#How cruel how heartbreaking the monster buries her heart when it could be her only salvation-

[inkperch]

The lack of Edelgard and Flayn centric fics drives me absolutely up the wall. It's bad enough they don't really Get Into It in canon, but come on, even fanfics tend to keep the two of them apart?? Really???

[thornedrose44]

Our Love Is Not Fickle

TW: Facial Scar

Read on: AO3

“Honestly, the worst thing you can do is stare.” Lena snapped, turning her head away from the superhero shifting uncomfortably in the doorway.

“Lena.” Kara breathed, her voice cracking in that way Lena loathed.

It was a crack of sympathy, of heartbreak, of… of… pity.

Lena was so fucking tired of being pitied.

“Don’t.” Lena ordered coldly, despising how weak the command sounded when issued from a hospital bed. “I don’t… I don’t want to hear fucking platitudes. I don’t want to hear that everything will get better. I don’t want to hear that it could have been worse. I don’t… I don’t…”

She wanted to keep going but the words caught in her throat as she lost the embittered war to the choked sobs she had been fighting so desperately to hold back. 

Kara was by her side faster than humanly possible, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling the raven-haired woman gently into her arms, holding her close and pressing tender kisses to the top of her head. 

“I know it's pathetic and ungrateful…” Lena hiccuped, clutching at Kara like she was the only safe harbour in sight after a month-long storm.

“No, Lena… no…” Kara refuted, shaking her head firmly as she stroked Lena’s back trying to soothe her like her mother did when she was a child still afraid of monsters under the bed. “It’s not, you’re not, I promise.”

“I know I should just be grateful-”

“You get to feel however you want. No one gets to tell you otherwise, okay?” Kara insisted.

“I just…” Lena sobbed, as she buried her face into Kara’s shoulder, never wanting to see the light of day ever again.

“Take your time, zhao.” Kara murmured, “Take your time.”

It was as if Lena had been waiting for permission, because as soon as she was given it, her sobs increased in fervour. 

She cried and cried and cried until she had nothing left to give.

At some point Kara had carefully arranged them both so they were lying down on the hospital bed; Kara on her back with Lena held close to her chest whilst she combed Lena’s hair with her fingers, intermittently scratching her scalp to steadily ease away the coiled tension within the raven-haired woman.

Once Lena was drained of tears, she was merely left feeling numb and disconnected. She slowly shifted out of Kara’s embrace and into the empty space at her side, quickly burying the right side of her face into the pillow. Kara let her go without a fight, not wanting Lena to feel restrained or stifled, though it was clear from the downturn to the corner of her mouth that she was displeased with the sudden lack of physical contact between them.

Silence settled over them as Lena took a sweet minute to admire Kara’s features, golden and sublime.

“I would understand, you know…” Lena muttered, painfully neutral.

Kara tilted her head to the side, the little crinkle between her eyebrows appearing that Lena normally could never resist reaching out to lightly touch, “Understand, what?”

“If…” Lena cleared her throat and hardened her heart, “if this changed things for you.”

Kara’s entire face went blank, void of everything except for the clench of her jaw, “I don’t understand… at least I really hope I don’t understand.”

Lena took a deep breath, ready to break her own heart, “I know you’re not with me purely for my looks, I know that-”

“Do you?” Kara exclaimed with a deep frown that looked so out of place occupying the place where a beaming grin should’ve been, “Because it doesn’t sound like you do for you to even be suggesting that I-”

“Let’s be real here, Kara… we both know how out of my league you are.” Lena declared sharply.

“You can’t be serious.” Kara said disbelievingly with a distraught shake of her head, “Lena, you can’t genuinely think that I would abandon you because of this?”

“No, you’re too noble.” Lena agreed, “I know that. That’s why I’m giving you an out. I won’t tell anyone,” Lena promised, “just go. We both know you want to.”

“No!” Kara yelled so vehemently that Lena jolted back in surprise, pulling the right side of her face away from the pillow. “I’m exactly where I want to be.” Kara’s right hand grabbed Lena’s hip ensuring they were connected, bound together beyond the glittering engagement rings on either of their fingers, “Where I always want to be. By your side.”

“For now…” Lena amended.

“Forever, Lena.” Kara corrected, her blue eyes watery with pain as she reached out with trembling fingers to the right hand-side of Lena’s face marred by a deep burn covered in see-through bandages, which extended from her jaw to her forehead. “This doesn’t change anything.” Kara whispered earnestly, as her fingertips caressed Lena’s scarred cheek.

“It changes everything!” Lena seethed, jerking away from Kara’s achingly soft touch, as her eyes burned with tears of self-loathing. “I have survived this long because of two things: my wealth and my looks. We both know it's true. The money bought me protection and my good looks bought me the benefit of the doubt. Because… I’m too pretty to be a monster, right?” Lena snarled, “Well, not anymore!”

“That’s enough.”

“Why?” Lena scoffed, “It’s true, we both know it. I wonder which publications will use the word ‘grotesque’ and which will use ‘horrifying’.” Lena chuckled dark and cruelly as she suggested flippantly, “Maybe we should start a betting pool.”

“Lena, no one is going to say that.” Kara defended, “You’re a hero, you saved so many lives-”

“Of course they’re going to say it.” Lena rejected, “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But they’ll say it. Everyone will. The kind ones will look away, the cruel will jeer and the malicious will take photos for profit whilst children will cry at the sight of a Luthor that finally looks just like the monster they always wanted me to be.”

“No, they won’t-”

“Yes, they will!” 

“Lena-”

“You don’t even look at me the same!” Lena bellowed, her eyes going wide with regret the second she registered how her Kara looked like Lena had physically hit her with those words.

“Okay,” Kara exhaled slowly to keep her voice from shaking, “I think it’s my turn now.”

“Just leave already.” Lena shook her head in defeat and made to roll away from the blonde but was stopped by the gentle hand placed on her hip.

“No.” Kara refused, her tone hard as she struggled to keep herself in control, “You’ve had your chance to talk, now it's my turn. We are in a relationship and when I asked you to marry me, we made promises to each other.” Piercing blue eyes stared deep into green ones. “What were they?”

“Kara…” Lena groaned, rolling her eyes.

Kara didn’t budge, repeating her question belligerently, “What were they?”

Lena’s eyes dropped away, breathing deeply as she accepted that Kara was like a dog with a bone, she wouldn’t stop asking the question until she got the answer she wanted. 

“No lies. No secrets. We always listen.” Lena murmured weakly, closing her eyes as she was flooded with the images of them both on their knees with rings in their hands and a commitment to give each other everything they needed for a happy ending.

“And?” Kara pushed, utterly unrelenting.

Lena pursed her lips, “The others aren’t really relevant right now…”

“I don’t care.” Kara demurred, repeating, “And?”

Lena’s lips twitched upwards for the first time since she looked in a mirror that day, “The last potsticker is always yours…”

“And?” Kara prodded.

“You’ll always kiss me first thing in the morning and last thing at night.” Lena whispered, the tears finally falling as she remembered making the request on the happiest day of her life.

“And?” Kara encouraged as she wiped the tears away with the light swipe of her thumb.

“I have to eat three full meals a day.” Lena laughed, thinking of all the times Kara had brought her lunch or dragged her away from work before six to ensure Lena never broke that promise.

“And?” Kara brightened considerably at the genuine sound of joy from the raven haired women.

Lena’s expression turned tender, “We always say ‘I love you’ whenever we have to leave each other.”

“Yeah.” Kara bent forward to place a kiss on Lena’s forehead in reward for perfect recitation, “Now it’s your turn to listen, okay?”

“Okay.” Lena merely nodded in acceptance as Kara shifted her hand from Lena’s hip to interlace their fingers.

“First,” Kara started, her voice firm and clear, “your wealth and good looks is not why you survived or what earned you the benefit of the doubt. It was your intellect and your kind heart, it was those two things working in tandem that made it possible for you to beat Lex time and time again.” 

Lena's eyes flickered away,  unconvinced. That was fine, though, because Kara was warming to the subject as she always did when it came to extolling her future wife’s achievements. 

“That very first time, when you wore a wire to get evidence against him, what purpose did your wealth and looks serve?” Kara questioned, not requiring an answer before continuing, “It was your continued will to do good and be good that made it impossible for people not to trust you. It had absolutely nothing to do with your appearance and I find the assertion that it did, a very poor attempt to undermine all the tireless good work you have carried out over the years. And as an aside,” Kara paused, raising a challenging eyebrow at the raven haired woman, “you and I both know you could beat Lex without your fortune and both of your hands tied behind your back any day of the week.”

Lena merely shrugged but there was a more significant uptick to the corner of her lips now. 

“Secondly, not a single newspaper, media outlet or blog would even consider writing a single disparaging comment about you or your scar after today. If they did, I’m pretty sure every single citizen in National City would hit the streets to protest and run them out of business before the end of the day. Thirdly,” Kara squeezed their joined hands as she lifted her chin defiantly, drawing on her Supergirl attitude as she asserted, “anyone - and I mean anyone - that makes you feel uncomfortable will have to answer to me.” 

Lena looked up quickly at that, green eyes wide with shock, “Kara, you can’t-”

“I can and I will.” Kara declared, “Finally and by far the most important: I love you.”

Lena’s breath caught in her throat at those words, even now after over a year together, loving each other, it still surprised Lena to hear those three words from the woman she loved. It probably always would.

“I love you, all of you. My love is not dependent on your looks or attractiveness. I fell in love with you for a thousand and one different reasons and I swear to you Lena not a single one of them has been lost because of this.” Kara assured, stroking the side of Lena’s face, this time Lena didn’t flinch away, she leaned in to it. “Yes, I love your physical appearance but clearly not for the reasons you think. I love how your green eyes twinkle when you have a new idea. I love how you purse your lips a second before you laugh. I love how your eyes crinkle when you smile. I love how you arch an eyebrow just before you tease me. I love how you bite your lip when you think I’ve done something adorable. I love how you blink three times when you sneeze. I love how your nose scrunches when you’re confused.” Kara quirked her to the side thoughtfully, “Tell me Lena which one of those have been lost.”

Lena swallowed thickly as she answered honestly, “None.”

Kara kissed her then, sweet and ever so tender, pulling back to breathe out the contents of her heart, “Nothing has changed for me, Lena. Nothing. And it never will. Our love is not fickle. It is steady and strong. It has been built, brick by brick, by thousands of moments, actions and intimacies. It can’t be destroyed by any singular attack because it has no weak-spot and I promise you, zhao, it will withstand even the harshest of storms.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 33

Title: Help

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007, @miss-smutty, @tragiclyhip​

She stands in the sunroom; watching the activity outside as a mug of whiskey infused hot chocolate wars the palms of her hands. The chapped and flushed cheeks of Declan and Tanner; their conversation rapid and excited as they team up to bury Takota in the snow. The four year old on his back in the middle of the yard; already covered to his armpits and giggling hysterically as his brothers continue to cover him in a deep and heavy blanket of white. Addie and Brooklyn both weighed down in their bulky snow boots and layers of winter wear, lounging in the middle of a plastic sled; mittened hands wildly gesturing as they both girls bark orders at their father and oldest brother. TJ listens intently; lips pursed together and his blue eyes a striking contrast against the black of both his jacket and the beanie pulled low onto his forehead. Giving a small smirk and an incredulous shake of the head before returning to the task at hand; constructing one of several snow mounds dotting the backyard that the two girls have been using to sled down. Tyler looms over them with his hands planted firmly on his hips and a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth; seeming monstrous in size compared to his tiny charges attempting to boss him around. All long legs and torso and wide shoulders; the sleeves of a once baggy and ill fitting snowboarding jacket now tight across the back and chest and around his biceps.

He’s put on fifteen pounds in the last year alone; solid muscle concentrated solely in the upper body. It had been a struggle after the incident five years ago; finding it easy to put extra weight on, but not actually keep it there. Throwing himself into a high calorie and protein diet and a faithful and rigid workout routine; two hours in the morning, an hour and a half in the evening, six days a week. Desperate to repair his body and get some semblance of his old self back; directly tying his abilities and skills to his size and finding his confidence waning when he just couldn’t seem to make any REAL progress. It had been the one thing he could rely on for years; punishing his body in the gym and seeing legitimate results in not only his physique, but in the increasingly brutal and efficient way he could handle his opponents. So it had been a blow to his ego when recovery hadn’t gone according to plan. Setbacks with his right knee keeping him out of the gym even longer than he’d hoped, then not able to push himself like he was accustomed to once he WAS given the green light to totally commit.

It’s a hard pill to swallow; seeing yourself as nothing more than a remnant...a shell...of the person you’d been before your entire world had been turned upside down. Nathan had taken so much for him that he’d been desperate to get even the smallest bits and pieces back; relying on his body to return to normal because he knew his mind never would. It had been disheartening for both of them; Tyler’s frustration in his lack of progress turning into irritability and anger that he would unfortunately project onto the people closest to him. She had tried convincing him that he was doing much better than anyone -even the team of specialists that had first cared for him in Dhaka- had ever expected him to. Constantly pointing out that it was a marathon, not a sprint; he had years ahead of him to get to where he wanted and there was no reason to punish his body and rush things and take the risk of injuring himself even further. Pointing out time and time again that even though his life had been spared, he had been dangerously close to not only losing his leg, but quite possibly never walking again. The operation could have easily failed. The bullet shifting and severing his spinal cord before surgeons could even open him up, or even the smallest of slips while on the table causing instant paralysis.

For a few days, all of her reasonings and her explanations would be enough to see him through. His confidence uplifted and ignited; growing stronger every time she assured him that she loved him and desired him in ways that she’d never felt for anyone else before. She didn’t care what he looked like; muscles or no muscles, thin or thick. He was alive and he WAS thriving despite the negative ways he saw himself. He WAS progressing and he’d continue to do so, and shouldn’t get discouraged or feel as if he was a failure and that he never got back to where he was before. But then his brain would launch an attack against him; those cruel whispers of degradation that always seemed to overrule all of the praise and the compliments that she heaped upon him. His weakened and vulnerable mind preying on him; reminding him of all his past mistakes and the broken promises and telling him that he WAS a monster. A man who’d left his dying son because he’d been too afraid to watch his boy’s suffering and eventual demise. Who’d lied to his wife and gone back into the job at a time when she’d needed him the most; heavily pregnant with twin sons, one of them battling the odds even in utero and there being no guarantee that he’d survive once he was brought into the world. A husband that had been so afraid of being a failure as a father and a spouse that he’d sought an escape; easily slipping back into alcoholism and drug addiction as a means of coping. All the hangovers that had seen him unable to get out of bed on birthdays; missing school plays and meet the teacher nights and even forgetting his own third wedding anniversary because he’d simply been too damn drunk and stoned. His mental illness reminding him of the arguments they’d had during that time; the holes he’d punched in walls, the times he’d grabbed her by the arms or shoulders and left bruises behind, all the horrible and hurtful things that he’d said to her. The heartbreak that he’d caused her and the tears that he’d caused her to shed; kicked out of his own home when it simply became too much for her to bear and she refused to allow him and his behaviour around their three children.

Despite always being easy to love, there’s been times he hasn’t been an easy person to live with. When she’d tired of the constant battle against the ghosts and the demons of his past; feeling as if her love for him and her loyalty were simply never enough. As if it were something SHE lacked. Was she not trying hard enough? Was she not showing how much she loved him in the ways she thought she was? Was she HERSELF not enough for him? Or was she simply lacking the strength and the patience and necessary skills and knowledge to be the wife that he wanted AND needed.

Therapy had made her realize that it was -and likely never would be- about her. The guilt and the grief and the regret so powerful and all consuming that he simply couldn’t get past all of it. At least not on his own. His ferocious level of independence and stubbornness creating a wedge between them; his worries that he was burdening her and that she would see him as weak and vulnerable causing him to draw even further into himself. It wasn’t that he couldn’t trust her; he loved her with a passion and intensity that he had confessed to never feeling before, and knew that both his heart, mind, body, and LIFE were safe with her. He simply couldn’t trust himself; the fear that he wouldn’t be the man that she needed, wanted, and deserved. He was terrified of failing her and his children; not living up to their expectations causing him to seek out the old habits and vices as a form of escape.

Despite previous attempts at marriage counselling, it hadn’t been until Doctor Klein had been thrust into their lives that they began seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. They were BOTH mentally exhausted; tired or doing constant battle with the mistakes of their past and worn out from carrying so much baggage on their own. Finally someone was making the effort and taking the time to work with BOTH of them; separately and together. Forcing them to confront not only the most painful and traumatizing events during their childhoods and adult lives, but the things that they didn’t particularly like about each other. Habits that were annoying, behaviour that was impossible to look past or accept, things they would do that unknowingly and unintentionally hurt the other.

Once they were able to open up about those things, everything else seemed to come so much easier; suddenly able to create lists of the things they admired and loved most about one another, the big -and little- things that initially attracted them to each other, their shared hopes and dreams as husband and wife. Acknowledging the individual abuse and the hurt of the past had been the key to actually being able to see a bright future TOGETHER. Being able to own up to their own mistakes had been what they’d desperately needed; the courage to apologize for the times they’d wounded one another, whether intentional or not.

While it had solved their initial issues and helped make their bond and their love and respect for each other much stronger, they’d agreed to continue with the therapy. Finding it helpful in ways they’d never thought of or expected. Teaching them how to keep the lines of communication open; rationally and logically dealing with problems that arose instead of letting their tempers and feelings take over. Actually hearing what the other is saying as opposed to just listening and waiting for the chance to respond. Reminding them just being husband and wife wasn’t enough; their relationship and their bond extending far beyond spouses and two people raising children together. They had to take the time and make the effort; nurture their relationship and rediscover the magic and the romance and not just rely on lust as the foundation to further build things on. They had to acknowledge what other roles they played in each other’s lives; one other’s confidants and keeper of one another’s secrets and companions and best friends. Date nights and those walks on the beach and the conversations that accompanied them being the two things to concentrate on; taking advantage of every possible opportunity to be alone and then savouring every minute of it.

“Woo her like you’re still trying to win her. And never stop doing that,” Doctor Klein had stressed during one visit. And while they’d both laughed about it at the time, it had in fact turned out some of the best advice they’d ever been given. Tyler wholeheartedly throwing himself into the practice; enjoying spoiling her -whether it be expensive and elaborate things, or something so small and meaningful- and developing those little ideas and moments of romance that she enjoyed the most. Staying sincere with his compliments and his praises and his devotions of adoring; never failing to say ‘I love you’ before bed or every time he walked out the door. Coming up with the idea of ‘mummy and daddy’ getaways; whether it was their road trips while the kids were in school or weekends away to the long refurbished ‘cabin’ in The Kimberley, or the seven to fourteen day vacations they’d take twice a year.

