#the way I lost my mind and screamed myself hoarse

[spilledparchment]

[iamyoursonly]

The ghost inside me (17/02/2024)

I may not be active again for awhile because it’s almost the end of the holidays and school will be back :(( This is a story I wrote when I felt really confused and didn’t know what to do so, if you ever felt the same, I think you’ll like it.

Sometimes I feel like there is a ghost lurking inside of me, like it wants to devour me starting with drinking all my positivity away. It’s like a shadow that you can see but cannot touch, one that just follows you through every step of your life, unconditionally. But this time, in a bad way. It’s feels like I have lost touch over everything, and there are no ‘sparks’ between anything that comes in my way, no matter my hobbies, my favourite people or even my comfort show. I couldn’t even feel the tears leaking past the boundaries of my eyes. I just sit there, emotionless, just like a puppet put up for show, questioning myself, ‘Who even am I?’

I breathe as I walk down the streets while I was on a midnight stroll, the wind feeling extra chilly in Autumn made me shiver. Even so. I kept on walking. I held on a can on alcohol, talking big sips out of the can, just trying to stop myself from feeling numb. I couldn’t feel anything despite my stomach burning in opposition. I just kept on drinking, until I felt like I could see that ghost inside of me come out.

“What do you want from me?” I ask it, trying to maintain my posture and a proper mind.

It just looked at me, its glance chilly and cold as ever. Like it’s staring into my soul and was trying to eat me whole. Its existence alone was enough to make me freeze and not ask more.

“What do you want from me?” I repeat, hoping it would respond. But its gaze still cold as ever, and all I could see was its eyes. Black, so black like it was reflecting the depth of the sadness within me. The overwhelming amount of feelings inside me started to explode as tears started gushing out of my eyes. I cried my heart out until the streets echoed my cries.

The ghost walked over to me, its steps heavy yet it can’t be heard at all, only its footsteps can be seen on the wet concrete. As if it could understand my feelings, it wrapped its arms around me, hugging me tight, just like how a parent would while comforting their child. Yes, that’s what it feels like right now. Like future me telling me everything will turn out fine and I will be okay.

I cried and cried, but the tears only fell through it as I try to return its warm embrace.

“Who are you?” I croak out, my voice hoarse and heart sore. Then I just attempt to scream out all my pain and sorrow into nothingness, into a black void no one could reach. Though the ghost’s stare is cold, its embrace is warm and soothing… How I wish to be held by someone like that.

I lie down on the concrete, tired eyes looking up into the darkness of the night. I could feel the ghost do the same as me, it holding my hand as we lie in silence. I didn’t say anything, we were just enjoying each other’s calm serenity, our calming atmospheres. I almost dozed off after lying down for so long, why is the feeling of home lying within the ghost, one so mysterious I can’t even learn anything about it.

“Who are you?” I ask again, my tears have stopped, though my mascara has been ruined already.

It still did not respond, its eyes just looked into mine, as if it were exploring mine, and uncovering my deepest secrets and insecurities. The terrifying silence seemed like it was wrapping around us, but I loved every moment of it.

Being alone and feeling alone are two different things, I believe. Being alone is like when I am actually alone, but feeling alone is when I am in a crowd but I still feel like no one is around me. And I feel alone. Not because I have no one around me, but because I have no one that understands me, no one that I can truly trust and confide in. Sometimes I don’t know if I want to be in love or do I just like the feeling of love. Is it just for me to numb away all the loneliness and to drive away all this soreness in my body and soul?

As I sit straight on the ground, tired from all the lying down. I feel the cold on my legs as I slowly try to stand up. I took a breathy sigh as I looked up again, checking if the stars are still around. They were, of course, still shining brighter than ever. The view of the night sky was simply divine to spectate when alone, and most importantly with a can of alcohol. I spin around a few times, twirling my knee length dress as I try to dance. I sang so loud I feel like people would file a noise complaint against me. But who cares? I was having so much fun!

“You have definitely had too much to drink.” I hear a voice, then footsteps nearing. The ghost near me seemed like it disappeared, leaving me again in the terrifying loneliness.

“Wait!” I try to call out to the ghost. The cold wind blew as if it was never there, and I felt alone again.

“Love,” The voice called again, then I feel them put their jacket onto my shoulders. Oh this scent, I remember it oh so well. It only belonged to my one and only, and he was so beautiful I swear. “How are you feeling, my love?”

His blue eyes as if reflecting the beauty of the sea looked into mine. And I just stared right back at him, just like what the ghost did to me. I have never noticed how much detail there is in his eyes, the blue may have been alluring at first glance, but after a lot of searching into it, you could see its sorrow inside. He reminded me of the ghost just now, the amount of sorrow in their eyes seemed the same, and how they both make me feel like I was home.

“Hey,” I looked at him and finally smiled, “What’re you doing here?”

Instead of drowning in loneliness, I wish I could drown in his arms, his touch, and his love. His eyes captivating, like he could draw all the attention in a club just because he walked in. And his white hair, it was so unique I wish I could have that… But I guess I can’t.

“You’re so gorgeous,” I tell him, “I wish I could have that kind of beauty.”

He chuckled, and then played with strands of my hair, “You’re even more beautiful, I swear. You’re just saying all this because you’re drunk.”

“No I’m not, I’m serious.” I tell him, then he smiles even more, pulling me into a hug.

After a long pause of silence, where I just let him embrace me, trying to remove myself from this feeling of being alone. He was helping though, he didn’t even make a sound, and just hugged me tight. His smell filling my lungs. I swear even the ghost inside me could feel warm just from this scent of his. That’s how intoxicating it is.

“Satoru.” I whisper, he hums in reply, “Remind me why do you love me again?”

He laughed, then rolled his eyes playfully as if he was trying to be sarcastic, “Do I not make it obvious enough for your liking?” That smirk on his face when he said this made everything very vivid in my head. His scent, his gaze… All of it. He was definitely trying to make me flustered, though I’m not letting him win.

He starts speaking again, “Well to start with I really love your smile, your beauty and your features. Also the way your eyes brighten when you do something you enjoy, and the way you laugh even though you fail. I love how you are so humble towards everything and try not to burden anyone with your problems. Though I’m right here for you, love. And then it’s just you, you’re literally perfect. Even the way you sing so loudly in the shower. I should say I don’t deserve you because of how amazing you actually are.” He pauses, and I took in his words. Then he continues, “Butterflies can’t see how beautiful they are either, and I’m just one of the flowers for this beautiful butterfly.”

He smiles at me, that contagious smile put a smile on my face too. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud uncontrollably. It was so unexpected but really genuine.

“Stop laughing would you?” He said with a very visible blush on his face, “Let’s just get you home, yeah?”

I nodded and he held my hand so tight like he had no intention of letting go of me. We just trailed down slowly down the road, the wind continued blowing towards us. I skipped and skipped then almost tripped, though there was nothing to worry about because my big strong man is with me. For a second, I felt like a fairytale princess, but I felt bad about leaving all my sorrow behind with the ghost.

I grabbed his arm, leading him to stop for a second, “I just wanted to bid my ghost goodbye. Can you wait for a second?” He didn’t object, so I just walked back to where I first sat down, and the shadow was there again. Though this time its eyes were less dull, it had this little shine somewhere inside. “Bye bye.” I waved, and it waved back, as if it was happy that I have found my own pillar of joy. I walked back to Satoru, and he held my hand as we walked home.

Despite it was so late there was barely any light source, the joy within me while walking with Satoru seemed like the lighthouse for going home. The joy reflected in his and my eyes led the road back home. Just from this I knew that he’s the one for me, and that we could overcome any difficulties in life together. Because all I could do when I am around him, is smile.

I walked home only by myself, but I arrived home with another person, one that I love and treasure so much.

master list

[siriustaylorsversion]

maroon ♡ ➵ ✩ sirius black

hii! this fic is based on a request and yes my request box? is open. hope you enjoy <33

warnings: language

When the morning came, We were cleaning incense off your vinyl shelf Cause we lost track of time again, Laughing with my feet in your lap, Like you were my closest friend How’d we end up on the floor anyway? You say Your roomate’s cheep ass screw top rose that’s how, I see you every day now…

The only thing that I could feel was the loud pounding in my head as I woke up with bottles and shoes on my body. Shrugging off everything on me and making sure I was decent I had many memories flashing back into my mind. The loud music, the celebration for the Quidditch world cup, the absolute dumb shit I always pull when I am drunk.

(flashback) “siriii” I giggled… GIGGLED? I never giggle. I obviously had too much to drink and he understood just that.. putting both his arms around my waist, he helped navigate me across the room to lie down on a couch. “ why are you such a-“ hiccup “buzzkill?” I ask furrowing my brows as he slowly removed my heels from my throbbing feet. “you’re going to thank me tomorrow.” My cheeks turned red as he winked at me. How did I let my guards down?? Taking my shoes in one hand and wrapping the other around my waist he announced to all the people he’s putting me to bed as if I was a goddamn child. We reach my dorm and as he closed the door I slammed into his chest. Putting my hands on his chest to stable myself, I couldn’t stop myself from feeling his muscles. ‘Where did his leather jacket go?’ I thought… “it’s with you, love.” he said. Realizing that I said that out loud I made a mental note of thinking twice before speaking. “Don’t worry, love, I don’t take advantage of beautiful people when they’re drunk."

And I lost you, The one, I was dancing with in new York, No shoes, looked up… at the sky and it was.. The burgundy on my t-shirt as you splashed your wine into me and how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet it was maroon. The mark they saw on my collar bone, the rust that grew between telephones, the lips I used to call home, so scarlet it was maroon.

(flashback) The common room was full of sweaty hormonal teenagers after Quidditch training and there I was again, waiting for Sirius as if he’d care. He never did. After that night, we had a few… let’s say… a few casual hookups but me being… well, me, I had gone overhead and developed feelings. Obviously I hadn’t told him but he had just been ignoring me after the winter break. The gryffindors were just partying when I just gave up and decided to go to bed. Turning around, I bumped into someone, wine spilling all over my new clothes. Oh.my.god. Before I could scream at the person for ruining my clothes I heard a hoarse voice say “I’m sorry, I should’ve looked where I was going.” It was him, of course it was him. “It’s fine.” I grit out. “Hey, we’ve kind of stopped talking in the last couple of weeks, and…” “Sirius! Babe, we need you for the photos” I hear a loud voice interrupt mine. He gave me an apologetic look and went away. It was Bonnie. I knew her voice. I heard that voice every fucking day taunting me. Are they… no, it can’t be. My conflicted thoughts take over as I change and go to bed. Tearing up, I feel so stupid because this is just typical me, developing feelings for someone who could never even bother to listen to me. But he was mine first. The way he held her dancing tonight, he held me first. The way he kissed her hand, he kissed mine first. I was his best friend. And now, he just… forgot about me.

When the silence came, we Were shaking blind and hazy How the hell did we lose sight of us again? Sobbing with your head in your hands Ain't that the way shit always ends You were standing hollow-eyed in the hallway Carnations you had thought were roses That's us I feel you, no matter what The rubies that I gave up

(flashback) “No I can’t control it! Don’t you understand? It.is.not.in.my.control.” Turns out, telling your feelings to your best friend might end really really bad. I guess it’s what I deserved just blurting out that I liked him in the middle of the hallway. But what I never expected would happen, was that he’d lead me to an empty classroom and tell me he’s engaged to Bonnie Bennet. “I’m sorry, did you just say your marriage is not in your control?! You either like someone or you don’t, what’s in between that?! Do you expect me to just stay silent as you’re married off to someone else after finally getting to hear you say that you liked me?” I cry out. “No it is not in my control, do you really think I would marry her if I had the choice? The girl who turned your life into a living hell?! It’s a fucking arranged marriage, my mom wants me to be married to a person with ‘pure blood’ and we both know I do not believe in that bullshit.” “I know this is not my place to intervene but do you really want to go through with this?” I ask. “I’ll handle it. I’m going to come back to you, I promise but just… let me figure it out.” He pleaded. I agreed, of course I did. This is Sirius Black we’re talking about.

