#the words the woman was saying were also like incomprehensible and im usually a good listener...

[fiddlepies]

I actually couldn't tell what was going on at all at the end of tmagp15 i thought the sound design was really unclear... I havent read the transcript so I still don't fully know. it was scary but I had no idea of the actual situation

[thekidultlife]

Mr. & Mrs. Yoon | Spy!Jeonghan

((btw, gif is my work also so yeah))

Part 1 | Part 2

Words: 1473

Genre: Angsty??? (Im not sure)

((Cold War AU, anybody? Hahaha I’m such a sucker for history))

Plaisir d’Amour…

The turntable was turned on early in the morning. Yes…I think that’s the title.

You scuffled through the incomprehensible labyrinth of bed sheets and pillows even though you were still in a blank daze. The mornings had begun to get colder and days were growing shorter as summer transitions to autumn in late August.

Where was I again?

Surveying the room, it finally dawned to you that you were already a married woman. Yet it was not out of love that you got married to a man who wasn’t even there when you wake up. Even so, I still cannot forget that night we first met.

“I’m Yoon Jeonghan, your soon-to-be husband,”

You hugged your knees closer to your body and touched the ring which was held by the necklace on your neck.

“I can do this…”

You can do this, Yoon...Y/N.

You eventually got the strength to remove yourself from the bed and exited the bedroom, robe in tow. The hallway greeted you with the great scent of an American breakfast—bacon, eggs, hot coffee. Despite being raised in China; you had already grown accustomed to the high cholesterol breakfast after several years in the US.

Yawning and rubbing your tired eyes as you lazily crept downstairs, you almost lost your balance among the art nouveau sculptures whilst entering the kitchen. The large circular cherry table which was their dining table was already set and the food was pretty much fresh from the stove.

The Yoon home was not grandiose but, definitely not mundane either. It was a simple traditional two-story American home with a spacious foyer and decorated with various artworks and crafts collected as a hobby by the head curator of the Smithsonian Museum, Yoon Jeonghan. Though it certainly is marvelous to some, but it may actually be an empty home for those living in it.

“Good morning, dear. You have drool on your cheek,” a familiar voice whispered from behind you and you immediately jumped in surprise.

You turned around and saw him all dressed for work—a brown vest with his shirt tucked neatly inside and matching brown pants. His coat was hanging loosely on his arms as he was holding today’s Washington Post. His hair which had gotten longer was still remarkably auburn but his locks fell softly on his forehead and together with all of that was his signature smirk which doesn’t seem to leave him. Yes, he is my husband, Yoon Jeonghan...unfortunately though.

Frowning, you replied to him curtly, “I’d rather not die here in the kitchen doorway, so stop frightening me, please.”

Yet no matter how many times you expressed your disdain towards him, he would simply laugh it off and he did just that as he sat on his place in front of the table.

“You seem to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed today,” he remarked, opening the newspaper which was on his hands.

“I did not, for your information. It was because I had to see your face so early in the morning,” you took a sip from the warm cup of coffee but then jerked after it burnt your tongue.

“Be careful, dear. I don’t want my precious wife getting hurt,” Jeonghan was glancing at you from the side of the newspaper with a smug smile, much to your chagrin. He just knew how to push your buttons—you weren’t even sure how he did—yet you knew he was simply doing it just to entertain his rather boring espionage life.  

You rolled your eyes at his sarcasm and he simply chuckled. Why did I even agree to this?  

“I’m quite the ‘show’, am I not? Teasing me, torturing me…every single day.” In frustration, you finally asked as you angrily feasted upon the bacon and soft-boiled eggs. “If this is your definition of fun, then there is something clearly wrong inside that damn head of yours.”

Jeonghan folded the newspaper neatly after he heard your remark and propped his head with his arm on the table as he grinned. You were totally unaware that he was enjoying how you despised him, loathed him to the bone. Nonetheless, Jeonghan was still convinced that you were capable of forgiving him in the end and that was not what he hoped for.

“Have you ever realized how adorable your reactions are?” His unrelenting gaze was glued to you and it seemed impossible to escape those stares which had the talent of making your heart beat fast. You couldn’t pinpoint if it was because you were intimidated by him or because of the way he was looking at you.

“See? You’re making an adorable expression again,” Jeonghan laughed once more and pinched your left cheek, making you sneer and push his hand away before you could do any harm.

“Adorable, my ass,” you snapped at him, waving your fork with a piece of bacon at the end which eventually landed into your mouth. “You’re definitely psycho.”

Jeonghan simply raised his eyebrows at you in amusement, not offended at all by your harsh remark. He picked up his newspaper once more and continued reading the business section. You thought he would simply let your snide taunt slide, but you were hugely mistaken.

“Oh and so you know, I’m a sociopath. Find a better insult, darling.”

Jeonghan smiled at you but returned to his reading before he could enjoy seeing you puffing up imaginary steam from your nose in fury.

The only reason why this person irritates you so much is due to the fact that everything he does is an act.

The marriage is a front, a disguise, a disgusting lie.

Several months ago, Jeonghan was activated as a courier for the Soviet agents in Washington while you relay the information he collects to the GRU. In order to camouflage the illegal things you both were doing, the GRU arranged that you and Jeonghan must be married—in that way, you can easily give them the already encoded documents. However, unlike the other Soviet spy rings present in the US, the two of you were not fans of the Communist Party and are doing all these for your own reasons.  

“Can you get me Shakespeare’s ‘Twelfth Night’ later?” You switched the topic and turned on your business mode. That was your coded exchange that meant Jeonghan must collect the documents from the agents and that Moscow needed to have new information regarding the activities here. The Korean War is still waging till now after all. The USSR surely wants to have the war plans of US and Britain.

“Sure, anything you want,” Jeonghan gave you one of his benevolent smiles again which was obviously fake. He then patted your head and messed your already chaotic bed hair before standing up.

“You’re going now? Will you have dinner here tonight?” You suddenly asked as you stood beside Jeonghan who was putting on his brown coat.

“Oh my, did I just hear my dear wife saying you’ll miss me?” he replied while grinning victoriously. You immediately pursed your lips and harshly tightened his necktie until he choked. You knew it was a bad move to fuel his already overblown ego and someday, you hoped to burst this bubble of his.