The old adage ‘actions speak louder than words’ soon proved to be true. Once he began putting in real effort and showing her that she came before the business and anything to do with the job, things began to change. He became more attentive and affectionate as a husband; determined to be the man that she needed, wanted, AND deserved. Once telling her that his primary goal was to “treat her great and dick her down even better.” Wanting to be the guy that made her forget about everyone else that came before him. Determined to make sure that she would never, EVER, want anyone other than him.

She watches him now. That grin playing on his lips as Addie and Brooklyn attempt to boss him around and the way he teases them in return; their squeals and shrieks when he playfully kicks snow in their direction and they respond by lobbing handfuls at his legs. The weather is cold and crisp; turning his cheeks and the tips of his ears red. Errants flakes gather on the shoulders of his jacket and in his hair; the darker tresses and the fuller, thicker beard a striking contrast against a landscape of pure, almost blinding white. Despite the drama of the night before -both involving her mother and his confession about the worsening issues with his eyesight- he looks healthy and relaxed for the first time since returning from Cambodia. The smile he gives his two littlest girls is genuine, and she knows that behind the lenses of the simple aviator sunglasses he sports, the corners of his have crinkled in a mixture of happiness and amusement.

The presence of the shades is disheartening; the sun not big enough of a threat to cause too much of a glare off the snow. It isn’t as blinding and bothersome as normal, and the sunglasses serve as a reminder that things aren’t going as well as they seem. His eye bothering him more than he’s willing to acknowledge; trying his best to downplay the seriousness and to put on a brave and happy face for her and the kids.

****

“Big E!” Desi calls from the kitchen, nursing his own whiskey and hot chocolate combination as he tends to packing away the ridiculous amount of brunch leftovers. “We’re runnin’ out of storage options around here. And there’s a lot more to go.”

She tears herself away from the window. The longer she watches, the heavier the worry and ache in her heart become. Nothing good ever comes out of dwelling; long ago learning that all the fretting in the world never changes the present, or the outcome of a situation. But it’s a difficult and bitter pill to swallow; the person you love constantly having to struggle and fight when they deserve nothing more than physical rest and mental peace. Tyler long ago made amends. Nearly losing his life on the Sultana Kamal Bridge and the months of painful and arduous healing his repentance for past misdeeds. He’d been a different person then; haunted and broken and desperate to escape the enormous amounts of grief, regret, and self loathing that were weighing him down.

When he talks about those dark and desolate times in his life, he always mentions that he’d been too much of a coward to take his own life; chickening out of pulling the trigger himself and hoping and praying with every job he took that a sniper would do it for him. She prefers to look at it a different way. Telling him that it was strength and courage that kept him from issuing a permanent solution to a temporary problem. And that maybe...just maybe….a voice deep inside of him was telling him he needed to stick around; something or someone was out there that would come along and help ease his burdens and make him feel alive again. He always smiles when she says it; that sweet, thoughtful smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes but is testament to all the love and awe that he possesses for him. Cradling her face in his palms; thumbs grazing across the tops of her cheeks before he presses a long, lingering kiss to her forehead.

Love doesn’t always need words. Sometimes, it’s better communicated through touch. The beauty and simplicity behind each movement never failing to take her breath away.

“Lots left,” Desi laments, an arm sweeping over the island and gesturing towards the enormous spread of leftover food. “Tons. Way too much. I know you got a small army to feed, but…”

“You’d be surprised how much those kids can actually put away. Especially TJ and Declan. And I know Brookie is tall as hell and practically skin and bones, but there’s days she eats like a grown man. I just look at food and it goes straight to hips and my ass. My kids? Fast metabolisms. And they did NOT get that from me.”

“Why you complaining about your hips and your ass? They look fine to me. Not that I make it a habit of looking. Just every once in a while, I risk a peek. You got some junk in the junk, girl. And it’s all good junk.”

“Don’t be too sure it’s all good. You’ve never seen me with my clothes off.”

“Sadly, no. But it is on my bucket list.”

“Be careful what you wish for. Trust me, you’d have nightmares.” Taking a swallow of hot chocolate, she grimaces at the strength of the whiskey and then wanders into the pantry. Locating an unopened box of plastic food storage containers on the far wall, she has to climb in order to reach them; easily navigating the first two shelves and giving a tiny shriek of victory when she manages to grab a hold of the sought after items.

“I think you’re too hard on yourself,” Desi says when she rejoins him. “You’re not just all pretty little packaging. I’m sure the item itself is in damn good condition. I notice your hot as fuck as husband doesn’t have eyes for anyone else.”

“He’s the most biased man on earth and fiercely loyal. Trust me, things are a mess. And not a hot one either. I’ve had seven kids, Des. Do you know what one baby does to your body, never mind seven? Not to mention I’ve carried two inside of me. Twice. And I squeezed out a ten and a half pounder. Naturally. My hips and my vagina have never been the same. Things do not look like they used to, believe me.”

“Your husband begs to differ. I know I shouldn’t be telling tales out of school, but he’s pretty crazy about you. A damn fool in love, as my grandmother used to say. My folks were married for almost sixty years, and up until his very last day on this earth, my dad was looking at my mom like she was the most beautiful woman in the entire universe. That’s how your man looks at you. Like no other woman exists. I just mention your name or you just walk in the room and it’s all in his face; that little smile he gets, the way his eyes light up. And it’s damn beautiful. Seeing a man love his woman that much. He ain’t even afraid to show it. He doesn’t give a shit who notices it. He’s proud of it. Proud of YOU. That of all the guys in the world, you chose him.”

Smiling, she snags a knife from the butcher block and uses it to slice open the seal on the box. “I would choose him a million times over. In a million different lifetimes, in a million different ways, I’d choose him. I would find him, and I would choose him. No one else exists. Just Tyler. And no one else ever will.”

“And that’s why things work so well. Between the two of you. Neither of you give a shit about anyone else. Thirsty moms on the playground? Guys grabbing your ass at the grocery store…”

Esme smirks. “He told you about that?”

“That and the guy who followed you home from the post office.”

“Both those things happened YEARS ago. He needs to get a grip. I mean, the whole possessive thing CAN be charming, but he tends to go a little overboard. I don’t know if he’s just insanely protective or if he’s more self conscious than I realize or…”

“It’s because he loves you. It’s got nothing to do with being self conscious or protective. Maybe it has a little do with possession; you’re his wife and the mother of his kids and he sees you as his. SOLELY his. And he doesn’t like the idea of anyone or anything threatening that fact.”

“So he doesn’t trust me is what you’re saying.”

“Not what I’m saying at all, Big E. He trusts you. Trusts you with his heart, his life, his kids’ lives. He worries about what other people are capable of. Doesn’t like them getting too close to you. I think he’s got a reason to worry about stuff like that. Considering his past and all the people he’s pissed off. And let’s not pretend you’ve got the cleanest track record, you’ve burnt a lot of bridges and stepped out on a lot of toes too. Pissed off the wrong people.”

“I’ve been out of the game long enough that there’s no one looking for me. As far as a lot of them are concerned, I died on that bridge thirteen years ago. That’s what they’ve been led to believe at least.”

“I think he’s got all the reasons in the world to worry. To be as protective as he is. You’re his everything. The center of his universe. You’re precious to him. And he doesn’t want anything or anyone messing with that.”

A grin tugs at the corners of her mouth as she spoons left over frittata into one several of the containers. “Boy, you two talk a lot more than I ever realized. You know how rare that is, right? Tyler opening up like that? Especially when he’s sober. He has been, hasn’t he? Sober?”

“Of course he has. Quit that shit a long time ago. Didn’t he? Knock that off? The drinking?”

“He’s had his moments lately,” she admits. “But that’s to be expected. I mean, once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic, right? It never disappears. There’s always that threat. The temptation will always be around. You just have to hope that he doesn’t fall for it.”

“You have reason to believe he will? Fall for it?”

“He’s struggling.” It’s painful to admit out loud. And feels almost as if it’s a betrayal; talking about things that go on behind closed doors and have little to no importance in the lives of others. But it’s a heavy weight to carry; the fear and the worry and uncertainty. “With a lot of things. He’s been having a little bit of a crisis.”

Both Desi’s brows shoot up. “He’s having one or he’s IN one?”

“I don’t know, Des. I’m not entirely sure. All I DO know is that going to Laos and Cambodia was the worst thing he ever could have done. There’s things he heard when he was there that hit a little too close to home. Things involving women and children. And they bothered him a lot more than he thought they would. He’s having a hard time letting them go.”

“They set things off? With the bipolar?”

She nods. “It started the first night home. Trouble sleeping, his anxiety acting up more than usual, dwelling on things that are beyond his control and will likely never...EVER...happen. He’s having nightmares and waking up in the middle of panic attacks. And he hasn’t been THAT bad in a long time. It’s been three years since he’s had a dream about what happened the last time we were in Dhaka. Now he’s had them every night for eight days. Sometimes two or three times a night.”

“And there’s nothing that can be done? No meds he can take or…?”

“He’s taking all the meds he possibly can and still function normally. I don’t know if his body has just gotten used to them and he needs to go onto new ones or maybe he just needs higher doses of what he’s already on. And we can’t do any of that until we get home and see the doctor. So in the meantime, he struggles. And tries to fix things the only way he knows how.”

“He been drinking:?”

“He called me while he was gone. Said he drank half a bottle of Scotch. Admitted that he felt like utter shit about it, but still wanted to drink more. He didn’t think he could cope without it. Took me three hours to talk him down. To convince him NOT to get shit faced. And I reminded him; I’m not going to live with someone like that and neither are my kids. I meant what I said five years ago; he stays clean and sober or we’re gone. Believe me, that is the last thing he wants. And it’s the last thing I want. I don’t want to leave him. I don’t want to take his kids from him. I don’t want to break his heart or theirs. Or my own for that matter. But I can’t do it; I can’t live with him when he’s like that. I tried.”

“It’s a hard thing; dealing with someone with addiction issues. Saw it in my own family a couple times. They tried to get things together but it just got to be too much. Can’t help someone that isn’t willing to help themselves, know what I’m saying?”

“When he fell off the wagon in Colorado, I tried so hard to hold shit together. The kids were just little. Millie had just started pre-school and Tanner and TJ were still in the toddler stage. I hadn’t even gotten pregnant with Declan yet. He wasn’t even a twinkle in my eye. I’d had the miscarriage and Tyler held it together for the first few months afterwards and then just...I don’t know...it just went bad. So bad.”

“Probably broke him a lot more than he let on. Losing a baby like that.”

“And back then? We weren’t anywhere close to where we are now. Now we get through things together; he doesn’t shut himself down and try to handle shit on his own. We’ve learned how to communicate; logically and rationally and without freaking out and saying shit that will hurt one another. But back then? He was a mess. We BOTH were. And I thought I could live with him and his issues. I put it up with the hangovers and the drunken rages and heartbroken kids because he couldn’t get out of bed on their birthdays. Or the time he missed Christmas because he was on a four day bender in Guadalajara and couldn’t he even be bothered to answer his phone or text me back. I held in as long as I could. I guess I thought I could change him. Instead, I gave up and kicked his ass out. I won’t go through all of that again. No matter how much I love him. I just can’t.”

“Love can’t fix everything, Big E. It just can’t. And sometimes it ISN’T enough. No matter how much we want it to be.”

“And I do. I DO love him. More than I ever thought I could possibly love another human being. We’ve made seven children together and we have this incredible life in the most beautiful and perfect of places and we’re happy. HE’S happy. But…” her voice quivers with emotion. “...I can’t live like that. If he goes back to the drinking. I won’t have kids around that. I refuse. I love him, but I need to love me and my children more. And if I have to go…”

“Don’t get that far ahead of yourself. You don’t know that things are headed in that direction. People slip. It happens. And normally they slip more than once. Doesn’t mean he’s going to switch back to being the guy he used to be. He doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to be THAT guy. That’s a man that loves his family beyond all comprehension. He’s not going to fuck things up and lose everything and everyone that means something to him.”

“It just puts me on edge, you know?” Snapping the last container closed, she slides it across the granite and then turns to lean back against the edge of the countertop; arms crossed over her chest and fingers reaching up to clear wayward tears off her cheeks. “Because we’ve been through this. Not just slips, but full out train wrecks. Where he’s gone back to the drinking and the pain meds and everything just imploded. We spent six months apart. Half a year of waiting for him to get his shit together and fight for his family. And then five years ago he had a setback; booze AND pain meds. We somehow managed to get through that too. Mind you, he almost died and that put a quick end to things and we never had to actually deal with them.”

“And you’ll get through it this time,” Desi assures her. “If there IS a ‘this time’.”

“I don’t know how much more I can take. How much more I can worry and stress myself out. Because let’s face it, I’ve got my own issues and the longer I keep putting them off? What if they get past the point of being able to do anything about them? I won’t be of any use to ANYONE then, will I. My husband will suffer, my kids will suffer…”

Desi sidles up beside her, palms on the countertop behind him and one ankle crossed over the other. “Do you ever tell him about those things? The stuff that is going on with you?”

“He knows I have depression. That I most likely have PTSD. I mean, he lives with me. We’ve shared a home and a bed for the past twelve and a half years. Who’s the one that has to hold down the fort and take care of the kids when I’m too depressed to even get out of bed?”

“But does he know how bad it’s been LATELY. I’m not talking about the past. I’m talking about RIGHT NOW.”

“Trust me, it is not a good time to be talking about any of that.”

“You’re his wife. It’s always a good time.”

“Tyler can’t handle my stuff on top of his. He has limits. And I know when he shouldn’t test them. He doesn’t need my crap dumped onto him. Besides, I’m always like this at Christmas. I’m always extra neurotic and anxious and…”

Dropping his chin into his chest, Desi stares at her pointedly.

“Okay, maybe I’m not THIS extra neurotic and anxious. And yes, I’m having a rough time. And I’ve been having a rough time for a couple months now. But I’m dealing with it. I’m handling it. On my own. Tyler doesn’t need to know.”

“Esme…”

“He DOESN’T need to know,” she stresses. “And you won’t tell him. Tell me you won’t tell him. PROMISE me.”

Desi sighs. “Big E…”

“Nothing good will come of you telling him. You know what will happen? He’ll blame himself. He’ll say that he’s the reason I have the issues that I do. I know him, Des. Better than he knows himself. And he will internalize everything and he will blame himself and then all that guilt and regret will creep up and it will eat away at him. Until it makes things so much worse. Don’t do that; make things worse for him.”

He scowls. “Don’t YOU do that. Don’t guilt trip me.”

“I’m not trying to guilt you. I am trying to protect my husband. He is this close…” she holds her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “...to going into a real, legit, crisis and I do not want that happening. That’s why I am asking you...no, I’m begging you...not to tell him. Let me at least help him get his issues settled before I dump mine into his lap. That’s all I’m asking. Some time. To help him get past what’s going on with him.”

“I won’t say anything,” Desi assures her. “But you have to promise that you WILL tell him. When things get settled. Promise me that you won’t let this go. That once he’s got his issues squared away, you let him know what’s going on. Because he’s damn good at shelving his shit to take care of you. And he deserves to help YOU for a change.”

“I WILL tell him,” she promises. “I just need time. To help get through his shit. Once we’re home and he’s seen the doctor and things are figured out, I WILL talk to him.”

“Good.” Draping an arm across her shoulders, he pulls her into him; lips meeting her temple in a loud, resounding smack. “You know, for a tiny little thing? You’re strong. And fierce. So damn fierce.”

“Do you really think Tyler would have wanted me if I wasn’t? Could you honestly see him with a weak woman? Someone meek and mild and submissive?”

“Nope. He needs a woman that stands her ground. Not someone that will just bend and back down. Someone that can handle the life and everything that comes with it. Someone that can handle HIM. And you? You just hang in there and keep going. You don’t give up on him. No matter how hard he makes things sometimes.”

“I love him. And he’s worth it. All the hard work, all the tough times, all the tears, all the worry. He’s worth it. He always HAS been.”

“And not many women would have seen that. That he WAS worth it. You probably saw what no one else did. And I bet he’s damn thankful for that.”

“Most days I think he is,” she smiles. “Other days I drive him batshit insane and I’m sure he wants to strangle me. And not in the fun, sexy way either.”

A slow grin spreads across Desi’s face. “You’re into that sort of thing, huh? Little thing like you?”

“I’m into a lot of things people think I wouldn’t be into. But yeah, we indulge. A lot. In the rougher side of things.”

“How does he not break you in half? Or snap your neck? I’ve seen the size of hands. And I mean, he’s KILLED people with them..”

“He knows what he’s doing. I highly doubt he’s choking me in the same way he’s strangled bad guys. It’s a little different, Des. The technique. And I trust him. He wouldn’t do anything to put me in danger. Or anything I wasn’t comfortable with.”

“Well I know he’s good at what he does. The walls are pretty thin, you know. How do you think I knew his first name before introductions were ever made?”

A blush creeps into her cheeks and settles at the tips of her ears, and giving an embarrassed laugh, puts a hand over her face. “I can be a little...loud.”

“You don’t say. Now I have to ask, you being loud? Is that a legit thing or are you just trying to stroke his ego or…?”

“No, it’s legit. It’s as real as it gets. And not to feed into your fantasies about him, but my husband is very talented. Very skilled. In many ways. With many body parts. In almost thirteen years, I have never ONCE had to fake it with him. Before I met Tyler, I thought the g-spot and squirting were both bullshit. Oh no, they are very real. And he proved it. Those first five days were a real eye opener. I learned A LOT.”

Desi gives a slow nod of approval. “That’s my boy. I could tell you know. First time we all met. I knew just by looking at him. That that was a man who knew what he was doing. In the bedroom.”

“Bold of you to assume we keep things in the bedroom. That’s actually our least used spot.”

Frowning, he casts a glance over his shoulder. “Should I be watching where I put my hands or…?”

“You’re safe. We haven’t christened the kitchen. At least not the kitchen like it is now. But when we first bought the place? When we knew we were going to gut it and reno it and we came out for a week to figure out what we wanted to do with everything? We DEFINITELY christened it then.”

“You two are dirty, you know that?” He nudges her playfully with his elbow. “Desmond Brownell approves. So for curiosity’s sake, what’s the most used room in the house?”

“I don’t know. Back home, it’s definitely the laundry room, Tyler’s office, and the gym. If we’re talking about here, it’s a toss up; between the living room and the gym.”

“Gym I can definitely understand. Getting all hot and bothered while he’s in there doing his thing. He’s all sweaty, muscles are bulging and glistening and…” Desi sighs dreamily. “....I don’t blame you one bit.”