And I lost you The one I was dancing with in New York No shoes Looked up at the sky and it was maroon The burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was The mark they saw on my collarbone The rust that grew between telephones The lips I used to call home So scarlet, it was maroon

(flashback)

Sirius Black had spent twelve long years locked away in Azkaban, falsely accused of betraying his best friend James Potter and murdering Peter Pettigrew. He had been stripped of everything - his freedom, his reputation, and worst of all, his beloved godson

When he finally managed to escape, he made his way to a small village where he knew I was living. I was there sitting in a small cafe, sipping on a cup of tea. I looked up as he entered the room, and when I saw him, my eyes widened in shock.

"Sirius!" I gasped, jumping up from her seat. "What are you doing here? How did you...?"

Before I could finish the sentence, Sirius was crossing the room and sweeping me up in his arms. He held my tightly, as if I would disappear if he let go, his heart pounding with joy and relief.

"Y/n," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm here. I'm free. And I'm never letting you go again."

My eyes filled with tears as I clung to him. "I can't believe it's really you. I've missed you so much." I whispered.

Sirius pulled back slightly, his deep grey eyes gazing into mine. "I've missed you too, love," he said softly. "More than you can imagine."

We held each other for a long time, both of us crying tears of relief and happiness. When we finally pulled apart, He looked at me with an expression of wonder.

"You still believe in me," he said softly. "After all these years, after everything they said about me, you still believe in me."

"Of course I do," I  replied firmly. "I always have, and I always will. You're one of the best people I've ever known."

We held each other for a long time. Sirius felt as if he had been reborn, as if he had been given a second chance at life. And he knew that he wanted to spend that life with here with me by his side.

"Y/n," he said, taking my face in his hands. "I have to tell you something. Something that's been burning inside me for all these years."

I looked up at him, eyes shining with anticipation. "What is it, Sirius?”

I took a deep breath, my heart racing. "I love you," he said simply. "I've always loved you. And I know now more than ever that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you be with me, Y/n? Will you marry me?"

My eyes widened in shock, and then a smile spread across my face. "Yes," I said, my voice trembling. "Yes, Sirius. I'll marry you. I can’t picture myself with anyone else.”

We kissed then, our lips meeting in a long, sweet embrace that felt like a promise for the future. I knew that there would be challenges ahead, that we would have to fight to clear his name and build a life together. But I also knew that as long as I had him by his side, we could face anything.

And I wake with your memory over me That's a real fuckin' legacy, legacy (It was maroon) And I wake with your memory over me That's a real fuckin' legacy to leave

(flashbacks end)

We had been married for several years now and still loved each other as fiercely as we did on the day we had gotten married. We had been at a party the night before, and I had indulged in a few too many drinks. When I woke up the next morning, I had a pounding headache and a sense of disorientation.

Sirius was already up, and he was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me with a mixture of amusement and concern.

"Good morning, love," he said, handing me a glass of water and some painkillers. "How are you feeling?"

I groaned, holding my head in my hands. "Like I've been hit by the Hogwarts Express," I said, trying to sit up. "What happened last night?"

He smiled. "You don't remember?"

I shook my head, wincing at the pain in my temples. "No," I said. "I must have been more out of it than I thought."

He chuckled. "Well, let me fill you in," he said. "You spent most of the night dancing with me, telling me how much you love me, and kissing me like you couldn't get enough."

I felt a warm glow spread through my chest as I remembered the way I had felt last night, the way Sirius had looked in his gorgeous dress robes, and the way he had smiled at me with such affection. "I did all that, huh?" Ie said, smiling.

He nodded, his eyes shining with love. "You did," he said. "And then you got a little too drunk and started telling everyone that you have the most beautiful husband in the world and that you're the luckiest person alive to be married to him."

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you," I said, reaching out to take his hand. "But I meant every word. You are the most amazing, wonderful, beautiful man I have ever known. I love you more than anything."

His eyes softened, and he leaned in to kiss me gently. "I love you too, darling," he said. "And I forgive you for any embarrassment you may have caused. As long as you remember how lucky you are to be with me."

I grinned. "I'll never forget it," I said. "Especially not after a night like last night. I'm so grateful to have you in my life, Siri. Hangover or not, I'm the happiest person alive."

It’s moments like these where I wonder how lucky I am to have this gorgeous human being with me. We’ve been through hell and back and I swear he makes me fall more in love with him each time I look at him. I just hope I can keep these moments with me forever & always.

The burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet It was maroon The mark they saw on my collarbone The rust that grew between telephones The lips I used to call home So scarlet, it was maroon

It was maroon It was maroon

[blackjackkent]

"It is absolutely preposterous that any of us are alive!" Hope cries out as Raphael's body collapses against the marble floor. A pause, and then her eyes widen. "Maybe we're not. PINCH YOURSELF AND CHECK WE'RE NOT DREAMING THE LAST OF OUR LIVES AS WE DIE SCREAMING!"

Hector looks at her blearily; leaning against the wall, he slides slowly down into a sitting position, feeling the slow creep of pain through him as the adrenaline fades and the burns all over his body start to make themselves known. "We're fine, Hope..." he mutters hoarsely. "We did it."

"Then we're not just fine - we're spectacular!" she says brightly. "What a wonderful, jubilant, glorious day!" Her head snaps sideways, looking to one corpse amidst the pile of bodies in the chamber. "OH BUT MY POOR SISTER KORRILLA!" she bellows, a sudden wail of grief. "It is not right that she died, and it makes me want to weep an ocean..."

Hector lets out a heavy breath, following her gaze. Korrilla is stretched on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling; her head sits at an odd angle where Yurgir broke her neck. "I don't think there was any way to save her," he says quietly.

Her eyes narrow thoughtfully. "When we were children, she always kept the last piece of pastry for me. And bloodied the nose of the bullies who pulled my hair... She was my sister..." A pause. She squares her shoulders and looks up at Hector with a sudden earnestness. "But as a wise woman once said, there's no point in crying over spilt blood. We must go on. And despite all the years I've lost, I have enough love in my heart to guide you home."

Narrator: For the first time since you heard her voice, Hope seems calm. And the peace flows from her into you, soothing your very soul.

Hector half-closes his eyes, focusing on the welcome moment of serenity. It does nothing to dull the pain of his injuries... but it means, at the very least, that this is over. And he can't help admiring the tormented dwarf's bravery in this moment - to still look forward after everything that has happened to her.

"What will you do?" he asks.

She smiles just a little. "I'll hope," she says simply. "What else? I hope I'll see Korrilla again one day, and that she'll say sorry, and I'll tell her she's forgiven. I hope I'll find all the pieces of my mind that fell out of my head over all those years, and that I'll be able to put myself back together again. I hope the echoes of pain will fade, and memories of sorrow will die, and that you'll visit me here some day."

She steps forward, rests a hand against his cheek. Her palm feels feverishly warm, and yet the touch is gentle and soothing. "And I hope you have a happy ending of your own."

He looks up into her eyes, and though he smiles back, it is a sad expression. Little chance of that, I think, little one, he thinks to himself. But the words are a blessing, kindly meant, and he folds them into his soul where they will live alongside all the other little bits of hope he carries with them, in the hope that they will bolster him when the dark times come...

-----

Minsc is looking around wildly, in search of another enemy to strike; the wild frenzy of the rage is in his eyes and he narrowly avoids slamming his trident into Karlach as he turns.

"Easy, buddy," she mutters, putting out a hand on his arm. She can feel that every sinew of his body is stretched tight, his heart pounding.

It takes a few moments for him to calm, for the mad rage to clear out of his eyes, for him to realize that Raphael is dead. "He has killed her!" he snarls at Karlach, who flinches back under the ferocity of his expression. "He has killed Jaheira! Another witch dead before Minsc's eyes!"

Were the moment less tense, Karlach might point out that Jaheira had insisted she was not Minsc's witch, but it's not the point, not really. Witch or not, Minsc has watched his best friend crumble in the fire, just as Karlach once watched Hector die in a similar sea of flame. And there is some greater weight in Minsc's words too - a history of other deaths that could not be prevented.

"I know-- I know," Karlach says hastily. "But it's all right. We can revive her. I've got a scroll in my pack--" She pulls one of the curled sheets of paper out, offers it towards him.

He snatches it from her wordlessly, crouches at Jaheira's side, beginning to mumble the words of the spell as Boo scurries back and forth in agitation on his shoulders. Karlach stands next to him, shifting uncertainly, not sure whether to stay with him or go to Hector...

The pale gold light of the Revivify spell begins to swirl around Jaheira's body; she twitches, coughs painfully, her eyes flickering open.

"Ah," she says vaguely, looking up at Minsc. "Is it over, then?"

Minsc's eyebrows lift and he smiles widely in relief and joy. Heedless of her injuries, he lifts her in a full body hug; she gives a soft grunt of pain and pushes weakly at his shoulder.

"Careful, you great ox of a man," she mumbles. "I am only so many inches from death's door; take care you do not knock me back over the threshold..."

"Should I do so, Minsc would travel into death to find you," Minsc says gravely. He loosens his embrace but does not quite let go of her. "I failed you," he adds soberly. "I did not protect you, my--" A slight pause. "My friend."

"Did you not?" she asks with a slight smile. "I am here, and our enemy is not. What more could be asked?"

Minsc narrows his eyes thoughtfully. "I think this is wisdom which Minsc does not form so easily in his brain," he says slowly. "But if Jaheira says it is so, then he must believe it."

With the situation in something resembling calm, Karlach draws back away from them, moves to kneel at Hector's side. "All right, soldier?" she asks quietly.

He looks up at her with a weary smile, presses his palm to the chest of her armor as if reassuring himself of her presence. "I never grow tired of this," he says dryly. "The pain in every limb, the feeling of having been run over by rampaging rothe."

"Glorious, isn't it?" she answers in similar tone, and ruffles her fingers gently through his hair. It's sticky with blood, like the rest of him, and her fingers come away covered in it. "But hey... not so bad, the feeling of going to rest afterwards, right? We should get to that part."

"I couldn't agree with you more..."

[radioheadyaoi]

some photos from my arctic monkeys concert!!

i meant to post some stuff sooner but i got distracted. let me tell you, what an incredible concert. they truly know how to put on a show and alex is just so captivating on stage. you can't take your eyes off of him, he's just so good. we were really close to the stage, and to one of the screens, so i was able to get lots of good shots.

some highlights from the night:

body paint intro ran for about 4 minutes and i was able to get it all on video. body paint sounds so fucking good live, it was made to be heard that way.

HELLO YOU LIVE DEBUT!!!!! i SCREAMED when they started singing it. i had spent all day talking about it, telling my friend how everyone wanted hello you live and how lucky we would be to get it and we did!

the previously posted about "cause i am a fool for-- WAIT! i'm a fool for ya vancouvaaaaah" during suck it and see, which by the way, i was not expecting them to perform and lost my mind when they did. it sounded SO GOOD. between hello you live debut and i'm a fool for you vancouver, alex LOVES canada.

the teddy picker crying lightning transition!!! holy shit!!!! i'd seen people talking about it, but i'd never watched any of the videos so i only knew of it and not what it was and by god was it good.

the flashlights during perfect sense!!! i didn't get photos of it cause it wouldn't look as good, but its the atmosphere the song deserves.

speaking of perfect sense, five songs from the car!!! sculptures of anything goes, body paint, there'd better be a mirrorball, perfect sense, hello you.

got to hear some of my favourites: knee socks, fluorescent adolescent, tbbam, sculptures, sias, teddy picker. a very good setlist, i'd say, everything sounded so good.

the mirrorball drop during 505 and into there'd better be a mirrorball... i don't know how to describe it except that it was heavenly. i'd do anything to experience it all over again.

loved loved loved seeing alex be silly on stage.

we were on the side of the stage that they entered and exited from, and let me tell you, there was something about seeing them come up the stairs a second before everyone else did, and starting to scream.

i sang myself hoarse. last time i did that, i was at taylor swift. my voice sounded AWFUL after the concert.

got two shirts, the pins, and my friend got the poster for me <333 the vancouver poster is really cool

there was this moment of oh my god he's real!!! alex turner is real!!!! he is real and he is incredible. one of the very best concerts i've ever been too.

some photos and videos! I'll reblog with some more, cause there are many.

[oldestenemy]

the deathless, the undying, and the unwilling divine - part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

The wizard feels eyes on them here.

A presence both familiar and far away.

The memory of a duel.

The memory of their own eyes and not.

“Wait—” They throw out both arms to stop everyone, movement ahead solidifying into the presence they remember. Into the shape of someone else seemingly torn from her rest.