“Shut up, Jeonghan. I’m trying to be nice here,” shooting daggers at him with your eyes, his immovable smirk seemed to have grown wider instead.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be home by the usual time,” he walked towards the door yet as he was half-way out of the house, Jeonghan suddenly returned. “Seems like I forgot something.”

By the time he returned, you were already clearing the table of the empty dishes and was surprised to see him back with a concerned look on his face. You thought it must be some urgent matter but when it suddenly dawned to you, you rolled your eyes at him in irritation.

“Damn it, Jeonghan. If this is some joke again, I swear I’ll—”

What took you by surprise was when he suddenly seized your arm and pulled you closer for a kiss. It was simple and chaste yet it still rocked your being back and forth and when he finally let you go, you saw that there was a glint of playfulness in his almond eyes.

“I forgot my goodbye kiss,” Jeonghan murmured while grinning as your eyes were still wide with shock. “Wouldn’t that make us a convincing couple?”

And with that, you finally snapped.

“You…!” Your shoulders trembled in rage as you gave him a hateful glare. “Get your ass out of here already!”

“I will, I will! Well, see you tonight, dear!” he finally left the house while giving a winning snicker and you frowned.

And that ends the usual morning inside the Yoon residence.

Admin Hyeri

[illusionlockarchive]

Belief and Persuasion- Chapter 7

hey folks! i’ve been working on a little batim prequel fanfic for a while n its finally done! its a little long, so im dividing it in 8 chapters total!

if you want to read more, i’ll be tagging this under ‘bap fic’ on my blog!

summary:

Joey Drew gives an interview about how he managed to build his empire, and focuses on the two things needed most: belief and persuasion, the latter of which is trickier. As he talks about his philosophy, we can see examples of his influence at work.

This chapter: Susie learns the truth, and decides she and Alice have to do something about it.

"It is quite impressive how well you are versed in this... philosophy." The interviewer admitted. "I only have one more question now: is it possible to persuade someone to pass on that persuasion to others? When you normally wouldn't be able to reach them?"

Joey's grin had reached a more malicious state. "So it is, and it is quite a powerful thing. When it becomes a cycle, you can pass your influence from person to person with ease, and soon enough you'll see how I've gotten so far as I have."

---

Susie came in, peppy as usual, ready for another week of stress, meeting with Alice and voice acting.

Or so she thought.

As she walked into the recording studio, she was immediately greeted by an unfamiliar sight. Sammy was talking to a woman, a woman she had seen making the rounds of the studio before, by the name of Allison Pendle. Joey had said before she was 'just visiting, looking for a job'. Now, however, seeing her talking so giddy to Sammy, something felt off.

"Oh, hello? I'm here, ready to start!" Susie gave a nervous laugh, catching their attention.

"Oh, oh, Susie, I'm sorry, I thought- I thought Joey had told you." Sammy stumbled over his words, avoiding eye contact with her. The woman, by his side, fell silent, as if she knew nothing she could say would help the situation.

"W-what? What... was he supposed to tell me, Sammy, what's going on? Why is she here again?" Susie took a step back, now growing more uneasy.

"Susie, I'm sorry. Allison Pendle will now be taking over the role of Alice Angel, for an ... undetermined amount of time." Sammy kept avoiding eye contact with either her or Allison, looking down at the floor.

Allison kept silent too, only giving her a sad, sympathetic look. She didn't want to be a nuisance, and it already seemed like there was trouble about.

"You're firing me?" Susie tried to hold back salty tears now forming in her eyes,

"It's- Joey can explain it better to you, maybe you can talk to him, something about you cooperating, I don't know-" Sammy fumbled with his hands nervously, clearly he wasn't ready for that conversation.

"No, I get it. Good day to you, Sammy and Allison." Susie gave each of them a cold stare and walked out, shutting the door behind her loudly.

She stomped through the studio, calling out: "Joey Drew? Has anybody seen Joey Drew? The name of the studio? Come on people!"

The other employees stared at her in awe, it was a rare sight to see the charming friendly Susie so angry and determined. Eventually, one said: "He's at his office at this time!"

Susie nodded and made her way throughout the studio to his office. Once she got there, sure enough, she found him in the act of sketching incomprehensible notes and plans.

"Oh, Susie! Didn't you get my letter in the mail?" Joey looked at her, still smiling calmly.

"You- you told me I was going to be a star! Why am I getting replaced all of a sudden?" Susie demanded.

"Now, now, I imagined Sammy didn't explain to you what's going down. Heh, figures that man is only good enough for writing songs and snatching time from my toons. Anyway, I'll be frank with you, I need you to hurry up and wake up to reality- here's my deal, either you get Alice to get back into that puddle now and you become one with her, or Allison's taking over." He explained calmly.

"You've got some nerve making all of this as if it were a game for pawns. I suppose Alice doesn't know about any of this?" Susie stared him down, returning his warm smile with her cold glare.

"She doesn't, and she won't need to, if you just do as I say. I mean, you'll be Alice Angel if this goes off without a hitch, isn't that what you always wanted? To be a shining angel?" Joey moved his hands in a mystifying manner.

"You can keep your promises of grace to yourself. You should know I care more about Alice than to do her over like that." Susie felt the tears come back on as her mouth wavered.

She exited out of the room, thoughts swirling in her head. What could she do? Surely Joey just wouldn't let Alice be herself with Allison around either. She felt desperately trapped, how oh how could she fix this?

She made her way to Alice's private room, although she wasn't there. She sat on the bed, running her hands through her hair in frustration. Then she noticed a tape recorder near the bed, with a note stuck to it "Susie, is this yours? Looks like you left it here a week ago or so."

Without thinking, she took it, and started venting all her feelings. When she was done, she put it down on the bed, burying her head in her arms, crying softly. There had to be a way to fix it, there just had to...

The door swung open, and Alice gasped as she found her like that. "Susie!" She exclaimed.

"Alice!" Susie got up with a start, barely thinking as she put her arms around the angel.

"Susie, what's going on- I talked to Sammy and I saw Allison was here again, I couldn't find you, I'm scared Susie, Sammy said Joey has something planned for us and I'm not sure if I trust him anymore-" Alice went off, shaking as she sped over her words mindlessly, she was obviously shaken up.

