#this is a short sneak peek but literally everything I’ve written so far is full of spoilers lmao

[wizardofarles]

Sneak peek of lykmc chapter 15

[theres-someone-to-write-about-it]

Banshee friend helps Bella through dark days

Edward leaving crushed her, mind body and soul. When Sam pulled her out of the woods muttering and crying that he was gone. I almost went to kill him myself. I didn’t care where he was, he was an absolute asshole for doing this to her.

I couldn’t sleep those first few weeks because I couldn’t feel that she was alive.

The first three months were agony to watch her suffer. If I could have carried her through it, telling her it was going to be okay, I would have. Her night terrors and screams hurt my throat even though I know she couldn’t feel the pain.

Living next door to her was a constant battle between wanting to sneak into her room and knowing what I’d find wasn’t her. Wasn’t Bella. She was a shell, a hallowed frame with nothing inside.

I came over and brought food to Charlie under the pretense of a good neighbor. He would barley talk and I knew better than to ask.

When a flickering ember of her life finally came back, I wanted to run to her. To hug and hold her, so happy to know she was starting to be alright. But there was still so much more she needed to heal.

I stayed with her as often as I could. Even when she didn’t acknowledge I was there. I’d sit at the lunch table with her, no need for conversation. I saw she was only responding to direct questions. Not healed enough yet to be human.

Her waking up was a blessing and a curse. There was more pain, the dryness of her faint embers igniting was a hopeful sign but hard to breathe through.

I followed her and Angela to the movies. I should have just gone to her, tagged along to the trip like a normal person. But silent curiosity got the better of me. I imagined it was easier for her to believe I was just one of her normal human friends. Rather than someone who could clearly see how exactly she was hurting and what she was feeling.

Her hallucinations weren’t necessarily all in her head. They were more like psychic echos, pieces of the real Edward peaking through her shield while also being encased in them. I could see them to an extent and feel what they did to her. I never dreamed she’d use them as a lifeline and devote herself to extreme sports to witness them.

Stubborn and hurt as she was, I knew she would’ve found any reason to see her visions again. I suggested some fun times. My motorcycle wasn’t necessarily top notch in the speed department but a ride on the back got her high enough the first few times.

I taught her how to ride it next and that lasted a while before the feeling wore off again. Eventually, we were able to just sit and talk like normal people. I remember the first time I heard her laugh again so clearly, I’ll never forget it.

We were sitting on my living room floor messing with a map and haphazardly talking about the best roads to ride on the bike with. Her eyes were still only a light purple underneath as opposed to the bruise colored they were just weeks ago. I was doing most of the talking, like normal.

“This road is really good if you want to go fast, like 100 miles an hour fast. There are no cliffside or blind curves and surprisingly no cops,” I pointed to another winding highway, “This one will definitely get your thrills in, but you can’t go over 70 without the goal of jumping a cliff. Screaming weeeeee all the way down.”

I don’t know exactly what made her laugh, but my heart stopped when I heard it. It wasn’t her full laugh, but it was more than I’d heard in months. By the look on her face, it was more than she’d heard from herself too. If I didn’t have such good emotional control, bordering on ridiculous control, I would’ve cried right there in front of her.

A short pause was all I afforded myself, acting like it wasn’t such a huge thing. I made a comment about how I liked her laugh offhand. Then we, mostly me, went back to talking.

Talking about Edward or the Cullens made her feel like falling apart all over again. But I found subtle ways to try and heal her mind and heart.

When Laurent came down for the visit that almost killed her, I had to catch myself from running to help. Even from miles away, I could feel her fear and despair of being in that clearing.

There wouldn’t have been anything I could have done to save her. I’m still essentially a human with some fae gifts. No super strength or ability to take down a vampire. But damn I would have tried had the wolves not showed up.

It was some short time after that I let it slip about my not-so-human origins. Jacob Black wanted back in her life after he’d changed and it was important she knew exactly what type of world she lived in, surrounded by mythical creatures and at least one of them who loved her. Obviously I couldn’t tell her that part. I never even brought it up.

We were pacing the forest since it was hard for her to be still nowadays. As much as I tried to veer away from the path she walked that day with Edward, it was like her body had a mind of its own. I rambled on about the trees before coming upon this one particular one who was dying. I’d been searching for a segway the entire day.

I pressed my hand into the trunk that still looked alive, “This tree will be dead by next year.”

Not one to perk up at some of the weird things that come out of my mouth, Bella just nods and mutters an agreement. I thought for a moment that I’ll literally have to spell it out for her when I see a giant wolf track right next to me. Wonderful. “Wow, that’s a big paw print. What kind of wolves are they breeding up here?”

At that, her head snapped up finally. She came over to where I was and saw it instantly in the wet earth, “it’s probably a bear or something. Grizzlies can get pretty big.”  

“Or you have a particular loyal pack protecting you.” We were right beyond her yard after all. She attempted to stammer away and excuse before I cut in again, not being able to take it anymore. “I know werewolves are a thing and so are vampires.”

I hadn’t realized I turned away from her when I said it until I was facing the dying tree again. I was afraid of her reaction if she’d think I’d betrayed her after all this time. “What are you talking about?” I sighed, hanging my head with closed eyes.

“Those aren’t the only types of legends that exist in the real world. There are other creatures and types of people. It just so happens Forks is a good a place as any for them... us... to settle down.”

“Us?” I couldn’t even look. Her emotions were going haywire trying to figure it out, process the words I was saying in a way that made sense. Probably wondering if I was a vamp sent to kill her, that particular fear cut deep.

“I’m not dangerous or hurt people. I don’t turn into an animal or anything. I’m a banshee and we see and feel death. I can see and feel the emotions of people around me and feel when someone is going to die.”

The silence was gut wrenching but I knew she had to process and it would take time. “How?” I think she asked it on a whim, the first thing that popped in her head.

“My ancestors were fae. Like fairies only a lot weirder. Eventually they came to be with humans and through a few centuries of evolution, here I am. Seeing death everywhere I go.”

“Huh.” I couldn’t tell if that was an intrigued or scared response so I peeked over to see her last in thought. Better than running for the hills I guess. “I can’t have normal human friends to save my life.”

After a moment shocked me back, we both laughed and I can tell you, I’ve never felt more free. I couldn’t tell her everything like the spirits in town or the lost souls or some of the more unsavory things. But whenever a newly dead soul came to be moved on, I told her the process as I did it. Opening the veil and leading them to the other side.

She was interested what lied beyond the veil and I told her what I’ve seen of other people’s afterlives how there are infinite possibilities depending on what you believe. I could’ve sworn she was about to say that she didn’t believe in anything after death but bit her tongue. Eventually it became easier to tell what she was thinking based on her emotions, or when I was feeling lazy, almost everything was written in her face.

After Jake wormed his way into letting her in on the secret, he became more of a permanent fixture in her life. Not that he was a bad person, he was far more loyal and slightly more understanding than the boy who said he loved her previously. But still young and volatile and unpredictable.

Meeting Jake for the first time was not what I expected or intended for that matter. Bella got the ridiculous idea of cliff diving and had the stubbornness to go alone, picking the absolute worst timing.

I was in the reservation before I knew what was happening to me, drawn there by imminent death. My soul worked on autopilot, moving my body and I guess making sure I got there in one piece even though I still can’t remember a single road sign or turn in this place I’d never been.

I arrived just after they said the prognosis wasn’t good. Regardless of how much I knew it wasn’t the cause, I felt guilty for being there. Like Harry’s death would be my fault because I could feel it before it happened. I kept my camouflage well, that way no one disturbed me or even noticed I was there when I snuck into his room.

The light was already fading from his body as his soul was ready to leave. I must have been there only in spirit because even the medical staff didn’t shoo me out of the room when he coded the first time. They paid me no mind as I held his hand. I told him everything was going to be alright, that he was safe now.

He was stubborn and wouldn’t go until he had everyone around him. His whole family, most of his friends, and others gathered around to wish him goodbye. The second time I took his hand, his soul went with me. I told him he was going somewhere wonderful and led him towards the light. It took me a while after he was gone to remember where my body was. Outside in the parking lot.

It took me what felt like hours to control the sobs grasping from my throat and even longer to realize what I felt was drowning. Bella drowning after cliff diving right before a storm. I’ll owe Sam and Jake eons for saving her even though I knew they didn’t do it for me.

As I drove to her house, I felt for her energy to know she was alright. Knowing she was with Jake made me feel marginally better. At least his werewolves strength could protect her if needed. She already felt sick with worry and guilt so no need for me to give her anymore.