“Professor Drake?” Duncan pushes past their outstretched arm towards the ghost of Sylvia Drake, sounding softer and smaller than the wizard thinks they’ve ever heard. “You—” He stops himself just before reaching her, knowing that she’s incorporeal, maybe not wanting the confirmation.

It’s hard to tell, and they wouldn’t know.

They’d never asked what any of the other students relationships with Sylvia were like.

Despite her obvious confusion, a smile breaks across Sylvia’s face. “Hello, Duncan.” Her gaze falls behind him, alighting on the other death students, and then the wizard as their arms drop. “What kind of nightmare do I find myself in, dear—” the next words out of her mouth don’t quite compute.

It’s their name.

And yet, like everything else, it’s out of reach here.

Nobody hears it.

Nobody speaks it.

Unacknowledged in its nonexistence.

Other things someday they might pry from Raven’s grip, screaming themself hoarse at the edge of her tree. It doesn’t matter now. Only one thing matters right now.

“—the last thing I recall was you putting an end to my Malistaire’s pursuit of the dragon titan, we were given the chance to move on, to be at peace but…” She trails off, gaze moving even farther off in thought. “A chanting began, a low and endless call that stirred him from rest. I could do nothing but watch as he was drawn away from me into Shadow, towards Azteca and—”

“—Towards me.” The wizard finishes, “I’m sorry, I hoped that by killing Morganthe I could send him back too but—I—” Their throat is closing again, eyes burning, normally burning, hot and wet with tears that would run clear instead of starlit ink. Dammit they hate crying, they hate the way it makes people look at them.

“That’s why we’re here.” Duncan says, and Sylvia—thankfully—looks back to him, “To make sure you’re both returned properly to the other side.”

Her expression softens again at his words, “I am glad you’re here, all of you. I do not know much of what the witch—” She says the word in such a way that it is clear she would like to say something stronger. “—Morganthe has done to Malistaire, but she shattered the tranquil state of his mind and sung his pain skyward. He became her plaything before I lost sight of him.”

“What I don’t understand about this,” Malorn starts, “we know Morganthe brought Malistaire back—but, Professor—how are you here?”

“I confess I am as lost in that as you,” Sylvia tells him, “I was not pulled through to Azteca, I awoke here, not long before your arrival.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ah, return of secondary villain extraordinaire. Shane Von Shane—in his ridiculous armor—joins them once again. “Good Mistress Drake, Malistaire simply adores you too much to be without you, and has vowed never to let you drift apart again. You will rule this place and more at his side, eternally.”

“You talk an awful lot for a pipsqueak vampire that got beat up by a bunch of—what was it—foolish children? Less than an hour ago.” Marla tells him, “Are you going to put up a proper fight this time around or am I going to get bored before the third round even starts?”

Sylvia Drake smiles again, seemingly ignoring Von Shane on purpose. “I’m glad to see that even without his guidance, you three have grown into wonderful necromancers.”

“We had a legacy to live up to.” Malorn replies, stepping in to form a line between Marla and Duncan to make sure the duel begins in the correct order.

“Well then, put it to good use—and put this fluttering bat to rest.” The wizard wonders if they are imagining the glint of angry satisfaction in Sylvia’s translucent eyes. But remembers that she is not just Sylvia Drake, the softly remembered Life Professor. She is Sylvia Spitfire—the almost scourge of the whole spiral itself.

“Vile spirit,” Von Shane spits at her, “Would you all cleave the sun from a rose? The moon from the stars? Would you extinguish music from the very spiral?”

The wizard pulls out the shadow point again, ready to place their extra circle. A quick nod to the others as they take their places. Out of the corner of their vision, Sylvia vanishes, and the duel begins.

He puts up a better fight this time, it’s clear to see Marla is enjoying the added challenge—perhaps because it’s more in line with the history of the supposedly great vampire lord. The wizard is glad one of them is at least getting something in the positive vein out of this experience.

This does give them the chance to test out Donate Shadow—with some coordination and a well timed death prism to make sure Marla’s spell does proper damage—and it works perfectly. Though the additional waiting slows things down, they can’t help thinking it’s an interesting utility. Especially given the spells from Tatyana would be useless to their friends otherwise. It also seems to ebb a little of the strain away—only barely—enough that the wizard feels a little warmer, doesn’t seem so close to the edge of too much. Carving their extra placements with the shadow point can only negate so much overuse.

That final Call of Khrulhu—followed by additional off-school hits from Duncan and Malorn—ends things.

Shane Von Shane’s carefully constructed mech suit stutters and halts, the magical power holding it together vanishing with his defeat. He shrieks as the pieces collapse, cursing them and flapping away towards a broken window.

“I beg all of you be cautious as you go onwards.” Sylvia reappears, gaze on the ceiling. “I can feel my Malistaire somewhere above, twisting in the coil of shadow. I no longer know whether he can be saved—but if it is possible, it lies in your hands.”

“We should stay here just for a minute,” Penny says quietly, she’s been more reserved since Sylvia’s appearance. The wizard thinks perhaps she feels a little out of place, the only one among them to have never met the two fallen Drakes. “Potions, all of you. We need to go into this as strong as we can.”

The wizard is concocting a plan while the others recover. Fingers tracing the Moon sigil, embedded with a touch of their own shadow, stepping back into the darkness near the stairs and hoping the double they leave behind is convincing.

Sylvia sees it as they step away, but says nothing to alert their companions.

Maybe she understands.

There is too much at risk here.

Too much danger.

They have to face him alone—their friends can say goodbye after it’s done.

Read the whole series here <3

[ashesandhackles]

Fritter

Written for @harrypocter fest - "Winter Sun" Prompt: Parvati Patil Summary: Parvati and Dean have a talk. OOTP timeline.

She felt arms grab her from behind, lifting her off Pansy’s body with ease. “Let me go!” she didn’t care who had caught her.  All she cared was digging into Pansy’s skin, to break it open-

“Have you lost your mind?” Pansy shouted. Her face bore her scratches, and Parvati felt vicious satisfaction from it. “Saali kutti,” Parvati screamed, her throat hoarse, her hair flying out of the plait from places Pansy had grabbed. “Say that to my face again, and I will kill you!”

Students gathered around Pansy and it only served to make Parvati angrier. 

“Let me go,” she could guess who it was, from the dark arms which held her waist. At sufficient distance from the commotion, Dean let her go.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “You could have gotten in trouble.”

“For defending myself?” Parvati’s nostrils flared.

“Doesn’t count for much,” Dean shrugged. “You forgot who is running the school now.”

“How can you say that?” she demanded. 

“I’m not saying let them say whatever the hell they want,” he pointed out. “Just don’t get caught. If it makes you feel better, I let you get a couple of swings in before I intervened.”

Parvati felt her lips tug into a smile.  “Fine, I forgive you.”

“Forgive me?” Dean grinned. “Remind me not to save you next time.”

“You were only saving Parkinson there,” she pointed out. “You know, I wonder if you ever liked her..”

“C’mon Parvati,” he rolled his eyes. “You know.”

“Know what?” she knew she was being deliberately coy with the knowledge that Dean found her and her sister to be the "best-looking girls in the year". It was something he had mentioned in passing to cheer her up after Harry's neglect of her in the Yule Ball.

Dean flipped through his bag and pulled out his sketchbook. Rifling through the pages, he held out a sketch of -

“Padma,” she whispered as she took the sketch from him. 

“Damn, I was really hoping I could pass off that sketch as you,” Dean said. “How did you know?”

Parvati slapped his arm. “Same way you did. Her nose is slightly longer than mine. I have a pakora nose.”

“A-what nose?”

“Have you never had a pakora?"

Dean shook his head.

"I'll get it for you one day. But I was trying to say I have a fat nose.”

“No chief,” Dean pinched the bridge of her nose. "I do not accept."

Parvati swatted his hand away, smiling. Read on Ao3 here.

saali kutti is Hindi equivalent of "you bitch." You are welcome. pakora - deep fried fritters, usually made with potatoes, or onions as a filling (there are many kinds of pakoras). It is a tea-time snack in Indian sub-continent.

[ambrosewriter]

Jagged Apology

Naomi has just found Seiko in the bathroom after looking tirelessly for her. What happens next only adds to the nightmare.

This is an extension of Wrong End 1 ★2 of Chapter 1 in BloodCovered: Repeated Fear !!This fic does not follow the ending faithfully, rather it is my interpretation of it.

“Seiko!! Seiko!! Where are you? Answer me! Please!”

My throat is hoarse from shouting. I can’t believe I allowed myself to yell at Seiko the way I did. She didn’t deserve the attitude I threw at her; we’re stuck in the same boat, after all.

“Seiko!! Seiko!!”

At some point, I blanked out. It felt like my mind was detached from my body, and I was left to watch myself wander aimlessly in the same hallways.

When I came to, I found myself on the third floor, where the bathrooms are.

“Seiko! Seiko, are you up here?!”

I took a minute to breathe. I’ve run through the first and second floors so many times; she must be hiding up here.

“Seiko… please be up here.”

I walked further onto the floor. Turning the corner, a quiet thud came from the end of the hallway, from the girl’s restroom. I ignored the boy’s bathroom and walked right to the other one.

“Seiko… are you in here?” 

Walking in, the air felt heavier than before. The sound was louder than it was in the hallway. 

Thud. 

Thud.

“Sei… ko…”

Thud.

The sound was coming from the fourth stall. The one that was originally locked when Seiko and I passed through the first time, and the one Seiko… did her business in the second time. Stepping in front of it, I saw uwabaki shoes sitting on the floor, neatly placed, facing the wall. My hand loomed over the handle, scared of what could be hiding behind the door.

It creaked open, and something more horrible than everything I’d seen so far sat in front of my eyes.

Seiko was hanging from a noose. There was a bucket toppled over towards the back.

“SEIKO!! NO!!”

I shouted and fell back onto the floor. All of my searching was useless. She was here, and surely if I got here sooner, I could of-

“Na… o… mi…”

“Seiko? Seiko!” 

She’s still alive! Thank god.

“Hold on Seiko, let me get the rope undone!”

 I got back onto my feet and reached behind Seiko’s neck to get to the knot in the rope. Wrapping my fingers around the knot, I tried to untie it to no avail. Every attempt to loosen it tightened it more.

“Guh!”

“Ahh! Sorry, sorry!” 

I backed away and began to panic again. What could I do?

“Hold on Seiko. I’m going to go find something to stand on.”

Maybe my height was getting in the way of adequately getting that knot undone. I walked back out into the hallway and was greeted with an answer to my prayers. There was a bucket full of unidentifiable meat right by the door. Maggots and other bugs were feasting away at the rotting organs. It took everything in me to grab it by the rim and toss the contents onto the floor and walls. Some of the grub found its way onto my arms, legs, and uniform. 

“Geh. Ew, ew, ew! Anything for Seiko.”

I rushed back in, in front of Seiko.

"Seiko! Seiko! I'm back, let me-"

Something changed during the minute I was gone. Seiko was swinging listlessly in the stall, and it seemed she had lost control of her bowels. The filthy bucket fell from my hands as I moved to catch myself.

Seiko Shinohara, my best friend, the one person I was trapped with through something short of a miracle, is now dead.

"NOOOOOOOOO!!!"

A primal scream roared out of me. 

"Seiko, why?! Why did you hang yourself?!"

I can't take this anymore. It never should have ended up like this. We were supposed to send Suzumoto off with smiles and a memento of her time at Kisaragi. We were never supposed to be here. Seiko and I were never supposed to be stranded on our lonesome.

"Seiko... I'm so sorry Seiko...'

I was blubbering like a baby in front of her. My wailing echoed all throughout the room.

“Seiko… Seiko… please say something, anything!”

We were supposed to get out together; that's what she said earlier. She was trying to remain optimistic while we were stuck here. How long was she feeling like this?

Hee hee...

Haa haa...

Aha haa…

The sound of children’s laughter began to ring throughout the space. With a woosh sound, three children surrounded me and pinned me against the wall.

“Wha…?”

They were still laughing, whether at me directly or the situation in general, I don’t know, but it didn’t seem to let up. 

“Child spirits?!”

Their unnatural blue glow was blinding. The child in front of me had no head above the jaw, the girl to my right was missing her left eye, and the boy to my left had a large dark stain on his abdomen. 