Susie hugged her tight. "I know. I know. They're going to replace me if I don't convince you to come back into the puddles and come out like Joey wants you to."

"Wh- but! But that's just- cruel! They can't force us to do that- we're- you're- you're the best voice actress for me, Susie, you gave me life, you're the one who started Alice Angel! I don't want this!" Alice protested, pulling away and looking Susie in the eyes.

"I know, I know but..." Susie stopped, desperation now forcing her to think of a solution. Then she realized. What Joey wanted as a final result was a perfect Alice Angel out of her and Alice, right? "I have an idea. Joey wants you and me to become one, but he thinks we can't be perfect. We'll show him who's wrong. Let's become one now, Alice and we'll show him he doesn't need Allison or a different version of you to have the perfect angel!"

"... Susie, what are you saying?" Alice took a step backwards, averting her gaze from her beloved voice actress.

"It's- please, Alice it's the only way. I've thought about it, we have to do it. If we don't, Joey will get rid of us, or at least, just me, but then, we won't- Don't you want to be with me anymore? Do you like Allison better too?" Susie grabbed her hands desperately.

Alice looked back at Susie, sighing. "No, I don't. I want you to be my voice actress, no one could replace you. I'm just-"

"Then please!" Susie squeezed Alice's gloved hands gently, tears in her eyes.

"Susie, you don't know what this will do to us. What if we aren't ready? What if we lose ourselves, what if- what if I'm really not perfect enough?" Alice looked deep into her eyes, her expression also somewhat sad and sympathetic.

"You are perfect you are- we are perfect. I know we are. Please Alice; please Alice, please, please, please..." Susie couldn't stop herself as the tears came falling down and she lowered her head, crying into Alice's hands, her tears mixing with the solid ink that formed the Angel, creating ripples on her gloves.

"If we are so perfect, then why is Joey getting rid of you? Why did he talk about remaking me?" The thought crossed Alice's mind, but she dared not say it out loud, fearing she'd only make the situation even worse.

"Susie..." Instead, she opted to do something else. "I've been wanting to tell you, how important you are to me-"

"Then become one with me." Susie was quick to interrupt her.

"Susie. There's no going back from this. If this will make you truly happy, we'll do it. If you really believe we can be perfect together, we will. Do you understand? We won't be able to go back." Alice looked at her firmly, holding her hands sternly now.

"I do, please, I want it more than anything, there's nothing else we can do." Susie nodded, though she seemed like she was not listening; only fixated in her goal.

"Very well." Alice sighed. "Come with me. I faintly remember something that Bendy tried to tell me about how it should happen."

She took Susie by the hand, and guided her through the studio. All the while, the two were silent, not daring to speak to each other, but both already set in the same goal. They arrived to the room Susie had been expecting, the ink machine, pumping ink into the pipes ever so rhythmically.

"Ok, don't mind the strange procedures, but I'm gonna need you to get directly in front of... here." Alice guided Susie to the front of the machine, where a big pipe looking structure attached to many cogwheels stood.

Alice walked to the side of the ink machine and reached up to turn a small cogwheel etched into the side of the machine, and sure enough, the front of the machine started dripping ink. Not much, but enough to already cover Susie's feet.

"Hey!" Susie couldn't help but exclaim with surprise.

"See, you need to understand, for this to work, you have to be covered in ink. Bendy was very vague, but he said Joey was also somewhat vague too, you need to- give up what is human about you, embrace the idea of becoming ink." Alice tried to explain.

Susie took a deep breath and nodded. "I understand." She crouched down and let herself bathe in the liquid, trying to control her reflexes and holding her breath, although every muscle in her body felt the need to get away, she kept telling herself how much she needed to do it.

Eventually, she was successfully covered in it, and stood up, although she couldn't see. She went to wipe the ink off her face, but Alice stopped her:

"No, don't!" She raised her voice, making Susie stop and flinch a bit. "Remember what I said. See, this is why this was a bad idea..."

Those words only made Susie more nervous however, as she tried to talk in protest to Alice, but she only choked in the ink, coughing. Alice ran to her, panicking.

"No, no, see? This is what I was afraid of, you're not ready, I'm n-" Alice gently held Susie in her arms but was cut off as Susie inexplicably pulled her close, enveloping her in her inky form, almost as if she wanted to absorb her.

"Susie, wait-" Alice struggled as she was being slowly forced into all the ink.

"You said we could, please, Alice, remember, there's no other way!" Strangely enough, the more Alice was forced into the ink, the more she could hear Susie clear as day- had she accepted becoming ink so quickly? Or was she that desperate?

Alice closed her eyes, against all better judgment, she dove in. And for a moment all stood still. Two minds converging, diverging, memories blurring and becoming one, now Alice felt all the sadness and fear Susie could feel, and Susie felt all the insecurity and doubt Alice was going through, but most of all they felt one emotion in common, and it was-

Alice, at the last moment, broke out in dissonance. No, if you truly loved something, she believed, you had to fight for what's right, then the person you love would understand that you only wanted the best for them!

But it wasn't enough, she was still pulled back, and as the ink cleared, sure enough there stood Alice Angel, but in a strangely more humanoid form, and with a significant deformation, nearly mirroring perfectly the side where Alice had previously tried to back out of.

[linssikeittomies]

Apocalypse. In 50 Years. Chapter 1: Virgin Allison

I’m lucky. Always have been. Me, my parents, their parents, and their parents as far back as we can remember have always been lucky: none of them have been seriously ill, gotten into a serious accident, or suffered major financial setbacks. We don’t have any hereditary diseases. No one has died before their 80th birthday. There hasn’t been a single divorce.

I had a good upbringing, a stable family situation and a healthy diet. My parents bought me an apartment, I got in to college on my first try, I have hobbies I love and time for them, summer is just around the corner and we’re planning a vacation to Hawaii, everything is great and I should have nothing to worry about.

But every second of the day I feel this anxious tension in my chest.

