized at this point. Her eyes were glazed over and a miasma of unadulterated hate oozed from her every pore. With a scream too ungodly for hell she streaked through the air to assail her nemesis.

If I hadn't just watched Madoka get fucking demolished, which was never easy, I'd have probably been a bit turned on by the whole display.

Sayaka slammed into Charlotte, blade first, driving her flailing, tube-like body straight to the ground. Rising quickly, she began mercilessly hacking at the witch's face. Unfathomable amounts of blood and gore gushed from each wound coating the once cute blue outfit Sayaka was wearing. She began syncopating expletives with each slash of her sword.

"YOU—PIECE OF—SHIT—FUCKING—BITCH—CUNT—MOTHER—FUCKER!" Holy shit this was hot. Her manic carvings had left her victim mangled and unrecognizable. With a last cry of utter despair, Sayaka drove her blade straight through Charlotte's face.

There was a horrific screech that reverberated off the walls. It was so immediately deafening that I dropped my notebook to cover my ears. But Sayaka remained motionless, her hands resting on the hilt of her sword which was still deeply embedded in the flesh of her enemy, and her head downcast. The screech increased in frequency until it was no longer audible. Then Charlotte exploded.

The labyrinth quickly dissipated, leaving only Sayaka, Madoka, and I in front of the hospital. Madoka was strewn about in a very unnatural manner. I could tell pretty easily that she was toast. Looked like almost every bone in her body was broken and Sayaka could tell that pretty easily too.

She crawled over to her friend and gingerly pulled her body up onto her lap. It seemed like she'd spent her allotted screaming budget in the preceding encounter and now all she could do was quietly sob. So she did. Her soul gem turned from bright blue to a depressing shade of navy.

Kyubey waited closely by in anticipation, no doubt upset that his big catch had all but gone to waste but, regardless, happy with the quick turnover of his most recent contractee.

Alright then. I quickly summarized the most important details of this engagement in my notebook: Mami dies. Madoka dies. Sayaka goes off on Charlotte. It's really bad ass and sexy. Charlotte is terminated. Sayaka despairs and turns into a witch. Good. Now I was calling it. The timeline was dead.

Facing no repercussions from exposing myself, I emerged from the bush that was my hiding spot and pulled a Desert Eagle out of my buckler. There was really no need for this to go any further so I decided to give Sayaka the old Of Mice and Men treatment, as it was the most merciful way to do this.

She either didn't hear me walking up behind her, or didn't care. I glanced over at Kyubey, who had just now noticed me, gave him the finger, and shot Sayaka in the back of the head.

No grief seeds for you, motherfucker.

Before resetting, I decided I'd indulge myself one last time. I really wanted some cake. Unfortunately, it was rather impossible to get rid of Kyubey after the show I'd given him earlier. Even after destroying his body he kept coming back to bug me with useless questions, mostly pertaining to who the hell I was and what I knew about witches and shit. Only after sitting down in a café and acquiring my cake did I begin to humor him.

"I'm basically your worst nightmare." I said, taking a bite of vanilla frosted angel food. "I can do this shit as many times as I fucking want to and you can't stop me." I was speaking a little unduly loud and the nearby patrons were giving me confused glances.

"I wouldn't be so confident, Akemi Homura-san." The Incubator countered, "It is a certainty that you will eventually see the futility of this endless cycle and succumb to despair."

Okay, I'll give this monster credit. He did make a good point. It was totally possible that if I didn't find a route with a good ending soon I was going to start losing it. But I could delay that. I just needed to make sure to pace myself. That's what this run was all about anyway.

At some point I was going to have to look at myself in the mirror and ask what I'd be willing to settle for, or if I'm willing to settle at all. What constituted a good ending, and if that was achievable. But that was for some other time.

I put the rest of the cake into a to-go box that the waitress had given me and awkwardly tried to shove the box into my magic bottomless storage unit. Meanwhile, Kyubey gazed at me with a look of bemused contentment or maybe seething angst. I couldn't really tell. He kinda just looked like a pedophile or a serial killer to me so It was tough to gauge his demeanor at any given time. In any event, I'm sure he thought he'd gotten to me with that last jab. Which he had, sort of. But fuck him, so what?

"Perhaps you're already losing hope, Akemi Homura-san." He said evilly.

I'd had enough of him. I'd like to say what I did next was in one smooth motion but If I'm being honest with myself it certainly didn't look all that practiced. That is, it was choppy as all hell.

First, I heroically jammed the rest of the cake box into my shield. Next, I grabbed some cash and left an equitable tip for the nice lady who had served me. Lastly, I grabbed Kyubey by the throat, threw him on the floor, and shouted,

"AM NOT! FUCK YOU!" before emptying my Deagle magazine into his chest.

Then I reset.

TO BE CONTINUED