Hee hee…

Haa haa…

I tried to move and get away, but I was frozen in place. The only thing I’m able to move is my head, and not by a lot either, only enough to see the two children at my sides. The one in front picked my hand up, placed a large pair of scissors into it, and guided it to my mouth. Another one of them off to my side pulled my jaw down, and the headless child continued to push the scissors into my mouth. I tried to fight it, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. The blades bounced on my molars and made its way to my tonsils.

The children disappeared as if their job was done.

“What? What am I doing?”

I pulled the scissors out of my mouth.

Aha haa…

Hee hee…

Haa haa…

My other hand that wasn’t holding the scissors wormed its way into my mouth and grabbed ahold of my tongue.

What?! What am I doing? Stop! STOP!!

It's futile. The scissors separated and joined again right at the base of my tongue, or at least as close as it could get. 

“GGAHHH!”

One snip wasn’t enough to make it through. I was shearing away nonstop to sever the muscle out of my mouth.

I snipped… and snipped… and snipped…

Eventually, there was a quiet, fleshy thud as my tongue fell onto the floor in front of me. The edge where it was severed was jagged, similar to a toddler learning to cut a piece of paper for the first time. Blood was pouring out of my mouth like a neverending font.

I fell onto my chest and slid across the floor as my legs extended. Attempting to look up one last time, I positioned myself on my elbows.

“Hehoo… I’hh sho shorry…”

My tears and blood mixed on the floor as I began to lose consciousness. Maybe now, we’ll be able to escape this hell together.

a/n: thank you so much for reading the second Wrong End Extension !! this one was so much fun to write, i made my friends proofread this and they all came back sobbing (hehehehe) be sure to show some love on my ao3 (ambrose_writer) as well !

[helenaheissner]

Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 31

Kate

I sat across from Eric Gaines, a wall of glass between us, a two-way phone pressed to my ear as I took in the sight of my former sponsor clad in an orange jumpsuit. The atmosphere on my side of the lock-up was rancid, but on the other side… Gaines looked like he hadn’t slept or bathed in several days, and like he’d barely eaten a scrap during that time either. 

He looked like shit. 

I told him as much. Directly. 

“What do you want, Calloway?” he asked, barely hiding the contempt behind his barred teeth. 

“I want an explanation,” I said. 

He blinked. “What?”

“Did I stutter?” I asked, my eyes narrow and my tone flat. “I want to know why you did what you did. What’s complicated about that question?”

“... Are you serious?” he said, genuine confusion cracking in his voice.  

It was as if my mind were a kettle full of water and the heat from the stove just cranked up a number. “Yeah, Gaines, I’m serious. Why did you do what you did?”

“To make money, you idiot,” he said very slowly, as if he were talking to a small, severely concussed child. 

“I was making you money. Me. And you threw it away,” I said. “I was gonna win you a championship. You would have had a giant fucking gold trophy to display in your office.”

“Oh for- do you seriously not get it?” Gaines said. “You’re a liability. If you’d won, I’d suddenly have to hitch my wagon to political cause I don’t believe in for probably the rest of my life and alienate half my clients as a result. And if you’d lost- which, given who you’re going up against, you almost definitely will- I’d have to drop you as a client after sinking countless amounts of time and money into your faggoty ass. It would have been for NOTHING. Do you get it now, you stupid little shit? You weren’t a risk worth taking.”

The heat went up another one, two, three notches. “And this was?!” I said, gesturing to the literal prison around me. “Committing a crime was worth it? Potentially going to jail was worth it-”

“Eh, I’m not too worried about that,” Gaines shrugged. “I got a good lawyer. I’ll make bail. And if not, the sentence will be light. I’m a first-time offender and it was ultimately a victimless crime-”

The water began to bubble. “Victimless?! What about me?!” I bellowed, my voice dropping lower than it had in WEEKS.

“What about you?” he said blankly. 

The water reached a raging boil. “Oh fuck you, you lying sack of shit! Fuck you! FUCK YOU!” I screamed, standing up and kicking my chair back. 

I kept screaming those words even as the guards hauled me away and chucked me out of the police station. I kept muttering them under my breath the entirety of my drive home. I kept shouting them inside my head as I parked my car in the driveway at home and stormed up the stairs past both of my parents and slammed the door to my room. 

I flopped on my bed and buried my face in my pillow and just SCREAMED into it.

My voice went hoarse, and finally I stopped, but my face remained in my pillow, tears and makeup and snot tarnishing the pink casing I stayed there, face-down in my own disgusting misery for what felt like hours, ignoring the knocks on my door from my concerned parents, ignoring the dings and rings of my cell phone, ignoring everything but my anger and depression. 

I didn’t have much in the way of a savings account- paying for community college largely by myself had done a number on that, even with the added benefits of a part-time job and living with my parents rent-free. I had no sponsor, and a busted up robot that I only had six days to get into state of semi-functionality before I had a rematch with a bot I already knew was capable of kicking my ass. 

And that was before I took into account the still active question of ‘can I really bring myself to fight my partners?’

Truthfully, I had no idea. I’d changed a lot- like, A LOT. I looked different, I felt different, I acted different… 

… I USUALLY acted different. Today… Today, at the police station, I’d regressed. I’d slipped back into being a total jackass, and now that the adrenaline high and fleeting illusion of control were rapidly dissipating, all I had left was shame digging through me like mud wasps through my bare flesh. 

Fuck. 

FUCK!

I felt like the old me. Like Keith. And I hated that guy. 

If this was how I reacted when my sponsor dropped me… How would I react when I got humiliated by the same pair of incredibly sexy geniuses on national television for the second year in a row? Would I be able to contain myself? Would I be able to keep being me? Would they… Would they want ANYTHING to do with me? 

Faith used to spend hours complaining about how annoying Keith was. 

Zeke… Tolerated Keith, but barely. 

I couldn’t go back. 

But with no money and barely functional bot, what else did I have but my anger?

“Katie? Honey, please say something,” Mom’s sweet, gentle voice came through the door. 

I finally rolled over and looked up. The sun was setting, when it had been high in the sky upon my return home. Jesus Christ, I’d barely even noticed how much time had gone by. “Yeah, Mom?” I said, wincing with shame at my own low voice. I breathed in, held it in my chest, and spoke as I breathed out, “What is it?”

“There’s someone here to see you.”

Panic lanced my chest and damn-near disemboweled me. “I, uh, don’t think I can see Zeke or Faith right now.”

“It’s not either of them.”

“Hm? Who is it, then?”

“They said their name is Tom, but… I don’t think that will still be true in a few weeks.”

I blinked. Tom… Like Olivia’s teammate, Tom? “Gimme a sec to wash my face, and I’ll be right there.”

“Sounds good. They’re waiting for you downstairs.”

I cleaned the disaster area that was my face with makeup wipes and cold water, then slapped a quick layer of moisturizer onto my visage before I ambled down the stairs and found a familiar individual waiting for me at the bottom. It was definitely Olivia’s teammate, but he… They… Were wearing a long blue sundress and a full face of makeup. Their nails were manicured and lacquered silver, and they carried a beige tote bag over their shoulder. 

“Hi,” I said, approaching them slowly. 

“Hi,” they said. 

Silence sat between the two of us, heavy as an anvil, for a few agonizing minutes before I said,“So, uh… You’re like me?” I asked. 

“I think so, yeah,” the tall black girl answered, rubbing the back of her head nervously. “Still figuring it out- haven’t totally committed to any pronouns yet, but… I’m thinking Tamara, for my new name.”

“I like it,” I said, mustering up a smile. “Tamara. It suits you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled back. “Olivia… She, uh, didn’t react super well-”

“Of course she fucking didn’t,” I rolled my eyes. 

“Yeahhh, that girl’s got issues,” Tamara said. “Listen, I just wanted to apologize for… Well, for everything that she put you through.”

“It’s okay-”

“No, it’s not okay,” Tamara shook her head. “She was horrible to you. And to Faith, by the sound of it. And I think… Watching what she did, knowing the horrible reasons she did it… It made me start asking myself questions that I had previously been too scared to try to answer.”

“OH,” I said, taking a step forward.

“So I guess I also wanted to say thank you. I know you didn’t intend it- we barely know each other- but regardless, you helped me. So, thank you.”

“No problem,” I said, hoping my voice wasn’t cracking. 

“I also wanted to give you something,” Tamara said before gesturing to the door behind her. “Follow me? It’s right outside.”

I nodded, and I followed her outside to find… Boxes. Boxes full of machinery. Full of… Full of ROBOT PARTS HOLY SHIT!

“Funny story,” Tamara said. “Olivia helped us build Tooth Fairy, but the design was all mine and Winston’s. And we own the trademark on it, because it was built at my dad’s garage. I can afford to rebuild, but my season is over. Yours isn’t. Take it. Rebuild. Fight. Win.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I said, running my hands through my hair, blinking rapidly. 

“Just say ‘thanks,’” Tamara said. “That’s all I need to hear. Only asking price I need.”

“Thank you!” I beamed, bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet with excitement. “Wait- does Winston know you’re doing this?”

“He drove me,” Tamara said, hitching her thumb back at the silver minivan behind her, wherein the short, slender young man sat behind the driver’s seat, clad in a perfectly-tailored three-piece gray suit. “We’re going on our first date after this.”

“Oh!” I said. “Good for you two.”

“Yeah. Olivia bounced right after I came out, and as soon as she left, Winston confessed he’d been crushing on me for a while now.”

“Sounds like a solid guy,” I smiled. “Hold onto him.”

“I will,” Tamara nodded. “And you hold onto your people as well. 

I gave a deep nod. “I will.”

“And good luck in the finals!” Tamara said, heading back towards her and Winston’s minivan. “I’ll be in the crowd! See you there!”

“See you!” I said, waving good-bye to the young couple.

I watched the freshly-hatched trans girl drive away with her presumably soon-to-be boyfriend, then bent my knees and picked up the big box of parts. 

All that was left to do now was parse through what I had and get to work. 

***

The rest of the night was a blur. I didn’t leave the garage until it was time for my opening shift at the shop, and once that was done, it was right back to the garage. 

A day passed like that, then two, three. I wasn’t checking my phone, I was barely paying attention at dinner. I was sleeping three hours a night and then waking up and showering and getting right to work. 

My parents weren’t too concerned- I’d been much the same going into the finals last year. Still, they shared those Looks every once and a while, and if I had to guess, they meant ‘I was hoping she’d outgrown this kind of behavior.’

I was hoping I had as well. But times were desperate. 

I didn’t know if I’d be able to beat Zeke and Faith. But I did know that if I didn’t try my absolute hardest, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. I wouldn’t be able to respect myself ever again. 

That’s what I was telling myself, anyway. I told myself that right up until I climbed out of bed on Thursday night and scrambled to the garage and found my boyfriend and girlfriend both waiting for me there. Zeke had his arms folded together, while Faith’s hands were planted firmly on her hips. 

“Ah!” I yelped, walking backwards until I found myself against the closed door. “Uh… Hey, cuties. How’s it going?”

“Oh you know, it’s going,” Zeke said in monotone. 

“Katie, what the hell?” Faith said incredulously. 

“Whatever do you mean?” I chuckled nervously. 

“You don’t call, you don’t text-”

“I’ve been busy!”

“You’ve been avoiding us,” Faith said, eyebrows scrunched. 

“No I haven’t!”

“Kate,” Zeke said, taking a step forward. “You’ve been avoiding us. Very obviously.”

“...”

“Kate.”

“...”

“KATE.”

“... Okay, maybe I have,” I said, looking down at the floor, shame and disgust rising from my core to my mind and flooding out all other feelings. “I’m sorry… I just… Just…”

“Just what?” Faith said, relaxing her posture, taking a step forward herself. 

“I’m scared, okay!” I said, closing my eyes and shaking my head back and forth rapidly. 

“Scared of what?” Faith said as I heard her inching ever closer. 

“Of what comes next,” I said, ceasing to shake my head but still not opening my eyes. The array of colors behind my eyelids, the lights from outside filtered in through a solid screen of skin, were harsh and disparate, while the surrounding soundscape was eerily quiet but for the forward footsteps of the people I loved. “What if… What if I win, and I turn into a jerk again? Will you still love me? What if the person I am now is just something I’ve tricked myself into being, and once it gets too hard, I won’t be that person anymore? What if success goes to my head and I become someone you both hate? What if-”

Suddenly, two sets of arms wrapped around me, two bodies intertwined around my slender frame, holding me up when everything in me was telling me to fall down. 