“I do NOT need to hear about your sexual fantasies involving my husband. I have enough of my own, believe me.”

“Yeah but you get to live yours out. Me? I get to use my imagination. And the noises you make.”

“Oh my god…” she groans, and covers her face with both hands. “...I am NEVER making noise EVER again. Tyler is going to be so disappointed. He says the noises are the biggest turn on. Lets him know he’s doing a good job. From now on, I’m just going to lie there and be very, very quiet.”

“Don’t quit on my behalf. I’m with him. It IS a turn on. I know what it does for me personally and I’m all the way next door.”

“Desi…” she laughs into her palms. “...goddamnit...I don’t need to hear this! I don’t need to know that you...you know...while Tyler and I are….you know….”

He chuckles and playfully ruffles her hair. “What are you so embarrassed about? We’re all adults here. How can you be embarrassed about THAT? Especially when you just admitted you like being choked and earlier you told me that last night you took it up the…”

“Stop! Please stop. I can’t talk about this. I shouldn’t be talking about it. Especially about that last thing. I can talk about it with him, but with other people? No. Just no.”

“What’s so wrong about talking about it? Or enjoying it? You ask me, you’re damn brave. I’ve seen him in those sweatpants. I see what he’s going on down under. And for you do THAT? Twice? No wonder you’re walking funny.”

“Oh God…” Esme laughs even harder; snorting into her palms before moving them away from her face. “...I can’t believe I’m the type of woman that enjoys that sort of thing. I swore I would never, EVER, let a man even think about it, never mind try it. And now here I am, making it a common thing.”

“A common thing? You serious right now? It’s common?”

“Almost as common as normal sex. Holy shit…” she giggles and brushes tears of amusement and embarrassment from her cheeks. “...third day into Dhaka and I was giving it up. I was letting him go where no man ever had gone before.”

“Only three days in? What…?”

“I actually ASKED him to do it. I have no self control when it comes to him. I never have. I wanted to text him for a booty call the first night I met him. I almost banged him before we even got right into Dhaka. What’s happened to me? How did I become this person? How did I go from little to no sexual experience to this?”

“You got really good dick is what happened to you. Still as good as it was back then?”

“Still as good. If not better. He’s like a fine wine; gets better with age. Do NOT tell him we talked about this. He won’t be embarrassed, but he will be insanely proud of himself and it will feed his ego and I’ll never hear the end of it. Especially the butt stuff. He will use that against me and I will never, ever, walk right again.”

“Your secret's safe with me,” Desi assures her. “It’s true; the little ones are the kinkiest and dirty ones.”

“Holy shit…” she reaches for her long abandoned mug of hot chocolate and downs the remains. “...it feels good to laugh like this. To talk about things like this for a change. Can you believe we’ve been like this since day one? Just constantly horny for each other? What is wrong with us?”

“Nothing. You’re both damn lucky as far as I’m concerned. Almost thirteen years and still lusting after each other like that? That’s a good sign. You know that, right?”

She nods. “He’s amazing. And not just in that way. In EVERY way. He’s my heart.”

“Does a number on your loins too, apparently,” Desi teases.

“He’s just...I don’t know....he’s just my whole world. None of this...my children, an incredible life here and in Australia...wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for him. Everything changed when I met Tyler. I changed. I became a whole different person. I’m stronger and more resilient and I’m happy. And I hadn’t been happy in a hell of a long time. So when he struggles and I can’t help him or fix things…” she sighs and tucks her hair behind her ears. “...I feel lost. I feel helpless. Because I want it to be enough; how much I love him. And I know it isn’t. That it doesn’t work that way.”

“He’s going to be alright,” Desi assures her. “He’s made of tough stuff. He’s gotten through worse. A HELL of a lot worse.”

“He has. And that’s what I keep reminding myself. What he HAS been through and how far he HAS come. Because as strong and resilient as I am? I don’t want to do this life without him. HE IS this life. And if suddenly he wasn’t here any more…”

“Let’s not even go that way.” He tightens his hold on her and draws her into his side, a palm squeezing her shoulder. “Nothing good will come of going there.”

“He has to be okay. I NEED him to be okay. And I’ll do whatever it takes to help him get there..”

“Sometimes that means helping yourself too, you know. Helping him means getting YOUR shit taken care of. So you CAN help him. Am I making any sense?”

She nods.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Big E,” he drops a kiss on the top of her head. “There’s NOTHING you guys can’t through.”

[my-arlington-academia]

Serandy and Olifael part 3: Nari’s horrible return

Hey I’m back! ... I’m sorry.

-------------------

"S-Serena-senpai..."

Nari was looking away, her cheeks flushed from embarrassment. No matter how many steps back she took, Serena kept on getting closer and closer until she slammed her hand on the wall, next to Nari’s ear.

”Kyah! S-senpai! What’s going on?? Why are you being so violent with me?”

From Serena’s point of view this wasn’t violence. This was love. Oh Nari... you and your unstoppable mouth. No matter how much someone would beg, Nari would never shut up. Serena was provoked by that, the fact that someone wouldn’t obey her orders. It was frustrating and yet so charming.

She leaned in and whispered into Nari’s ear.

"Nari-chan... you aren’t a gemini, are you?”

Nari was confused, that’s it? That’s all Serena wanted to ask? No scolding, no punishment like usual? She was disappointed. Nari loved getting yelled at by Serena.

”N-no. I’m not a gemini, I’m a scorpio Senpai. But what does that have to do with anyth-"

"Shut it.”

Serena passionately kissed Nari with her passionate lips, passionate love and passionate hate towards geminis. She was so relieved that Nari wasn’t one of them. Disgusting. That would be horrible.

Horrible.

Hor-

"AAAH! NOOOO PLEASE GOD NO!"

Serena woke up covered in sweat. What the fuck was that?? Nari? What was she doing in Serena’s dream and why were they calling eachother like characters in a Japanese cartoon? Serena looked around her, it was her room. Thank God everything was just a dream and nothing else. Next to her, lying in bed was Andy who snuck in last night to sleep next to her girlfriend. Like all nights, actually. She was really worried for Serena’s mental state, not only today but in general.

"Serena...? *yawn* Are you okay sweetie?”

Serena hugged Andy, almost in tears.

"N-no! I saw her again in my dreams. That chatterbox monster, Nari! But this time we were high schoolers in a shitty anime... Why? Oh, why would this happen to me?? What did I do wrong for her to come back to haunt me?"

Andy hugged Serena back, trying to be as supportive as she could. This situation was really strange. For the past few days, Serena always saw Nari in her dreams. Nari was that 2nd year student in Arlington who went missing a few months ago. But in actuality... it was all a ploy orchestrated by Serena. Serena had pulled some strings to make some trouble happen in Egypt so that Nari would go back there for a couple of months. A couple of months that were extremely peaceful... Well, Trashy burned the building a couple of times but it was cool. Thanks to that some classes were canceled and Serena secretly thanked Trashy for her interventions.

The only people who knew about this were Serena and Andy, Serena knew that if she told Olivier what she did in order to get rid of Nari, he would get mad at her and rightfully so.

”Calm down Serena sssshhh. It’s going to be alright. Um... you know I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, but could it be that you have a guilty conscience? Maybe that’s why Nari appears in your dreams?”

Serena looked up at Andy, seriously taking in account what her girlfriend just told her. But no, that couldn’t be it. Serena? Feeling guilt for getting rid of Nari? Impossible. Nari was her arch-nemesis. It was absurd to think that after all these months Serena would suddenly start to feel guilty about her scheme.

”No... that can’t be it Andy. I would never feel bad for Nari. I think.”

”Aww come on, I know that you’re not as cold hearted as you pretend to be. Let’s just try to contact Nari, okay? Maybe you actually miss her a little bit.”

Did Serena miss Nari? Ridiculous but much more believable than feeling guilty.

"... Alright. Let’s do that."

Serena and Andy came down from the bed, they were changing into their school uniforms to get ready for class. That’s when someone barged in, looking extremely distraught. It was Rafael.

"Girls!!! Come quick! There’s 8 murde-"

Serena threw a pillow into Ralf’s face while Andy was covering herself with the blanket. Serena yelled at him in panic.

"What the hell Rafael? Can’t you knock first?? Turn around and explain yourself!”

Rafael turned around like instructed, facing the door. He was super gay for Olivier but he still covered his face with the pillow, just in case. He didn’t want Serena and Andy to feel uncomfortable.

"This is not important right now! There’s 8 murders in the Academy that ocurred this morning...”

Andy and Serena looked at eachother, horrified by the news. How was that possible? The security was so tight and the custodians always made rounds, even in the early mornings. Andy clenched her fists, still in disbelief.

”But... that’s impossible! One murder, sure. But 8 people have died?? There’s always guards in front of the entrance... and... and there’s at least one custodian on each floor to keep an eye on us!"

Rafael stood there, silent. Unable to explain the events. All he could say was...

”Oliver is waiting for us in the student council’s room. Come quick.”

There was no time to waste. Serena and Andy dashed out of their room and went out of the dormitory only to see a cruel scene unfold. A bunch of nurses were taking 8 people away into ambulance trucks. However, the 8 people were covered in white pieces of cloth. As if they were already dead. In the crowd, a blond girl with a pink flower in her braids was being retained by at least four people. They were trying to hold her still while she was screaming and shouting like a trapped animal.

"G-geez! How strong is this girl?! Someone call the remaining custodians to help us out! We can’t hold her forever!!!”

”Remaining custodians”? So, some of them had been killed as well? Or at least badly hurt. Andy and Serena tried to pass by the scene in a hurry but they couldn’t ignore the yells of the suffering young girl. Oh mother of god... It was the sweet and gentle Claire, trying to set herself free by punching and kicking.

"LET ME GO! I HAVE TO FOLLOW THEM AND MAKE SURE THAT THEY'RE OKAY!!! DON’T HOLD ME BACK!!! THIS CAN’T BE. THEY’RE NOT DEAD!!! THEY’RE NOT DEAD, OKAY?! STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE I’M CRAZY!!! I... I...”

Suddenly all of her strength left her body and she fell down on her knees, seeing that she finally calmed down the 4 students that were holding her let go of their grip. Claire buried her face into her hands, crying.

"N-No... they’re not d-dead... the doctors will bring them back with a b-blood transfusion and... and... CPR will definitely work... if, if not then there’s also a defibrillator... it’ll work haha... ah... ah... ahh..."

She started hyperventilating, her eyes were bloodshot and her hair and clothes were all messy. She then covered her mouth, trying to stop what was coming, in vain.

”BLRGH.”

She threw up on the ground, still hyperventilating in between each spew. Because of that she was almost unable of breathing. Two custodians ran to her, scared of her reaction. What if she chokes up and dies because of her own vomit?

"P-please! Young miss calm down! Breath in... and out... in... and out... yes, slowly.”

Thank god her breathing became stable again, she could’ve lost consciousness from the lack of oxygen. After emptying up her stomach she started crying in the custodian’s arms.

"T-those people w-were my friends... *hic* R-raquel was right next to me... *hic* how did I fail to do anything?! ...U-useless! I’M USELESS. W-when it comes down to real danger... I’m unable to do a-anything. I couldn’t save anyone... I’ve never saved anyone! Not a single person!”

Andy didn’t even realize that she was crying at the heartbreaking scene until Serena covered her eyes and pulled her away from the crowd.

"Andy, don’t look...”

It was meaningless, Andy was unable to see anything anyway. Her eyes were filled up with tears, distorting her vision. However there was one thing she knew. Even though Serena was trying to hide it and act though, she was crying too.

In front of the student council’s room, they dried up their tears and snot with their sleeves, no time to find handkerchiefs. And they stepped in. Four people were in the room, Olivier shouting at Trashy, Trashy looking scared out of her mind but doing her best to deny whatever Olivier was stating, Rafael trying to calm Olivier down and... Tadashi, sat on one of the chairs. Looking down, emotionless. It’s as if all trace of life had left his body.

Serena tried to ignore that for now and put her hand on Olivier’s shoulder, he turned away from Trashy and looked at Serena, annoyed and angry.

"Ugh. You’re finally here?! What took you so lo-"

Before he could finish, Serena slapped the shit out of him, knowing that he wouldn’t calm down anytime soon if this went on.

"Calm down! I can see that Tadashi isn’t capable of handling anything right now so you should try to stay calm and take over as the student council president! It won’t help if you lose yourself like this...”

She then looked at Rafael, who was frozen in panic.

"Ralf, next time something like this happens just hit the shit outta him without hesitation. Got it?”

”Y-yes, sorry. I’ll do so.”

Olivier looked at his reflexion in the window and sighed a few times. He still wore that stupid cat mask. Then with a clear mind, he went back to business.

"Trashy. Please be honest with me. You’re the one who committed those murders, aren’t you?”

Trashy was shaking, teary eyed and visibly afraid by not only Olivier but also the stressful situation she was in.

"N-no! I’m telling you I would never kill people in cold blood! I only do harmless pranks...”

Olivier clenched his jaw. ”Harmless pranks” she says. He opened a folder and took out a document from it.

"Trashy. So far you have committed: arson, fraud, larceny and forgery. So tell me what could POSSIBLY lead me to believe that you aren’t the culprit behind this... this... inhumane incident?”

Trashy stood up, slamming her hand unto the table.

”I’m telling you: I’m innocent! I would never kill E-Ellie, Alistair or any other person of this school!"

At those words, Tadashi who was silent this whole time started sobbing and holding his arms, as if he was hugging himself.

”N-no... Ellie... Alistair... Raquel... *sob* Please c-come back. I-I’m scared... *hic* I-I’ll be good so p-please don’t abandon me *hic* A-Axel I-I won’t give you detention ever again... and... and I-I’ll help you guys with your homework... *hic*"

Rafael, Serena and Andy rushed in to hug him, seeing that he was in despair. Olivier sighed and glared at Trashy.

"I told you not to mention their names. He gets like that whenever he hears it.”

”I’m so sorry...”

Trashy looked extremely apologetic. As Serena was holding Tadashi in her arms, she shot a quick side-glance towards Trashy, it’s true that she was very chaotic but... logic aside, proof aside, was Trashy really capable of doing such things? Serena wanted to believe in her so badly but it is true that she was quite suspicious. As she was asking herself hundreds of questions, two people barged in.

"Excuse us.”

A weird man dressed in all black, carrying a katana and... a normal woman were standing before them. Olivier walked towards them, as if he knew who they were.

”Are you... who I think you are?”

The man and woman smiled at eachother.

”That’s right, I’m Nadir. The detective.”

”And I’m Gen, the coroner. Nice to meet you.”

Nadir had a Maryland accent... whatever that was supposed to mean. He didn’t look like a detective at all though, why was he carrying a katana? And why was there a coroner with him? All the dead bodies were brought to the hospital already. Well, they might get resurrected somehow. It’s not like hope was completely lost. Or at least Andy hoped so.

”Um. Excuse me uh. Gen? I don’t understand why you’re here and not at the hospital, I mean your job is to check wounds and find the cause of death, right?”

Gen smiled innocently.

”Oh I’ve already done my job, it was all stab wounds from a kitchen knife. Now I’m here in any case we find other dead bodies or if someone else dies.”

”Uh... okay.”

Tadashi suddenly stopped crying, awakened from his miserable state by Gen’s comment.

"DON’T SAY THAT! How... How DARE you just call them ”dead bodies”?! They were my friends! And... and they might be saved!!!”

Gen looked at him with sorrow in her eyes. As if it was too late. Thankfully Tadashi was so angry that he didn’t notice that. She had a look that said ”it’s hopeless kid.” Serena tried to change the subject, knowing that Tadashi would blow up like Claire if he knew that they were already dead.

”Soooo... Anyway, who are the people that got hurt?”

Olivier gave her the list with the names of all the victims, knowing that if he said their names aloud, Tadashi would lose it again. As expected, all of Tadashi’s and Claire’s friends were on it. Neha Rao, Tyler Williams, the Novakova siblings and so on and so forth. They were all so close and yet the only people left were Tadashi and Claire... but why did only those 2 survive?

”You’re all thinking ”why did those 2 survive”, aren’t you?”

Nadir smirked at them with a know-it-all epxression that everyone hated. It seems like he had already made some research before coming.

”Well, we’re thinking that it must be because... either one of those 2 is the culprit or... the person who attacked their friends didn’t manage to finish their job and he’s after them.”

Everyone was frightened by the thought... Claire, where was she? Hopefully she wasn’t left alone, however, just in case they should go find her and stay by her side. What if the culprit took advantage of her mental state to strike? The only person in the room who didn’t think about that possibility was Tadashi, he was too blinded by anger and fright.

”You’re saying that either me or Claire could be the culprits? That’s total BULLSHIT! We would never even THINK about doing something like this! How could I... How could I ever do something like this to my best friend and boyfriend?!!”

That’s right, Tadashi’s best friend: Alistair. And his boyfriend... Axel. A really weird couple indeed, they hated eachother’s guts until really recently so why did they suddenly start dating? It was a complete mystery. It all started on april fool’s so everyone just assumed that they would end the joke pretty soon... 3 weeks later and the joke still wasn’t over.

Gen raised her voice, desperately trying to stop him from punching them in the face.

”Please calm down kid! We’re only stating the possibilities! Not saying that they’re true... but while it might not be you nor your friend, there is a high chance that the kill- um, culprit is a student. Even though some custodians were... hurt, no guards were harmed.”

Nadir nodded, strongly agreeing with his colleague’s words.

”That’s right. But first let’s go find that Claire girl, she might be in great danger at this rate. Do you know where she is?”

Tadashi shook his head, having no idea where the only friend he had left was. Luckily, Andy and Serena knew where she might be. They all ran to the nurse’s office, thinking that they would find an unconscious Claire who had probably collapsed from shock and stress. But she wasn’t there. Only the nurse remained, saying that Claire wanted to rest in her room. Serena grabbed the nurse by the shoulders and shook him violently.

”Are you kidding?! How could you let her alone in a situation like this?! Are you not aware of what’s happening right now?! And besides... isn’t Claire’s room... tainted in blood right now?!!”

The nurse pushed Serena away, slightly upset by her outburst.

”Who do you think we are? The room had been investigated and cleaned the moment the body was discovered. Also, she wasn’t alone. There was another student with her who promised me to follow her no matter where she went.”

Serena’s eyes widened. Oh god. Oh no. What if this student is the killer?! Catching on what she was thinking, Nadir grabbed the nurse by his shoulders and shook him just like Serena did earlier.

”Who was it?! Who was that student?”

”Ugh. Could you all stop grabbing and shaking me?! I don’t know what her name was but it was a girl with really messy hair. To the point where I would guess that she doesn’t even own a hairbrush.”