We pulled up at the house at the same time. The same moment we recognized the car. I knew the presence of a Cullen and immediately went to her side of the car, holding the door before Jake could think to drive away without dragging me along the gravel

He was tense and angry and, above all, concerned. “It’s Alice.” Was all I had to say before Bella was practically running to the door, leaving Jake and I to meet officially. We’d heard enough about each other. Me from Bella and him from what seemed a mixture of places.

“You were at the hospital with Harry.” I nodded. “You didn’t kill him did you?” I shook my head, the vibrating in his shoulder decreased ever so slightly, the tension in his knuckles never ebbing. He kept watching the door, weighing his options. If it was worth breaking the treaty. For her. I would’ve.

I put my hand on his arm, almost pulling back from the heat. I knew to expect it but somehow it still surprised me. “I can go inside and make sure she’s alright and find out what Alice wants or stay out here and tell you what she feels.”

He blinked a couple times, not exactly sure what I meant. “I’m a Banshee. Which is how I know you need to be assured she’s alright, ideally in a way that doesn’t involve you hulking out. So I can either stay here with you and tell you that she’s feeling incredibly relieved and happy to see Alice or go inside and get the full story then report back out here. Your choice.”

“I think I’ll go look for myself thanks.” Typical dude bro. I rolled my eyes and easily kept pace with him even when clearly he tried to beat me to the door.

Alices energy was always different than the others and I never could tell if she had a blind spot for me too with her visions or if I just seemed another insignificant human to her.

When I walked through the door, with Jake shortly behind, Alices eyes went cold and threatening. Bella got in between us and assured Alice we were safe. Introductions were made and things were civil for Alice and I. Alice and Jake were like hot oil and water, sputtering and tense.

Bella explained the wolves and my being a banshee really quickly, trying to get it over with so she could hear about why Alice was actually there. Upon hearing what I was, Alice looked at me a bit harder, trying to get a read on me and my future. She clicked her tongue in some sort of verdict and explained about seeing Bella jump and the stupidity.

Things happened pretty quickly after that. Alice got the call from Rosalie and how Edward knew something happened to Bella. I tried to stop Jake from answering the phone but the moron did it anyway. The tension in his posture and tone told me all I needed to know as I ripped the phone from his hand. He barley had time to say ‘funeral’ before I said his name.

“She’s okay. She’s alive. Bella is safe. Reasonably.” I couldn’t hear breathing or feel anything but I willed him to hear me. “Harry died. Bella is okay.” The line went dead.

I could fear Bella breaking all over again and I didn’t hold myself back from holding her as she almost fell to the ground.

At least he knew she wasn’t dead. Gods know what he would do if he thought so. I prayed with everything in and around me that he could know I was telling the truth.

I left her with Alice for the night, pulling Jake behind me practically by the scruff. They needed time alone. She explained Victoria and the wolves protecting her. I didn’t pay attention to if she bothered explaining me. I was afraid of what she’d say.

One thing we all did learn from Alice was that they were planning on coming back. All of them. I wish I’d burned their house down.

Edwards return felt more dramatic than it was. And all the drama was second hand to me. All I focused on was how to help Bella. How to help her see this wasn’t healthy. She was stubborn and independent and amazing. She deserved so much more.

I arrived at their house around ten minutes before he arrived. The Cullens were surprised, especially Alice. It was a first for her. I guess she couldn’t see me after all. Good to know.

I waited outside until I was invited in, civilized and cordial. They all gathered in the living room, in the middle of dusting off the home they’d emptied out of. “I want to talk about you all returning to Bella’s life.”

Carlisle nodded, speaking up for his family. “It is only Bella’s decision whether she accepts us back.”

“I’m aware. Personally, I have no problem with any of you. I’m not sure what you’ve ever heard about Banshees but I’m not here as a representative of my kind. I’m here as someone who... loves Bella very much. All I ask is an audience with Edward before he sees her. To give him some information and ask questions about his return.”

They let me sit on the couch for what felt like years before he walked in the door. He was ragged and haggard. I tried not to have some sick satisfaction with that. But it was a fraction of what Bella suffered.

“She’ll kill me when she finds out I’m here.” Edward nodded, confused and concerned that he can’t read my mind. “I’m a Banshee. We have some shielding ability to keep our thoughts private. Can we talk?”

He only nodded again. “Good. Do you think you could handle some pain right now? A glimpse into the last six months. What happened after you left?”

His voice was so strained and ragged, “I deserve it.”

“I don’t necessarily disagree but right now I don’t think it’s the best time...” I played everything over in my head of what I think would happen. His only relief would be Bella and her him. It was inevitable they’d be back together and she’ll want to forget any of this ever happened while he went on always feeling guilty.

“You left her to keep her safe. Believing a life without you would be best. You were wrong.”

[deadlybeautydbz]

“Behind Enemy Lines” - Sneak Peek!

The other week, I mentioned my long-fic I’m working on. Set in a future universe that is being destroyed by the androids, Goku has died from the heart virus and there are no dragon-balls to help. This will be a K/18 story like no other and with a twist that you wont see coming.

In this scene, Krillin finds himself coming face to face with 17 and 18 for the first time. Let me know what you think and if you’d like to see more! This scene is about 3000 words, and so far I’ve written about 30,000 (which is maybe 1/3 of the intended total length) so there’s plenty more where this came from!

Read below the cut. And please ignore any spelling/formatting errors, this is still very much a WIP

Another explosion, closer this time. More frantic screaming.

“No. Those people need my help. You go. Now!”

With that, Krillin turned around and ran. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel for Yamcha, he did, honestly, but right now, there were people who were in more serious need of his attention. He ran as fast as he could, feet pounding against the broken pavement, quickly covering the few blocks between himself and the Androids. His heartbeat quickened as he approached, not from exertion, but from fear. So far Krillin had managed to avoid a face to face confrontation with these monsters and he’d been hoping to keep it that was for as long as possible. There was literally nothing he could do to stop them. When it came to his power level verse theirs, he was as useless as any ordinary human. Hell, even Vegeta couldn’t put up a fight against the two of them, so what hope did he have?

Standing idly by wasn’t an option though. He knew he couldn’t take the Androids on, but that didn’t mean there weren’t people there he could help. Rounding the final corner, Krillin came to a screeching halt and felt his heart lurch up into his throat.

‘Okay,’ he surveyed the scene. There they were, right there, no more than 50 meters away. The Androids. Gohan and Vegeta had described them to him, but to see them here, 17 and 18, in the flesh – so to speak… it felt surreal. They looked like, well, like normal people. Krillin didn’t know what he had been expecting, something straight out of The Terminator maybe? Maybe that they would sound or move like the robots of bad 1950’s sci-fi? But here they were, standing right in front of him – they hadn’t noticed, or at least acknowledged his presence yet, and so Krillin was able to observe them for a tiny moment. Everything about them seemed, from this distance at least, unremarkable. If he hadn’t of known what to look out for, these two could have easily been mistaken for average survivors. A shiver ran down Krillin’s spine at the thought.

The girl, 18, stood on the sidewalk, arms crossed over her body, scuffing the tip of her boot into the ground. She looked bored. And 17, he was… oh no! He was holding a poor woman, who was too petrified to even call out for help, by the scruff of her shirt; a bright blue ball of energy sat in 17’s other hand. His crazy laughter echoed down the otherwise silent street.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as what happened next unfolded.

“Noooooooo…” Krillin cried, alerting the Androids to his presence. Both twins turned to look directly at him. Two pairs of icy blue eyes piercing right through to his soul. He tried to run, to save that woman, but Krillin could only move at a snails’ pace. Everything around him happened in an instant, and it was taking hours for his brain to even make the connections. The woman was dead before he had even taken a single step towards her. Her lifeless body slumped to a heap at 17’s feet.

Time sped back up.

“Shit.” Krillin was a sitting duck, standing right here in the middle of the road, two killer Androids staring him down. Beside him, was the burnt out husk of a car, and without much more of a thought beyond surviving the next five seconds, he tucked and barrel rolled behind it, out of the line of sight of his predators.

 “Where did he go?” A male voice, dripping with sarcasm asked, making Krillin’s face blush a shade of red so bright, he was probably creating a glow. What a fucking idiot he was. These weren’t toddlers he was dealing with, they understood the concept of object permanence. All Krillin had managed to do was make himself look like an incompetent moron in front of them. Great. Classic Krillin.