I always feel like I’m doing something wrong, or I’m supposed to be doing something else. Something is not correct, and I don’t know how to correct it. Something’s expected of me, but I don’t know what. I’ve tried going to church and mosque more, I’ve tried doing more sports, I’ve tried volunteer work, arts, science, philosophy, psychology, travelling, soul searching, nothing works. That nagging feeling just won’t go away! Sometimes it’s right there on the surface, sometimes it sinks to the background, but it’s there every second of the day and my sanity can’t take another month of this feeling! I might be the first person in my family line to have a mental breakdown.

--

There’s some kind of sound… What is that, I don’t like it, I don’t like beeping when it’s so warm. Just let me find that last bunny. It got scared of the sound. Aww, I found it, right on my desk, the alarm…

Oh, the sound was my alarm clock. Damn brilliant, time to wake up already. Whose bright idea was it to force people up before they were ready? The professors can’t like being woken at the ass crack of dawn either. Just stop having morning lectures, people! Nobody wants them! I’m the nicest girl this country has ever seen and I’m getting an impulse to murder a guy. I’ve been getting up at 5:45 the whole week, maybe I should’ve gone the other route and just not slept at all. Would’ve made it easier to drag myself out of my soft, warm, loving bed… I’ve been trying to clean up my language, but I just have to curse some right now. Gives me enough anger to push myself up. Makes me feel bad about myself, too.

The classic white and blue sailor fuku has seen a lot of use this past month, but since it still feels marginally less wrong than all my other clothes, it’ll see a little more. I brush my hair while I wait for the frying pan to heat up enough fry my omelet, then pick at it and end up only eating half. Ughhh, why did I stay up reading that fanfic last night, again? I’ve read it like ten times already, I already know damn well what’s gonna happen! I get so queasy when I’m tired… I should probably pack the rest of this omelet up and take it to school ‘cause I’ll just get hungry an hour later.

I manage to cover the bags under my eyes with make-up, and since for once I was smart and packed my bag ready last night, I just grab it and get out the door. I’ve barely closed it when my next door neighbor Ricky comes out his. He’s really nice and kinda cute, but his obvious crush on me makes our relationship a little awkward. Not that I don’t reciprocate – he’s easy on the eyes, super cute with all those freckles and dimples and supposedly carefree hair combined with a caring and shy personality. So yeah, I once considered dating him, but the overwhelming sense of WRONG! WRONG! had unfortunately made that impossible. It always flares up particularly bad when something romance-related comes to my mind, maybe I’m just extremely aromantic without realizing it? It seems being friends with him is a-ok, however. And it’s got its perks.

“Oh, morning, Ally. Did you like the cookies I gave you yesterday?” he asks, as if there was ever any doubt. “I think the cinnamon made them a little too Christmassy.”

“Not at all, they were great! I don’t get how you make them soft in the center, whenever I try they just dry up.”

“Might be too much flour”, he theorizes as we go down the stairs. He moves his messenger bag from his free side to between the two us – I’ve noticed he does that a lot, I think it’s some kind of unconscious attempt at putting up a barrier because he feels so self-conscious around me. “Or maybe you keep the oven on for too long. I always turn it off when they’re close to ready.”

I almost ask for a baking lesson, but again the WRONG flares up so I give up on the idea.

“You might be on to something, I’ll try that next time.”

He’s bad with words, so he tries to find something to say but can’t. He scratches his arm absently and opens his mouth only to close it immediately. Our conversations are rarely smooth, and these kinds of pauses are the norm. I don’t mind them that much – no point in saying words solely for the sake of making noise, after all. But Ricky seems to find them incredibly uncomfortable and a sign of failure, so often I just say something completely meaningless to help him out, give him some ideas.

“How’s school been lately?”

Ricky’s a journalism major, and has a huge collection of magazines and newspapers at his place. I wonder why he didn’t go into confectionary since he’s so good at it already. Maybe he prefers to keep it a hobby? Not even with a gun to my head would I animate for a living, even though I spend like 90 percent of my free time staring at anime.

“Nothing special”, he mumbles. “A lot of work… It, uhh, might get a little worse now that my computer broke…”

“Aww crap, I feel for you!”

“Thanks… I… spilled milk on it last night”, he admits embarrassed. He likes drinking milk with cookies, he must’ve been eating those cinnamon cookies while working on something. “It’s probably busted even if I can get it dry.”

“I can lend you my tablet if it’s any help.”

“Thanks, but… all my files were on the hard drive.”

Oh jeez, he didn’t even save the most important ones to a cloud? This guy’s just hopeless. I don’t get how he’s managed to stay alive living on his own for two years. A cute face doesn’t help much with keeping track of bills and switching fuses.

We part ways on the street and I dig out my headphones. My bus route is noisy as hell, thanks to all the “edgy” teens going to high school. For some incomprehensible reason so many of them think it’s entirely necessary to loudly laugh at the worst non-jokes and gossip about this bitch and that bitch and those assholes, while also apparently hating each other judging by the amount insults they throw at each other, but still they hang out together so I guess they really are friends…? I just don’t get them. I was never like that in high school, I actually liked my friends.

Speaking of which, I get a new message from ~BFF~.

Good morning! Saida says, and sends a selfie. Seems she’s been clothes shopping, as I’ve never seen that tunic before. The hijab is old, but it’s draped pretty elaborately. It looks really good on her, red’s really her color, and the tunic’s greenish gray complements it surprisingly well.

Woah nice! Looks great on u (^o^)b

Thanks^^ Took ten tries to drape it good, I’m thinking wearing it like this for the premiere. Only a week from now! SO excited! >o<

Grrrrreat peeps gonna luv it \(^-<)

Keep both thumbs up for me^^

Saida’s an aspiring playwright and works on a lot of amateur productions. This will the first play she wrote completely on her own. I’ve been to a couple of their rehearsals, so I know the story is about a woman whose father is murdered and she vows to catch the perp – but in the process learns that her father was actually a terrible person and was killed in revenge. I didn’t want too many spoilers so I haven’t read the script.

Can we go togthr im so proud of u (/>3>)/

Of course! We’re going for a dinner afterwards so you can come with us too

Aww, I wanted u all to myself orz

If only you were a guy you couldXD Too bad :p

Deciding to tease her about this raises the wrong feeling back to the surface, but the opportunity is just too delicious.