I opened my eyes, and I was surrounded by love. 

“Katherine Miranda Calloway, you are the only person I know who would worry this much about being too successful,” Faith said. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be sorry,” Faith smiled. “It’s one of the things I love about you.”

“L-love?” I said. “You love me?”

“Hell yeah I love you,” Faith said, kissing me on the cheek. 

“Same here,” Zeke said, replicating the gesture. 

“Okay, but if I lose, and I turn into a jerk again?” I said. 

“Then don’t turn into a jerk,” Zeke said. 

“But-”

“It’s not nearly as complicated as you’re making it out to be, babe,” Zeke said. 

“Yeah seriously, babe, babe is right. Listen to babe,” Faith said. 

“I love you both,” I whispered. “So damn much.”

They both pressed their foreheads against my temples, one on each side, their lips right in front of one of my ears. “We know.”

“What do you need?” Faith said. 

“I… I need to try my hardest,” I said. “I don’t know if I need to win. But I need to know that I did everything I could to win.”

“Makes sense,” Zeke said.

“And I need the both of you to do the same,” I said. “Don’t hold back. Give me everything you’ve got. The whole scope of all three of us and all that we’re capable of- I wanna leave it all out in the battle box.”

Faith grinned. “I think we can arrange that.”

Zeke’s smile was softer, subtler. “There’s, uh, something we wanted to discuss with you, though. About next season-”

“Not yet,” I said with a deep gulp. “I think I can guess what you’re about to say, but… Not until after the last match. Okay?”

From my peripheral vision, I saw them both nod. “Sounds good,” they said in tandem.

I kissed them both on the mouth, ladies first, then a bit of tongue for the gentleman. 

“Is there anything else you need?” Zeke said. 

“Anything at all?” Faith asked. 

“... Just a little more time,” I said gently. “Polyphemus is almost ready. And the fight is tomorrow. I’ve got some surprises in store, and I need the rest of the next twenty-four hours to put the finishing touches together. So just… A little more time. And then after the fight… Well, we walk all together, hands in hands, towards the future. Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” Faith whispered.

“Agreed,” Zeke said. 

They held me tight for a little while longer, silent and steady as they kept me propped up. I loved them for it, but I knew… I knew I couldn’t always rely on them to hold me together. It wasn’t fair to them, or to me. I loved them, and I… I wanted to prove to myself that I could hold my own. It wasn’t about proving to them that I was worthy of their love. It was about proving to myself that I deserved to be happy, and that I could make myself happy. 

I wanted to be the person they saw me as. And no matter what happened, if I kept pushing forward… Then maybe I’d finally see myself the way the people I love saw me.

***

“Mom? Dad? Are you proud of me?” I asked. 

I sat in front of my vanity mirror doing my makeup, going for a look with extra pop tonight for the finals. I was clad in the nicest dress I had, a pink sequin gown with light blue opera gloves, applying dark eyeshadow and heavy mascara while Mom used a curling iron on my platinum tresses. Poly was loaded up into the truck, and Dad stood in the doorway of my room leaning against the frame with his arms folded. 

“What kinda question is that?” Dad asked. “Of course we’re proud of you. You’ve made it to the championships two years in a row out of two years in the pros. And you’ve got two fantastic partners. And frankly, you’re our daughter. Of course we’re proud of you.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

“Why do you ask, anyway?” Mom said. 

“... Nerves, I guess. Part of me worries you won’t be proud of me if I lose tonight.”

“Katherine-”

“I know, I know,” I said with a chuckle, setting down the eyeshadow brush and grabbing the tube of red lipstick. “I’m projecting. I do that.”

“So then you just need to stay proud of yourself, no matter what happens tonight,” Dad said. “Simple as that.”

“Yeah,” I said with a slight smile. I popped my lips as I did my lipstick. 

“And you should be,” Mom said. “You’ve come so far and changed so much in a short time. Kate… We are both so damn proud of the woman you’ve grown into. And you should be too.”

“Thanks,” I said, putting the lipstick down while Mom put the finishing touches on my hair. I turned to face them both. “How do I look?”

“Absolutely beautiful,” Mom said. 

Dad flinched, his jaw dropping. 

“What?” I asked, furrowing my brow as the embers of my nerves were stoked.

“N-nothing,” Dad said. “You just… You look so much like your mother. It’s uncanny.”

Pure willpower was the only thing holding back a river of tears threatening to ruin the hard work I’d done on my makeup. Instead I breathed in a sharp breath through my nose and sighed wistfully, then smiled as wide as I could. “Thank you. I love you guys- you’re the best parents ever.”

“Heh, I wouldn’t go that far,” Dad said, rubbing the back of his head. “But we try. And we love you too, kiddo.”

“So damn much,” Mom said. “Now c’mon. You’ve got a date with destiny.”

I nodded. “Let’s go.”

***

By the time we arrived, the third place bout was already done. Team Tooth Fairy had declined the invitation due to the massive repairs they needed and the fact that they were down their main pilot (good riddance), so it left Ansible fighting Pendulum for the proverbial bronze metal. 

Gregson was already giving his post-victory interview when I wheeled Poly out on a sledge. Good for him. Couldn’t wait to fight him again next season. 

As the battle box was cleared and everyone got into position, I made my way over to the red square. I spotted Faith and Zeke across from me, both looking absolutely gorgeous in the same outfits they’d worn for the season opener. God, that felt like a lifetime ago, not three months ago. They both waved to me, and I waved back, and the roar of the crowd died away as the three of us made eye contact and just… Drank it in. Here we were, back where we began, as our truest selves. 

Goddammit, even with my nerves, it felt amazing. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

I heard Marty and Derek finishing up their pre-fight monologues and sending the cue over to the big guy. 

And that was that. 

It was time. 

It was, in point of fact-

“-ROBOT FIGHTING TIME!”

The swell of noise from the cheering crowd washed over me like a gentle wave. I was ready. Whatever happened, I was ready. 

“IN THE RED SQUARE: this bot ALWAYS gets right to the point. It pierces right to the heart of the issue, and leaves nothing but holes in you and your argument! It’ll leave you punctured, and then get you with a GIGA! DRILL! BREAKER! IT’S… DAI GURREN!”

Everyone whooped and applauded. Including me. 

“AND IN THE BLUE SQUARE: this bot brings terror to sailors everywhere. It’ll take you on an odyssey of pain and destruction! It’ll eat your crew alive and make you watch… Wow, that one got dark, didn’t it? IT’S… POLYPHEMUS!!!!”

The whole building, the whole city, the whole of the Los Angeles metropolitan area could have been cheering for me in that moment, but I wouldn’t have noticed. All that mattered to me was the two people across from me, cheering louder and harder for me than I’d ever thought possible. 

God, I loved those two goobers.

We both wheeled our robots into the battle box, got into our positions. Faith and Zeke exchanged a kiss, and then they both blew me one. 

“Making me blush, you two are,” I said. 

“Good,” Faith smirked. 

“That’s the idea, Calloway,” Zeke said, smile equally shit-eating. 

“Yeah, well,” I said, then blew them each a kiss, “Take that, you nerds.”

“Happily,” Faith said. 

“Very happily,” Zeke said. 

“Well then happy to be of service,” I said. 

“Here we go, here we go, here we go,” Marty said from the commentator’s booth. 

“One last time, let’s do this,” Derek said. 

“ROBOTS! ACTIVATE!”

I slammed my button. 

Faith did the same.

And away we went. 

I shot straight forward. 

DG did the same. 

I’d made some modifications going into this fight, chief among them being that I was armed to the teeth: my overhead ax was repositioned to swing down from my stern, while my katana was positioned at my bow. My side-knife was safely secured in secret, though given that DG almost certainly had theirs, it evened out. I’d opted to leave the flamethrowers at home as well- no point in all this if I weighed too much to move.

“Hope you’re ready for a trip to pound-town,” Faith grinned.

“Is that a threat?” I grinned back.

“Oh, it’s a promise, beautiful,” Faith winked. 

“Dreams really do come true,” Zeke chuckled.

Guren flanked me from one side, Dai Gurren from the other, as I reached the middle of the arena. Moving slower thanks to my heavy arsenal, I still managed to rotate forty-five degrees as they closed in. My back was DG, and I flipped one switch to bring down the ax. With another switch, I activated a modification I’d made to my katana: a simple, rapid chopping motion that clipped one of G’s tires and sent it careening towards its larger counterpart. 

“Gonna put y’all on the chopping block!” I said. 

“Just as long as it’s away from your terrible puns,” Faith said. 

“Oh, that’s just cold,” I said. 

“What can I say, I’m an ice queen.”

“If by that you mean your feet are painfully cold, then yeah,” I said. 

“Heh, babe’s got you there, babe,” Zeke said.

DG moved out of the way just in time to avoid the blow from my ax, veering left and away from the spiraling Guren, only for me to activate my side-knife and plunge it directly into DG’S faceplate. 

Unfortunately, the rotating drill tore through the arm holding the knife and sliced it clean off. It fell out of DG’s faceplate and landed on the floor with a complete lack of aplomb, at the same time DG’s own side-knife launched from its right-hand pocket and grazed my port. Sparks flew, and I plunged forward and went on the retreat. 

“What’s the matter, blondie, we got you on the run?” Faith said from across the way. 

“I would never run from you, Faithy,” I said with a half-smile. It was the truth. I didn’t know how to run away from Faith Watanabe or Zeke Underhill. Only towards them. 

I came to a sudden halt and swung my ax down, this time crushing DG’s faceplate and snapping off three of its drill heads. 

“OH! LOOK AT THAT! WE’VE GOT SOME DISARMAMENT HAPPENING HERE!” Weston bellowed. 

I veered left, turning myself around just in time for my katana to catch on another one of the drill-heads while swinging upwards. That left three drills, and I pressed forward into the center of the faceplate and plunged in. But the rotating faceplate wasn’t having it, and sparks shot out en masse. 

“Just the tip, right?” Faith said. 

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Zeke groaned. 

“I could stand a little more than just the tip,” I said. 

“Oh no, not you too,” Zeke said. 

“Always been like this, babe,” I said. 

That, however, was when we all collectively realized where we were: the exact middle of the battle box. Right as the kill-saws activated. 

“Oh, fuck!” I screamed, hoping the on-air censors caught that one. 

Poly and DG both jumped into the air as our undercarriages were serrated by the saws. 

I landed a few inches away on my wheels. 

DG landed on its side, immobile. 

“Oh, what’s this!?” Derek Benes said. “Could DG already be out of commission?”

“Not a chance,” I said. I ran over and slammed the back of my bot into the top-side of DG, knocking it back onto its treads and doing a quick lap to give it time to start back up. “No way I’m settling for that as my victory!”

“Oh, now look at that sportsmanship from Kate Calloway!” Marty said. 

“The girl’s come a long way, hasn’t she?” Derek said.

“Damn right she has,” I said.

“Amen,” Faith said. 

“Hell yeah,” Zeke said. 

“Only forty-five seconds left on the clock!” Marty screamed. 

“Ready for one last punch-up, babe?” Faith said. 

“I am if you are, babe,” Zeke said. “How about you, babe?”

“I think so,” I said. 

I wheeled myself to the far left-end of the box, while DG situated itself on the opposite end. 

“Thirty seconds!” Derek shouted. 

“Here we go,” Zeke said. 

“All or nothing,” Faith said. 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” I smiled. 

I charged once more, aiming straight down the middle, screaming my lungs out all the way. 

My partners did me the courtesy of going equally loud. 

We met in the middle, our bots flying into the air in opposite directions from the force of impact, the sheer volume of the collision deafening. My katana came flying off, but as I landed, I swung my ax down one last time, letting the recoil break my fall. 

I landed on my wheels.

Dai Gurren did the same. 

My heart thundering, I pushed the controls forward, desperate for movement. And Polyphemus moved, slowly but surely, inch by inch, towards DG. 

DG, meanwhile, was totally immobile. 

“Gonna need to see some movement,” the referee said. 

Faith worked the controls, but there was nothing. DG was entirely stationary.

And that was that.

“10! 9!”

I watched in silence as the countdown finished, as my champion status was solidified. Tears welled up behind my eyes and surged out, a river at the height of flood season. I expected to feel overjoyed, expected to feel strong and mighty and ecstatic, but all I felt… 

All I felt watching my robot moving while DG sat immobile was… Alone. Like I made it to the top of the mountain but left everyone behind to get there.