Krillin took a long, deep breath, trying desperately to calm his racing heart. “Okay,” he said to himself, “okay.” Beads of nervous sweat trickled down his neck as he willed his mind to come up with a plan. Something, anything would do at this point. The Androids were closing in on him, the sound of their footsteps grew louder with every inch of ground they covered.

 “Come out, come out where ever you are,” 17 taunted Krillin, as he slammed his fist down into the hood of the car the small human was cowering behind. Krillin yelped in surprised fear, the pathetic sound that came out of his mouth was not one that he was proud of. Yet another thing to add to the list of stupid things to do on the last day of your life. The twins cackled with laughter as he leapt up from his ‘hiding’ place and tumbled out onto the road where he narrowly avoided crashing right into the pair.

“Found you!” 17 exclaimed with delight and clapped his hands. Krillin was bemused by the display to say the least, a reaction that he hoped wasn’t too evident on his face. Maybe he was dealing with a toddler after all.

18 was done, she’d had enough of 17’s moronic behaviour for one day. It was time to get down to business. “Knock it off,” she elbowed her brother in the ribs, and shot him a nasty glare, not so subtly reminding him that they were supposed to be intimidating and scary.

Receiving his sister’s message loud and clear, 17 cleared his throat, straightened his posture and put on his best detached, murderous psychopath look of nonchalance. It worked, Krillin was about ready to soil himself.

 “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure,” 18 turned her focus away from her immature brother and towards the man she had been stalking for a large chunk of the afternoon. “18,” she introduced herself with a coy smile.

“K…Kr… Krillin”

“I know who you are!” 18 snapped, silencing Krillin’s pathetic attempt at verbal communication. She would never stop enjoying the thrill of luring men into her trap with her sweet and innocent act before revealing her true, cold self and demolishing them. With looks like hers, it wasn’t hard. She fully intended to murder every living being on this planet, and still, men fell in love with her every day.

Krillin strained his neck to look beyond the pair, trying to spot any survivors further down the road, despite his better judgement and years of martial arts training screaming at him that now was the time to focus. Never take your eyes off your opponent. That was combat 101 right there. What would Goku say if he ever found out about Krillin’s lack of discipline? What would Vegeta say? They weren’t too far from Capsule Corporation and Krillin could feel the Ki signature of the Sayian superpower closing in on them; he must have sensed the sudden influx of Krillin’s power. He’d be here any minute.

‘Ok, great!’ Krillin thought, pepping up. All he needed to do was not die for a few more minutes, and then Vegeta would be here and he would be able to sneak away to find somewhere to hide – and cry, there would most certainly be crying. For a brief second, a relieved smile wormed its way onto Krillin’s face. It vanished as quickly as it appeared though, when the tall blonde standing before him cleared her throat and locked her dangerous eyes onto him, commanding his full attention.

 Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Ignoring them? Ignoring her? No man had ever dared look past her, and she wasn’t about to let them start now.

“Hey,” 18 bent over at her hips, bringing herself to eye level with Krillin. She was well aware of the fact that the scoop neck of her teeshirt was hanging in such a way that it allowed a perfect, unimpeded view of her perky, and very ample breasts - which were barely contained as they strained against a silky red bra. “I’m talking to you. It’s rude not to look at someone when they’re talking you know?”

‘Please,’ Krillin said a quick prayer to himself, eyes darting frantically up, down, left, right, anywhere but straight ahead. Of course he’d known the Androids were ruthless, but he was only human and this was just cruel! Why was 18 doing this? Obviously the second he looked it was lights out for him. But 18 was waiting, and he didn’t really see any other choice. Oh well. Krillin surrendered. He was most certainly going to die, and really, as far as final images went, this one was pretty good. With a loud, nervous swallow, Krillin looked directly ahead, copping an absolute eyeful of undeniably spectacular cleavage, before moving his gaze up a few inches and meeting a pair of the iciest blue eyes he had ever come across.

“Enjoy the show?” 18 asked, as she stood back up, a big victory smirk sitting smugly on her face.

“Uh, sis, I think he’s about to be sick,” 17 took a curious step forward, apparently not at all phased by the threat of vomit. “Looking a bit green there, short stuff.”

“Really?” “Definitely.” “Ugh. Gross.”

18 let out a sound that was half groan, half sigh and all frustration as she took a step towards the queasy looking Krillin and in one swift movement, kicked him square in the gut. Not too hard, she didn’t want to kill him yet, but with just enough force to knock him a block or so down the street. Not even 17, who was usually pretty good at reading his crazy sister, had seen it coming and he couldn’t help but laugh as he watched the small bald warrior fly through the air, a stream of literal projectile vomit following behind him.

They watched until he landed with an unceremonious thud in the middle of an empty intersection. Show over, 17 was finally able to turn away from the spectacle, and towards his sister. His one arched eyebrow said more than any words he could produce would be able to.

“I didn’t want him to get it on my boots,” 18 answered his question before he had even asked it. She shrugged her shoulders as she turned her back on the messy scene. “I like these boots.”

 Krillin pushed himself up onto his elbows, pain shooting through every fibre of his body as he tried to piece together what in the hell had just happened. His brain was still cowering behind that car 50 meters up ahead, it needed a few seconds to catch up. That was okay, Krillin had time to wait. It wasn’t like he was completely helpless and alone with two sociopathic killers or anything. What the hell was taking Vegeta so long? If he showed up with a Slurpee or something, Krillin would be so pissed!

“Hey!” apparently his brain had also detoured for an icy treat, because Krillin did not remember standing up, or shouting out to the Androids, who had already lost interest in him and were walking away. Yet here he was, doing exactly that. What was wrong with him? Why was he so hell bent on dying today? “Hey, stop!”

Krillin could feel that vomit coming back up as the twins stopped in their tracks and spun back to face him. He was a good distance away from them now, too far to hear what they were saying to each other, but close enough to know he was still in big trouble.

“Or what?” 17 called, his voice echoing down the empty road. Even from here, Krillin could see the sadistic grin on the Androids face. He swallowed nervously.

 “Or I’ll blast you into the next dimension!”

‘Oh thank god.’ The sound of Vegeta’s voice made Krillin weak at the knees. Relief flooded through him and he may have felt a few tears stinging at the corners of his tired eyes, not that he would ever admit it.

 “Oh, great,” 18 rolled her eyes. Vegeta was a cocky piece of shit who had no right to swan around acting as high and mighty as he did. Sure, he might have been the most technically accomplished fighter this planet had to offer, but he was still no match for her.

“Vegeta,” she spat out his name like it was a bad taste in her mouth. Honestly, she wasn’t in the mood for a real fight today, she just wanted to pick off weaklings like Krillin without ruining her outfit. “You take him,” 18 said to her brother, “I can’t be bothered with that buffoon today.”

“With pleasure!” 17 was like a kid in a candy store as he leapt off the ground and charged up into the sky towards Vegeta. A fierce battle broke out between them immediately. It was a flurry of lighting quick kicks and punches, much too fast for the normal eye to keep track of. 18 held up hands up above her eyes, as a sort of make-shift sun visor, it was a bright day and she wanted the best view possible, it was always fun watching Vegeta get his arse kicked.

 What was happening up above was of very little concern to Krillin right now. He could hear the sonic boom like crashes as arms and legs collided, the familiar crackle of a charging Ki beam and more than a healthy amount of swearing, but he was much more interested in what was happening on the ground.

18 had all but forgotten than he existed as she watched her brother clash with the only person on this planet who was any sort of real threat to them. This was his chance to escape.

Carefully, with the stealthiness of a ninja, Krillin tiptoed his way out of the intersection. 18 either hadn’t noticed his departure, or she didn’t care that he was running away, but he was able to slip around the corner of a building and out of her immediate sight with relative ease. For the first time since he’d offered to go on this stupid mission for Bulma – lesson learned there - Krillin let out a sigh of relief. He felt his muscles starting to relax as he rested his back against the cool brickwork and closed his eyes, he hadn’t realised how tensed up he was. Thank god the Androids didn’t actually engage him in a fight, he was not prepared.

“Help!”

What was that? Krillin’s eyes shot open and he instinctively dropped his body into a battle position. “Help!” he heard it again, a loud whisper. Normally, Krillin would have raced blindly towards the cry, ready to help whoever it was who needed him. Now though, after the cruel encounter he had just had with 18, he wouldn’t put it past her to play mind tricks on him, and so he preceded slowly with weary caution.