Ill keep that in mind (^3^)b

Oh jeez, in hindsight that was a bad joke (/-_-\)

U get im gonna teez u about this all ur life k:DDDD

In hindsight that was a REALLY bad joke -_- Have fun AT SCHOOL you little devil!>:D

Aww orz

She barely has classes this week, not that it means she actually has less work – just that she’s supposed to working on assignments at home. Unlike me, she’s really diligent and actually does her homework over a few days instead of the previous night.

--

The professor is late, as usual. Students don’t have keys for the classrooms, so we have to wait outside. It can get pretty cramped, especially at places like this: at the end of a narrow hallway, with the smelliest toilet in the building at the other end. Everyone tries their hardest to squeeze out of the way of the stench. At least in the summer it gets a little better – in the winter the pipes get frozen, and when the water doesn’t flow, the smell really starts melting off faces.

I fail at stifling a yawn, and a classmate gives me a sympathetic look. It’s so hard to stay awake when I’m not on the move, any small break just reminds my brain of how tired I am, and then it wants to go back to sleep. It even forgets about the horrible stink floating in the hallway, if only for a moment. When my head drops and I snap back to attention, it suddenly fills my nose again. I’ve repeated the process about five times already.

In fact, I’m right in the process of drifting back to sleep again when I notice her. The pale, young woman dressed all in black, sporting abyssal black hair and glowing, ember-like eyes. She stares at me intently, like a hawk hunting a rabbit, and emanates a malicious aura. Everything about her is… dark, somehow. Like she’s hard to make out, and even the bright lamps seem dimmer around her. She looks human, but in an… elongated way. Her face, her body, and especially her fingers, look a little too long and a little too spindly. She looks like a daddy long legs. I can’t shake the mental image of her creeping up the wall and skittering away in to some slight crack. I’m not used to being nervous – I consider myself a particularly brave person, but this lady is giving me the creeps! I find myself crossing my arms at my chest to get at least some kind of barrier between us, despite her standing several meters away. It’s not far enough. If possible, I would rather put several countries between us – but as it stands, all I have is half a meter of hallway.

Her eyes stare at me unblinkingly as I squeeze closer to the door, their dim glimmer drowning out all other light. I can’t look away – her gaze holds me prisoner, and laughs at my fear.

Then a light weight settles on my shoulder, and her thin lips curve into a sharp, sadistic facsimile of a smile and she whispers

                                                  FOUND YOU

before turning around and walking out. All feelings of dread melt away with her gone, and I turn to look at whoever defended me.

It’s a hand. A translucent, poorly defined, watery hand that peters out of existence at the wrist. Seeing it floods me with tranquility. It twinkles like moonwake and grips my shoulder reassuringly before fading away.

…

Wow, I must be really tired! Guess those five hour nights finally caught up with me! As interesting as this awake-sleeping was, I’d rather not repeat it anytime soon. Or, like, ever. I have got to catch up on sleepy times this weekend.

--

By afternoon I’ve almost forgotten about the creepy lady and disembodied hand. It’s Friday, I’m too excited about finally having the time to finish my Ayato cosplay to think about sleep deprivation hallucination thingies. If I hurry, I should be able to finish the coat, maybe work on the pants some more. I need to get some more glue and find the right kind of buttons, the crafts store is still open so I’ll stop by there before going to my parents’ –

“Hey, Ally!”

A classmate drags me out of my thoughts.

“Ellie decided to throw an impromptu birthday party to herself tomorrow at her place, wanna come with us?” Lisa continues. Bryan is at her side, while Lotte and Yao come up on my right.

“She’s invited a lot of her other friends, too! Place is gonna be crawling with cute chicks!” Brian informs me as he pumps his fists. He then seems to remember he’s talking to a girl. “…Or guys, if that’s your thing”, he adds meekly.

Lisa firmly shakes her head.

“Her place can’t fit more than twenty people, and our class is gonna be at least thirteen of those people.”

“Yeah, the afterparty is what’s filled with hotties!” Lotte pipes in with stars in her eyes. Our class doesn’t actually share a lot of courses, but we try to stay in contact with each other. We have a whatsapp group, and sometimes we plan parties or get-togethers. I try to take part every now and then, but so often everyone just wants to go drinking I don’t see the point in going.

“Don’t worry, Ellie said her place is an alcohol-free zone for tonight because she doesn’t want a repeat of last year!” Lisa assures me. “It’s just gonna be music and games until we go clubbing.”

Ellie is pretty nice, and the only person I kind of consider to be a friend other than Saida. I might make friends easily, but keeping them is a genuine problem. If we hadn’t been neighbors all our lives, I don’t think I would still be friends with even Saida, either. So I’d like to at least try and hold on to Ellie while we’re still in the same school.

“Alright, I’ll be there!”

“WOOOO!!!” Lotte screams and everyone else flinches.

“Jesus Christ Lotte, control yourself!” Yao snaps at her, but of course she doesn’t give a damn. Instead, she starts dancing right there in the hallway and singing some pop song off-key. I know for a fact she’s not drunk because she acts like that even in class, but it’s still almost impossible to believe. Yao grumbles quietly and facepalms in shame before walking off without another word.

“See you tomorrow!” are Lisa’s parting words, and she smiles brightly as she waves bye. Bryan punches her lightly on the shoulder and she silently pumps her fist. They’re so happy that most of the class will be there. We used to this kind of stuff a lot more often in our first year, but then summer break came and everyone drifted apart.

“Wear something nice... but not too nice”, Lotte advises, winking conspicuously. “That’d be a bit too scary.”

“Scary how?” I ask puzzled. She just blows me a kiss before WOOTing again and pseudo-dancing out the door. In a way I almost envy her utter indifference towards social norms, being her must be so freeing. I can’t imagine the tiniest worry ever enters her head. For sure she never feels anything she does is wrong.

I popped in the crafts store on the way to my parents’ – on Friday’s we always have dinner together. This week it was dad’s turn to cook, so I helped him make the asam laksa, after hiding the curry- he always tries to put in too much, and mom’s so white she can barely salt her food.

“Bismillah”, dad and I say.

“God is great, by his hand we are all fed. Amen”, mom and I say.