They all started running towards the dormitory while the nurse was cursing them under his breath. On their way there, they saw two students in the courtyard, on the ground. One covered in blood and the other one holding her in her arms while crying. It was Reckless and AJ.

”AJ!! Please wake up! Come on you gotta live... You still haven’t paid me for the tarot reading I did for you the other day!!”

AJ was still half-conscious, holding on to dear life.

”God... shut the fuck up...”

”No, don’t say that AJ!! What if those are your last words?! You can’t let your last words be something so vulgar! What am I gonna say to your parents...”

”I don’t... give a shit...”

Gen pushed Reckless away, looking closely at the young girl’s wounds all over her stomach. Reckless wiped a tear away, relieved.

”Oh thank God, thank you doctor! Please save my cash-cow- I mean... my dear classmate!”

Gen then immediately got up, wiping her bloody hands on her jeans.

”Oh no kid, I’m not a doctor, I’m a coroner. All I can say is that she has most likely 5 minutes left to live or so. Sorry but to be saved, she would need to be a billionaire or something. Y’know how it is in America.”

Reckless started crying again.

”God I fucking hate capitalism. Can we all just die from a nuclear bomb, please? Someone nuke us, anyone. Even North Korea is fine...”

Andy took out her phone, calling the ambulance in a hurry. Serena had never seen her girlfriend look so livid.

”Are you all crazy?! We should at least call the ambulance in situations like these! Reckless, why didn’t you call 911 sooner?!”

Reckless kneeled in front of AJ, looking apologetic while still bawling her eyes out.

”You’re right Andy... I’m so sorry AJ, if only I wasn’t a dumbass... Come on, don’t lose consciousness! Or at least tell me your blood type before you do! Maybe we can still save you...”

”B... positive...”

”*sniff* I’m trying AJ but you’re losing a lot of blood...”

”That’s not... *cough* what I meant... you fucking dumbass *cough*"

This all looked like a comedy skit to be honest. AJ’s blood type wasn’t even B, it was O. Was she so out of it that she made a mistake? Serena went through 8 stages of whiplash before the ambulance finally showed their asses on the murder scene. Unfortunately, AJ hadn’t seen her attacker and same thing for Reckless. In any case it was useless to stay there, the group rushed back to the dorms like they were supposed to a long time ago before they found AJ dying. Hopefully Claire was still okay... It was like running a marathon. Arlington was way too big than it needed to be.

[afterthelastreset]

Kris’s Soul Theories

Ok. So I was talking with my pal @makiswak about these and thought I’d share them here. These are just possible theories I came up with while rewatching the playthroughs of Deltarune and that scene of Kris ripping their soul out. So I thought of these to help maybe explain it. Hope you all like it.

Theory 1: KRIS IS POSESSED BY SOMETHING

The red soul is something else and something is posessing Kris. Before you all go out and point at Chara, Chara wasn’t ever really a bad person (watch the theories about it on youtube) so Chara wouldn’t posess someone. Plus we’ve never seen Chara posess someone cannically so- Plus there’s no WAY it could be Chara for 2 specific reasons.  

 1. This is a separate au from Undertale and the two games are two separate cannons as stated by Toby Fox  

2. Asriel ain't dead so Chara is probably alive and well somewhere too, college aged since in Undertale they were the same age, and it seems everyone is their cannon age here

But ghosts ARE a real thing in undertale like Napstablook and we see a house similar to his house in town so maybe Kris Is being posessed by a evil ghost monster. And before someone suggest Frisk it couldn’t be either. Frisk was WAY younger than Chara or Asriel might’ve been and the only way Asriel was the same age as them in Undertale was because he was dead and an ageless flower for so long, and when he was brought back he reverted back to the age he was when he died. Everyone seems to be the same age they are as they were in Undertale. So Cannoncally if we’re calculating the numbers right, Frisk would be alive and younger than Asriel possibly even younger than Kris. So they’re not an option either, and Frisk was never shown with red eyes or a knife in game.

Theory 2: THE SOUL IS THE PLAYER

 The soul is the player is probably the most obvious and likely but I’ll  include it too just to be fair. So this one’s pretty basic. What is it’s US that’s possesing Kris and Kris is just rejecting the player’s control over them? It wouldn’t be the first time we got a fourth wall break. Remember in Undertale when Sans winked at us when he made the joke when Papyrus first appeared? And it didn’t seem like Kris was ever a cruel or dangerous person? Sure he scared Noelle by hiding under her bed but that sounds like something kids typically do. Scare their friends as pranks whether by hiding under the bed or jumping from around a corner. What if Kris only has the knife to defend himself? Because like everyone says in the game, Kris is a quiet kid but he never hurt anyone. Even in the 'genocide' run of the game no one dies. So what if Kris is holding back from the player's commands and shows us a his scary face as a warning? Because he doesn't want to hurt anyone.

Theory 3: THE WHOLE THING IS JUST A METAPHOR

Yep! What if Kris ISNT really ripping out their soul and what we see is just Toby Fox animating out what Kris is eternally feeling inside? It isn’t that too far of a stretch. This is Toby Fox who made Undertale, a game where a skeleton broke the fourth wall once, a ghost who possesses a robot, and talking goat’s who want to adopt you. And in undertale Toby included two meanings of ‘Love’. The love you gain in the pacifist route and L.O.V(Level of violence) for the genocide. And Sans uses all kinds of metaphors, jokes, and puns to refer to things. Why would it be too far a stretch that what we see isn’t actually happening and just symbolism to how Kris is feeling inside? 

What if the soul IS Kris's soul, but he’s not ACTUALLY pulling it out and it’s what he’s feeling? You know what a soul looks like? YEP!! A HEART!! His ‘soul’ could be representing his heart. There’s things call heartache and heartbreak. And this kid has a LOT to be heartbroken over. He was adopted so he’s probably already feeling lost not knowing what his real family’s like, he’s the only human in a town of monsters, his adopted parents are divorced, his brother's not home anymore, and he has no friends outside maybe Noelle except when he meets Susie and the dark world gang. 

What if Kris pulling out his soul out of his chest symbolizes his escape from all the hurtful emotions he's feeling? What if he's not REALLY ripping out his soul and what we see is just what Kris FEELS like is happening? He feels his 'heart being ripped from his chest'(which is already a real metaphor) and the red eyes and knife could just be metaphors too. Like the red eyes could just mean he's angry and the knife could just mean he feels like he has to defend himself from everyone because of what he's going through. Well what about his crazy smile and his trapped soul in the cage? Well his smile could symbolize him always smiling away the pain he’s feeling, and the cage could symbolize all the hope and love he wants to feel is buried deep down trapped in this cage he feels himself trapped in.

And if you point out the cage and the wagon is always in the game, it could be just a symbol throughout the game. Like maybe Kris feels constantly trapped by his emotions and doesn’t know how to stop carrying it around with him hence the wagon. Because he might feel like he’s dragging his caged weight with him everywhere. And the other thing’s that happen in the animation. Kris looking like he’s being throw outta bed and being forced to throw his soul out like a puppet. Perhaps it symbolizes that Kris feels he has to force himself to do this, to force himself against his better judgement to cage these emotions so avoid anymore pain?

Maybe Im looking to far into this but with Toby Fox anything is possible.

Theory 4: IT’S ALL JUST A NIGHTMARE

Kinda an extension of my third theory but hey, like I said with Toby Fox anything is possible here so us seeing Kris’s nightmare isn’t too far a stretch too.

So here me out. The animation with the soul shows us nighttime with Kris in bed before the soul ripping out thing even happens so what if Kris is having a night mare and in this nightmare, he’s reliving through all the emotions and trauma he’s experiencing? Just some more possible symbolism here, but the part where Kris falls out of bed could possible symbolize that this dream has happened before since’s he’s eerily silent. Maybe he’s had this dream so many times to be barely affected anymore. If so then poor Kris. Again this one doesn’t hold up as much as the other three do but it’s one regardless.

Theory 5: THIS IS JUST A PREVEIW

The whole game’s not done so maybe the end of the first chapter is just a small preview of what WILL happen but HASN’T yet. After all in some games like Bendy And The Ink Machine after every chapter it showed a small preview of what’s to come for the next one. Perhaps Toby was just showing us what was to happen in later chapters to come? 

Well these are my five theories of what’s actually going on in that one scene. Tell me what you guys think of all this?

[animebw]

Binge-Reading: Fate/Stay Night VN, UBW Route Day 12

In which Caster gets introspective, Ilya gets wrecked, and Shirou gains some new perspective on his old flaw.

Stopping Point: Burying Ilya

Lost and Found

It’s easy to think of Caster as a simple monster. Hell, considering all the damage she’s caused, she probably deserves the designation. But if there’s anyone who deserves to be this vengeful towards other human lives? Medea would probably qualify. Lest we forget, this lady from ancient Greek myths was given an absolutely raw deal, and history spent the next couple millennia blaming her for lashing out at the people who hurt her. She was a witch not of her own choosing, but because it was a convenient excuse for everyone to blame all their misfortune on. There’s a particularly raw line in her reflections: ”People demand easily understandable evils to remind themselves of their own goodness.” That sentiment explains so much of the cruel acts humanity has committed across all eras of history. Medea was called a witch, so why not play the part and turn humanity’s evil back in its face? It’s no wonder she takes so much pleasure in the havoc she wreaks.

But it also makes her relationship with Kuzuki so fascinating; here, at last, is another person who just treats her... normally. He’s a blank enough slate, with so few personal desires, that he has no problem following her lead without too much pushback. How long has it been since Caster’s had someone she can trust, do you think? Who expects nothing of her but the person she is? She outright slaughtered her first master to try and gain freedom; that’s how little she trusted him to have her interests at heart. And the price for that freedom would’ve been vanishing all over again if Kuzuki hadn’t shown up at the perfect moment. She probably lost all hope that she would ever not be alone again, and it almost destroyed her. But it turns out, the only way to escape her eternal isolation was with a guy who literally has no other desires but to help her. I don’t know if that’s touching or absolutely heartbreaking. Maybe a little of both. In this fucked-up situation, her only source of comfort is someone who is, on some level, incapable of having a balanced relationship with her. And a lifetime of pain leaves her no hope of things ever getting better than this.

White Snow

But whatever Caster’s suffered, even that is nothing compared to Ilya. Abandoned by her father, raised as a living vessel, arrested in her youth before she could ever develop a sense of her own humanity. She had no one to rely on, and it made her just as ruthless as the people shaping her. No one, that is, until the Eizenberns summoned Berserker. In the absence of any support system, this mad warrior became Ilya’s one source of comfort. The being whose very movement caused Ilya pain became her one tether to the world outside her lonely skin. In that small, cold castle, he was the only one she talked to. And no matter how deep his madness latched its claws into him, he never lost sight of her. He never lost sight of the girl who relied on him, the girl he protected, the girl who chose him to be her Something when she was fated to have nothing. Underneath his mad exterior, Heracles remained every bit the heroic spirit he was called to be for her sake.

And he carried out that mission until the very end.

I still remember how much it hurt to see Ilya die the first time I watched the UBW anime. She’d gone through so much, been stuck with the absolute worst lot in life, and what little chance she has left is violently ripped away before she can seize it. In truth, I think the anime’s version of her death is honestly better; the added context of Fate/Zero’s connections to the adaptation re:Kiritsugu provides even more heartbreaking context, and the music that plays over her death in the VN is... weirdly Christmas-y? I know her whole deal is being in a white forest, but it literally sounds like there are carolers down the street spreading merry tidings as Gilgamesh rips her heart out of her chest (”No, he made it miss.” That... is the most evil detail ever.) But even then... god, what a way to go. Berserker knows he can’t beat Gilgamesh, but he fights the bastard to his final breath, using his body as a shield to protect the person who matters most. This colossus of a man, who’s been shown over and over again to be the most physically powerful fighter in this game by a country mile, goes down in a blaze of glory, using every last ounce of his strength to extend Ilya’s final moments just a little bit longer. And in her slow demise, Ilya holds fast to the person who’s always protected her, even after all this time. After everything she’s suffered and all the loneliness she’s been forced to bear, Ilya dies by the side of the one person who never let her go.

She dies knowing that someone, somewhere, somehow, cared about her.

Rest easy, Ilya. You don’t have to be cold anymore.

A Face in the Fire

Safe to say, Ilya’s death is massive. It’s brutal, it’s unforgiving, and it tears a scar right through the fabric of the story. And it forces Shirou to confront his uncertainty over the path he’s walking all over again. He doesn’t know Ilya. He had no interactions with her in this route. This girl is completely unrelated to him (as far as he knows). And he was still entirely ready to die a pointless death fighting to avenge her. Seeing Gilgamesh slaughter her pissed him off so much that his body straight-up refused to run away. If Rin hadn’t stepped in to threaten Shinji and give Gilgamesh a reason to retreat (and drag him endlessly of course: ”Don’t you realize by now you don’t have the talent to be a magus?”), Shirou would be dead. And he knows it. When Shinji tries to threaten him by telling him he’s about to die, Shinji thinks, “Why say something so obvious?” It didn’t matter that his life was on the line. It only mattered that Ilya didn’t deserve to die that way. As he puts it, his self lost its self that infernal day ten years ago. Emiya Shirou might have survived, but some part of him perished in those flames. And in its absence, Kiritsugu’s earnest face took root, staring at him with pleading eyes and begging him to live. A face that Shirou would try to emulate by becoming a superhero, wanting to inspire that same hope in others with no regard for himself.

But that’s not entirely accurate.

And as always, it takes an observation from Rin to knock some sense into this idiot.

For all Shirou’s desire to help everyone else out and not worry about his own needs, he’s still incredibly self-conscious. He has such strong personal conviction, and he stays true to his ideals because he truly believes in them. If he were merely a slave to doing good, he would just do good whenever the opportunity arose. He wouldn’t be so emphatic about it, and he wouldn’t get so pissed at people like Archer and Gilgamesh follow their own paths. That proves that somewhere deep down, Shirou does take his self-interest into account. Part of him does try to do right by himself. It’s just for the sake of moral fulfillment over emotional, mental or physical fulfillment. And that tension of pursuing the things he believes in while neglecting all his other needs is breaking him. He tries to live his life as if everyone else is more important than he is, but he’s still too human to be able to escape the needs of caring for himself as well. He wants to be someone who’s there to save people just like Kiritsugu, but he spent so much time marveling over the fact that someone was there to save him that he forgot the other side of that fact: he was saved. The person he’s trying to emulate explicitly chose to protect Shirou’s needs in a way that Shirou himself has never done. Kiritsugu’s actions said that Shirou’s life was worth living. So if Shirou really wants to honor his adopted father, why not take Rin’s advice and make the most of the life he saved? Why not have fun to offset the hell he’s suffered? It’s not like he’s gonna be any less burdened by his personal needs whether he acknowledges them or not.

But for now, the fight goes on. And even if Shirou knows he’s walking the wrong path, he won’t regret believing in it in the first place. Because there’s no way wanting to help people is a mistake, however flawed his methodology was. And if he can conquer himself enough to make the world a better place? Then perhaps his crooked progress was worth something after all.

Odds and Ends

-”They had sex before the Bhudda.” Welp.

-”Even if I’m walking down the wrong path, I won’t regret believing in it.” Because at least you’re still fighting for the right reasons.

-”It looks so wrong, and yet so right.” The power of megane.

-”I guess there’s personal differences on that alarm.” oh my god I’m cackling

-”I had hopes for a fellow demigod, but it seems you’re no match for me.” God, what a shit.

-Lol, he’s not even looking at Shinji. Get rekt, insignificant prick.

We’re in the thick of it now, folks. See you next time!

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

She-who-fights-and-writes Top 5 Book Recs 2019!!

Here are my top five books/book series that I think EVERYONE should read or at least try to read in their lifetime!! No matter their standing on this list, I love every single one of these books with my whole heart!!!!!

5. Pet Sematary by Stephen King (Genre: Horror)

Back cover:

When Dr. Louis Creed takes a new job and moves his family to the idyllic rural town of Ludlow, Maine, this new beginning seems too good to be true. Despite Ludlow’s tranquility, an undercurrent of danger exists here. Those trucks on the road outside the Creed’s beautiful old home travel by just a little too quickly, for one thing…as is evidenced by the makeshift graveyard in the nearby woods where generations of children have buried their beloved pets. Then there are the warnings to Louis both real and from the depths of his nightmares that he should not venture beyond the borders of this little graveyard where another burial ground lures with seductive promises and ungodly temptations. A blood-chilling truth is hidden there—one more terrifying than death itself, and hideously more powerful. As Louis is about to discover for himself sometimes, dead is better…

I didn’t sleep for two days after finishing this book. I had to read it in the morning, never at night, and couldn’t put it down whenever I picked it up. However, this book is really a testament to Stephen King’s reputation as the dominator of the horror/suspense genre of fiction.

Beautifully descriptive and creepy, it gives a shocking new perspective of the consequences of playing God. With a very much flawed and very much human main character, along with a gripping story that raises the hairs on the back of your neck, Pet Semetary is the perfect book to read when you’re feeling a flare for the supernatural. 

4. The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer (Genre: Sci-Fi)

Back cover of Cinder:

CINDER, a gifted mechanic in New Beijing, is also a cyborg. She's reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister's sudden illness. But when her life becomes entwined with the handsome Prince Kai's, she finds herself at the centre of a violent struggle between the desires of an evil queen - and a dangerous temptation. Cinder is caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal. Now she must uncover secrets about her mysterious past in order to protect Earth's future. This is not the fairytale you remember. But it's one you won't forget.

These books broke me out of a serious book hangover (caused by the #1 series on this list) and made me realize “Wait, there are other books in this world that can be enjoyed besides this series.”

Funny and captivating, this book puts an interesting twist on classic fairytales. Instead of being the kind of twist where everything is unnecessarily gory and dark, this puts a futuristic spin on the classic stories that we all know and love.

The characters are amazing and very diverse, and although the stories are similar to the Grimm’s fairy tales, they’re a whole new ballpark plot-wise that keeps you on the edge of your seat!

3. In Order to Live by Yeonmi Park (Genre: Memoir)

Back cover:

“I am most grateful for two things: that I was born in North Korea, and that I escaped from North Korea.”

Still in her early twenties, Yeonmi Park has lived through experiences that few people of any age will ever know--and from which most would never recover. At age thirteen, together with her mother, she made a harrowing escape from brutal conditions in North Korea. Two years later, they reached South Korea and freedom. But the devestating journey in between cost Park her childhood and nearly her life. As she writes, “I convinced myself that a lot of what I had experienced never happened. I taught myself to forget the rest.”