Following the sound of frightened whimpering, Krillin ventured into the guts of the building he was hiding behind. Like most every other structure in the city, and the whole world probably, it was mostly collapsed and in no way a safe place to seek refuge, but when the Androids showed up, you hid where you hid and worried about structural integrity later.

“Hello?” Krillin whispered into the darkness, carefully stepping over broken office furniture and collapsed cubical walls. As his eyes adjusted to their new dark surroundings, he was able to make out a figure huddled behind a makeshift forte of old desks which had been pushed onto their sides. Two figures actually.

“Please, sir, help us.”

A woman, maybe in her early twenties popped out from behind the desks, she had a small child, who looked to be about three or four with her, clinging tightly to her leg. She was wearing tattered clothes which were covered in a thick layer of grime, but that wasn’t what caught Krillin’s attention at first. It was her eyes. They were wild with fear. “What’s wrong? Are you alone?”

“Yes,” the woman nodded, seemingly grateful to have found someone kind in this cruel world. “Yes, it’s just me and my son, please, we need supplies. Food, water, anything. Can you help?” She wrung her hands together nervously, already preparing for a no.

Instinctively, Krillin went to reach for his backpack before remembering he’d given it to Yumcha. He had nothing. But he couldn’t do nothing. Not with that woman’s scared eyes burning right into him, begging for help.

A sound interrupted Krillin just as he was about to reply to the woman’s heart wrenching plea. A sizzling noise he knew all too well. “Watch out!” he yelped and lunged towards the woman and her child, knocking them both to the floor. He managed to reach out and scoop the boy into his grip as he was falling, pulling all three of them into a tight huddle, and as he did, a stray energy ball came careening into the building, missing them only by meters. By using his own body as a shield, Krillin was able to protect the pair from the danger of the flaming debris that was falling all around them. It burned through the thin jumper he was wearing as it hit him, scolding his skin, but he had been through worse before, and knew  worse would be coming after, so he grit his teeth and took it, knowing that he was capable of surviving much more than this.

“Are you okay?” he asked, lifting himself up off the pair as he did, and trying not to wince at the long forgotten, yet intimately familiar pain of fresh burns.

The poor woman wrapped her arms around her wailing son and pulled him close into her, she stroked his dark hair and kissed the side of his head over and over, fully aware of how close to losing him she had just been. “Thank you” she said through tears, “Thank you, thank you. You saved us. I’m Nora, this is my son, Ronin.”

“My name is Krillin,” he smiled a warm, honest smile at the pair, but it was short lived. They were still in very real danger. “We need to get out of here. We’re not safe.”

Carefully, Krillin lead the mother and son towards the exit of the dark building. The explosion had blocked their original path, but with some careful rearranging of obstacles, they were able to make it back out into the bright sunlight. Up above Vegeta and 17 were still trading blows, it was hard to tell who had the upper hand from down here, but Krillin had a feeling it wasn’t Vegeta. This whole area could be nothing more than a smoking hole in the ground any second, they needed to get away.

Where the hell was 18? Krillin’s eyes darted around frantically, he had no idea which way to go. Not that it made much difference really, it wasn’t like they were going to outrun her if she decided to toy with them. “This way,” he arbitrarily picked a direction and began to run.

[shima-draws]

Here it is...the AU I’ve been hinting at lately!!

It’s called Tied Dimensions! I’d give you a basic summary but it’s all already written out below, so you can just read that and get the gist :’) I just think the whole concept is super exciting so.

Read and enjoy!! (It’s from Keef’s POV btw)

My world ended about two hundred and fifty years ago.

We call it World’s Terminus. An unexplained phenomena that plunged the world into darkness and terror, without any prior warning. Nobody saw it coming. Therefore, nobody was prepared. There isn’t much one can do when the world begins to fall apart around them, except run and cower and hide—that is, if you can even make it that far.

I’m what comes after World’s Terminus—what remains of humanity from our planet’s collapse. Billions of people were wiped out from the incident, and the rest were left to rebuild society and start anew. Not that it was easy, considering everything important had been destroyed in the turmoil.

The one really sad thing about my existence is that, even though the world’s population is alarmingly low and needs all the life it can get, I was abandoned. Cast out. Not needed.

I live at a dingy old orphanage on the edge of a broken town, along with the rest of humanity’s unwanted. We’re a gang of angry, depressed misfits who curse what our world has come to, and wonder where it all went wrong. Not that we’d be able to change the outcome, anyway. It’s way too late for that.

This world no longer has any color, not that anybody alive remembers what having color is like. Everything green died, the sky turned a murky gray and all life seemed to be sucked out of the ground like a vacuum. There are still a few artifacts left behind of the world that was before World’s Terminus—but I’ve never seen them. They’re kept in the highest places in society, where the rich and elite live clinging on to the edges of their sanity. Old photographs, paintings and images from the past, the only things left in this world that still have color.

Not that everything has turned completely monotone, of course not. But anything that was once vibrant has none of that brilliance anymore, leaving us in a town full of grays, blacks and browns, and not much else. I have no idea what the color red looks like. Isn’t that utterly tragic?

I spend my days ostracized by the bullies of the orphanage, and ordered around by our so-called caretakers. None of them are kind people, so I’ve learned to do what I’m told without complaint or face beatings.

Any hope I might have had towards escaping this godforsaken place vanished years and years ago. People don’t want to adopt children, they’re too busy figuring out how to survive, how to keep their heads straight on a planet that hasn’t seen the sun in over two-hundred years. Our skies are always gray now, our whole lives are gray. What a boring, dull color.

I’m almost eighteen now. In a few months, I’ll finally be able to break free and cast off, off to some place that doesn’t reek of death and sadness, and at least try to find a place for myself in this world. I’ll no longer have to bow down to the obligations of the people who have raised me, and I won’t have to ever see the twisted, ugly faces of my peers who think they’re everything, when they’re actually nothing.

On the days where I feel more alone and angry than ever, I sneak out the back window and go exploring through the ruins of World’s Terminus.

Not much has happened to our planet after it came to an abrupt end, so things have stayed in tact quite well over the centuries. Old buildings from years and years ago still stand, and it’s in these buildings I like to poke around and see what I can find. The place I frequent most often is the old school building, a couple miles away from the orphanage.

Whenever I walk through the dusty halls and abandoned classrooms I feel this strange sense of nostalgia wash over me, and I desperately wish I could have had a normal life, attending school and making actual friends. My “brothers” and “sisters” at the orphanage don’t count. I’m not sure what having friends is like, but whatever relationship we happen to share is definitely not that.

It’s on one of these days when I come back from my adventures that everything I knew gets turned upside down. Literally.

There’s a visitor at the orphanage, which rarely ever happens at all. That’s the first sign that something is up. Secondly, and much to my immense shock, this stranger is dressed in the strangest clothing I’ve ever seen, and—there’s color. Some weird hue I’ve never seen before, except maybe reflected in the shadows of my eyes. Purple…that’s what I’ve been told what color my eyes are. Or, at least, dark purple.

The stranger’s eyes light up upon seeing me, and I only have moments to take in his short black hair and healthy skin tone before he grabs my hand and shakes it eagerly.

“You’re Keith, right? Keith Kogane.”

He tells me he wants me to participate in a special project with him. Doesn’t really give any more details than that, even when I ask him who he is or where he comes from. The only thing I manage to get is his name—Shiro. Takashi Shirogane, but his friends call him Shiro. So this guy has friends…

Needless to say I’m skeptical, I mean, who wouldn’t be? This isn’t some sort of fairy tale where I’m the chosen hero who gets tossed into a grand adventure trying to save a princess or some bullshit. This world doesn’t work that way. It’s too dreary and lifeless for something that magical to happen to me of all people.

In the end, though, my curiosity wins over my suspicions, so I eventually decide to go with him.

If this turns out to be some sort of plot to lure me out and kill me, fine. It’s not like I have much to live for, anyway. I’ve just been biding my time until something happens—either I die from some tragic accident or finally get out of that hell house of an orphanage and try to make it on my own.

To my confusion, Shiro takes me to the old school building. A sense of apprehension builds up in my gut, telling me that this might be a murder attempt after all. Should I make a run for it?

“I’ve chosen you because you’re special, Keith,” Shiro explains as we weave our way through the halls, kicking up dust as we go. Oh, great. Not this bullshit again.

“You have an ability that not many other people have. That’s why…” He pauses to let out a soft laugh. “Well, you’ll see in a bit. I don’t want to overwhelm you right away.”