My parents are great at working around their faiths. They both let the other do their own thing while holding onto their own. They never tried to teach me one faith was wrong. I came to think of God and Allah as different aspects of the same entity, in a way, and had no problems growing up bi-religious. As a child God felt closer, but after graduating middle school I became more drawn to Allah, maybe partly because of Saida. That’s when we really started being good friends, despite being neighbors since birth and always being in the same class. I even wore a hijab for a while, like her, though only for, like, ten months maybe? It wouldn’t have been even that long had my parents not been kind of worried, and had I not been a rebellious little shit. I wanted to make them squirm a bit. Imagine that, an Ally who wasn’t a total goody two shoes.

“We’ve been thinking about getting a dog”, dad tells me. “I think a Maltese would be best, they’re small and playful. A dog should be social and playful, right? Real companions. I have some breeders scouted already.”

He’s super excited about this dog. One might even say suspiciously excited…

“You’re suffering from empty nest syndrome”, I quip and chuckle.

“Nonsense, I’ve always wanted a dog.”

“You never mentioned dogs before Ally moved out, honey”, mom reminds playfully.

“What? Sure I did. The house was just too small.”

Mom rubs her chin mock-thoughtfully.

“The man doth protest too much, methinks.”

“He really doth.”

Dad gets flustered and still tries to claim he’s doing no such thing. Everyone and their grandma knows he has a soft spot for anything cute and fluffy but he still likes to pretend he doesn’t. Oh, that pink teddy bear on that shelf? It was a gift for my wife, she loves things like that. I heard your cat had kittens, can I bring my daughter over to see them? What’s a few mice, they’ll be gone by winter, getting mouse traps is too much hassle.

We had to call an exterminator for the mice. In a few months they had taken over most of the kitchen.

“Well now neither will get to name the puppy.”

Aww, and I was so looking forward to that yappy little shedding machine. I would have named it Fluffy of the Incessant Noise.

“I’m thinking O’Malley. That could then be shortened to either Max or Madsie.”

“He hasn’t been this excited since your youngest cousin was born”, mom says while nudging dad with her elbow. Dad claims the dog would be mostly for mom, so she won’t get lonely while dad’s at work. Mom says Of course, honey, and lets it slide. She has a part-time job, she’s only home alone for nine hours a few days a week.

--

I leave when it starts getting dark outside. I live close to my parents, so I decide to walk home. It’s getting a little chilly outside, but that only means the air is fresh and getting under the warm covers will feel that much better. It’s quiet – oddly quiet, it’s only quarter past eight. Why are all the lights already off? I could get a few people being asleep already, but the whole neighborhood? It’s not a blackout, the streetlights are on. Weird.

I’m starting to get a little nervous. Logically thinking there’s nothing worrying around, but my gut keeps telling me something is wrong more insistently than usually. And it’s a dangerous wrong, not the this-is-not-expected-of-you-wrong.

I pick up my pace a bit, and that’s when the streetlamps start going out, too. Each one I pass under fizzles out after me. The feeling of wrong is replaced by GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!!! In a blind panic I start running, but then the lamps start breaking before I even reach them! Hot glass shards rain over me as I’m left in total darkness in a large city that never sleeps!

No, that not entirely correct… There is still one light on. A single streetlamp a dozen meters away illuminates a small patch of sidewalk. Something is standing under it. Some kind of dark creature, with long talons and glinting fangs. I can hear it chuckling darkly… and it charges at me!

On instinct I put up my dukes, only realizing after the fact that it’s probably the one choice even worse than simply running – I’ve never hit anyone in my life and would just break each of my fingers before getting mauled to death… Shit! Okay, okay – but at least this way, I can die on my own terms – bring it on, bitch!

But just as quickly as it attacked, it is defeated. A blindingly bright spear of light shoots down from the sky, piercing the creature’s head clean in the center and nailing it to the asphalt. The resulting shockwave drops me on my ass on the ground. The spear stays standing, unbearably bright to look at but barely illuminating the surroundings at all. And the creature lies there motionless, not bleeding, but it’s so obviously dead I almost want to go up to it and investigate a little. My wrong radar goes off, though, so I give up the idea.

And, well, I wouldn’t have gotten that far anyway, since now a watery, half-there hand fades into view around the hilt of the spear – the same hand from school. This doesn’t feel like a dream, and in a dream I sure wouldn’t wonder if this was all a dream, but I just have to consider the possibility. Because if this is reality, I’ll have to readjust my beliefs on ghosts and I really, really don’t want them to be real!

A faint sound of flutes drifts in as the hand lifts up the spear and offers it to someone invisible. The corpse of the demonic beast quietly crumbles to dust, and all the lights flicker back on. The invisible someone starts forming a body – at first as poorly defined as the watery hand, like a half-remembered memory, but soon solidifying into a slender, paper white arm, alabaster robe, platinum blonde curls… and massive, pure white feathery wings flaring out from this picture perfect woman’s back. A softly glowing halo hums into life above her head as a single, clear ring of a church bell tolls.

If – if this isn’t an angel, nothing is. There I am, on my ass on the pavement before an emissary of God, and I can’t even manage to not gawk at her like some fucking moron!

The angel takes the spear in her hand, the watery hand waves to me and disappears, and still I can’t manage to even close my fucking mouth!

“I take it you are unharmed?” the angel asks me, her voice pure and melodic and all that poetic crap, and all I say is “Praise be to God”, like some generic and zero-thought-process and out-of-habit phrase like that is going to do any good in this situation. THINK OF SOMETHING TO SAY, DAMN YOU BRAIN!

“Get off your ass already!” a new voice huffs and startles me enough to actually make me jump despite not even standing. On my left, there is a lesbian – honestly, that’s what best describes her! She’s wearing red flannel, for fuck’s sake! A super short lesbian, she’s almost a head shorter than even me… What the hell – heck is she doing here? Can’t she see the angel standing right there? Why isn’t she boggled out of her mind at the incredible sight?! It feels so right to be in awe of her – wait… It feels… right? Why… why isn’t anything wrong now? I… This is so confusing. Where did the wrong go?