In In Order to Live, Park sines light not just into the darkest corners of life in North Korea, describing the deprivation and deception she endured and that millions of North Korean people continue to endure to this day, but also onto her own most painful and difficult memories. She tells with bravery and dignity for the first time the story of how she and her mother were betrayed and sold into sexual slavery in China and forced to suffer terrible psychological and physical hardship.

Park confronts her past with a startling resilience. In spite of everything, she has never stopped being proud of where she is from, and never stopped striving for a better life. Today she is a human rights activist working determinedly to bring attention to the oppression taking place in her home country. Park’s testimony is rare, edifying, and terribly important, and the story she tells in In Order to Live is heartbreaking and unimaginable but never without hope.

This book changed my life. 

Riveting, beautiful, and at heartbreaking, it really made me appreciate what I have in life and made me more aware of things that are currently happening in the world as we speak.

I think that no one should be able to talk about North Korea and about how it’s not a big deal that we help the people there until they read this book.

Truly an amazing and unbelievable story.

2. The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller (Genre: Fantasy)

Back cover:

Achilles, "the best of all the Greeks," son of the cruel sea goddess Thetis and the legendary king Peleus, is strong, swift, and beautiful— irresistible to all who meet him. Patroclus is an awkward young prince, exiled from his homeland after an act of shocking violence. Brought together by chance, they forge an inseparable bond, despite risking the gods' wrath.

They are trained by the centaur Chiron in the arts of war and medicine, but when word comes that Helen of Sparta has been kidnapped, all the heroes of Greece are called upon to lay siege to Troy in her name. Seduced by the promise of a glorious destiny, Achilles joins their cause, and torn between love and fear for his friend, Patroclus follows. Little do they know that the cruel Fates will test them both as never before and demand a terrible sacrifice.

A phenomenally written and emotional re-telling of the classic Greek epic the Iliad that delves into the romantic relationship between Achilles and Patroclus.

Madeline Miller truly has an undeniable god-given talent for writing; her descriptions and storytelling makes for a book that you CANNOT put down once you’ve picked it up.

I read this book in a day and had a serious, serious book hangover afterward; I literally could NOT stop thinking about it for days. It just sticks with you, you know?

Me and my mom both wept over this book; it is truly a triumph and a masterpiece.

1. The Grishaverse by Leigh Bardugo (Genre: Fantasy)

Back cover of Shadow and Bone, first book in The Grisha Trilogy:

Soldier. Summoner. Saint. Orphaned and expendable, Alina Starkov is a soldier who knows she may not survive her first trek across the Shadow Fold―a swath of unnatural darkness crawling with monsters. But when her regiment is attacked, Alina unleashes dormant magic not even she knew she possessed.

Now Alina will enter a lavish world of royalty and intrigue as she trains with the Grisha, her country’s magical military elite―and falls under the spell of their notorious leader, the Darkling. He believes Alina can summon a force capable of destroying the Shadow Fold and reuniting their war-ravaged country, but only if she can master her untamed gift.

As the threat to the kingdom mounts and Alina unlocks the secrets of her past, she will make a dangerous discovery that could threaten all she loves and the very future of a nation.

Welcome to Ravka . . . a world of science and superstition where nothing is what it seems.

Back cover of Six of Crows, first book in the Six of Crows Duology:

Ketterdam: a bustling hub of international trade where anything can be had for the right price―and no one knows that better than criminal prodigy Kaz Brekker. Kaz is offered a chance at a deadly heist that could make him rich beyond his wildest dreams. But he can't pull it off alone. . . .

A convict with a thirst for revenge. A sharpshooter who can't walk away from a wager. A runaway with a privileged past. A spy known as the Wraith. A Heartrender using her magic to survive the slums. A thief with a gift for unlikely escapes.

Six dangerous outcasts. One impossible heist. Kaz's crew is the only thing that might stand between the world and destruction―if they don't kill each other first.

The Grishaverse is a group of series that are all set within the same universe where magic runs wild and the world-building-- from the culture of each country to the unique landscapes--is so phenomenal that you almost wish you could jump right into the book like Blue’s Clues and live there forever.

Leigh Bardugo is my favorite author of all time.

Her writing is beyond any other tier that I have every had the pleasure to read, to the point where I couldn’t read any other books for a good year after finishing the Six of Crows Duology because it set my standards so high for YA fantasy.

There are many books within the Grishaverse-- including the Grisha Trilogy, the Six of Crows Duology, the King of Scars series, and the Language of Thorns storybook--but you don’t have to have read one series to understand the other.

Personally, I like the Six of Crows Duology better than the Grisha Trilogy; it was written afterward and the writing and storytelling is far more evolved and sophisticated.

But even so, Leigh Bardugo really is an incredible storyteller, so if you can get your hands on any of these books, please do!

[sleepyfan-blog]

When Somebody Loved Me

For all the people on discord who encouraged me to write this

fandom: undertale AU

characters and pairing: Dream, Hearts,  dreammare

Warning: angst, songfic

Word count: 2,343

Summary: Dream while playing a playing piano and singing, reflects.

Dream wandered through an empty underground - wondering whether it was because this Timeline was the end result of an unmerciful human, or because the monsters were all above ground, living happily on the surface, doing their best to get along with humanity above... He had left the Omega Timeline. He... He could usually stay there - it was a pretty positive place, and the people there were always happy to see him (feel his aura, talk about what happened to them in their own timelines, grateful for a listening ear and a compassionate hug or pat on the back depending on how touch-adverse they were). But it was difficult to maintain the mask of cheerfulness... Particularly as a comment that  one of the Sanses had made had cut deeply. He had assumed that because he was cheerful all the time, that nothing awful had ever happened to him.

That Dream couldn't possibly understand what it was like to lose one's entire timeline, and everyone he ever loved. So he had left that Sans to grieve, wandering off and feeling something crumble a little. Which was why he had left the Omega Timeline before someone else came up to talk to him. He was glad that the timeline he'd randomly teleported to was empty - but he didn't smell any dust or feel any lingering feelings of pain, anger or fear so... Why this underground was empty, it was unlikely that it was due to his... His... Due to Nightmare.

Dream spotted a piano through the window of one of the shops he was walking by, and after a moment's hesitation, the guardian of positivity walked through the empty building, his soft footsteps almost deafening as he walked across the floor, not really taking in the decor - flashy and there seemed to be a little bit of glitter on the floor. There was also a raised stage and several poles anchored on the floor and ceiling. Dream noticed but disregarded all of this, making his way around the tables to the piano, running his fingertips against the instrument, lightly tapping each of the keys.

It was reasonably in tune so the positive spirit pulled out the bench and sat down in front of the piano, beginning to play, a song coming to mind.

"When somebody loved me, everything was beautiful. Every hour we spent together lives within my heart." Dream began, his voice wavering a little, before getting stronger. His eye lights went out as he thought back on old, now bittersweet memories.

Dream and Nightmare sitting at the base of the tree, cuddled together as they drew shapes in the stars, making up stories about the figures that they created - fierce battles between epic heroes and dastardly villains, laughing and happy in the warm summer evening.

"And when he was sad, I was there to dry her tears. And when she was happy, so was I. When she loved me." Dream sang, his fingers dancing on the piano keys, remembering the first time that Nightmare had come back from the village alone, dirty, clothes slightly torn and tears falling from his face. He had immediately rushed to the other's side, healing him of his injuries and wiping away the pain. His favorite memories of their time together were when Nightmare was smiling and laughing - like when he surprised the other with books...

The many, many jokes that they told one another... Light and gentle kisses, sweet promises that had ended up broken and shattered like their timeline. Tears blurred Dream's eyes as he continued to sing and play, his shoulders shaking a little. He could still remember the way that Nightmare's kisses felt like - the other's tender touches as they held one another - his comforting words making even the worst thunderstorms seem better.

"Through the summer and the fall, we had each other, that was all. Just he and I together, like it was meant to be." Dream continued. He really missed the time before any of the villagers had been around them. Both of them had been happiest at that time - no one else taking up the other's time. Blissfully ignorant of the pain and suffering that others could cause. He remembered fondly the times when they made one another flower crowns, wearing the gift that the other had made them until the petals withered and fell.

Running through the meadow that surrounded The Tree, dragging a half-heartedly protesting Nightmare to come see the first blossoms of summer, tumbling playfully down the grassy hill, rolling and laughing as they came to a stop, hugging one another and laying down in the warm grass, watching the butterflies go past them.

"And when he was lonely, I was there to comfort him... And I knew that he loved me..." Dream sung softly, his voice breaking a little at the word love again. He had thought he had done all that he could to cheer up Nightmare, as he had noticed that the other had been pulling away as the villagers came and visited them more frequently. He had done all he could to reassure Nightmare that though he had liked interacting with the mortals... His heart belonged to his beloved, and that he would do all he could to support the other.

"So the years went by, I stayed the same, but he began to drift away." Not that it had worked... Dream had no idea why at the time, but the longer that the villagers had stayed around, and the village grew larger and more prosperous around them... The further that his beloved, his other half had drifted from him... And the positive spirit had no idea why. He had desperately tried to call out to the other, to reach him, but Nightmare had only pulled further away from him... From everyone, sinking in on himself and burying himself in his books, hiding in the tree. Unreachable and untouchable.

"I was left alone, but still I waited for the day when he'd say I will always love you." Dream managed out, his soul aching as he remembered how... How distant Nightmare had grown, as unbeknownst to him, the villagers' attacks on Nightmare had gotten much, much worse. As Dream had desperately tried to gain more of his beloved's attention - pulling away from the mortals in an attempt to be more available for his other half, they in turn, became more cruel to Nightmare for daring to steal Dream's attention from him. Not that he had known any of that until... Until he'd been turned into a statue and Nightmare had told him in all of the ways the villagers had been cruel and unkind to him.

"Lonely and forgotten, never thought he'd look my way. He smiled at me and held me, just like he used to do. Like he loved me..." Dream sung softly, the tears still freely flowing from his face, making the keys slick and more difficult to play. Luckily the song was a fairly slow one. He... Dream remembered one final day, just before Nightmare had eaten almost all of the apples, where his beloved had spent the entire day with him. The two of them had talked and laughed - played games and held one another close... Just like they used to. Dream had hoped that it had meant that whatever dark mood his beloved had fallen into, Nightmare was finally starting to come out of. That his patience and persistence at trying to be by the other's side whenever he could had finally started to pay off. "When he loved me..." Dream repeated again, stopping playing for a couple of moments as he buried his face in his hands, sobbing a little.

After a couple of moments, the positive guardian manages to rally himself to continue to play again, though his voice is still trembling under the weight of his grief, guilt and sorrow as he finished the chorus again, the tears still freely falling from his face. He found the silence deafening after the last note of the piano died away. Dream curled up on the piano bench and allowed himself to sob, rocking back and forth a little in a vain attempt to calm himself down. If he got too stressed or upset Nightmare would find him and he was so very far from prepared to deal with Nightmare in the state that he was in. He shivered a little and scrubbed his face with his hands before smacking his cheeks, taking in a couple of steadying breaths, starting to get himself under control.

Dream was well aware that he was going to have to spend more than a couple of minutes collecting himself in this empty section of timeline - so that when he wandered back to the Omega Timeline, he could continue to put his best foot forwards in order to help other people. He was being incredibly selfish as it was, breaking down like this. Had he noticed that Nightmare was suffering, he might have been able to avoid a lot of the pain and suffering that so many had suffered. Including his beloved Nightmare.

"Hello sweetheart. I thought I heard the echoing sounds of a pretty little songbird. Who's the awful monster who stole your soul from you? I know the sound of true heartbreak when I hear it." A skeleton in a blue furred, sleeveless purple jacket, a black crop top and pants. His bright blue boots matched the color of the fluff on his jacket.

Dream flinched back in shock, scrambling backwards and managing to paste on a (very fake) smile, painfully aware of the fact that he still had golden tear tracks on his face - and was sitting in a puddle of his own glowing tears. "I... I don't... I don't know wh-what you mean by that.. I-I'm fine, really." He pushed his positive aura on the other a little, hoping that the stranger would believe his flat out lie.

"Sugar, I heard you sobbing the entire time you sang. There's no way that you're fine lovely as your magic feels. You don't have to tell me anything, we are strangers... But I am here to listen, if you want to talk."

"I... I don't... Why do you want to help me? I am a stranger..." Dream asked, his voice shaking a little as he wiped his face clean. "A-And what's your name? I've been terribly rude, I'm sorry."

"You're heart sick and miserable, besides you've been much nicer than most alternate selves I've ran into. I don't particularly care what the others' call me... For a nickname, call me Hearts... What's yours?" The other responded, a small frown appearing on his face as he walked over. "I've seen glimpses of you, but never for very long. I suspect that the others have been keeping us apart. Likely because they might think I'll corrupt you or something equally ridiculous."

"I... My name is Dream. It's nice to meet you, Hearts!" The positive guardian responded with a small, but a more real smile on his face. Dream scooted over over to one side of the bench and patted the seat "If... You can sit down if you want to."

"Oh! I've heard a great deal about you. You're incredibly popular amongst the good Sanses... Although I suspect that it's rather... Wearing on you. And I can't imagine that running beside Ink for as long as you have is particularly restful." Hearts murmured, his eye lights shining brightly. "And thank you, I think I will."

"I... Haha... Yeah, Ink can be rather a lot. But uhm... I don't mind. I like keeping busy. It's better than not having anything to do as I get left alone with my thoughts and I... Would rather avoid that..." Dream murmured flinching as he realized just what he said "I... I mean, there's a lot I can do to help others... So I have to..."

"Hmmm... I suppose that's true... But if you keep helping everyone all the time and running on emotional empty like you clearly are... You're going to lose it sooner or later. I'm not saying that you should trust me, a random stranger... But you need to talk about what's causing you pain. Also I will help you beat up Ink or Blue - whichever one of the two of them broke your heart this way." Hearts responded, a bit of a growl in his voice.

"Aahahahaha... No I... I care for Blue and Ink, but no. I've never been in love with either of them. I was singing about someone else. Someone from my home timeline. I miss... I miss him still, despite everything that's happened between us..." Dream laughed, a hysterical note entering his voice. Oh, he was pretty sure that Ink would be delighted if he fell in love with the other - that way he was more likely to stay at the soulless skeleton's side forever (and so that Ink could continue to use his aura in several ways).

"W... Who are you in love with? If you don't mind me asking?" Hearts asked, staring at him in surprise.

"He'll hear me if I say his name." Dream said after a moment, shaking his head a little. That and he didn't want Hearts to potentially freak out - as he was pretty sure that the other would know who Nightmare was, if he knew of Ink. His other half had been causing quite a lot of trouble, after all.

"I... Uhm. Oh, okay?" Hearts managed out, blinking in confusion, clearly taken off-guard. The other looked like he was about to say something else when Dream's phone went off.

It was Ink - Error was trying to destroy a timeline again. "I... I have to go. Thank you for listening to me."

"You're welcome. Come find me anytime sweetheart." Hearts responded "Now go save a poor innocent universe from the clutches of Evil."

Dream chuckled a little at that and nodded "I... I will! Thanks." He was feeling somewhat better, and determined to fight Error.

[softkim2]

It Seems my Lonely Days are Through

↳ story header made by yours truly. I do not own the rights to the image used.

» Pairing(s): Number Five & Teen!Vanya Hargreeves 

» Genre(s): Angst, Romance, & Humor

» Warning(s) / Ratings: Swearing / PG-13

» Words: 3.3K

» Summary: ❝Sadly…Just like any other promise…It was made to be broken…❞ Just when Vanya felt that she could rely on Five forever, she knew deep down that he always wanted to time-travel. She just didn't know that he'd say something to their father so soon...

Another day of being left behind. Another point added to her mental scoreboard. Then, this oh so familiar emotion entered her mind. This feeling of being unwanted…unloved…unneeded… No one needed her around. No one wanted her around. And eventually, that feeling became her true companion. Her insecurities heightened. A sad smile became a permanent one. No longer did she wanted to smile because she’s happy but smile to get unwanted questions from a certain someone. Out of all of her siblings, Vanya only cared about having certain judgmental stares from her brother, Five. Ever since he’d grown to trust her with his innermost worries and problems, Vanya didn’t want to disappoint him nor worry him with her own personal issues.

So…just like any other – normal – adolescent…she buried them deep within her psyche and called it a day. As long as Five had someone to vent his problems too, then Vanya was content with bottling up her emotions. Maybe her father giving those pills was a blessing in disguise. It helped suppressed her emotions – her feelings – a lot easier. Though, not enough for her to become this emotionless robot. That’s when Five would raise a few questions and more than likely lash out on either their father, their siblings, or a combination of both. And she didn’t want that. There’s already a tiny riff between Five and her and the rest of the family. She didn’t want it to worsen.

Just like with any family…

They needed each other…

They may not need each other right this moment but eventually they would.

It’s only a matter of seconds…

Taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling, Vanya mustered all of her remaining mental strength to compose herself. She took a glance at the clock, knowing that just like the previous days, her siblings would be returning from their afternoon training session shortly. She didn’t want her siblings, specifically Five, to see her cheeks stained with tears. Her eyes almost bloodshot from the number of tears that trickled down the sides of her precious face.

No. She needed to be strong. Unbothered by the constant ridicule and reminder that she’s simply ordinary. There’s nothing special about her.

With a few more breaths. Vanya managed to compose herself. A somber expression appeared on her face as she picked up her violin, that rested against the couch she had been sitting on. She positioned the violin underneath her chin and against her shoulder. Then, she positioned both the bow and her fingers. Her eyes focused on the sheet music before her. With one final breath, releasing any emotions that threatened to spill out, Vanya began playing. The first few notes were light, almost energetic, Then, it became eerie. Practically haunting as the sounds of rushing footsteps echoed throughout the foyer.

Yup. Like clockwork.

“New song?” The violinist heard Klaus ask. A rare interaction whenever he needed a distraction from his ghoulish friends.

The corners of her lips quirked up as Vanya nodded, continuing to play the beautiful musical piece. Shortly, she became lost to the music. This feeling of tranquility consumed her as she executed each section perfectly. Even her brother, Diego, complimented her playing, and that’s extremely rare. He almost never said anything nice to her. Unless Five managed to persuade Diego to apologize for being an asshole.

She’d always appreciate it when Five came to her protection. With him around, she’s able to lower her shields but even then, it didn’t last long. She’d soon remember what her father, Reginald, had discussed with her weeks prior.

“I told you, Number Seven, I do not want you interfering with your siblings training. They already have enough on their minds and do not need their ordinary sister getting in the way…”

God. She honestly lost count how many times she’d been called ordinary by her dear old dad. She could fill up a jar with how much she’d been called that. That’s how bad it was. That’s how much it’s instilled in her precious mind.