We reach the door to the courtyard, where we come to a halt. I gaze at the taller man curiously, with his sharp eyes and strong jaw, and wonder who the hell he is. Maybe he’s just crazy. Maybe he’s some elite bastard who went off the rails and decided to abduct a teenager to play games with him.

Shiro grabs the handle of the door and pulls, which is obviously stupid because these doors open outward, so you have to push them—

A weird click sounds. Shiro jiggles the door handle and, suddenly, slides the door to the right.

What. The fuck? Since when did it ever do that?

“Alright, here goes.” He gives me a smile and with a final tug, pulls it open.

I step out onto the other side of the courtyard door. What I find there is something that immediately brings me to tears.

More colors than I’ve ever seen before in my life greet my eyes. They bloom and blossom and explode in such a vibrancy that it makes me dizzy, crowding in all around and putting pressure on my skull.

The courtyard is teeming with life—grass sways in the wind, there’s the sound of laughter coming from somewhere off in the distance, and an enormous tree rustles above my head, scattering leaves here and there. I look up and see the sun for the first time, blinding and dazzling, so very bright.

It all sort of happens too quickly for me to process, so after instantaneously bursting into tears, I have to crouch down and bury my face in my knees. It’s too much. Too much information, too many colors I don’t know, it’s so vibrant and beautiful—

“Is that Shiro’s pet project?”

“Hey, n—what did you do to him, Shiro?”

Shiro sounds apologetic and slightly panicked. “I didn’t think—he’s overwhelmed. It’s too much for him to process. I’m sorry, Keith.”

“Aw, the poor thing!”

“Well yeah, if you bring him in from a world with no color to this he’s gonna freak out, dude. Sensory overload, you know?”

“Matt’s gonna kick your ass for this.”

“Keith, are you alright?”

My head is pounding and the world as I know it is swaying in front of my eyes, but I nod. Yes. I’m more than alright, I just—

“Hey, take it easy there, man. It’s a lot to take in, right?”

A voice sounds right next to my ear, melodical and soft. I can’t help but peek through my fingers a little.

Sitting in front of me is the most gorgeous human being I’ve ever laid my eyes on. And maybe that’s biased, coming from me, but it’s the truth. Sun-kissed skin and dark brown hair, a mischievous expression and lanky but strong limbs, and once again the weirdest clothing I’ve ever seen are what makes up this mysterious yet beautiful boy that has come into my midst. And the most astonishing thing of all are his eyes, a couple shades darker than the sky. I don’t know what color they are, but I think it’s my favorite now.

The boy tilts his head and beams at me, flashing a pair of pearly white teeth. Around him his friends all smile down at me, bursting, bursting with color. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more breathtaking.

This is…this is…

“Welcome to our world, Keith!”

This is World’s Variegation.

AND THAT’S IT!! TIED DIMENSIONS :’)

To sum things up: Keith lives in a world after the apocalypse, where there is no life, no meaning, and no color. One day Shiro shows up to the orphanage he lives at and takes him into an alternate dimension through the courtyard door that is teeming with life and color, things Keith’s never seen before, so he sorta has a breakdown and gets suuuuper overwhelmed. Like Lance said. Sensory overload it’s too much for his brain (which usually only sees dark colors and shades of gray) to take haha Keith learns that he is a Traverser, someone who can travel between dimensions, or rather what he calls World’s Terminus and World’s Variegation (I know the definition usually refers to plants, but I mean the definition as in “diversity of colors” so yeah haha). Shiro has chosen him to take part in the TDP, Tied Dimensions Project, which serves as a basis for research on both worlds and their connection to each other. However!! Like all of my AUs there’s a big secret behind the research and exactly why Shiro brought Keith to the other world. Throughout all of this Keith jumps back and forth between the dimensions every day, since he legally still belongs to the orphanage and has to go back. He starts to discover what LIVING really means with the help of all of Shiro’s friends, and starts falling in love with Lance. He gets to experience what the world could have been like if World’s Terminus never happened, and does all these amazing things he would have never even thought to dream of before...

Anyway yeah that’s the AU!! It’s really fun to think about and have Keith experience all these new and exciting things and just get overwhelmed about it all the time but his friends are like “It’s okay, we get it, just take a second to sit down and relax and chill” and it’s. NICE

SO YEAH HOPE YOU ENJOYED //JAZZ HANDS 

[tustinjomimori]

Oneshot- Purge

Boku no Hero Academia

Fatgum/Reader*

T+ rating

This is really fucking self indulgent. Huge trigger warnings for bulimia and emetophobia.

I do honestly wish that this wasn’t something that other people can relate to, but I know that that’s unrealistic. Eating disorders are terrible and can really drain you and keep you from enjoying your life and loving yourself. If you can relate to this: I hope my writing can help heal you in some small way. Most of this is written from having experienced these feelings first hand, so I know the shame and helplessness that comes with having a binge and purge eating disorder.

I absolutely love Fatgum and thinking about how he wouldn’t see anything wrong with anyone’s body, despite conventional beauty standards, is something I dwell on quite a bit. He’s such a great character and basically the perfect boyfriend imo. I think it’s pretty damn cool that a manga has finally given us a literal hero character who relies on their body fat for strength.

I also want anyone reading this to know that they can talk to me about their experiences if they ever want to. I’m always here to lend an ear or try to help in any way I can, because I fully understand how devastating bulimia can be. I’ve been dealing with it for around a year now and I’m still looking for the strength to get help. I hope that maybe this simple story can encourage someone else out there to take the steps that I’m still struggling to take, and to get help for themselves.

Remember that just because you have some problems, it doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve to be loved !! This is something I still have trouble believing myself, but please trust me when I tell you that it’s true.

*I wanna say reader is AFAB but idk if that’s like, politically correct? There’s talk of them having morning sickness so I guess just be warned of that? This is super self indulgent and I’m cis so 

You’re sitting on the floor of your boyfriend’s bathroom, deep in thought.

Why are you so ugly, so gross, so weak?? These are thoughts that cross your mind frequently, but especially at times like this.Your biggest question: How did you end up with such a great guy when you were…..like you were? Plain would be the politest word to describe yourself, you think. Your face is nothing memorable and your body is unattractive. You have no redeeming talents, your quirk is essentially worthless, and you don’t think your personality is all that exciting.

Your boyfriend on the other hand, he’s amazing. He’s a hero, and a pretty well known one. He’s Fatgum, the BMI hero, though you prefer to call him by his given name, Taishiro. It makes you feel special, closer to him than anyone else when you call him by his real name rather than his hero alias. But shit, the man was always making you feel special. Everything he did was so considerate, so kind. He was always complimenting you, calling you cute, beautiful, etc. You didn’t always believe him, though his massive and ever genuine smile could make it quite difficult to disagree with him.  

That man…. You couldn’t wrap your mind around why he was with you. Especially now, crouched next to his toilet with saliva and vomit smeared across your face. You know your eyes are red and watery and you recall your most recent date with your love. Last night had been the first time you had stayed over at Taishiro’s place, and holy shit, was it magical. He had made you a fabulous Italian dinner and paired it with the most delicious wine you had ever had. After dessert, which was an absolutely divine tiramisu, he took your hand and led you into the bedroom, where you spent the rest of the evening fucking slowly and tenderly, then hard and fast like sex-starved animals. Afterwards, you had curled up against his soft, warm body and fallen asleep. It was the best sleep you’ve had in what felt like ages (not to mention the best sex), and you awoke the next morning to find Taishiro in the kitchen, preparing the two of you a fabulous breakfast. That was when things went south.

Up until then, you had been able to hide your problem from your lover, and it had been easy. You often went out to eat together, but because neither of you seemed comfortable, or brave enough rather, to spend the night together, you were able to depart from your dates like nothing was wrong and deal with your problem in the privacy of your own home. Aside from the night previous, you were generally pretty regular with dealing with your problem after a large meal. Of course, with the way your boyfriend had you feeling, as if you were the luckiest person alive, the night earlier, you had no issues with ignoring your problem for just one night.

That morning, however, after a large portion of quiche, bread pudding, ham steak, and yogurt parfait, you just couldn’t take it. You couldn’t take the fullness in your stomach or the guilt in your mind. Conveniently for you, Taishiro was called in to deal with a predicament in the city following your meal, and he graciously allowed you to stay at his place to wait for him.