The angel graciously offers her hand to this idiotic creature, and all I can do is stutter out a simple thank you. Partly it’s my confusion at the inexplicable disappearance of wrong, and partly because she is - and I’m not shitting or embellishing this in the slightest - the most beautiful woman I could have imagined even in my wildest dreams. It’s not just how she looks, it’s also how she feels – and yes, she does look stunning, but she also emanates this aura of peace, reverence and contentment. That aura, combined with her perfectly symmetrical, slim face, large eyes in multiple hues of blue and nearly translucent, evenly toned skin puts Aphrodite, Venus and Istar all to shame.

“Thank you”, I say automatically. The angel smiles and I swear my heart skips like ten beats. Not only is she indescribably beautiful, she’s also insanely tall – I don’t even reach her armpit. As I stare up at her like some love-struck idiot, her face subtly changes – her eyes go from double-lid to monolid, her nose flattens a bit, and her cheekbones travel upwards. She’s turned from completely Caucasian to part East Asian – like me. She skin still stays just as pale, though, it even faintly glows a white light.

“We need to go, asshats!” the lesbian snaps. I reluctantly turn to look at her instead of the wonder in front of me. Her hair is blonde as well, but instead of freely flowing long waves, it’s a straight, long bob and pulled into a ponytail. Her eyes are an even turquoise, and that’s one of the only two things worth mentioning about her looks – she’s impossibly plain. She’s so plain you can’t call her ugly, not even standing next to the angel. The other thing worth mention is that bitch face of epic proportions. How she can be anything but awestruck around the angel is beyond me, but that look makes it pretty clear she despises nothing on this planet as much as she does me.

I thought the angel would be incapable of negative emotions, but even she gives a slight glare at the lesbian, like she’s being inappropriate.

“Yes, it would be best to move on before more demons arrive.”

That thing was really a demon? Not just some monster? Why was it after me? And why am I important to warrant an honest to God angel to save me? Not that I don’t appreciate it, it’s just weird that a nobody like me gets special treatment. My family’s not important, and I’m not even planning a religious career.

The angel and the lesbian start walking towards my place, and I don’t question how they know where I live. I just follow, legs weak, suddenly noticing how funny the short lesbian looks next to the giant angel. As I stifle the chuckle, I realize how rude I’m being, and to a celestial being at that!

“Ah! My name’s Ally binti Badraan! Nice to meet you!”

Both women turn to look at me, but keep walking.

“We knew that”, the angel replies smiling gently. “You may call me Rapture.”

We both look at the lesbian expectantly, and she blanks for a good five seconds. What, doesn’t she know her own name?

“…Meta. Got any smokes?”

Rapture looks like she wants to facepalm, but it wouldn’t fit her image.

“Uhh, sorry, no. I don’t smoke.”

“What are you even good for?” Meta huffs. Excuse me? What the hell kind of manners are those?! She was totally raised in a barn!

“I apologize for my subordinate”, Rapture grumbles. “It may be difficult to believe she is also an angel, but she is capable despite her personality.”

What?! The lesbian is also an angel? But – she’s nothing like Rapture! She seems like the furthest thing from angel excluding demons! Rapture, yeah, she could only be an angel, but you can’t tell me that Plain McBitchy belongs in the same genus!

“I’m here to fight demons, not to baby these bonebags”, Meta comments with a sneer. I decide not to bother with her, and address Rapture.

“So you’re powers, am I correct?”

Rapture smiles so bright I swear the whole street lights up. I hate being a broken record, but she is so beautiful! I might have to look away soon, wouldn’t want my eyes to overload.

“Oh, good to see you have read your Bible! It has been very long since I met a true believer!”

I don’t have the heart to tell her I haven’t even read the whole Bible… I skipped like 70 percent of the Old Testament. I read all the angel stuff on Wikipedia.

Come to think of it, does this prove Christianity to be the only true religion? What am I going to tell dad and Saida?

I’m just about to ask, when the angels – no, I just can’t consider the lesbian an actual angel – suddenly turn invisible. We’re right at the corner of my apartment building, and I hear someone walking towards us. I don’t want to panic, because for sure Rapture wouldn’t have left me to fend for myself if it was a demon, but can you blame me for imagining the worst when I was a second away from death mere minutes ago?

I couldn’t hide behind the dumpster fast enough, and Ricky caught me at a very embarrassing situation.

“Did you drop something?” he asks. I feel my face growing red as I try to nonchalantly brush my clothes clean and look like I didn’t just dive on the ground.

“Oh, yeah, my… thing. Girl thing.”

“I have two sisters, you can say tampon”, he laughs as he throws in his trash. I am so glad he doesn’t realize I made it sound like my tampon just fell out. “Nice evening, right? If it weren’t for the lights, you could see the stars clearly.”

Yeah, the sky is clear and there’s only a light breeze in the air. I look up at the sky, but can only see a few dots here and there. I’ve always wanted to go in the countryside somewhere at night so I could see the starry sky in all its glory. It’s just that driving in complete darkness in a strange place would be a little too scary, and I am not sleeping in a car.

I catch Ricky looking at me with a slight blush on his face, and wait for the wrong to set in to discourage any kind of romantic notion. But it doesn’t come. What happened to it? It always comes at moments like this!

“Um…” Ricky starts, wrings his hands, looks at the ground, looks at me, and starts again. “I – I cooked up something really good, if you’d, maybe, like to come in and, I don’t know, watch some anime?”

Where is that sense of wrong? I feel completely fine with saying yes to this ridiculously obvious date. It’s like it’s suddenly okay to like someone.

I – I kind of want to see what happens. It doesn’t have to lead to anything serious, I can just leave if wrong returns. Claim I didn’t realize this is a date.

I’m gonna do it!

“Yeah, okay! I got some mochi at my place, you liked the green tea ones, right?”

Ricky can’t believe I just said yes. His smile is so wide you could fit a camel in his mouth, despite him clearly trying to play it cool, like he’s a smooth player.

“Those were the kind you got me for Christmas? Where did you buy them?” Aww, he remembered! He hadn’t looked too happy with his first taste of mochi, but I guess they grew on him.

“The Chinese store on West street, they got many kinds.”

“Never thought I’d say I like green tea”, Ricky jokes and stops even trying to hide his joy.