She’s just plain…old…

“I know that look. What did our asshole of a father say to you now?” An oh so familiar voice interrupted her train of thought. Her body flinched as she didn’t expect someone to linger around. And because of that, she accidentally played a few sour notes, causing both her and the other person to wince. Their poor ears.

Vanya then removed the violin from her shoulder and hugged it against her chest. She swiveled her body around and came face-to-face with Five. The one sibling she didn’t want to see right this second.

“It’s nothing, Five.” She said shortly before gently placing her violin back in its case and locking it. “I’ll see you at dinner.” She quickly added, brushing past him and heading to her sanctuary. Her safe haven. Her room.

His brows became knitted together. He drew his lower lip between his teeth as confusion glazed over his eyes. He couldn’t help but follow her retreating body, wondering if he had done something to cause such a strange reaction.

Had he unintentionally lashed out on her and forget to apologize? No, because he had been always careful to never take his frustrations on her. Luther and Diego? Yes. Vanya? Never.

Did he forget about an important secret meeting between? Nah. That couldn’t be it as he personally scheduled them with her. He constantly found himself needing her calm presence. Never vice-versa.

So, why did she run away from him? Why did his heart ache a little as she quickly dismissed his act of concern?

Then, thanks to his highly intelligent brain, Five soon realized that it had to do with the monster that they had to unfortunately call, “father”. He felt like an imbecile for not putting the puzzle pieces together sooner. Five wasn’t blind. He knew that there’s indeed a sudden change within Vanya. He just either didn’t have the time to talk to her about it or weren’t able to get some valuable alone time with her. He had been preoccupied with his spatial jump training or working on how to perfect the act of time-travel. Reginald recommended that he practice his spatial jumping, then Five could learn how to time-travel. Yet week after week, Five had yet to see a change in his training regimen. That only pissed him off even more. Now, the icing on the cake was when he noticed a bigger separation between him and Vanya. She’d either be by Reginald’s side or doing her own thing around the time he and the rest of their siblings are training or on a mission.

He rarely had the chance to hang around her and enjoy her presence. Shit. He started to forget how it felt to hug her. How her body fitted perfectly against his. How, right now, they were at a perfect height that complimented one another.

A faint scoff escaped his lips as an amused smirk slowly appeared on his lips. Five found his thoughts to be quite humorous.

“So…this is what a love sick teen feels like…” He thought, shaking his head as he stuffed his hands inside his pockets. Then, his gaze focused on the grandfather clock nearby. He noted the time and quickly calculated if he had enough time to have some much needed one-on-one time with his beloved Vanya.

Luckily…

He did…

Without a second to lose, he activated his spatial jumping, teleporting himself in the hallway that led to his and his siblings’ bedrooms. He remained still; his ears listened for any sounds that could indicate that someone would be leaving their room. Though, he doubted it as his siblings liked to lock themselves away to obtain a moment of peace. They practically spent every single day with each other. A few hours without being in the presence of another wouldn’t kill them.

Five waited a few more seconds before teleporting himself in front of Vanya’s room. Then, just as he raised his hand to politely knock on her door, he heard a sound that he vowed to never hear again…

Vanya’s cries…

To this day, the sassy teen remembered the first time he heard her heartbreaking sobs. It felt like someone got lucky enough to get a clean on him and repeated those punches. His chest tightened whenever he recalled that ”lovely” memory so vividly.

Not wanting to put him and Vanya through this horrendous torture, Five barged right in and slammed the door shut, uncaring if that were to alert his other siblings. If anything, he prayed that they heard, so they could see what their cruel acts and words had done to his Vanya.

No one would be allowed to cause her tears – and this time – he’d do a fucking better job at protecting her.

She’d never have to go through with this alone ever again.

Without saying a word, Five rushed to her side and kneeled in front of her. Just like when he grew enough balls to rest his hand on top of hers, he did it again. His hands grasped hers just as a few tears landed on his hot skin.

His jaw tightened. Her lips quivered. Love and concern flashed in his eyes while hers remained shut as tears continued to fall. She hated herself for reaching this breaking point but after seeing Five and hearing his voice, she just broke. All of her inner desperate pleas came rushing out the gates in the form of sobs.

She hated having to pretend that there’s nothing between them. No friendship. No adoration. Nothing. Not even a blossoming love that’d be considered taboo in the public eye. She had been forbidden to interact with him. Her one source of happiness.

She absolutely despised it, but if it meant that Five would be one step closer to his potential, then so be it. Strangers they would be.

“Vanya…” Her mind registered the softness in his voice. No. No. No. He shouldn’t be in here. If their father caught them – together – like this, then there’d be Hell to pay. No. Five had to leave.

Choking back a few of her sobs, Vanya controlled her breathing, though it’s proven difficult. Her breathing had become incredibly sporadic. Wild.

“You…have…to…go…” She managed to say even though it’s painful to do so.

Five looked taken back. Hurt burned in his eyes. Why was she shutting him out? Just like how she’s there for him, he’s there for her. He’d be her support whenever she felt like giving up.

She had constantly reminded him that she’s there for him. No matter what.

Now…

It’s his turn…

Gently wiping away the tears with his thumbs, Five allowed his hands to remain on her face. His eyes studied her facial expression, also noting her body language, allowing it to relax just a bit before speaking again. He didn’t want to trigger her again.

“Vanya…” He began; his voice almost a whisper, “Talk to me. What’s on your mind?” He asked, concern dripping on every single word.

Vanya remained silent, slightly leaning against his touch. His cold hand felt nice against her warm cheek. Her gaze studied Five’s face, noting how scared yet concern he was. This would be the second time she had seen that gaze. The first time was when he had found her crying her eyes out after she had yet again been ridiculed by her “loving” siblings for being plain. For being boring. She had tucked herself away inside the garden, that’s placed on the roof, and decided to drown out her tears – her sorrows – with her violin. Though, the moment she did, Five managed to find her with ease. His protective instincts were at an all time high after he overheard Diego and Luther saying horrendous things about her, while Allison, Klaus, and Ben laughed. They didn’t bother coming to her aid.

“Assholes…” He called them as he teleported to wherever Vanya held herself up. While, it took several spatial jumps, Five eventually popped up beside her, accidentally freaking her out and causing her to scream. His ear drums were damaged for a few days after that, but he didn’t pay attention because Vanya smiled as she laughed at his face. The snarl and glare on his face for some strange reason was incredibly hilarious in her eyes. Her laughter was highly addicting to the point that Five did everything and anything to recreate that. In that afternoon, he had the chance – the opportunity – to see a carefree Vanya. A side of her that he hadn’t seen in a long ass time.

Now, here he remained kneeling in front of her, offering words of comfort as he did almost everything to get his sweet Vanya to crack a smile. He’d even asked her to play her favorite musical piece for him, but Vanya simply replied with,

“Maybe later…my heart isn’t into it right now…”

Five, then in response, nodded as he said, “Understandable. Sometimes I wish I had that luxury.”

Vanya sniffled, “What do you mean?”

“Just that,” He began as he finally stood up, stretching his leg muscles. Then, he took a seat next to her and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders, “You don’t realize this, Vanya, but you’re lucky. You have these amazing chances of taking breaks. Doing everything and anything that your heart desires.” A long sigh escaped his lips, “While with me and the rest of the crime fighting siblings, we don’t. It’s training from sunrise to sundown. And when we’re not training, then it’s those stupid, annoying missions,” He absentmindedly pulled Vanya closer. Her head now rested against the crook of his neck, “While, yes, with our abilities, taking down the bad guys is like an afternoon stroll at the local park. However, doing the same thing over and over gets redundant. Basically boring.” He finished his speech before placing an innocent kiss on her head. Innocent enough it could be seen as an act of sibling love in case their father so happened to stumble on them. With their luck, he’d be right around the corner. Seriously. It’s like Reginald had installed sensors on Vanya’s door and Five’s, alerting him of their so called “canoodling”.

Just thinking about the old man’s lecture frustrated Five to the point that his jaw clenched slightly. Everything that old man did only fueled Five’s innermost hatred towards him.

But that’s not important right now. Vanya’s important and would always be important to him.

Gently rubbing her arm, Five and Vanya remained silent, enjoying each other’s presence. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, Vanya pulled back and created some space but not too much since Five still wanted to hold her. Like a little child clinging onto his or her favorite object. An object that gave him or her a sense of security.

That was Vanya. She was his sense of security. She kept his sanity intact while they both lived in that dysfunctional home.

“Thank you, Five.” She said softy with a sweet smile.

One corner of his mouth titled up. Five displayed his signature smirk. A smirk he had developed only for her but not to be confused with his condescending smile. That smile was reserved for his other siblings, minus Ben. Well. It depended if he partook in the ridiculing of Vanya, then, he’d that smirk and his wrath.

But most of the time, it’s usually Diego, Luther, and Allison that got it. How fitting since it’s the top three soldiers in their odd army.

Soon, his smirk grew into a smile. Then, a sweet and light kiss was placed on Vanya’s forehead.

“Anytime, Vanya. You just need to remember that you’re never alone, especially when you think you are. You’re not. You’ll always have me.” He said just as an alarm went off. Time for dinner. With one final reassuring squeeze on her shoulder, Five stood up and then offered his hand. Vanya smiled brightly and placed her hand into his. The moment he felt her hand, he quickly interlaced their fingers. He’d never grow tired with how well their hands molded together.

Recently, they had started to hold hands but only when they’re alone and certain that no one would catch them. One of the many risks that Allison had warned him about months prior. If only her concern lasted, especially towards Vanya.

But…oh well…

“So, I’m thinking of asking dear old dad about time-travel again.” He stated, stuffing his free hand into the pockets of his shorts.

Vanya’s forehead creased. Her jaw tightened slightly. She knew that Five wanted to time-travel, but he never got any practice because their dad would always reject his request. Today, she knew that it’d be his breaking point if their dad were to say no to Five’s request again. And knowing Five, she knew that he’d give in to his short-temper and do something irrational.

Then, she’d be left all alone…

“Are you sure that’s a wise decision? I mean what if he says no?” She asked, stopping right near the stairway but out of sight from the views of their siblings.

Five sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, “If he says no, then I don’t know.” He turned his head towards Vanya, “I’m tired of being told that I’m not ready, especially since I’ve been practicing those stupid spatial jumps like he told me to. I even managed to work out those pesky equations. Like, what more does he want from me?” He ranted; his voice gradually increased in pitch.

Vanya frowned, squeezing his hand in an act of comfort.

“I know but maybe he’s right. Sure, his explanation can be a tad nicer but perhaps he’s onto something. What if you do manage to successfully time-travel but end up somewhere and have no means to come back.” She stated, voicing her worries.

Five cupped her cheek, gently caressing it, “That’s not going to happen, Vanya. After all, I have you waiting for me back here so of course, I’m going to come back. I just want to see if I can do it. Even if it’s a tiny jump in time, I just want to see.” Then, he unlaced their fingers and pulled her into a warm and loving hug, “Then, with more practice, I’ll take you with me, and we’ll be far away from here. No more siblings who bully you. No more dad that constantly berates you for being ordinary. None of them. It’s just going to be the two of us.” He told her, soothing away her worries. Though, she had a point. What if he were to get stuck in a time with no means of getting back? God. Just the mere thought of Vanya growing up without him scared him. Instilled a fear within his mind. Yet he had to push them away. He needed to do this. To try. Then, his future could officially begin.

With one final squeeze, Five released his hold on special violinist. He flashed her a reassuring smile as if he’d told her to not worry about him nor say a word during dinner.

Just as he turned towards the stairs, he felt a tug on his sleeve. He peered down and saw Vanya’s hand stopping him.

He raised a brow, “What’s wrong?”

“Promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Promise me that if you were to get stuck somewhere with no means of getting back, that you’d find a way to come back to me.”

Five’s breath hitched. She didn’t need to tell him that. He already knew. He’d do anything and everything to get back to her. His sole reason of even endearing the constant training and annoying siblings that he cared for here and there.

“Promise me, Five.”

“I promise you, Vanya Hargreeves, that I’ll do everything in my power to come back to you.”

Sadly…

Just like any other promise…

It was made to be broken…

“Okay. I’ll be holding you to that, sir.”

“You wound me, dear…”

A/N: Wow! This one is a tad longer than my previous one shot! I just had so much fun writing this one, especially since it kind of goes along with the dinner scene during the flashback scene of episode 2 of the series. I just like how Young Vanya shook her head and then look upset/shock to see Five run out. And then the whole Five screaming out Vanya's name first? Yeah. I just had to write a little something that could add to the fan theories/explanations as to why Five screamed out her name first. Anywho, now that this is done. I'm thinking of doing like a mini-series! Maybe even ask you guys to comment something you'd want to see Five x Vanya do behind closed doors. A funny idea I have right now is Five, giving in to his big ego, proving that he's the better protector than Luther, and the two have this weird competition while Reginald is away. So that should be fun! disclaimer: Now, I'm fully aware of the discourse between whether the Hargreeves are considered to be engaging in incestuous relationships or not (I especially acknowledge the arguments coming from people who are indeed from adopted families). I also know that the fandom will always be divided because of it so please do not send any hate comments on this story. If it is not your cup of tea, then do not read it. Simple as that. Anyway, I hope you guys like this!

Don’t forget to leave a kudos/comment on your thoughts! I love hearing them! :)

- Kim

[star-going-supernova]

The Nightmare’s Just Begun

This is what happens when I write while in a less-than-stellar mood—primarily anger. Title from the song Monster by Skillet. And a bit of a fun fact: the pain I describe is all from personal experience, just exaggerated a bit for the story.

Warning: this is not a happy story. There are clear and detailed depictions of gory violence and pain. Murder and injuries ahead, so proceed with caution. 

read it on Ao3

When Bendy opened his eyes, he thought everything was going to be okay. The hit to his head that had knocked him out didn’t matter, because Henry was standing right in front of him. He’d get Bendy out of whatever mess he was in now, he just knew it.

But then his gaze drifted past Henry and locked on Joey in all his crimson madness. He grinned at his Creator, cruel and victorious.

“You’re awake,” Henry said. “Good. I was worried I hit you too hard.”

Bendy’s stomach flip-flopped and bottomed out, and his heart felt lodged in his throat. “What?” he whispered hoarsely— because no. No, Henry couldn’t mean what it sounded like.

Henry smiled, and it was full of condescension. “Did you really think that just because I came out on-model that I’d automatically be on your side? That I would forsake my friends, my family, for you?” He shook his head and tsked. “You’re a fool if you thought I’d care.”

Trying to find words to voice his thoughts proved impossible. How could you articulate such heartbreaking betrayal?

He had never seen Henry’s eyes— usually so bright and warm and caring— look so terribly, horrifically cold.

“Just remember, you made me this. You gave me the potential to stop caring.”

With those ominous words ringing in the silence— something about them seemed familiar, like Bendy had forgotten some important detail— Henry turned away to face what Bendy realized with growing horror was an actual pile of toons. His friends, his employees, nothing more than bodies ready for slaughter.

Bendy’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly, his breath lodged in his throat.

Henry seemed to come to some decision, one that lifted one corner of his mouth up in a wicked smirk as he looked back at him. “You know what would be fun?” he asked, approaching Bendy. “Making you feel them die, so you can suffer for your sins.”

Eyes flaring, Henry pressed a single finger against Bendy’s chest, over his racing heart.

“Let’s see how you like it, pain worse than death but with no mercy waiting at the end of it.” And without giving Bendy a moment to even try and process that, Henry turned back, snatched up one of the unconscious toons, and slowly began to tear one of his victim’s arms off.

There was a delay, a long second where Bendy thought maybe Henry had done something wrong, but then—

He shrieked, his body convulsing, as he felt his bones and cartilage creak under the unimaginable pressure, and a sharp, shearing pain wracked through him as his muscles stretched taut like a rubber band before snapping just as easily. Eyes clenched shut, his back bowed and he lost all sensation in his left hand, and it felt like ice was overtaking his shoulder in shards, piercing and severing his ink.

With a popping splat, the toon’s arm came off their body like a chicken wing being split open. Ink erupted over the trio from the force of it, and Bendy went limp as though paralyzed. He couldn’t move his arm— in fact, he couldn’t feel it at all. If he wasn’t capable of seeing it right there on his body, he would’ve believed without question that Henry had just torn his own off instead of someone else’s.

Henry’s hand wrenched his body forward. “One down,” he whispered. “And so very many to go.”

Bendy couldn’t have contained his whimper if he’d tried. “Please,” he begged the angel. “Please don’t.”

Behind Henry, Joey spoke up for the first time in a while. “Why should we stop,” he snarled, “when you never did?”

After releasing Bendy, Henry tossed the remains of the toon at his friend, who promptly began stuffing the corpse into an ink-filled container. “It’ll dissolve now that it ain’t stable anymore,” Joey said when he caught Bendy’s gaze. “Whoever that was will just melt away. You lot are almost even less alive than we are.”

“Oh,” Henry said suddenly from where he was surveying the large pile of toons. “What have we here?” Watching the horror grow on Bendy’s face, he dragged Alice out from beneath someone else. “Look what Susie must’ve dragged in.”

“Henry, please,” Bendy begged him. “Please, you can do whatever you want with me, just— please stop hurting them!”

“Don’t you get it?” With a careless flick of his wrist, Henry sent Alice’s halo spinning upwards, where it zinged to hover over his own larger one. “I’m already doing whatever I want with you.” Turning to Joey, Henry shook Alice’s body. “Got any suggestions?”

Maintaining eye contact with Bendy, Joey said, “Tear her throat out.”

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Henry wrapped his hand around Alice’s slim neck. He paused there, motionless, and for every silent second that passed, Bendy grew more and more tense. He could barely even see with the way his tears were blurring his vision, but Henry had already made sure that wouldn’t be a problem, hadn’t he?

Why watch the systematic destruction of everyone Bendy had ever known and cared about, when he could feel it all instead?

Henry’s fingers dug into her ink like claws, and he buried them deeper and deeper to the sound of Bendy’s cracking scream.

It felt like hot pokers ramming through his throat, colliding and searing his insides. His voice faded in and out and his body understood his vocal cords to be slowly ripped free like fragile threads being snapped. The pain extended into his head, and the back of his mouth began to peel away like flimsy paper, following after the bulk of his throat. His spine bent as Henry dug even farther in, as though trying to full on decapitate him by simply ripping away everything between his head and body, for as little as he had there in comparison to Alice.

His head lolled brokenly as Alice’s ink splattered over him, her own head connected to her body by only the thinnest of threads.

The world faded in and out around him, disjointed and blurry. If Henry and Joey were talking, Bendy couldn’t hear it.

With no way to tell how much time was passing, much less if he was even truly conscious as the minutes ticked by, Bendy just sort of floated. What little of his mind that was still working kept replaying the last few moments like a looped cartoon scene.