“May we have this dance?” came a familiar voice, whispered into my ear. 

The flood of tears was stymied, and my back shot up straight as I turned around and saw Zeke and Faith behind me, extending both of their hands. And all the pain was gone, all the loneliness was gone. Of course I wasn’t alone. Of course I hadn’t left anyone behind to get to the top. They’d climbed the mountain with me, encouraging me to rise up each inch, but letting me get there myself. They’d been waiting for me at the precipice the entire time. And I was there now, with them, looking out over the whole world below. I was a champion. And not just because I’d won the fight…

… Well, okay, a little bit because I’d won the fight. 

But there were other reasons. Two other reasons. 

Two reasons that were worth far more to me than any trophy. 

I wiped away my tears and took their hands, and the three of us interlocked and waltzed together as the crowd roared on all sides and the trophy was wheeled up to us on a wagon. Ostensibly, it was for me. 

But honestly? All three of us had gotten here together. We’d all earned it. 

“How do you feel, champ?” Faith said. 

“Amazing,” I choked out. “I love you both. So damn much.”

“Love you too,” they both said. 

“I guess we’ve got one of these trophies for each of our apartments now,” I said. 

“Yeah, we do,” Zeke said. “We’ll have to figure out who gets to house it next year, though.”

My eyebrows shot up. “How do you-”

“How do you think he means, blondie?” Faith said. “We shouldn’t keep fighting like this. So how about next year, we’re all on the same team? Both of our robots took some serious beatings, I’m sure we can find a way to make something new out of the remains of both. I was hoping maybe we call ourselves Team Poly Gurren? What do you think?”

The song of my heart screamed with joy in every fiber of my being, and I saw the future unfold with these two at my sides. The three of us, together, becoming more than we were apart. Each new year was another mountain for us to summit together, because together, we could rise to any occasion. It was what I wanted. It was all I wanted. “I think we’ll be a force to be reckoned with. Next year’s tournament won’t know what hit them.”

“Three champions, all working together, does sound like a winning combination,” Zeke said, warmth and strength pouring out of him.

“To us,” Faith said. “To Poly Gurren.”

“To the future,” I said. 

“And to Katie,” Zeke said. “For bringing us all together.”

As our dance ended, I knew we had to face the rest of the world. But there was still an important question to answer before I could do any of that: which one did I kiss first?

It was a tough one to answer when I loved them both just as much, and I knew it was the same for them. 

Needless to say, I kissed them both before walking off stage.

***

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[icaninternetfangirl]

not being listened to does something so strange to the mind.

it got to the point where i think it’s is better to stop myself from saying anything because i know i wont be understood. it builds this weird mix of resentment, anger, shame, hurt and desperation. i wanted to be heard and accepted so bad that i literally started to scream. i think subconsciously i was trying to force my way into something i felt shut out of. Then i was shown that i was banging on a wall. I was (am????) in an environment where i can’t be right. So i shouted, and then i tried to whisper. But i wasn’t really whispering, my throat was hoarse and i am weary. I am looking for my voice.

i am lost in translation. i am trying very hard to not be lost.

[borntochasethewind]

I find myself in the woods again

panicked and lost

frantically searching, looking

for any kind of escape.

i call your name, getting more hysterical

with every unanswered shout.

I scream myself hoarse, tripping over the roots

beneath my increasingly clumsy feet.

I finally let myself succumb to my aching legs, heart and mind

and collapse into the dirt and leaves,

not caring to hold myself together any longer.

I feel the hot tears of desperate loneliness

slip their way down my face, falling into the earth beside me

even my mother can’t save me now.

The fear i should feel,

being completely isolated in this forest

never kicks in

only the all consuming despair fills my chest now.

i can feel it inching its way deeper into me,

seeping into my bones and sinking into my bloodstream.

i hold myself, as if that would stop me from ripping at the seams,

becoming more undone then i have before.

it’s almost animalistic,

the way i fall apart.

i yell it into the darkness, almost howling in pain

my body contorts,

the horrible sobs rip through me

my breath hitching in my chest as it consumes me.

Tears blur my vision,

and i hope quietly to myself

that maybe i’ll find my own way out,

my own path out of this valley.

~recovery isn’t linear, sometimes we need to collapse in order to get back up.

[casspurrjoybell-17]

Heart’s Choice - Chapter 17

*Warning Adult Content*

- Carlos -

I stand in a dark, featureless place, a place with no beginning and no end, a place with no way out and nowhere to go.

"Get out."

I spin and find myself face to face with Kyle. He still looks pissed.

His face is pale as porcelain, his eyes are black as the void and the veins beneath his skin look like they're filled with ink.

"Whoa." I hold up my hands and back away. "Kyle, it's me, Carlos. Mr. Martinez, remember?"

"I remember."

"Good. I want to help you, Kyle. I want to help. Understand?"

Slowly, he shakes his head back and forth.

"Get out."

"Kyle, just tell me who did this. Tell me who hurt you. If you tell me, then..."

"It's you."

"What?"

Kyle's face contorts with pain, and black tears leak from his eyes.

"This is all because of you."

My mind grapples for an explanation and seizes on the only one that makes sense.

"Because I got mad at you and made you go for burgers? Kyle, I'm so sorry for yelling at you. I'm sorry for what happened to you. But that wasn't my fault. Understand? Someone else did that and I need you to remember who. Can you..."

"It's you. It's you. IT'S YOU." Kyle screams, the sound grating like nails on a chalkboard or gravel in a blender.

"GET OUT."

Just as he'd shoved my physical body, he shoves my astral body so hard I fly off my feet and backwards into the dark.

~ ★ ~

The world spins.

My head hurts.

I blink up at a tiled ceiling, lost in shadow and then wince as someone shines a light directly in my eyes.

The light is withdrawn and as my vision clears I recognize Mrs. Peters' nurse leaning over me.

"Someone call an ambulance," she says. "He shouldn't be moved."

"No, no," I whisper hoarsely and try to raise my hand, then choke on a scream as pain bites down on my arm with a mouth full of needle teeth.

"Lie still," the nurse orders, resting a hand on my chest. "Looks like you've got a broken arm and a concussion. You need to go to the E.R."

"No, no. Can't..."

I try to shake my head but the nurse quickly grabs either side of it, holding it still.

"Don't move. You could have a spinal injury as well."

"No, I'm..."

Well, I'm not fine, obviously but I'm not as badly hurt as it might seem.

If only I had the energy to say as much, Kyle drained most of mine.

"What's your name?" the nurse asks.

"Carlos."

"Your full name."

"Carlos... Ángel..."

Suddenly too tired to remember the rest, I give in and shut my eyes.

~ ★ ~

"Fuck."

I flop back against the pillows of the hospital bed I'm still stuck in and stare up at the bright, fluorescent lights glaring down from overhead.

I'd slipped in and out of consciousness as the paramedics arrived, loaded me into an ambulance and took me on a very expensive and in my opinion completely unnecessary ride to the hospital.

I mean, yeah, my arm was broken but other than that I was fine.

Mostly fine.

I'd have to wear a neck brace for ten days but I didn't have a concussion.

If my eyes hadn't responded to light and if I'd been barely conscious for a day and a half and if I had trouble remembering basic facts, well, that was just the effect of taking a little trip to the other side, not brain damage.

It used to happen all the time when Aunt Toni used me as demon bait.

I'd get possessed, she'd trap the demon inside me, then exorcise it and send it back to whatever hell it came from.

Meanwhile, I'd be wandering around in a place like the one Kyle was stuck in now and when I came back...

Well, sometimes it took a while to readjust to my physical body.

Try explaining that to an E.R. doctor, though.

"What are you complaining about now?"

John looks up from the chair he's occupied for almost twenty-four hours.

"You need more pain meds?"

"No," I grumble. "I need more money."

"What for?"

I roll my head to the side as much as I can from the confines of my human neck cone and glare at him.

"You know how much a ride in an ambulance costs? Like, $1,200."

"You got insurance, don't you?"

I groan.

"I'm a young, healthy, single, self-employed guy. I got the cheapest insurance I could buy. It covers... I dunno. Basically nothing. Fuck."

"Hey, you're alive, that's what matters. We'll figure this out."

"Who's we?" I ask, frowning at him.

There's no 'we' with someone I met barely two weeks ago, at least not when it comes to figuring out shit like paying hospital bills.

John rubs the back of his neck.

"I just mean... in general, you know. Actually... there's something I need to talk to you about."

"Yeah?"

He clears his throat but before he can speak, someone knocks on the door and detective Latoya McKenzie enters, her long braids bound in a knot at the back of her head today.

"Turner, you got a minute?"

"For you? Always. What are you doing here so early?"

"Early? It's nine-thirty in the morning, Turner. And seeing as this is apparently your mobile office now, I figured I'd stop by. Got that file you asked for."

John glances at me.

"Oh, ah... Did you bring it with you?"

McKenzie arches her brows at him.

She holds a manila folder and clip board.

She holds out the folder and John rises and reaches for it with a strange hesitation, as if afraid it might be full of spiders or something.

He takes it, flips it open, stares at it and then his shoulders drop an inch as he releases whatever strange tension he was holding.

"Oh. The Peters case."

"Kyle?" I ask, sitting up with interest.

"No. Mrs. Peters' husband, Richard," John says distractedly, turning pages over in the file.

"Your little encounter with the stairs inspired me to pull the record of his death. Apparently, there was an investigation, prompted by the life insurance company. He'd taken out a sizable policy only a few weeks before."

"Oh. Good timing."

I'd told John of my suspicions regarding Mrs. Peters.

He'd been far more willing to believe them than he was to entertain my other conviction, which was that Kyle hadn't meant to hurt me.

I was almost certain Kyle meant to protect me but John remained highly skeptical.

I couldn't blame him, given my current condition.

"At least according to the coroner, Lucille's story checks out. Richard Peters suffered a massive heart attack, during which he fell down the stairs, which in turn caused a severe vertebral dislocation. His spinal cord separated from the back of his skull, resulting in instant death. He probably died exactly where you landed."

"Nice. Thanks for the imagery."

"The question is... what caused the heart attack?"

"How old was he?"

"Fifty-five and in good health," Detective McKenzie says, leaning against the door with her arms crossed over her generous chest. "He was a fire chief. Had to take a yearly fitness test and always passed with flying colors."

"Still. Sometimes top athletes drop dead," John says. "That doesn't mean anything."

"No and toxicology came back null. So his death was ruled to be the result of natural causes, leaving the insurance company on the hook and Lucille to cash in on the policy."

McKenzie blows on her long, sparkly purple nails.

"How much did she get?" I ask.

"Half a million, give or take."

I whistle.

"Shit. That's not bad."

"Nope. Not bad at all," John agrees, closing the file and handing it back to McKenzie.

"So, what?" I ask, propping myself up on the pillows. "Kyle's aunt won the life insurance lottery?"

"Maybe."

John scrubs a hand through his short, dark hair and sighs.

I catch a whiff of him as he lifts his arm.

It's nothing unpleasant, just the natural scent of his body, subtle and dark, smoke and musk.

Instantly turned on by it and surprised by the strength of my reaction, I cough and pull the hospital bed sheet over my lap.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, yeah. Just a tickle in my throat."

"I got something for you, too," McKenzie says, handing me the clipboard she carries.

"Front desk asked me to bring this to you. They said just sign the highlighted bits and you're good to go. Seems your bill's been paid in full."

"What?"

I sit up, flipping through a stack of forms that make the SAT look like child's play.

"By who?"

"Mrs. Lucille Peters, apparently."

"Fuck."

I look up and meet John's eyes, which do that weird kaleidoscopic thing they do, turning from brown-green to amber-gold with the changing angle of light.

"Maybe she felt responsible," McKenzie suggests. "Since you got injured in her house. Wanted to avoid a lawsuit."

"Maybe," I allow, reading through the list of charges with my heart in my throat.

The total comes out just short of $10,000.

"The fuck am I supposed to pay her back for this?"

"You don't owe someone for a gift," John says.

A true gift, no. But this?

This feels like a bargain I didn't agree upon and now my soul's on the table.

"Fuck."

McKenzie's radio crackles with voices speaking in code.

John's phone buzzes at the same time.

He answers it and even hearing just his side of the conversation, I know it's bad.

"Yeah. When?"

A pause.

"Copy. On my way."

