#I am a horror fiend with a lot of fear in my heart

[inside-the-tardis]

Time Jumps

From an emotional standpoint, as far as I recall and wish to document, there has been discord. Romantic relationship is restricting, it's selfish and possessive and has created more bad energy for me than good. Even the energy we surrounded ourselves with were always shadowed. True reconciliation happens in isolation together. Other events were merely for show and full of strife eye contact. The hobbies and habits we bonded over were of vice and sin. But in our hearts we were children, trying each best new thing. My favourtie of course was the motorbike, but there were many other things to admire. I must reiterate my toxic trait of not letting go and fear of being alone & insufferable.

and with you, it has always been a state of flux. A push or a pull. A beginning with many delays and hardships. But as I struggled to piece together much of what happened when we last met (two years this Hallows eve) as I know you have too. But I like to think that secretly on some days I have surprised yo u too and instead of only asking from you, I have also given you love and compassion, and a lot of good things to remember me by, though now I can only remember the sorrow and sadmoments. I still think of you fondly and reminicese. I hope your life is full, and I admire your companionship as a soul on a journey but you couldn't help churn my soul. I was still reeling from the loss of a grieved one when I met someone else and I went in with all my pre conceievd notions. It should have been differnt as life warned me multiple times that it was different now, but we take life as it comes, laid-back and easy, one thing I will not regret, my cluelessness and maybe ignorance? It would not have helped make me that girl I am today. I needed closure however, and his soul and God have always given me in kind. I never could forget and I never will. What happened after was a year long? or was it longer I forget now delusionship, where I coped with loss and gave a brief insight into my terrible psyche. Left loose, it was dangerous to even get drunk. The horrors of being perceievd for who you really are. But I persevered adn I'm glad I did. Many substances came in and paved the way and life was alright, it was easy and it held its own hardships. I may have come on too strongly and applied home rules for an away game. I had no business doing that. The delusionship ended, I had brief moments of clarity and conscious thought, but the aftermath seeped into my life like a wet dirty rug. My mindset at any point was not fruitful or compliant. I came out of the fever dream hungry, weak, maybe knowing better, with a lot of renewed heartache and so much stuff to throw away. Also had different ideas about my pre notions, which became neo notions but were still quite toxic.

Paranoia and anxiey also became normal. I had bursts of energy and productivity but only timed properly so to make no difference to my actual lifestyle. I was dealing with loss of friends, loss of family, loss of true connection, loss of home, loss of lovers and loss of time.

Today , I'm still dealing with that loss. I have grown around it but it still very much lives inside me. I have weird ways of dealing with trauma. I starve myself, I isolate myself, get copiusly drunk and high. Will stay unmoved for days, rot in bed, eat nothing, drink nothing, be a degenerate fiend. Tonight I rise from the filth. I sign out of Spotify and Amazon Prime, and I recognize my own insufferability and others' shortcomings too. I live and let live, in the true sense, and I don't allowthe past to bog me down. I dont believe in looking behind because that is how you crash into things. A forward approach starting today from this moment to always make it a point to look towards the future or working in the present. Working towards your hobbies, your needs and your aesthetics. All of which should be fulfilled. Nothing less shall suffice.

[enkelimagnus]

A Castle in the Forest

Percy x Vex’ahlia, Chapter 12, 3016 words,

A Modern AU, in which Vex is a park ranger taking over the Alabaster Sierras post, and finds much more than she bargained for.

Read on AO3

This chapter has some traumatic responses to perceived threat, please be careful.

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When Vex makes it back to the cabin, Vax is pacing around the main room. The bow’s box is open on the floor, the gorgeous weapon on display and Vex can’t help but stare at it for a second before she looks back at her brother.

She hasn’t been gone for that long, but enough to piss him off, it seems. Too bad. She can’t deal with this right now, she needs him for other issues and those need to come before whatever his problem is. She needs to be selfish, she needs him to be selfless so she can rage against others before he rages against her.

She’s still tittering on the edge of the folder in her hand. Her mind is still filled with memories of Saundor and the fire and the parties. She feels like her scars are itching. They probably aren’t.

Vax’s eyes fall on her where she’s standing in the entrance of the cabin. She feels like a doe shaking at the edge of the woods, staring at a hiker wondering whether they are a hunter. It’s her brother. Why is she so anxious suddenly?

Maybe it’s the look in his eyes. It’s the look from his first visit in Shademurk, it’s the look from the first time she was asked to be a lady, it’s the quiet fury he only ever seems to feel when it comes to her. Never for himself. Always for her. Because of her.

“Vex,” he starts but she shakes her head.

“Please,” she cuts him before he can add anything. Her voice is firmer than she thought it would be. She feels so fucking shaky.

He seems taken aback from that and the look in his eyes grows. She’s tired and furious and hurt too and she doesn’t want to deal with this. She really fucking doesn’t. And he’s going to confront her, because of course he will. He’s never let her run away from the hard things.

“Please what?” Vax asks, crossing his arms.