“My favorite is durian, smells horrible but tastes heavenly.”

Does that count as an accidental pun? Rapture and Meta are still around, aren’t they? Just invisible. What’s up with that, anyway?

“Was that the purple one, or –“

Ricky is cut off by Meta suddenly appearing right at his side and making him jump away in surprise.

“Will you two just get ON WITH IT!” she yells exasperated. “I’m TIRED, I need my SMOKES, and I’m not getting EITHER while you two keep standing here FLIRTING WITH EACH OTHER!”

Ricky stares at her in terrified silence, and I can’t think of anything to say either. Meta huffs again – seems to be her thing.

“Do you at least have smokes?”

Ricky shakes his head timidly.

“Well of FUCKING COURSE you don’t! Fucking useless garbage! Thirsty little bitch who probably still wets the bed…”

“What the hell Meta?!” I yell. Yeah, I’m a nice person, but I’m not gonna just stand there while this bitch insults my friend! Angel or not, she needs to show some basic respect! “You can’t just blow up like that! Apologize!”

She stares at me in stunned silence, and I can just hear the Did this bitch honestly-! Uh-huh, you bet your ass I did! “Ricky’s a nice guy, he doesn’t deserve you giving him shit for not enabling your bad habits!”

Uh-oh, bad move. Meta goes from disbelief to fite me! in under a second.

“You realize he probably beats off to you every single night? Nice guys like him watch the most fucked up Asian bondage porn”, Meta shoots, and stomps inside.

“She’s wrong!” Ricky instantly squeaks. “I don’t even watch normal person! I swear! SHE’S LYING!”

…and he escapes. I doubt this date is happening anymore.

When I get inside, Meta is already sprawled out on the couch. Rapture becomes visible the second I close the door. She begins a long, furious rant that same second.

“Meta! Your work ethics are deplorable! We are under strict orders not to show ourselves to normal humans! You mouth off any human you meet and spend your time smoking and rotting your brain with TV and lazing around and drinking and nothing I say ever gets through to you! Get up! What a fine image you are giving your client!”

Rapture is a lot less angelic when she rants at someone she clearly considers beneath her. That feel-good aura is completely gone and her face contorts in inhuman ways. Her voice also is also slowly losing its melodic qualities and turning more and more shrill every ten seconds. And she talks for many ten seconds. Wow, can she flap her lips! She just keeps going and going and going about the innumerable flaws Meta has, while the object of this rant does nothing to hide her prissiness though she never defends herself, either. Guess she’s used to this, and knows the fastest way to get it over with is not to argue. I may not like her, and maybe I do agree with Rapture on many points, but it’s still overkill to put someone down for almost ten minutes.

“Please calm down, Rapture, I’m sure she got the message.”

Despite this being such a meek protest, she actually turns to face me – her eyes have turned black and her face is considerably more angular and sharp than earlier. She returns back to normal in seconds, like she forgot I was here and tries to pretend she didn’t just chew out her partner. Her huge wings knock off two glasses on my table, which thankfully don’t break, and after some deliberation she decides her visage is angelic enough without the wings. She sheds them by letting the feathers fall of in a dramatic cascade. Fortunately they fall through the floor and don’t just pile up for me to clean up.

“I assume you would like an explanation of the situation?” she asks, and I nod. Behind her back Meta rolls her eyes and drops back on the couch. “Your grandchild will be the second coming of the messiah.”

Messiah? As in, Jesus Christ? And his second coming? Woah, seems Christianity is the only religion. Am I gonna have to give up Allah?

“We will stay here to protect you, to ensure the bloodline keeps going.”

“Have you been protecting me my whole life? But – why would you never show yourselves?”

You’d think protecting me was a little easier if I knew what could happen to me. I could, you know, maybe try and prepare, instead of freezing and trying to fistfight a demon. Plus I probably would have gone to church a lot more often. God likes it when people go to church.

“Oh, no, we were assigned to this task today. Powers are much too conspicuous – before this, a guardian angel was more suited to the task. They are everywhere and have very little power, so they do not attract attention. But now that you have been discovered, Satan will do all in his power to break the bloodline. He will do anything to escape judgment.”

She smiles reassuringly, but suddenly her smile doesn’t captivate me like it just minutes before. Yeah, she’s still super beautiful, but hearing her nag so passionately didn’t exactly earn her points in my book.

“Not to worry, we can take anything the enemy throws at you.”

Right, yeah, I guess I should be worried about my own life, now that she mentioned it.

“So Christianity’s God is the only true god?” I blurt out. Rapture smiles brightly, while Meta vigorously shakes her head behind her back.

“So… is He or isn’t He?”

“Of course He is! What else would He be?” Rapture barks.

“He’s so far from the only one he’s not even a decimal”, Meta comments. Rapture shoots her a truly venomous look, and clearly plans to lecture her some more later.

This is all a bit much to take in… I’m the grandmother of Jesus, and angels can’t agree on whether God is the only god or not, and I’m gonna have to tell mom and dad all this craziness… Oh and my life is gonna be in danger basically 24/7 now.

“Okay guys, I need some alone time. Good night, sorry but I only have that one couch… Try and share it or something.”

Rapture lets out an indignant scoff, but I don’t look at her. I just close the bedroom door and fall on the bed. I should do my evening prayers, but what can I even say tonight? Should I pray to both my Gods, or just one? Should I address one to all the possible deities, since Meta said there’s a whole lot? Would just one shared prayer do or am I gonna have to sit here ‘til I faint from hunger?

Eventually I settle on praying to both God and Allah, as I do every evening. I simply pray for guidance. As predicted, Rapture nags at Meta, but at least she’s doing it quietly, and lets me fall asleep.

--

Crumbs… Crumbs everywhere… Poor sandwiches, can’t be easy going to school when you shed all over the floors and eat yourself for lunch, and Ham can’t even find its cow.

“BLESSED SILENCE!”

I hear a confused groan and it takes a few seconds to realize I’m the one who made it. It’s pitch black in my room.

“Sorry, it got a little too quiet”, Meta explains. I groan again. This is just great, she woke up in the fucking dead of night because it was too quiet? That’s the ideal for night!

At least I fall asleep again reasonably quick.