Disconnecting, he rises and rubs a hand across his jaw, looking down at me as if caught in a snare of indecision, unsure what to say.

"What is it?" I ask, sitting up.

"John... tell me."

"There's been another... Someone found a body."

"And?"

"And it's weird. Upside down, throat slit. Drained of blood."

I shake my head.

"It's too early for the second Feast. The full moon isn't for two more days, right?"

"Right."

"So what is this? Practice?"

"I don't know. Look, check yourself out of here. Have Nguyen take you to my place. Lock yourself in and set the alarm. The code is 0405. Got it?"

"0405," I repeat.

"Good. Rest and take it easy. I'll let you know what I find."

He leaves with McKenzie at his side and as I watch him disappear through the door.

I almost call out to him, almost ask him to stay with me, instead.

But I don't.

I've no right to ask that of him.

We're stuck in this shitty situation together, we've got the hots for each other and yeah, we fucked.

That still doesn't mean there's a 'we' or that there ever will be.

In the meantime, I've got work of my own to do.

It's time to get a hold of Aunt Toni. 

[robexp03]

"Dark Horse"

Chapter 2

Absorption.

The grandfather clock began to warn of the approach of the 6 o'clock HOA witching hour marking that the neighborhoods official Trick or Treat period was about to begin, so I massaged myself towards a liquid release more quickly.  As the chime began to tally the hour, I stroked myself rhythmically, targeting the final stroke of six as my moment of orgasm.  1; 2; 3; 4 unh, I moaned; 5, I breathed, feeling the pressure of my flow begging to mount; 6, I hissed with the expectation of discharging my fluidic gratification.  That blissful moment did not arrive.  Instead, I was stunned by an agonizing blast of white light, and when it faded to black, so did my eyesight. 

Stunned with disbelief, I stood rooted to the spot, struggling to see any trace, any spark, any tiny glow of light in the room. There was none. I moaned softly, "Dear God, no, please," ending with a small sob.

It was only a few seconds that passed, but to my tortured mind, it could have been hours.  Regardless, almost instantly, I began to feel a strange sensation in my dead eyes. Quickly they and my entire head began to register a feeling of suction.  It swirled around my forehead, sounding like crinkling paper in my ears, pulling at my eyelids, and sucking the breath from my nostrils.  I became horribly aware that the walls of the mask, which had been large enough to leave me a comfortable space for my whole head, were closing in around me. My nose and ears became flattened to my head, and my lips were spread tight in a grimace of claustrophobic terror.  I reached both arms up and tried to wrench the thing off of my shoulders, only to discover that it was now so tight that it would not budge.

I grappled with that long rubbery neck, gripping it in various ways, jumping and grunting with the effort, the rubber squeaking desperately under the assault on my frantic fingers. Inside the head, the pressure of the walls against my skin was rising faster as I struggled, but my groping hands felt no outward change in size at all.  My mind spun in panic, seeking any way to escape a smothering death, when I was struck with an excruciating pain that shot from the base of my neck to the top of my skull.  I took a deep breath and stiffly screamed in agony. I screamed, long and loud and fearfully to the end of my lung capacity, and then gasped in a great breath and screamed again. I could hear the bones in my neck cracking. I felt the tendons and arteries stretching and snapping beyond the breaking point as my skull was sucked upward, elastically rising into the long neck of the mask.  I cried out to God. I cursed the devil. I verbally condemned existence and everyone in it.  And I kept on screaming with the pain.

The rubber wall of the mask slid wetly past my face and head.  I felt the fibers of the muscles of my shoulders and neck tear and I heard them rip to shreds as my cranium was pulled inexorably up that long hollow tube.  As they parted, I could feel that I no longer had control of the weight of my head. The only thing holding it upright on my body was the mask itself. My voice was becoming deep and hoarse from the strain of my continuous screaming, and the bubbling of liquid in my throat made it sound like I was drowning. Still my head was drawn upward.  Through my burning pain, I noted when my scalp came into contact with the top of the mask, but my suffering did not stop there.  My ears were ripped loose from the side of my head. With a searing pop they tore free and I lost my hearing as I had my eyesight. I felt them slithering, maggot like, through my hair bound for the top of the mask.  Then with a sudden burning crunch, my hearing blasted back into my brain.  The first thing I heard was the muffled shrieking of my own voice deep inside the head.  

The vacuum drew forward and centered on my mouth and nose.  With a strangling cough, the air and fluids were sucked from my lungs and my screaming forcibly stopped for lack of breath. The screaming stopped, but the pain increased.  With a crunching crack, my jaws fractured.  In the silence of my prison, I could hear every miniscule noise that the tissues and bones of my face made, as they were dragged down the muzzle of the mask. I felt my eyeballs surrender to the sucking pressure as they popped loose from their sockets and receded away from my skull unreeling my optic nerve behind them. With a series of bumps, they lodged in the wall of the mask. In another instant, my brain flared with actinic whiteness, and as the dazzling light faded, I could see again. I looked into the mirror and saw myself standing there as before, but the eyes that looked back at me were not my own blue ones. The red pupilless eyes of the mask blinked and concentrated on the image in the mirror.  They were now mine, as were the flexible ears that were flattened to the mask head, twitching with pain. 

My face ached, every tooth throbbing with pain, but I just closed my sparking red eyes and suffered on.  Just when I thought I was going to black out from lack of oxygen, the suction tapered off and I felt my nose contact the end of the muzzled mask.  I gasped for breath, sucking huge gulps of sweet air into my collapsing lungs. My lengthy broad tongue lolled out of my mouth and I panted for a long while, as the indescribable pain began to burn out along the endings of my nerves.  I lowered my arms to my knees and bent over trying not to fall from exhaustion, and stood silently for a long time.  Still panting from the effort, I cautiously opened my eyes and glanced into the mirror.  My chest was red with my blood. It had run out from under the edge of the mask and dripped down over my pectorals and abdomen, but the flow had stopped now and was clotting in the dry air.  I leaned forward to get a closer look in the mirror, and the muzzled head moved in a way that no mask would ever have been able to accommodate.  The head turned, the eyes blinked, the ears swiveled, and a huge dollop of saliva formed a drip on the lower lip, ready to drop and splash all over the floor.  The mouth closed, and sucked the spit back inside.  I mean, I closed my mouth, and sucked the cold spit inside. At that moment, I realized that the mask and I had become one, in an orgy of pain and fear.  Slowly, incredulously, I reached up with my hands and touched my muzzled face.  The flesh was soft and pulsing with life, even while the tissue inside was still burning and in shock from the sudden transformation.

I ran my hands up my face, fingertips reporting a hot smooth hairless soft black skin. The molded rubber hair of the mask’s mane was replaced with millions of soft strands of hair that ran down my neck to my shoulders. At the bottom of my long and stretched throat, the edge of the mask had melted into the skin of my chest.  I didn't have long to examine myself however, when another wave of agony gripped my genitals in pointed steely teeth. 

I nearly destroyed my kilt trying to get the buckle open to see what was happening now.  In psychological shock, I watched as my penis and scrotum began to flatten and change structure.  With a throbbing ache, my testicles disappeared from their long-time home, and I could feel them drawing up inside my lower abdominal area. My empty scrotum began to stretch and spread, and with a searing pain it tore open wide, vertically bisecting its full length from just below my penis to deep between my legs. I gritted my teeth and stifled a shout of pain. It hurt like hell, but felt like nothing compared to the pain I had suffered in my head.  My bowels rumbled and cramped, thrashing around fiercely inside my body, making me instantly nauseous.  All the changes proceeded much more rapidly, and soon I could see the final results.  Where my once proud symbols of masculinity had hung, I now was only half the man I once was. I still had a penis, although it was now an inhuman and dark caricature of its former self. It hung downward long and low, smooth black in color, with a flaring flattened mushroom shaped glans, a perfect model of an unsheathed stallion’s sex organ, although smaller than a full sized original. It draped along a startling new feature of my crotch-scape: a pair of wet and shiny burgundy lips like a vertical mouth, pulsing and teasing the length of my limp shaft, like a giantess about to perform a deadly fellatio. Unmistakable to anyone familiar with the anatomy of a horse, I recognized the external genitalia of an equine mare.  There was no sign of the testicles that would have given me a complete set of both organs

I reached to touch the lips with a finger, when with an almost orgasmic flash of pleasure, they spit a gummy brown fluid that stuck to my fingers.  In disgust, I tried the wipe the goo from my right hand with my left hand, and only succeeded in fouling them both.  In an instant, the goo began to heat and smoke against the skin it had touched, burning my flesh and raising blisters in front of my staring eyes.  I clenched my teeth, and blew on my fingers trying to cool the searing pain, but it just seemed to make it worse. Hopping from foot to foot, I shook my hands rapidly trying to whip the liquid off to no avail.  The thick stuff coated my fingers and flowed down to the fingertips, concentrating itself around the nails.  The blistered skin darkened and thickened until my fingers looked like black tanned leather. The fire attacked my nails, turning them black, thick, and chitinous.  The pain in my fingertips was almost as bad as my head had been and it left me crying and gasping for breath between sobs.

Through sight blurred by tears, I watched my hands change from five slender pale fingers to 3 very long and thin bony black digits.  The quick beneath each nail split horribly wide, and with a searing sharpness, each remaining finger painfully extruded a 3-inch ebony talon.  The acidic brown goo still dripped from the tips of each claw, drawing them to an impossibly razor-sharp point that shone like honed steel in the dim light.

But there was more to come.  With another orgasmic clench that thrummed through my senses with sweet rewards, a clear watery liquid erupted from my penis and splattered my calves, running coolly into my hoof boots.  The liquid began to bite my ankles with cold, and I grabbed the splints and ripped the Velcro straps open, unintentionally shredding the neoprene with my talons. I threw myself to the floor and rolled onto my butt, painfully crushing the stump of my artificial tail against my very real tailbone. Then I attacked the laces of my hoof boots. But they were gone, and I only succeeded in clawing my leg painfully, leaving three trails of foaming red blood. I couldn't see the laces, or feel them. Bending my long neck forward for a better view I could tell that the leather of my hoof boot and the skin of my leg were blending and merging, steaming with cold, making my breath fog the air. The cold was numbing, but the pain was still a cutting knife-edge that traveled down my foot to my toes. The feeling of ten individual toes vanished, to be replaced with the springy sensation of a single stable digit. With an almost physical jolt, the pain in my feet stopped, but my head and hands still thudded with phantom aches, even after those modifications were complete. 

To be continued

[sebastianorion]

Classic infighting and thoughts on peoples faces I can read so easily. As if I was the judge. Waiting for the time clock, training myself to open up in the worst of times. This pen is way better. Sitting next to people who forget I exist after they lose sight of me, don’t know if that’s a refreshing thought or not. Glad I can only read my writing. My new boss doesn’t recognize me. The ink dries as fast as the lines my eyes make. Remembering certain times and instances I used to cherish and now they leave me with a sour taste. Taking note of the detail on everyone's face. Just making sure I remember. Can’t wait to lose more of my mind, more and more and more until the new parts that I’ve made aren’t indiscernible between what I lost. What I might not know I already have. It’s November and there's little snow on the ground. The detail on peoples faces don’t matter if they forget mine just the same. The thoughts on peoples faces full of unknowing ignorance, I deject my phone more and more. Along with the details I can’t help but take note of. How long has it been ? Trying to become unrecognizable so the next time you see me you won’t know you did. You won't remember what you did because it was a different person you did that to. Everyone just talking to talk THEN THERE’S ME !

Driving through town trying to look into people's cars passing by. Seeing into their lives and experiences, the petty arguments and family responsibilities that come with a seemingly normal life. The sonder notion of it all and when it all falls. All of us are still left here, still existing, maintaining and thriving, just barely living but continuing still. Trampling over something with bare feet.