Your own shame kept you from performing your process right away, not wanting to make a mess of Taishiro’s small bathroom. You wiled away some time washing dishes and tidying the kitchen, before lounging on the sofa and watching television for a short time. But you couldn’t take it. You were just too full from that (admittedly marvelous) breakfast. Just looking down at your own stomach disgusted you and you finally got to your feet and rushed to the bathroom. Kneeling over the porcelain of the toilet, you pushed two fingers down your throat and proceeded to empty the contents of your stomach.  Once you had gotten out all that you could, you  sat back on the cold tile of the floor, resting your head against the wall and closing your eyes. Stomach acid burned in the back of your throat and shameful tears burned behind your eyelids. You were so busy feeling disgusted with yourself that you didn’t hear the apartment door open and close, or the footsteps headed your way. Damn, for such a big guy, Taishiro sure was stealthy.

“You doin’ OK there babe?” Your boyfriend's voice comes from the bathroom doorway and the sudden sound startles you. You jolt in surprise, then slowly turn your head to look at the huge form in the doorway. Taishiro is standing there, still in his hero costume but with his hood and mask removed.

“Fuck, oh, um, yeah. Hey babe….You got back quick.” You stumble through your words, suddenly realizing you never gave the toilet a final flush. Leaning forward to do just that, you can feel Taishiro’s large eyes studying you.

“Villain had already been caught by the time I got there.” He explains shortly.

“Mornin’ sickness?” He asks simply, taking you by surprise. You stare at him, wide eyed, from the floor as he lets out a small chuckle. “I’m jokin’, I know that ain’t it.” He reassures you. “Sorry, sorry.”

You finally stand up, your body feeling heavy despite losing the contents of its stomach just prior.

“I just felt really sick, I dunno.” You lie to him as you turn on the faucet and begin to wash your hands and face. “Food poisoning maybe.”

As you rinse out your mouth, you look back at Taishiro from the corner of your eyes and he’s looking at you with some combination of concern and disbelief.

He knows, he knows, he knows. You feel the tears hot in your eyes as you start to panic. He knows and he thinks you’re disgusting and he’s going to break up with you and you’ll be all alone like you deserve.

You have to go, you have to leave, he can’t see you like this.

You pointedly look away from Taishiro’s face (pretty easy to do since looking at him involves craning your head way back) and try to push past him. He doesn’t budge but instead puts a massive hand on your shoulder which you realize is shaking with the sobs that are suddenly wracking your body.

“Well that just proves it ain’t food poisonin’.” He mutters. “You wouldn’t be cryin’ if it were just that now would you?”

You don’t say anything, just place a hand over your mouth to try to stifle the hiccups and sobs coming from it.

“Hey, hey darlin’....” Taishiro gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “We can talk about it, come on outta there.” He maneuvers you so you’re standing in front of him and he shepherds you into the living room, gesturing for you to take a seat on the couch. You sit on the very far end and fold in on yourself.

You have to convince him it’s nothing, that it’s really just food poisoning and that you’re fine, just a little emotional. You can’t trust your voice at the moment though. You don’t know whether it will shake or break or if anything will come out at all so you keep your mouth tightly shut, swallowing your cries.

Taishiro hesitantly studies you, small as you can possibly make yourself on his large couch, and seats himself a couple of cushions away from you. He seems to want to give you some space, but he still leans in just close enough for you to feel his familiar body heat rolling off of him.

“I was uh...I was just jokin’ earlier but…..it ain’t really mornin’ sickness is it?” His voice is quieter than usual and you aren’t sure if that’s in an attempt to calm you or because asking that question is hard for him.

You sneak a peek at him from under one of your arms, which are wrapped around your legs, knees pulled up close to your face. He looks....worried, for sure. Maybe a little scared but mainly confused. You’ve never broken down on him like this before and he must be overwhelmed.

Taishiro removes his gloves and fiddles with them in his lap while he awaits your response.

“It’s not…..” You manage to choke out. Taishiro gives a sigh of relief and looks back at you. The ball you’ve folded yourself into has loosened and he can see your tear soaked face through the gap under your arm.

“That’s great.” He blurts out. “I mean….that’s a good thing right, hun?”

You nod slowly and try to untangle your own limbs from each other. You wonder how worried he must have been to ask such a question.

He deserves to know, right? Even if he dumps you, you would deserve it, and he deserves to be told the truth, you figure.

“Taishiro….I, um….” You still can’t look him in the eye so you study your own hands for a few moments before they’re covered by one of Taishiro’s much larger ones.

“Ya don’t have to tell me if ya don’t wanna. If ya ain’t ready.” He reassures you. “I’m just real worried is all. Can ya….can ya at least tell me if you’re OK?” He squeezes your hands gently.

“Yeah. I’m….I’m ok.” You tell him. Was that a lie? “Or well, I’m not? But I am. It’s uh….It’s um, it’s usual for me actually.” You manage to get out.

“Usual? What is?” He presses. “If ya wanna say! Ya don’t gotta.”

“Mm, throwing up like that. It’s uh….I do it a lot….” You swallow down the rising fear in your throat and the dread you feel for your boyfriend’s reaction is worse than any purging session you’ve put yourself through so far.

“I um….” Fuck, you can’t say it. You just can’t. You look at Taishiro pleadingly, silently begging him to figure it out for himself.

A few long moments pass before you can see from his face that something has just clicked.

“Ya mean, ya make yourself…”

Before he can finish, you’re blurting out a garbled apology.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I didn’t want you to know! It’s gross, I’m disgusting and I didn’t want…. You weren’t supposed to find out!” You can’t look into Taishiro’s face, sure that you’ll see some form of disgust or disappointment on his features, so you look intently at his knee through your tears.

The silence stretches on for too long and you’re about to stand to gather your things so you can leave when you feel yourself being effortlessly lifted briefly into the air and then placed gently onto Taishiro’s lap.

“Babe…” He starts. “Babe, darlin’....I dunno what to say.” He doesn’t sound disgusted and the careful tone of his voice gives you the courage to finally look back up into your lover’s face. His brows are furrowed, and his eyes are shining like maybe he’s holding back his own tears. Oh.

He brings a hand up to your face and caresses your cheek. You want to lean into his touch but you can’t handle being seen in your current state, so you bury your face against his body instead. He continues to caress you, carding a hand through your hair and using his other hand to rub circles across your back.

“It’s OK hun. It’s OK, I’ve got ya.” He whispers against the crown of your head, kissing your hair.

“I’m sorry.” You sob against him.

“Ain’t no reason to be.” He replies. “And ya ain’t disgustin’.” He adds. “You’re the loveliest, most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” He sounds so sincere but you can’t help but contradict him.

“I’m not. Why else would I do something like this? It’s because I’m nasty and my body is terrible and ugly and-” You cut yourself off as Taishiro squeezes you closer against him.

“That just ain’t true.” He presses. “I always thought ya had an amazin’ body. And ya really proved it to me last night.” He says with a small laugh. “You’re the total package babe; beautiful, not just your body but your face and your personality hun. I love all of ya.”

Of course he wouldn’t leave you. Not because of this. You feel so stupid for doubting him but before you can open your mouth to apologize once more, he goes on. “I do, I really love ya and….Well I don’t know how yet but we can make it through this together, yeah? I’ll support ya. No matter what. I see how much this hurts ya and I just want ya to get better.”

You can feel Taishiro’s hoodie beneath your face getting wetter and wetter with your tears and snot. How could you ever think this perfect man would leave you because of something like this? You remove your face from his chest and look up into his eyes. He’s looking down at you fondly and you again wonder how in the world you got so goddamn lucky.

“I love you too Taishiro.” You whisper, your voice strained from crying. “I love you so much and I want to get better but I don’t know how….”

“We’ll figure it out together.” He promises and leans down further to kiss your cheek. “I’ll never let ya go.”

You still don’t really like yourself. You still think you’re plain and boring and that your body is far from ideal. But maybe, you think, maybe with Taishiro in the picture you can learn to love yourself the way he loves you; wholeheartedly and despite your flaws.

[dwam-crack-blog]

The Surrogate

This is the first thing I’ve written in a long while. Well, as far as short stories go. It’s pretty rushed and sloppy but I’ve never been the type to not show off my work, regardless of how good or bad it might be, so. Hope you like it anyway because that’s just the way I am.

And because of ego.

Mostly ego.

____________________________________________________

Bone marrow makes up about a little over 4% of the average human being's body weight. And like with everything in the human body, it's one of those things your biology teacher smirked about as he mused over how such seemingly "small" parts of us can have such a huge impact on our daily lives. If he was the religious sort, he might've tried to maybe sneak in the ol:' "Have you ever noticed how the human body just... works? Hmm... Almost like a machine! Ah, but machines are designed by us, their creators. Why, almost as if..." He probably didn't go any further than that because the principal was just dying to have his ass and, let's face it, everyone would've gotten the point anyway.