He’s so mad. The door is unlocked though. That’s good. She’s between him and it, and it will be okay, and… he’s not going to hurt her. Gods, Vex. What is she doing? What is she thinking? He would never. He loves her. As if that has stopped others before. She wills her mind to stop talking now.

“I’m not…” She shakes her head. “Please don’t.”

Vax shakes with annoyance. “You can’t run away from it, Vex.” He sounds tired now, more than angry. Maybe she’s not able to read him properly today. That’s bad.

“I know,” she snaps back.

She can’t run away from anything ever. No matter how far she goes, it will find her. They will find her. Syldor and Saundor.

Vax points at the bow. “Where did you get it?”

Vex sighs a little, exhales. He doesn’t seem that aggressive and her mind is playing games with her. She’s choked up and ready to run at a moment’s notice.

“You know where,” she replies.

There is no way that he missed it. It stood in the center of Saundor’s home like its heart. It stood on a pedestal, and she’d not been allowed to touch it, or try it. Now it’s hers. But she barely touches it, and hasn’t tried it. Saundor had made sure she revered it appropriately, the way she revered him.

“Fine,” Vax huffs. “Keep it to yourself.”

Vex crosses her arms too. The folder feels heavy in her hand. Lead, pulling her away from the surface. She doesn’t like when Vax is like this. But at the same time, she so rarely sees him like this. Usually, everything falls off of him like water off a duck’s back. Usually, nothing ever gets to him. She hasn’t seen him show so much… distress in a really, really long time.

“It’s just a fucking bow. Why do you care so much?” She asks defensively.

It’s hypocritical and she knows it. She’s the one who is terrified of touching it, just in case it’s a beacon that will bring Saundor back to her. She’s the one who acts as if it’s either a sacred relic or a cursed horror. She’s the one that cares too much. He’s just asking questions.

“I don’t like the idea that you have pieces of him lying around like this. I wish you would move on.”

How can she move on? How can she move on when the fire burned her skin and scarred it irreparably, when his words burned her mind and scarred it irreparably, when everything that happened during those months and years have borrowed under her skin like a small poisonous insect, ready to sting but also to lay eggs that threaten to come out and destroy her?

She walks through life on the edge of breaking, a broken mirror stitched back together by an unsure hand with ugly red tape.

“It’s just a bow,” Vex repeats. She can’t bring herself to sound mad anymore.

Vax shakes his head. “If it’s just a bow, why don’t you use it? It’s much better quality than the one you have now. Why don’t you use it?”

Vex opens her mouth and closes it again. She has a lot of answers to that question. Because it’s beautiful and rare and probably worth more money than her life is and if she uses it, she will break it. There will be scuffs and marks of use that she doesn’t want to add. Because it’s Saundor’s and she’s scared of it. Because she doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t deserve to wield such a beautiful bow. She’s not a fey, or a ruler, or even a full-blooded elf. She’s a small mortal thing and she doesn’t deserve to wield the Wrath of the Fey Warden.

“Fuck, Vex,” Vax huffs, looking away, even turning away from her.

She’s not going to succeed in making this stop if she doesn’t talk. He’s just going to keep getting mad at her, and she can’t have that. She knows, deep down, that he’s not going to hurt her. But the last few years are keeping her in that state of fear she can’t get out of.

“It’s an Archfey’s weapon,” she starts slowly. “I’m barely even an elf.”

The look Vax sends her makes her want to puke. He looks at her like she’s a broken, pathetic little thing and she’s nauseous suddenly. She should have yelled at him, she should have insulted him. She shouldn’t have told him this.

“I don’t think it cares. It’s just a bow,” Vax answers, in a voice so soft and sweet Vex really starts considering punching him to make him go back to the anger.

The anger makes her want to run away and hide, but that soft, soft pity is even worse. It speaks of all the things she’s desperately trying not to be. Of the broken little girl she is, even if she tries to be strong.

“Everyone I have ever loved has cared.”

Vax is silent for a moment. It seems to last forever and she can’t make herself look back at him. She can’t make herself see how he’s looking at her. It’s probably going to be the soft pity again.

She doesn’t see why the bow would want her to wield it. It’s the kind of weapon imbued with enough magic that it can get picky about its wielder, the kind of weapon that chooses its archer no matter what the archer wants. It’s been the bow of Lord Saundor the Forsaken for a millennium, or more. Why would it want her?

She’s small, she’s weak, she’s a half-elf and a bastard, she’s nothing.

“That’s not true, Vex, and you know it,” Vax says after a moment. He’s firm and simmering with anger again. She both dreads and welcomes the anxiety his anger brings. At least it’s not the pity.

“I know, but it doesn’t matter,” she replies. “I know I’m out of Shademurk, but it’s like he’s hiding around every corner of Whitestone, waiting to take his revenge on me. I still smell of him, Vax. All I am is the thing he made me. I can’t escape it!”

She feels like she’s drowning. The file with the photos are still in her hand. The fiend’s words: “You smell like Fey” still resound in her head. The scars will forever be on her skin, and in her mind, and she’s afraid of her own twin so much she’s wondering how to please him to appease his anger, how to make him stop, what she can give of herself for him to stop.