I look in the mirror and lose myself slowly, I look in the mirror and take inventory of the imperfections. I look in the mirror and know this isn’t the end. I look in the mirror and teleport to  places I look in the mirror. I look in the mirror and realize parts of me don’t belong. I look in the mirror and cry but no tears come out. I look in the mirror, brush my teeth and get ready to go to work. I’ve been wanting to cry but every time I feel like I will, no tears come out. It sounds like I'm choking and I'm only able to force maybe one or two little droplets out from the corners of my eyes. I know the bomb is building up, it’s coming soon, it is an inevitability at this point, been looking for someone to help but haven’t had much luck. Running through conversations in my head. Ones I know will never happen but I'm too scared they will so I have to prepare for them. I know it’s a diary but I use it too much even still. I will coral into a depressive episode after this. Next weekend you will see me out but it won’t be the same. It’ll be someone new, someone who looks just like me. But he has a mask. An exact replica of my face. I wonder how my brain would look on a canvas. Would anyone notice I am gone. Would they still miss me after a month? I still think of you DAVID. I still miss you. I want to flood my room with tears. I want to drown out all sound and wail in bed with a pillow keeping me barely audible. I want to throw a tantrum for hours on end. Tire myself out so I can sleep well for a night maybe. For my throat to ache and burn changing my screams into hoarse growls like a pained animal. I want to be reduced to nothing and slowly build myself back up.

[wtfjd95]

The Scarlet Temptation

A/N: I’m sorry if it gets quite rubbish towards the end but it has been over a year since I have even put any work into a fanfic, let alone a major AU.

Princess!Wanda Maximoff X Knight!Reader (Eventual)

Summary: I don’t really know. Just a Wanda Maximoff edit/rewrite of what was supposed to be an original work.

“Look, I don’t care what you think of me,” I said, reins to my horse in my hand. “I am trained to protect you. That’s what a personal guard is for.” 

I heard the woman atop my horse sigh and with a roll of my eyes, I turned to look at her. Wanda Maximoff, the heir to the Sokovian throne. The beautiful redhead sat atop Mac Lir, her pale skin contrasting against the emerald green of her dress.

“We need to get you a change of clothes soon.” I mumbled, casting my eyes back to the road ahead.

“Why would I need a change of clothes?” she inquired, a snobbish tone to her voice. “What I am wearing is perfectly fine.”

“If you wanna be recognised” I sighed. “And end up back at the castle, only this time in the dungeons, then sure keep wearing your dress. But you’re gonna need to change into some clean clothes soon.” Looking to the dented, slightly bloody armor that covered my body, I scratched at my head. “We both will”

As we made our way through the forest, my thoughts floated back to the circumstances that lead us here.

The sound of metal clashing against metal echoed and the smell of burning flesh embedded in my nostrils as I ran through the stone halls, one hand hovering over the hilt of my sword, the other holding a torch.

“Come on, where the hell did you go?” I whispered, the orange hue of my torch lighting my way. “Damnit, you couldn’t have gotten far, Wanda”

I kept running down the, thankfully, empty hall, checking rooms left and right as I continued my search. ‘Where could she have gone?’ I stopped in one of the empty rooms, taking a quick break in hopes of trying to remember the hiding spots of the young princess. I leant against a nearby table, closing my eyes briefly in thought, hoping to quickly clear my mind, only to open them soon after when I heard footsteps echoing down the hall, alongside quick panting breaths, getting louder the closer the person got. So in apprehension, I moved to hide beside the doorway, placing the torch in a nearby sconce, my hand gripped the hilt of my blade tightly, ready to attack if needed.

Taking a deep breath in as the door was gently pushed open, I made to lift my sword from its sheath, pausing when familiar red hair caught my eye. I allowed her to step in, closing the door in her haste, leaning against it to catch her breath.

“Your Highness” I spoke, spooking the young woman, my hand quickly shooting up to cover her mouth, muffling the oncoming scream. “Shh, it’s just me.” Gently grasping her arm, I pulled her against me, positioning her between myself and the wall as the sound of multiple heavy footsteps got louder, my hand still pressed against her mouth, our eyes locking as I attempted to tell her to keep quiet.

“Where did she go?” a hoarse voice said, my attention quickly being drawn to it, the heavy wooden door muffling it slightly.

“You lost her?!” a deep booming voice shouted, the sound echoing down the hall. “How could you lose her!?” 

“We’re sorry sir” Was the last thing I heard as the voices quietened down and the footsteps started up again, retreating the way they came.

“Mmm!” The young woman mumbled against my hand, eventually dragging her tongue against my hand, causing me to pull away and wipe my hand against my leg.

“Oh, what the hell?” I groaned, shaking my hand out as she chuckled in response. “Why’d you do that?”

“It was funny” She shrugged, stepping around me and sitting on a chair.

“We’re in the middle of an ambush and you wanna have fun?!” I questioned, gesturing my hands wildly, my temper rising slightly before I took a deep breath and took a second to collect my thoughts. “We can deal with that later. For now, I have to get you out of here and somewhere safe.” I offered her the hand that she had not licked before and waited for her to grab hold so I could help her escape.

I was so deep in my own thoughts that it wasn’t until my horse gently nudged me that I came back to reality. Smiling softly, I reached into a pouch on my side and pulled out a carrot, holding it out for my four legged friend to take.

“I’m ok buddy” I told the horse, who huffed in response. “I’m promise”

“What is it with you and this horse?” Wanda asked, tapping her foot to my side, my armor rattling slightly in response. “You have a weird connection with it.”

“Her name is Mac Lir and I raised her myself from a foal.” I said, looking up to the pale woman atop the horse. “I’ve had her since I was a child.” I pat the mare gently on her nose with a smile. “She’s been with me through thick and thin.”

“Huh” I heard Wanda say.

“What?” I wondered looking back to the path ahead.

“Nothing” She said and I hummed in reply with furrowed eyebrows.

We kept on the forest path for a while longer before I spotted a city on the horizon.

“Finally” I heard her complain as we approached the large gate leading to it.

I clicked my tongue and signaled for Mac to pause so I could approach the gate.

“I’ll be right back” I told Wanda. “Pull on this cloak.” I reached into a saddle bag & pulled out a black cloak. “I’m sure you don’t want to be recognised by any spies after all.”

I chuckled as I watched her quickly throw the cloak on before I could turn around however, a pair of strong arms wrapped around my upper body and lifted me up.

“Y/N!!” A boisterous laugh filled my ears as the person spun around in a circle, stray locks of blonde hair flew into my face as we spun. “My friend it has been so long!”

“Thor!!” I chortled, patting his arm. “Put me down you big dummy!” He spun me once more before setting me back on my feet. I spun in his hold before wrapping him up in a hug, my head barely passing his chest.

“Gods, it is so good to see you old friend.” I spoke, my voice suddenly muffled as he wrapped his arms around my head. “But sadly I am not here to see you, I am here on business.” I pulled away from my friend and motioned for Mac to approach, a quiet yelp sounding from the royal sat atop.

“I see” He nodded seriously before a huge smile overtook his features. “Well, let’s go see the king shall we?” We began the walk to the castle.

“You’re father’s still in charge?” I queried, our path leading us through a busy market. “I thought you were about to take over when I left?”

“No, I uh,” Thor admitted, his tone becoming unusually quiet. “He banished me for a short while and I went on a journey of self discovery.”

“Oh, so Loki….” I trailed off. “Loki is in charge?”

Thor shook his head and we stopped in the middle of the market, many a vendor trying to either sell us wares or greet Thor.

“No, uh, Loki & my father both passed” He spoke, head hung low. “My father first and then Loki a while later.”

“Thor, I’m sorry.” I apologised. “I did not know” I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“It’s ok Y/N.” He uttered. “It’s been a while, it still hurts to think about of course but it’s eased with time. However I am not the one in charge.”

“If you’re not in charge,” I pressed. “Who is?”

“Valkyrie?” I spoke seeing the woman sat upon the throne, speaking to one of, what I assumed to be, the royal advisers. “Valkyrie is king?”

“Hello Y/N” The woman, sorry King, in question turned towards me. Deep chocolate eyes locking with mine caused an involuntary flutter to rise in my stomach & a light blush to rise to my cheeks. “It’s wonderful to see you again darling.” She took my hand in her own & pressed a kiss to my slightly bruised knuckles.

“Y/N, who is this?” Wanda spoke up. The sound of her voice reminding me of why we were here in the first place.

“Oh right” I realised pulling my hand away from Valkyrie. “King Valkyrie of Asgard, may I introduce you to Princess Wanda of Sokovia.” I stepped to the side and allowed Wanda to step forward. “Princess Wanda of Sokovia, King Valkyrie of Asgard & my former bethrothed.” I felt Wanda’s shocked eyes on me immediately after I finished speaking.

[slowdiived]

i don’t know what it means to get better (kurt kunkle x fem reader)

this is part 18??? i think!??? i’m losing count already i’m gonna have to edit this LMFAO anyways, this one is so sad. we are nearing the end of this lil series and i think i have a steve harrington one in the works after i end this.

long nights of crying and snot lining your pillows, eyes puffy and red. nothing could have prepared you for your first guttural heartbreak, voice hoarse and squeaky from the countless screams. all you could think about was his hands pressed into your waist, fingertips sinking in and smiles spread collectively across your faces. his gentle demeanor, soft and shy as he kissed you so affably, warm lips pressed onto yours with such ease. it’s like you guys fit each other, the last pieces in the overall puzzle.

you made yourself sick with each thought of him. you thought about him naked, you thought about him grasping onto you in bed, you thought about how nervous he first was around you, how you were his first.

the first time love and first time heartbreak.

you tried to keep yourself at bay with not remembering the dour breakup, doing everything in your power to keep offline and keep away from his things that you stuffed into the hallway closet. it didn’t work much as you remember the sobs that poured through him, his confusion at how he messed up so bad.

“kurt,” you touched his shoulder and he curled himself into a ball in the corner of his bed. “this is for our own good. my own good. if you care about me you will let me leave.”

he grabbed onto your hand, tear soaked and trembling.

“i didn’t mean to mess up so bad,” his voice was muffled by his jean clad knees. “i just w-wanted her to l-like me, to think i-i’m cool and n-maybe boost my numbers s-so more people like me.”

“that’s the problem kurt,” at this point you were crying out dry tears. “i can’t do this numbers game, i can’t be with someone who is so obsessed with numbers that they lose their morals. i thought we were in this together, i lost you along the way.”

you tried to stand up and he pulled at your wrist again.

“please don’t g-go please,” he nearly choked himself trying to get you to listen. “i’ll t-text her and tell her that i can’t be h-her friend, i’ll do anything just p-please stay baby please.”

you watched as he crawled up to his knees, wrapping himself around your middle. he pressed his chin into your stomach, looking up at you with his guilty wide eyes.

“no,” you shook your head. “you already embarrassed me in front of millions and if i take you back, i’ll just be embarrassing myself. i also know that you wouldn’t delete the video.”

“i’ll do it, i’ll delete the video just please,” his begging got faster and faster, his grip getting tighter. “please, i don’t remember how to l-live without you now, please. i’ll be better, i-i know h-how to be g-good! you taught me how to be good!”

you pried his arms from your waist and grabbed your bag from his gaming chair. you wiped your eyes and headed to the door, his pleas becoming nearly vacant to you. as you touch the door handle, you turn around to get one last look.

“please baby, i-i’ll delete it all. i’ll tell everyone it was a mis-mistake just please give me-“

“goodbye kurt.”

you had to block his number, lock your doors, and cut contact with anyone he personally knew. you needed to rid yourself of him to be able to get over it and come back into your job with a new mind. a new beginning to rip you away from kurt, remember what it’s like to be your own entity.

you posted one three minute long tik tok about the breakup, explaining the situation in as much detail as you could bring yourself to tell to strangers. kurt lost subscribers fast, his numbers tanking and the breakup becoming one of the biggest talked about topics on the platform. alexa tried to make her own videos but she got so much hate that she deleted them, getting scared of the amount of angry people. you tried to tell everyone to lay off the hate, it was an unfortunate situation but it happened and you wanted to be honest. you forgot the lawlessness of the internet so you told everyone you were taking a break.

you hoped kurt was taking everything okay, you were scared for him. you still love him, you didn’t know if there would’ve a day where you didn’t. you wanted to reach out to make sure that he didn’t do anything stupid to himself but you knew that wasn’t good for either of you.

you unblocked his number at wont point when thinking about reaching out but you saw all the messages that came flooding in from him.

kurt: i miss you. i don’t know what i am suppose to do without you.

kurt: i hate myself. i hate myself and i wish i could take it back.

kurt: remember when i took you to my favorite spot and we kissed for the first time? can we go back to how we were then? we use to be so happy. want to be happy aghain with you.

kurt: please baby girl i need you so bad.

you quickly blocked him again after reading just the first handful of texts. they made you burst into angry tears, crying yourself asleep alone in your cold, empty bed.