Still, your snarky biology teacher probably had a point. For something that tiny, the damned things really do put in work.

...Huh?

Bone marrow. I'm talking about bone marrow.

It produces roughly 500 billion blood cells per day. That's billion with a 'b'.

But see - you're not surprised. Because of course you're not. The human body is awesome like that. It does all this crazy shit that you know is crazy shit because everyone keeps saying it's crazy shit. There's no real 'oomph' to it anymore.

Then again, there's only so much 'oomph' you can give when you glance at the body of your average Joe Schmoe. It's just kinda… There. It eats, it sleeps, it sits down at the TV and watches other relatable Joe Schmoes go on about their daily lives of eating, sleeping and sitting down to watch the TV. And I'm not dissing Joes out there. Like, the beefcakes aren't doing any better. You look at them and it's just... gross, right? But more importantly...

It's all kind of boring.

The human body is boring.

It's little more than that action figure you begged for your mom to get you as a kid, promising you'll play with it every day ever, and then left on the shelf to gather dust until you eventually sold it to some collector so you could afford getting high the next Friday.

Now, with the way you're looking at me, I'm starting to think you're not really relating to me much here. Well, you'll be pleased to know that I'm not relating to myself either. I'm doing that thing where I pretend to understand how the average high school mind works in hopes of getting you on my side.

I know. It's pretty shitty. And I get that.

But the human body is also shitty. On top of being boring, it also falls apart. It's fragile. For all the praise that I really do have to give it, claiming it's a crowning achievement of anything is kind of sad. It's weak against things it doesn't understand. It must suffer and hope to overcome.

Break one bone and it becomes a hazard to literally everything surrounding it.

Breathe a certain element every moment or you die.

Ingest a certain amount of food or you'll pass out.

Ingest too much and you'll have a heart attack.

Get hit in a certain part of your skull, and it goes right to the brain.

Oh, and the brain -- the brain can rebel. The brain can lie.

As a product, the human body is a disgrace.

As a machine, though, it exists to be improved.

 I mean, that's--That's what...

 Sorry. Give me a sec here. No, don't-- just. Stay there.

 ...I wasn't always like this. I didn't think about these things.

But at some point, life just kicks you in the teeth and it's more a matter of "having to" rather than "wanting to".

And for me, it all started when that thing bit me.

I shouldn't call it a “thing". It was human. Once. Homeless, by the looks of it. Makes sense. They're usually the best targets. Their blood generally has the least taste to it, so you can detach yourself from the situation. No need to drag them to a dark corner when they're already living in one. They're too weak and tired to resist. And even if they scream - nobody ever comes.

...So I've heard, anyway.

 My transformation took about two days, I want to say. I went to the doctor and he said I checked out fine. He joked about the bite marks. I joked, too. It was before... well, everything. Nobody knew.

Stop looking away. I'm just... getting my thoughts in order. I'm not trying to treat you like an idiot. I want you to understand.

On the third day, I realized I couldn't leave my home. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't even peek out the window. Drawing the curtains wasn't enough. At first, I thought it was a migraine. A fever.  But it eventually got so bad that I got electrical tape and used my bedsheets to cover the entire wall. I spent hours checking to make sure I did it right.

The idiots keep saying even now that it's because it burns us.

But that isn’t it.

It blinds.

Because of the shift in the circulatory and digestive system, the amount of blood sent across the organs changes. It increases. That's why the "feeding" was even a thing. We had to compensate for our new body's demands.

In that shift of priorities, the amount of blood going to the eye sockets jumps. It becomes unable to figure out how to properly handle extremely lit areas. Light refracts incorrectly and falls on the wrong nerves, causing pain. No image is produced.

I'm -- look. I'm telling you all this so you can understand what your dad was helping me out with, okay? He made these lenses for me. He did good work. Nobody else has them. They're just for me.

Do you get that?

Do you understand how much he meant to me?

 Wait. Wait, no.

No, that's... I'm sorry. I'm still kinda freaking out, I guess. I mean, you're the one sitting here with--

...

Heh.

Well, there's a nervous chuckle out of me. I'm on the right track here.

 ...It didn't take me long to figure out what was happening. Or, at least, take a guess. I mean, I could literally see my body shift and change just by looking in the mirror. It made me sick, but I couldn't even puke. I was hungry, but I didn't WANT food. I pissed and shat blood.

And just a few hours later, I felt better than I ever did in my entire life.

I rushed out of my apartment. The night air was cold but it was like I barely felt it. Like I was sitting back in my comfy chair in some control center and just enjoying the ride. Of course - I didn't have any superpowers.

And by the way, that whole thing's bullshit - just gonna lay that one out there. It's pure bullshit. It doesn't happen. It's a myth. End of story.

You can't fly. You can't run fast. You can't sparkle.

Although - you remember how every part of the body gets an increased amount of blood flowing through it?

I really did mean every part.

So, naturally, I went to my girlfriend's. She seemed more surprised over seeing me smiling than how pale I looked. But I shrugged it off by just saying I was sick.

And goddamn. What a night.

What

a horrible

fucking night.

Don't get me wrong. The sex was fantastic. While it was going, at least.

Then I gave her a little love bite and...

Well.

I did say I didn't eat anything. And, I mean, not like I was really, seriously thinking that I was a -- look, you get it, right?

Right.

She said I bit her too hard. I mean, of course I did. So, she ended up kicking me out.            

We hooked up a few times after that. Once all of... this... was out in the open. I mean, why not, you know? We can't have children. STDs can't touch us. So why not have some fun?

Okay, okay. I get it. I'm getting gross. I guess I was just kind of bragging.

 Right. Not the right time.

 I made my way home. Dawn was nearing and although I didn't have everything figured out, my paranoia was rightfully telling me to start picking up the pace.

The city was quiet for a change. The streets dead and empty. I could hear my own footsteps echoing.

My own footsteps... and the sound of a car, swirling as it desperately tried to regain control.

The driver was a retired shoes salesman who'd just found out his wife got full custody. The usual. He went to a bar. As you do. He got drunk. Of course he did. He drove back home, thinking about he was going to sit down and watch some TV about more Joe Schmoes. As everyone does.

And then, he fell asleep. Naturally.

And he hit a pot hole. What else could he have done?

And by the time he woke up, he was too confused to remember to hit the brake. God forbid he had.

So, I guess it's quite natural that he ended up smashing into me; smushing my body tightly between fresh grafitti and the hood of his 1986 third generation Ford Mustang.

I cried a lot. I screamed a lot.

Dawn had broken.

 I woke up in a hospital bed. They said they'd given me a transfusion. I nodded. They asked if I could hear them. A bone in my neck was broken and I instinctively jerked my head slightly forward in shock. They took that as a "yes".

They had questions. About me. About my blood.

I didn't know what to tell them.

It's kind of hard to believe, looking back on it. We'd supposedly been around for centuries, and yet THAT was the only time someone had ever landed themselves in a hospital?

Even now, I can't believe it.

 The part that followed, I guess you know better than I do.

Suddenly, Joe Schmoes weren't looking at themselves anymore. They were looking at something new. Something different.

Something not boring.

 They didn't experiment on me, but that's only because I became such a poster boy.  I was the one they'd invite to the talk shows. I was the one getting on TIME magazine. I was the one getting all the fake Twitter accounts made under his name. I was the one getting to suddenly have my hair slicked back so I could actually look like fucking Dracula. I was the one that had people ship him blood in packs neatly placed in ice containers. Poor things didn't know my manager was getting some for me on a weekly basis. (I never asked from where.)

No. No, they didn't experiment on me.

It began with the homeless - and it continued with the homeless. And about that part, I know about as much as the next guy. They're still doing it. I mean - we all know they are. Uh - you mind if I smoke here?

...I'll take that as a "whatever".

 So that's how I came to know your dad. By just being an interesting new thing at a certain point in time.

He sent me his invention in the mail. I'm still shocked he got it through shipping.

His idea was simple, but frankly - genius.

A machine that would increase the productivity of the bone marrow - doubling the blood cell count made in a day. It made sense. Without the need for food, the only thing the body solely relies on is BLOOD. That's what makes us special.

Our bodies take blood to make more blood.

Our bone marrows can take a little bit of something and make even more of it.

Magic.

And your dad figured out how it could make us even more. So much that there was no need for "feeding". We had become self-sustaining. A perpetuum mobile!

Yeah. It was magic. And your dad was the master of the arts.