They were gone. They were all gone. Alice, taken so completely right in front of him, Boris was who knew where, and so many familiar faces had stared dead-eyed up at him from the pile of soon-to-be and already-were corpses.

A dull pain started in his lower stomach, weak and almost pleasant compared to having his throat torn out. The pain gradually grew until his body moved without his input, hunching as much as he could in his restraints, curling around the sharp, pulsing sensation. He groaned and began to come back to himself.

It felt like something was trying to break out of his gut, like a bomb was going off in slow motion, tearing him apart without killing him.

He heard laughter right in front of him, and through his slowly diminishing willpower, Bendy managed to raise his head.

Sitting on the floor, Henry grinned back at him. Beside him, Joey was happily digging through the gory mess of a toon’s torso.

“Thought you’d given up on us,” Henry said, “so we decided to give you a little wake up call.”

Joey twisted his hand, and Bendy cried out as the pain briefly spiked, something in him bursting like a balloon that was squeezed too hard.

“You missed it,” Henry continued. “While you were taking your nap, Sammy and Wally stopped by with Boris. Of course, Boris was already dead— Sammy tore his heart out to save Wally, wasn’t that nice of him?— but that means all the Creators have been accounted for.” He smiled at Bendy with his treacherous isn’t everything wonderful smile.

Bendy dropped his head, curling up again.

“Are you having fun, Joey?” he heard Henry ask. There wasn’t a verbal answer, but from the way Bendy’s insides burned, he could take a good guess.

Drained in a way he’d never felt before, of life and hope and any will to live, Bendy tried to let go, tried to just slip away. It was surprisingly easy. Darkness, pain-free and deep, crept over him like a living thing.

“Oh, Creator,” he heard Henry say. “Leaving so soon? We’ve only just barely gotten started.”

He ignored him, and forced himself further away from this living nightmare.

“Bendy,” Henry said, his tone full of dangerous warning. “Stop it.”

Hands wrapped around his shoulders and gave him a firm shake. Strangely enough, though, the action was gentle.

“Bendy?”

It had to have been working. Henry’s voice sounded so far away. Was he dying, or just losing consciousness?  

“Bendy!”

All at once, it felt like his bonds had melted away, and without so much as thinking about it, he swiped at the menacing figure he felt leaning over him. Henry managed to dodge the attack aimed at his chest, but Bendy’s right hand connected with his face.

In that moment, he woke up.

Falling over himself, he scrambled blindly away from a hoarse, pained cry, fully expecting to see a mutilated toon that hadn’t been unconscious to the world before being ripped apart by either Henry or Joey.

Instead, he was faced with a room empty of corpses. Even Joey had vanished, nothing more than a fading remnant of a nightmare, leaving only Henry in sight, kneeling on the floor. He was hunched over, clutching the left side of his face.

The pain was gone, Bendy realized. He could move again. It was only a dream.

Nevertheless, he refused to take his eyes of the angel before him. Panting harshly into the silence, he waited for some sign, something to tell him that he was for sure where he should be. His heart felt ready to burst out of his chest.

After a minute, Henry slowly straightened, unerringly turning to face Bendy even before his head was fully raised. He’d done that before, Bendy knew— he seemed to have some innate ability to always know exactly where his Creator was— but it’d never unnerved him so much as it did right then.

In his mind’s eye, he saw Henry cold eyes and cruel smile. Could he actually escape a creature that could track him so easily? Had he sealed his fate when he brought Henry to life?

A flash of color that didn’t belong dragged him away from the question lingering at the edge of his mind— could he even trust Henry? His eyes widened at the sight of the angel.

Three long, deep gashes were carved into his face, grotesquely splitting his skin. The topmost started at a high point of Henry’s hairline, cutting down through his eyebrow and over the bridge of his nose. The second went from his temple to top lip, narrowly missing his eye. The third split his lower cheek from the edge of his jaw to the corner of his mouth, fully puncturing the skin in some places, displaying the edges of his teeth. Crimson oozed from each, dripping soundlessly to splatter on the floor.

“Bendy?”

Bendy tore his transfixed gaze away from the jagged wounds to meet Henry’s eyes. For a moment, he thought he could see fear within them.

Fear of him? But— but Henry was the monster. He was the one going behind Bendy’s back, fraternizing with the enemy, he was the one planning to hurt Bendy and all his friends.

He flexed the fingers of his right hand, feeling something sticky on them. He looked down, and without feeling guilty like he expected, saw the terrible red smeared across a hand that wasn’t familiar to him. There were even bits of skin caught beneath his claws.

Claws?

Finally taking in the rest of himself, Bendy realized he was larger. More human proportioned, with longer limbs and sharper angles. Going by the length of his legs, spindly as they were, he’d guess that he’d tower over any of the humans.

The first thought that entered his mind was good, then I’ll be able to defend myself when Henry turns on me.

When, not if. He knew now, he understood, what his creations were capable of.

“Are you all right?” Henry asked quietly. He didn’t move from his position on the floor, carefully watching Bendy. “You started screaming in your sleep.”

Instead of answering, Bendy shot back, “Why were you awake?”

Giving him a strange look, Henry slowly stood, flexing his wings. “I was on first watch, like we talked about.” He made an aborted reach for his injured face before repeating, “Are you all right?”

Bendy stared at him long enough for Henry to narrow his eyes. What was going through his creation’s head? “I’m fine,” he finally said.

“Wrong answer.” Henry stepped forward, though he immediately drew up to a halt when Bendy flinched away. “Bendy? What did you see?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

Brows furrowed, Henry shook his head. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

Struggling to his feet— made difficult by both the tremors leftover from his nightmare and the new, strange limbs— he snapped, “And how would you know, huh?”

Hurt flashed across Henry’s face and he recoiled slightly. “Bendy—”

“How did this even happen?” Bendy asked, gesturing sharply at himself. He’d been right. He practically dwarfed Henry the way the angel did to him normally.

Each word spoken carefully, as though expecting something to set Bendy off, Henry explained, “The ink— your ink— is malleable. That’s why Joey and the others want it.” He nodded at Bendy. “New bodies. I suppose whatever you saw in your dream was enough to make you…”

He trailed off for a moment before whispering with a half-hearted shrug, “A defense mechanism, I’d guess.”

Bendy nodded silently. He wondered if he should try returning to his normal body.

After watching him for a few long seconds, Henry fiddled with the edge of his wing. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? It’s supposed to help. Anything, please,” he nearly begged, looking like he desperately wanted to reach out to his Creator.

A day ago— even just a few hours ago— Bendy would barely have hesitated to confide in Henry, to accept whatever comfort the angel might offer, whether in the form of a wing hug or words of reassurance. But now, all he could see was the gory damage those hands were capable of.

“I don’t really remember what it was about,” Bendy said, fully aware that it didn’t sound even halfway convincing. Far be it from him to spill his guts— metaphorically this time— only to have Henry smugly confirm his worst fears. Unless, well. With Henry still obviously shaken and injured, and Bendy being so much larger— would it be better to confront him now and deal with the consequences while he had the advantage?

“Do you want to try and go back to sleep?” Henry asked, oblivious to Bendy’s internal debate. There was still doubt in his eyes, but he seemed willing to look past this whole incident. “Or do you want to keep moving?”

“Let’s walk for a bit,” Bendy said. Anything to keep him from being trapped in a confined space with the angel.

Taking a deep breath, Henry nodded and headed for the door, holding it open for Bendy as he always did. But that would put Henry behind Bendy while they walked, and— yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

“You first,” Bendy said, leaving no room for argument.

Henry’s wings tensed up in what he recognized as a defensive action, and Bendy knew. He knew that Henry got the message— that Henry was a large part of the problem. He knew that in those two words, he’d managed to fracture the friendship that’d been growing between them. He knew that if Henry truly was plotting against him, he wasn’t doing himself any favors, and might even be solidifying Henry’s decision to betray him.

But he couldn’t bring himself to care. As he followed Henry into the hallway, his own body feeling so unfamiliar, he wondered— which of them was the real monster?

[closevein]

          When she’d come at him, accusations sharp like knives and words ricocheting around the room like bullets, he’d kicked her away with a sarcastic shrug and simple words --

          It’s a dangerous world.

          And she’d said he didn’t know the difference between right and wrong - ha! Right and wrong, like abandoning herself to let the Heathers shape her into some kind of fucked up puppet for them to manipulate to do their bidding. Right and wrong, like snapping off window locks and breaking into houses. Right and wrong, like leading Martha Dunstock into the jaws of the cave and kicking her off the edge and into the darkness. Right and wrong, like letting the world keep on turning when the two of them alone have the power to turn it on its head.

          No, he knows plenty about right and wrong. The only difference, as had thus been proven with a slammed door and a quiet ‘I love you’ crushed beneath her heels, was that he was the only one who knew. Who really knew.

          So he takes to Moby Dick.

          As for me, I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote. I love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts.

          The pen scratches over parchment, it’s red far too akin to the flesh of strawberries to resemble the kind of blood that something in the center of his chest beckons to call forth. How ironic it is that the final straw had been borne out of rebellion for his father. Even moreso, rebellion for the remoteness called for across the pages. Remoteness like a life on the road, only touching down in places long enough for it to hurt when he’s ultimately uprooted. It’s funny, actually - he calls an act like shooting the ceiling and raining down plaster a rebellion, but he’d been dragged across so many states that all he can feel now, looking back on memories and the people who occupied them, is numbness. All of his insides, frozen over and saturated with the unnatural sugars of a slushie.

          Veronica would never survive, detached from humanity like that. She’s tangled herself in with the mess of it, fallen in love so blindly that even recognition of its flaws could not provoke her into action. Out in the sea, there’d be no place to pick on outsiders, no social hierarchy to pressure others into frizzing their hair and purging their stomachs and sharpen their smiles into something cold and cruel. ( How could she do this to him?? How could she abandon him like this?? How could she leave him to do this alone, on his own?? Something about this feels familiar. )

          It’s a strange thing to know, that he’d come to Sherwood, Ohio thinking he’d crushed every fragment of a desire to connect, and had then fallen in love.

          His knuckles are white around the book when he hands it to Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer.

          The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails, whereon my soul is grooved to run. Over unsounded gorges, through the rifled hearts of mountains, under torrents’ beds, unerringly I rush!

          There’s no stopping him! His bones burn like battery acid, his whole mouth is raw like he’d sucked the enamel right from his teeth. His heart is a war drum. It’s time!

             -- Knock knock! ”

          The words burst from his mouth like a flashbang. He’s overflowing with gasoline, everything burning to the touch, and somehow, it doesn’t hurt. He’s untouchable. He’s on cloud 9. And, perhaps the most important of them all -- He’s enlightened with sacrilege. Hot glue moves thick and viscous like magma, burning and burning and consuming and burning with every inch of flesh it coats, rising up the inner throat. Can’t breathe. Doesn’t need to. It’s time! Sin has dissolved out of existence, its matter evaporating - it doesn’t matter, it won’t need to after today.

                                        ( Jason Dean isn’t making any sense. )

             -- Sorry to come in through the window. Dreadful etiquette, I know. ”

          He’s on the top of the world, carefree and confident enough to wrestle a joke in his speech, with tight lips.. He’s high on oxygen and blood flow and the way his knuckles crack when he hoists himself into her room. It’s similar imagery, only so many weeks ago, he’d been on the receiving side. But she’s not in her bed like the image in his head constructs.There’ll be no fucking now - no gifted virginity between crushing kisses and grins and rushed reassurance that, yes, god, hell yes, was he okay with what was going on. She tells him to get out of her house, but that’s not what he hears. All he hears is where the sound comes from. He hears how unsure she seems, as though she can’t make up her mind about whether or not she really hates him, like she’d made it seem before. But he doesn’t have time to think about that. Just his plan - just the future. He’ll make her understand, he knows he can do it. When he smiles like this, his laugh lines look like paper cuts.

          It seems so childish. But that’s fine! It’s okay! She’ll come out. Or she’ll be dragged. He’d told her already once - to make an omelette...yadda yadda.

             -- All is forgiven, baby. Come on out and get dressed - you’re my date for the pep rally tonight. ”

Because of course she didn’t mean it. With the break up - no, they’re meant to be. The two of them, forever - or at least as long as they last, ridding the world of the shitheads who tear down others to elevate themselves. Two fireworks, lit, fuses intertwined until the second they go up in a shower of flame and sparks and heat. She’s saying something, but he can’t really hear - her words don’t reach him completely, just bounce off his consciousness as he pushes forward, fingers hurriedly fumbling around in pockets. He has to show her!

          TOGETHER.

          Words are in his head and they mix in their way down to his mouth. Everything scrambled - but it’s okay! He’ll explain. He has to go through it all, so she can see it from his perspective. So she can feel it like he felt it when she chucked him out like he was trash. Like he was nothing. Like she’d stepped into the home they’d built together and just went and blew herself up like nothing mattered and like all the work they’d put into surviving was for naught and like she never even really loved him. For that, she should be dead she should have killed herself or he should have drug her to hell himself because who does that to a person? Who can abandon them like that? Who can treat someone so lost and afraid and cold and broken like that? Like they never really knew him? You? Knew you? Is that who she really is? BUT! BUT BUT! She did know him. From the second they met she’d seen him past all the papery skin and the hurt and the distance and sought him out. She did, he had to believe that he’s here and she’s just through the door just playing a little game and she’ll be so impressed to learn that it hit him like a flash - WHAT IF HIGH SCHOOL WENT AWAY INSTEAD? “ Those assholes are the key!! They’re keeping you away from me!! ” Somewhere along the line it stopped being about being the bigger person. Somewhere it stopped being about the nameless kids with forgettable faces in dozens of hallways across the country, shoved into lockets and spat on like they were dirt. Somewhere it stopped being about the morality, and fighting for a victory for once, and showing the asshole’s who’s boss. Somewhere, they stopped being people. Somewhere, they were just the thing keeping him from her. They made her blind, messed up her mind.

             -- But I can set you free !! ”

          But I love you! He’d pled, voice like the tinkling of broken glass when it makes its impact with the floor. And all she’d done was look at him like he was...crazy. Even worse - like he was some monster, and she was afraid of him. Afraid of what he’d done. And he’d let himself believe she was different from all the people who deserve to die. She left him and that thought alone had been enough to make him fall apart. With nowhere else to turn, no one to go to, he’d punched the wall - yelling like he does now, lungs quivering with the effort and aching with how fast the exhales come ( BAM! BAM! BAM! ).

          Talk about a killer heartbreak.

             -- Then I found you changed my heart and set loose all that truthful shit inside! And so I built a bomb - tonight our school is Vietnam! Let’s guarantee they’ll never see their senior prom!”

          Maybe prom night, maybe dancing. She’d worried so much about the little things, never the big picture. Even so, he wishes he could see her eyes now, a palm pressing to the smooth wood of the closet door, words rapid-fire rattling against the surface as he twists the handle, desperate, needy to see her, to make sure he’s convincing her of the truth. She’s scared, and it’s okay, he used to be that way, but that doesn’t matter - that doesn’t matter as long as she’s there. As long as she can hold him at the end of the day.

          We, the students of Westerburg High, will die. Our burned bodies may finally get through to you - your society churns out slaves and blanks. No thanks. Signed, the students of Westerburg High. Goodbye.

          Well, that’s not quite Moby Dick. But it’s close enough.

          She can’t leave him like this. He won’t let her. What they’ve started - it’s real. Not when so much soil has been unearthed to bury bodies. Not when they’ve come so far and sacrificed. He can’t do it by himself - he won’t march into their own perfectly crafted sanctuary alone. He’s been alone too long. Far too long.

             -- I was meant to be yours! We were meant to be one! I can’t make this alone! Finish what we’ve begun! You were meant to be mine! I am all that you need!”

          He’d been through ten high schools. They start to get blurry. But this one - this one had been crystal clear, every moment of it. Every second he’d spent building his walls was crushed as soon as he’d seen the way she looked at him, right there in the beginning. Like he was hope - a revolution on wheels, skidding into a city that had no idea what was coming. She’d saved him more than she’ll ever know, saved him from himself when he’d been so sick of the strangers, so sick of the road, so sick of a dad who can somehow manage to keep grinning and sipping at his beer when he smacks around his flesh and blood.

          That voice in his head telling him he’d be better off dead seemed to sound a lot like Big Bud Dean, those days.

             -- You carved open my heart!”

          Don’t open a vein, Jason Dean.

             -- Can’t just leave me to bleed!”

          He loves her.

             -- VERONICA! Open the - ”

          Gentler.

             -- Open the door, please!”

          Frustration.

             -- Veronica! Open the door!”

          Pleading. He loves her.

             -- Veronica, can we not fight anymore please? Can we not fight anymore?”

          Why won’t she open? She’s supposed to understand now. He’s explained it all. Why isn’t she saying anything?

             -- Veronica, sure, you’re scared, I’ve been there. I can set you free!”

          Together.

             -- Veronica, don’t make me come in there! I’m gonna count to three!”

          There’s an awful feeling in his gut. Like he’s treading water, but his stomach keeps on sinking lower and lower, drowning, disappearing into the dark depths below.

             -- One...two...FUCK IT!”

          And the rest of his body drops past the floorboards to join his stomach. Swaying before him - no. No, he can’t. He can’t look, and yet, he can’t tear his eyes away. The world spins around him too quickly and all at once, and he staggers against the doorframe, before the ground comes rushing up to meet trembling knees. The impact is solid, but he doesn’t feel it. He still can’t look away, she --

          She doesn’t look peaceful.

          If their love is god, will she still be able to go to heaven? Can a place like that even exist when cruelty lives so potently sharp and heavy in every human being?

          He’s crying before the shock even completely ebbs. The moisture cascades in droves down the curve of his cheeks, tracing down his jaw and dribbling heavily off his chin. Just moments ago, she’d been alive. She’d done this to escape him - looking at him like a monster. Maybe he is. Maybe this entire thing is fucked beyond his understanding. Maybe what he’s doing is wrong, and Heather, Kurt, and Ram didn’t really deserve this - because she sure as hell didn’t. She did it anyway. She left him. Twice, in just a handful of hours. He’ll never hold her again - not like he had before. He’ll never be able to cup that soft cheek, brush away tears or feel the dimples that are created beneath his palm when she smiles. Never see the warmth reach her eyes again.

          She didn’t even say goodbye.

          No.

          There’s no time to mourn. No time to grieve for what’s been done, no chances to second-guess himself. If this is a war, like he’d said before, then this is by far it’s first casualty. He’ll have time for all of those emotions later - now, someone is heading up the stairs. Someone who will...take care of her. Like he couldn’t. Can’t.