 Of course I called him. Of course I called my manager. Of course I called whoever came to fucking mind.

And of course what happened next happened.

"Dracula and Dr. Frankenstein." What a shitty title for a duo. But your dad liked it.

 And once the word got out - well. The same thing that always happens happened.

The whole world wanted to piss and shit blood.

 No more worries of getting old. No more worries of starving to death. No more fear of heart attacks. Of getting too fat or too skinny.

Get stabbed? No trouble - just increase the Marrow Machine to 11 and no blood loss for you! Get shot? Stay cool, my dude - your senses are so dulled, they can cut you open and just take the bullet out as is!

 And after the Spanish government pulled off that Mr. Burns scheme of covering up Barcelona with a big giant dome to hide the sunlight?

It was a fucking riot.

I mean, literally.

But it doesn't matter how much you scream or shout. Change is change. Sooner or later, you're forced to accept it.

And here we are.

The whole world, in darkness.

And yet, here I am, still wearing the lenses.

 ...Your father was a smart man.

He realized that with the way things are going, it's only a matter of time before the scales tip and you become just a skeleton in a museum.

It's evolution.

 Unfortunately, this... all this... didn't make us any smarter.

For all the advantages we have, we're not immortal. We just think we are. And it's only a matter of time before the high wears off and everything goes back to normal. To being boring and predictable. To the endless bickering and bloodshed. And there's gonna be a lot more blood.

And by the time everyone realizes you can still die from getting your head cut off, there'll be way too few of us left.

And it won't matter how much we fuck.

That belly will never grow again.

It isn't just evolution.

It's also the final chapter.

 Your father, being the smart man that he was, also realized this. And he rejected it.

While it was true that two of our kind could never procreate... amid all this chaos and noise... nobody had actually bothered to see what happens when a human womb carries a tainted child. It was sort of unthinkable. Like bestiality of sorts.

But he wanted to try it. He had to.

And so he chose the only specimen he could find. That he could get away with.

 You.

 I don't know what he told you.

I don't know what he did to you.

I don't know about the things that went on behind closed doors in this house.

 I didn't know about any of this.

I didn't know... it's mine.

I had nothing to do with any of that.

I'm just the guy who got on TV.

 But also, I...

 I do know that he's dead.

His corpse is in the basement.

I know that you killed him.

And I know that's that.

I know that.

 ...What happens now is up to you.

I don't hate you.

I don't want to hurt you.

I know it'd be wrong if I did.

But to be perfectly honest, I... don't care what you do.

 I just want to go back home and get some sleep.

I don't want to be here.

I don't want to be having this conversation.

I don't want to keep saying these things to you.

I don't want to keep trying to get you to understand that  I--I really didn't...

That none of this was what I...

 ...I don't want to keep rambling.

I don't want to think anymore about how I sound to you.

I don't want to keep deciding what I should do right now, as his friend.

 His body smells.

 Your father was a smart man.

I'm sure he would've known what to say.

 But... But there he is.

Down there.

 ...I'm tired.

I want to go home.

I don't know what you want me to say.

 ...I bet you just want me to shut up and leave you alone.

 Yeah. Yeah, okay.

Do what you want. It's your life.

Enjoy the time you have left.

I think I've made it pretty clear that I'm not father material. In any way.

So keep that in mind in case you choose to...

 Right.

 I'm keeping the lenses, though.

On some days, I see kids - kids that got turned - hurling stones at the dome.

 It makes me think.

[officialmaleclibrary]

This month we’re showcasing an author in the fandom who has written popular works such as Journey To The Past and Spoilers, Darling!. You can find Ali on ao3 as theloverneverleaves and on tumblr as isabellebiwoods, and we’d like to thank her once again for taking part in the OML author showcase! 

1. When did you start writing fics? Tell us a little of your journey as a fic writer.

I can remember writing fiction since I was maybe seven years old for a class project. I know I was writing fanfiction not long after that, because I have a notebook of bits of self-insert esque Harry Potter fanfic that I probably wrote at eight or nine, and all I can say is thank God I didn’t have fanfiction sites back then because that’s definitely not something I need immortalised haha.

Really Harry Potter was what started me writing - I got involved in very wordy RPG sites back in 2006, and most of my writing grew up around that community. RP is what helped me learn how to characterise, how to develop people into people instead of just 2D cut outs to fill a role.

Because that was always such a big part of my writing, my fanfiction career is a bit spotty. My first published fanfic was on fanfic.net back in 2010, when I used to write for The Vampire Diaries. I came back to it for Pacific Rim and Orphan Black around 2013-2014, and then disappeared. Then I found Shadowhunters and here we are!

2. What fic of yours are you most proud of and why?

The project I’m most proud of is the #ficsformalecvotes promo I ran for the E! Online poll. Not because of any of the particular pieces I wrote (although some of them were super fun), but just because it was the first time in a really long time I actually sat down and wrote so much so quickly, with so much interaction and enthusiasm people. It was an amazing project and I’m still really proud of everything I achieved in that.

Also the line “my best friend is a Buddhist pot” was inspired, I have no idea where I got it from but I’m fairly sure that I’m never going to write anything better than that lmfao.

3. Who is your favorite character to write and why? Which character do you find the most challenging to write?

My favourite character to write is always, always Magnus. As a character, his history and his personality really layers in a sense of depth that’s amazing to play with. His loyalty, sense of humour and general badassery always make for an interesting story!

As for most challenging, it’s usually the characters with quieter voices or less source material to work from - Luke and Maia I always feel nervous about because I’m never sure if I’ve got it right! I usually feel the same about Clary; I never feel sure if I’ve characterised her properly or not.

4. What is the hardest part about being a fic author? The easiest?

The easiest part is the ideas! I never seem to be short of things I want to write, and new opportunities arise everywhere. Anything from a conversation to a couple of words to a song can give me a story I know I want to invest in. But equally, the hardest part is finding the time and often the energy to write. I work a full time job, so when I get home at night, finding the strength to sit down and just write something can often feel like the hardest thing in the world. When it happens, though, it’s usually so worth it.

5. What inspires you? Where do you find your muse?

Anything! Inspiration can come from anywhere, at any time. Songs, movies, little ideas on tumblr. My favourite thing to do is to talk to people, though. To talk about what I’m writing, about ideas I have and what I want to be writing. So honestly, if you ever wanna talk about anything fic or AU related, please message me because you will literally be doing me a favour!

6. How do you power through writer’s block?

Honestly, writers block is horrible, and don’t let anyone tell you different. I’ll let it sit for a while, but eventually I try and push through. Usually trying new things, even if they’re bad and I end up throwing them away, is what works for me! I’ll end up with a lot of really short pieces lying around, but having achieved that usually makes it far easier to move forward!

7. Do you have a favorite fic from another author?

secrets that you keep by beautifulbane has been one of my favourite completed fics recently! It has all my favourite tropes without really compromising on character, which is an achievement. I’m also a sucker for all Hockey AUs, and anything involving dragons.

8. What’s something you’re looking forward to in the upcoming season of Shadowhunters?

Magnus’ history being actually used and explored like it deserves to be!! Also more Malec development, more of my favourites, and more of the gay ships I’ll never have.

9. Can you give us a sneak peek to what you’re writing next? Or at least any hints to what’s to come?

So I’m currently still working on Journey to the Past, which is my Anastasia AU! I’ve had a bit of a break from it, but I’m determined to finish it. Hopefully there isn’t too much left, but I’m adding some twists and turns that the movie definitely didn’t have, so it could get interesting!

After that I’ll probably start something new… who knows what, really! I always have little things going on at the same time though, so just watch my tumblr for what pops up!

10. Do you have advice for anyone who might be interested in writing fan fiction?

Know your source material, and then just sit down and write!! When I started doing fanfic I’d be doing missing scenes, but if I have a source easily available, I usually re-watch it as I’m writing. Once you get to the point of truly new content though, you really just have to go for it! Practice, practice, practice. Open yourself up to feedback, get people to give you two positives and something to work on, and just keep writing. Practice is the only thing that works, and one day you’ll be able look back at where you started and see how far you’ve come.

11. Who is your favorite published author? Why?

I find it really hard to pick a favourite author, because individual stories are what matter the most to me. But for this, I’m going to give a shout-out to Patrick Rothfuss - I’ve only read the In The Name of The Wind, but I’ve never known anyone else to make what’s actually a fairly common plotline sound like poetry. The man knows how to describe a scene and set a mood without it getting tedious, and that is definitely a skill to be admired.