          Legs are still unsteady when he scrambles to his feet again, giving a hard swallow and stealing one last lingering glance at her, before vanishing once again out of the window and into the cold, unforgiving afternoon.

[hermanwatts]

Fantasy New Releases: 22 June, 2019

Finales and debuts, steampunk and litRPG gamerpunk, dungeon lords and adventurous raiders, and the return of the Destroyermen feature in this week’s fantasy new releases.

Bloodwood Forest – Jeremy Fabiano and Cadeen Fabiano

A deadly curse. A life hanging in the balance. One girl holds the key.

Catherine knows one thing: She needs to get stronger. Much stronger.

But is the adventurer’s guild training enough?

When a deadly curse leaves her mother’s life hanging in the balance, Catherine makes a vow to save her.

To keep her promise, she must journey through a mysterious and deadly forest full of hostile spirits and many other dangers.

She has her father’s former adventuring party by her side. But can they teach her to defeat the evil sorcerer sapping her mother’s life force away?

Chainworld (Quantum Assassin #1) – Matt Langley and Paul Ebbs

How do you escape an enemy who can follow you everywhere and everywhen?

Shryke knows you can’t, yet still he runs for his life. There are horrors buried deep in his memory that have been locked away from him by some secret magic. All he knows is that he is the Quantum Assassin, and he stands alone against the end of everything – the lone warrior in a war he can’t hope to win.

The God-Queen’s hunger for destruction will only be sated by the end of Chainworld, a series of impossible constructs held together by science so advanced the inhabitants mistake it for magic. Shryke and those he meets along the way must complete his memory so he can stand against her; otherwise, the Chainworld will be shattered and life as they know it will cease to be.

Everflame: Mystic Wind – Dylan Lee Peters

My name is ARTHUR KAGE and I have a secret: I spent a month in the forbidden forest the other survivors call the NULLWOOD.

ANNA says the Nullwood appeared the night the skies fell, the night we call the Demise. Anna uses a wheelchair, but she’s the strongest person I’ve ever met. She has a secret, too; a friend who is a fox but… is so much more. I help her keep her secret, and she helps me keep mine. The other survivors would kill me if they knew I had been in the Nullwood. Monsters come out of there. Everyone is afraid of that black forest, and fear makes people dangerous

I don’t have many memories of the Demise, except it’s the last I saw my mother. I can’t remember being in the Nullwood either, except for what I see when I dream. In dreams, I see a shadow bear amid the gnarled black trees, and I see a mysterious flame. I don’t know what any of it means but…

I have to find my mother.

I have to go back into the Nullwood.

Evolution (Djinn-Tamer: Bronze League #3) – Derek Alan Siddoway and A. J. Cerna

It’s time to crown a champion. It’s time to evolve.

Jackson Hunt has spent countless hours training his team of monsters and battling rivals as an up and coming Djinn Tamer. All his hard work, the stunning wins, and heartbreaking losses lead to one place: the league playoffs.

But what got Jackson where he is won’t be enough to take him to the top.

As the season draws to a close, Jackson and his friends find themselves far away from the stadiums and crowds, searching for a means to take his Djinn to the next level. The strength he seeks lies in a remote, untamed corner of the world, where myth and legend walk hand in hand.

Competition for the championship will be fierce and the dangers of the wild are only the beginning. Is Jackson ready for the biggest battle of his young career?

Skills will be tested, new powers unleashed. Victory won’t come without a cost.

Forger of Worlds – Simon Archer

Craft your own World. Trade with neighboring Empires. Become a God.

Garrett thought Terra Forma was just a game, but in reality, it was a test created by a devastatingly beautiful ancient goddess to find the most creative man in the universe.

Now, in order to help her defeat an ancient primordial deity, Garrett will have to take a dirt rock and transform it into the heart of the most powerful empire the universe has ever seen.

And to do that, he’ll have to unlock portals to other worlds, harvest their resources, and bring back settlers to his world.

Sure, it’s a nearly impossible task, but at the same time, how often do you get the chance to play god?

The King’s Regret (The Falconbone Chronicles #1) – Philip Ligon

Jason is not a child anymore.

He hasn’t been a child since the King betrayed his family, killing his mother and all his friends in a terrible surprise attack against his home.

He is not a child anymore, but everyone still treats him like he is. His father, his uncle, his sister. And especially Nanny Grace. Jason knows he can help. But he’s stuck washing dishes, tucked away and protected as the heir to the Falconbone family. All he can do is dream of the day when he finishes his ship, The King’s Regret, and flies it to the capital to avenge his family.

When Father flies away to search for allies, a saboteur wrecks havoc on their refuge. Jason is determined to find the traitor, to prove that he can be useful. The last thing he expects is to find his family’s oldest enemy lurking in the shadows of their mountain hideaway.

And for that man to be his only hope for bringing his Father home alive.

Pass of Fire (Destroyermen #14) – Taylor Anderson

After being transported to a strange alternate Earth, Matt Reddy and the crew of the USS Walker have learned desperate times call for desperate measures, in the return to the New York Times bestselling Destroyermen series.

Time is running out for the Grand Human and Lemurian Alliance. The longer they take to prepare for their confrontations with the reptilian Grik, the Holy Dominion, and the League of Tripoli, the stronger their enemies become. Ready or not, they have to move–or the price in blood will break them.

Matt Reddy and his battered old destroyer USS Walker lead the greatest army the humans and their Lemurian allies have ever assembled up the Zambezi toward the ancient Grik capital city. Standing against them is the largest, most dangerous force of Grik yet gathered.

On the far side of the world, General Shinya and his Army of the Sisters are finally prepared for their long-expected assault on the mysterious El Paso del Fuego. Not only is the dreaded Dominion ready and waiting for them; they’ve formed closer, more sinister ties with the fascist League of Tripoli.

Everything is on the line in both complex, grueling campaigns, and the Grand Alliance is stretched to its breaking point. Victory is the only option, whatever the cost, because there can be no second chances.

A Sellsword’s Hope (Seven Virtues #7) – Jacob Peppers

Grinner and his conspiracy to overthrow Perennia have been defeated, but victory came at a high cost. The alliance suffered losses it could ill afford, for the true enemy still lies in Baresh, growing stronger with each day that passes.

Leading the combined armies of three kingdoms, Aaron and his companions march to the city, but even with such a force, even with the power of the Virtues, victory is anything but assured.

For when blades are drawn, when battle begins, the only certainty is blood.

Aaron knows this, just as he knows the terrible odds he faces. Yet, he is not alone. His allies march with him—creatures out of myth and legend, cut-throats and thieves, sailors and smugglers, and the mysterious Akalians who have finally chosen to step out of the shadows and into the light.

But the ancient mage has allies of his own, creatures endowed with speed and strength greater than any man, bereft of any human feeling, including pain. But there is strength in emotion, a power that even the thousand-year-old mage, even creatures out of legend, cannot stand against.

For with emotion comes valor and courage, honor and duty.

With emotion comes hope.

Troll Nation (Rogue Dungeon #3) – James Hunter and eden Hudson

Build. Evolve. Conquer. The dawn of the Troll Nation has begun …

Roark von Graf—former noble and hedge-mage, current mid-level mob in a MMORPG—has taken down the Dungeon Lord of the Cruel Citadel, but the battle has only started.

Lowen, right hand to the Tyrant King, has come to Hearthworld, and he is building an army of his own. Worse, Lowen and company have taken over one of the most powerful dungeons in the game, The Vault of the Radiant Shield. Even as a Jotnar and a newly minted Dungeon Lord, Roark is supremely outclassed and he bloody well knows it. If he’s going to weather what’s to come and topple the Tyrant King, he’ll have to unlock the secrets of the stolen World Stone Pendant, master his new Hexorcist class, form some very unlikely allies, and most important … Grief some heroes. Let the games begin!

Seven Fold Sword: Sovereign (Seven Fold Sword #12) – Jonathan Moeller

The quest of the Seven Swords has been a trap all along.

For the dark elven tyrant known as the Sovereign will use the power of the Swords to ascend to godhood and enslave the world for all time.

And only Ridmark Arban stands in his way…

Fantasy New Releases: 22 June, 2019 published first on https://sixchexus.weebly.com/

[gravedespair]

The Monster in the Mirror

Revised&Edited Previously SL: Something like a Heart to Heart

I’m up here cursing out the man that’s in the mirror I try to shake him but he follows every move I’m going crazy fighting battles with a shadow Dance with the demons cause they play my favorite tune -Dancing With Demons, Palisades

I slowly opened my eyes as sleep released me from its strangling hold. My head had been filled with horrible nightmares, memories from my past and then there were those godawful thoughts that always seemed to find a way to break through all of that mess.

As I carefully pulled myself upright, I noticed with a bit of surprise, that I almost felt normal. The demon that I had drained in that alley way, coupled with my encounter with Mags had been enough to satisfy my hunger for at least a few days. I had been stupid, neglecting my needs because I was so caught up in trying to escape that endless torment that consistently tried to bury me under it’s great weight.

I glanced to my right, taking in the sight of Mags curled up in all of those thick blankets like a cocoon. Her skin was paler than normal surrounded by all of that black and that was cause for concern.

It was possible that I had taken too much when I’d fed. Even vampires had a limit to how much blood they could have drained from their body before things could get dangerous and I hadn’t been in a solid state of mind when things had transpired.

For some reason, I found myself wanting to reach over and brush those stray curls that lay across her cheeks, and those beautiful eyes that were squeezed shut as she sleep, but I refrained.

I couldn’t allow myself to get any more attached the woman than I I already had. A friendship was one thing, but a romantic relationship would only end in torment for us both.

I was a monster, I was a disgusting creature with little care for anything and anyone. It was bad enough that I had allowed our friendship to grow to this level, I couldn’t drag her down into my destiny in Hell.

Turning away from her sleeping form, I slowly made my way out of the bed, before shuffling off into the bathroom.

I wasn’t in my apartment, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know my way around. Mags and I had spent many days and many nights together in her little apartment. Many of those had been dark, depressing times where I lost my shit completely and Mags did everything in her power to put me back together.

Fuck, I owed that woman so much more than I would ever be able to live up to. She had showed me compassion while others had only scowled and turned away. And she had been persistent, a trait I was slowly beginning to realize that I liked.

Still, after all of that pain and all of the goddamn heartbreak, I continued to pull the same shit day in and day out. I just couldn’t make myself stop.

Bypassing the lights, I stepped toward the sink after clicking to door shut softly behind me. I shoved my shaking hand into my pocket and removed my last bag. Dumping half the contents onto the countertop, then I leaned down and quickly made it disappear.

I was utterly disgusting and yet there I was, doing drugs in Maggie’s bathroom. Tainting that pristine white countertop with my nasty little addictions Mags had taken me into her home and still I carried on with my plans.

I knew that I was breaking some unspoken rule, but I couldn’t stop that shaking in my hands or that roll in my stomach that made me want to vomit.

I had definitely fucked up last night. I’d almost made it three days sober, but then I snapped. Like I always did. Relapsing back into that same, endless routine.

As I tilted my head back with a groan, the sound of the bathroom door creaking open nearly sent me into a panic.

“Asher? What the hell are you doing?” Mags rushed in, her eyes immediately landing on the small bag with the remaining white power, “Seriously? Asher, this has got to stop.” Those small hands reached up to touch my face and I jerked back. “You’re color was finally returning to normal, and those circles under your eyes were fading. Asher, when was the last time you really fed? Like last night. I can see the difference in you when you’re properly fed and focused. Asher, you have got to stop using that shit. There are ways to strengthen your shields, but the more of that shit you use, the more trauma you are inflicting on your magic.”

Shame washed over me and I hung my head, “I know it needs to stop Mags, but it’s the only thing that makes any of this even somewhat tolerable. The things that I see, the conversations in my head, all of that endless energy, and that constant pull of the dead.” I should have stopped before I got way ahead of myself, but for some reason I couldn’t keep the words from coming out of my mouth, “I feel everything, all of the time Mags. It never ends and my sleep is filled with monstrous nightmares and premonitions of each death before it happens.”

I did stop then, holding out the hand with the offending bag. Mags grabbed it, promptly popping the little zipper before flushing the power down the toilet, “I’ve been begging you for years now Asher, I wish you’d just talk to Slade. He knows more about magic than most, if anything, he can teach you to drown it all out.”

I shook my head as I tried not to mourn the loss of the last of my stash. It wasn’t like it would be hard to acquire more, but with the way Mags had become so serious, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to be leaving her house for a few days.

“It’s not that simple, Mags,” I scrubbed my hands down my face with a frustrated sigh, “I am connected to all that are living and all that are dying. I know when each person’s time is going to come. My shields aren’t strong enough to block it all out. I’ve tried for years to strengthen them, but it’s been to no avail.

Maggie took a deep breath as she crossed her arms over her chest and I couldn’t help but notice that she was looking a bit hungry herself, giving me even more reason to believe that I had been entirely to greedy with what she had offered.

“Come here,” I demanded gently, reaching my arms out so that she could step into my embrace. She hesitated briefly, but then took those few steps and wrapped her arms around my waist.

“I worry about you Asher, constantly.” Her words were muffled by my shirt as she pressed her face into my check, “I can’t get that night out of my head, it haunts my dreams. I know that you didn’t choose this roll, but sometimes Fate can be cruel. You deserve happiness Asher…”

“There’s no place in my endless existence for happiness, Mags. I’ve been doomed to an eternity of misery.” I hated the sound of sadness, of longing in my voice as I rubbed slow circles across her back.

After a few moments of silence, I lifted one hand, placing my fingers under Maggie’s chin, tilting her face up toward me, “Why don’t I make you breakfast and get you something a little more substantial to go with?”

Before she responded, a low growl sounded from her stomach, causing a small smile to turn up the edges of my lips, “Yep, I thought so.” With that, I scooped her into my arms and carried her into the kitchen where I carefully placed her on top of one of the bar stools at her little kitchen island.

Turning toward the cabinets, I pulled open the wooden doors above the sink, pulling out a squat glass. I then proceeded to remove my pocket knife from my jeans, flipping the blade open before dragging the sharp metal across the inside of my wrist. I filled the glass with about three inches of my blood before turning to hand the glass to Maggie, “You drink, while I cook.”

Maggie made no sounds of protest as she accepted the glass, promptly bringing it to her lips. I turned back toward the cabinets and became rummaging around for all that I would need to whip up some pancakes, bacon and eggs. Maggie needed real food too, my feeding from her had taken a lot out of her and I was not going to let her suffer for helping me.

“Why do you keep running from yourself?” Maggie’s soft voice carried through her small kitchen, and as her words reached my ears, I felt a shiver roll down my spine, but before I could open my mouth and make an attempt to change the subject, Maggie continued on, curiosity thick in her tone, “You are the Grim Reaper, Desth himself. I get that that’s a whole lot of frickin’ responsibility, but why not just embrace yourself for who you are? You’re miserable, and constantly in pain. You try so hard to hide it, but Asher, I can see it in your eyes.” Mags paused and took a sip from her glass.

I was having a hard time wrapping my head around the words that were coming out of her mouth. One of Maggie’s most admirable traits was her bluntness and lack of fear when it came to speaking her mind. That woman held nothing back.

But it was difficult to digest that kind of naked truth when it was directed at you. I was my own worst enemy and for years, I had refused to confront my demons. Mags was currently airing out my dirty laundry and it was making me anxious.

“You’re stronger than this Asher, I know you are. I also know that sometimes, you have to face the monster in the mirror,” Mags took a deep breath as she lifted that glass to her lips once more, downing what remained at the bottom.

I started staking pancakes as I mulled her honest words over in my brain. I wasn’t sure how to respond to the truths that Mags had spoken. Once the pancakes were finished, I quickly scrambled some eggs, lopping them onto a plate before picking up the pancake stack as well. I suddenly wasn’t in the mood to fry up bacon, besides, my appetite for real for food had seemed to abandoned me.

Settling myself in the seat besides Mags, I took a deep breath as I dropped my head into my hands, “Keeping myself fed doesn’t keep the voices out. It doesn’t stop the dreams. Even when my shields are at their strongest, I can’t turn it off. I’ve only been able to find one escape and that’s something I just can’t seem to let go of. It never fucking stops. My headspace isn’t my own Mags, and I told you earlier, I’m connected to every living and dying being.”

I forced myself to stop talking, revealing more of myself than I should have. There were just some things other people didn’t need to know and besides, the last thing I needed was for Mags to think that I was going to try something extra stupid.

But when Mags took too long to say something, I found more words just spilling out of my mouth.

“And as for facing the monster in the mirror, we battle every day. I can’t escape that monster because that monster is me and no amount of repenting will ever relieve of me my sins. My curse is that I cannot die, so no amount of any substance is going to do the job,” I paused, taking a deep breath as I refused to look up at those blue eyes I knew were watching me with wild intensity, “I’m stuck in slavery to those who rule the Underworld. I have my own horde of Reapers that collect, and answer to me. I rule a part of a domain I never thought that I’d find myself in. There is no embracing what I am and there is no escaping what I am, not until the next Grimm is born. My existence is not my own, so why don’t I deserve just the slightest bit of peace?”

We sat in silence for a moment, me trying to collect myself and realize what I had just put out on the table. I had never wanted to drag Mags into my mess, not any further than she’d already become involved.

None of this was fair to her. Mags was a kind hearted woman who had been battling her own demons, even if she’d never shared her story. I wasn’t eager to talk about my past or even my current, and there was no way that I would pry into that part of her personal life.

“You know,”

I finally looked up, bracing myself for whatever she was about to throw my way.

“What’s up?” I asked softly, feeling rather defeated.

Mags looked over at me, those blue eyes darkened by sadness as she seemed to think her words over before she spoke, her voice soft, “I didn’t choose this life either. In fact, I was kidnapped one night and sold into vampire slavery.” She took a deep breath and ducked that gaze some, “Long story short, the night I finally made my escape, I was attacked and left for dead. I woke up in an abandoned crypt three days after the incident. I was fortunate enough to find Slade. He taught me that being vampire, and being different really weren’t bad things. Unfortunately, with all of our uniqueness comes a struggle to gain control.”

Mags reached out and placed her hand over mine, causing my eyes to drop, “You just need someone to show you how to harness what you have and build your shields. It doesn’t have to be all bad, Asher. I mean, look at me and Jackie, your other favorite bartender. That poor woman has been through hell and back and she’s still here living life the best that she can.”

I stood suddenly, my skin prickling with a spark of electricity as I felt my anger rear its ugly head. I wasn’t upset with Mags, I was upset with myself.

“I’ve got to go Mags. I’m sorry, but I’ve really, really got to go,” I didn’t give her the chance to protest as I vanished.

EndSL