“There are so many things I know,” she continues. “That I know I know. Consciously, I’m aware that he can’t find me here, that I’m safe, that you love me no matter my blood, that I’m skilled, that I’m good at my job, that this is not all my fault.” There are tears on her face and she’s hiccuping now, and she doesn’t even know when she started crying. “I know,” her voice rises in the words. “But it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change how I feel.”

Vax’ face is softer when he pulls her in his arms, holds her to him like he has so many times. He presses a kiss into her hair and when Vex inhales, he smells like home. He smells like the soap they use in Syngorn, with the pressed flowers that made her want to help with the laundry even if it was supposedly not a dignified activity for a young lady of her standing. He smells like the firewood and the furs, like hide and the dyes that make that deep dark color he prefers to wear.

“I’m scared,” Vax whispers into her hair. “I’m scared of losing you.”

Vex can’t control her sobs at that. She buries her face in his shoulder so her tears will be absorbed by his clothing. She wishes she could disappear in this moment, in his arms. She wishes the world would stop existing outside of the cabin.

“Forget about the bow. Hide it forever, I don’t care. I just want you to be okay. And I can tell you’re not. And I don’t know how to fix it.”

Vex moves back for a little, not answering anything to that. She puts the file on the table next to them and opens it. Vax moves in closer to look at the pictures and his arms tighten their grip on her a little as he sees the photos of her and Saundor.

“I can’t escape,” Vex starts again. “I thought… I thought I could erase him.”

“Where do these come from?” Vax asks, quiet anger back in his voice, but right now, it’s not directed at her.

She tells him about the meeting she just crashed, about the information they have, about the castle in the forest and Percival de Rolo. About Cassandra, and how she’s desperate to save her brother, so much so that she’ll let people walk into traps and let people die to make sure no one knows about the fiend she’s hiding.

They come back to the reports about the fire, to the pictures of her and Saundor. They’re both sitting now, Vex has Trinket on her lap, Vax has stopped holding her to him but he hasn’t stopped being by her side.

“I didn’t think there would be pictures,” Vex whispers. “I didn’t… I hoped no one in the Material Plane would ever see these memories. I thought… I thought I was safe from them. But I can’t erase this. This is evidence, and I can’t undo it.”

Vax nods quietly. “I see.”

“How can I forget, when the world won’t stop reminding me?”

She sounds so tired and small. And that’s how she feels suddenly. Like this giant mass of pain and memories is after her and all she can see is its shadow on the ground, but the shadow completely swallows her already.

Vax swallows. “Maybe you’re not supposed to forget.”

Vex huffs loudly, looking at him. “Then what?”

“I think you’re supposed to… live with it.”

“The way we’re living with what Syldor did to us?” she asks, a bit defiant.

“Better, hopefully?” Vax replies, looking up at her. He has a little wry smile on, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Now that she thinks about it, Vax hasn’t been this animated, with his pacing and worry and anger, in a long time. It was as if he was awake for a moment, but now he’s back to saying those things and pretending like everything is rolling off of him like it doesn’t touch him.

She reaches for him. “Are you okay?” She asks. It’s nothing more than a whisper. It feels wrong to ask these things louder.

Vax stares at the table for a long moment before he sighs deeply. “I don’t think so.”

Vex swallows. She doesn’t know how to help him. She doesn’t know who to ask. She’s pretty sure there is no one around Whitestone that can help with mental health, but maybe she should ask the priests. They betrayed her, yes. But they’re the only people she knows here.

“Have you told anyone?” She mostly means to ask if he’s told Gilmore.

Vax shakes his head tiredly. “No. I don’t think there is anyone to tell. Gilmore’s… miles away. And you have way too much on your plate already.”

He’s right. Gilmore can’t really help from Westrunn. Vex doesn’t even know how to help herself.

“You can tell me about it,” Vex points out. “Anyway. We can… You’re helping me a lot; you’re helping me carry a lot of my burden. I can help with yours.”

Vax smiles a little. It’s a bare hint of something but it feels more genuine than anything she’s seen on his face in a really long time.

“Not right now,” he mutters. “I need a little time to… put words on this whole thing.”

Vex nods in understanding. She gets that. Words are so incredibly hard to find.

“I love you,” she says softly.

Vax relaxes and reaches to pull her close. It’s awkward with Trinket in the middle and it lasts for a second but it’s a good, wonderful second.

“I love you too.”

They start moving a little, tidying around. Vex puts the bow back under the bed, and even if Vax looks like he’s about to say something, he doesn’t. He understands now. Perhaps not the entire story, but enough. Enough so he lets her do this at her pace. And she’s not ready for the bow just yet.

Now that Vax knows all about what’s going on, she can share her plans, or whatever there is that looks like a plan.

She needs to help this little gang of plotters to get rid of the fiend. She has no idea where to even start with that plan, but she knows… she knows she wants to avoid killing the host. Whoever this Percival guy is, no matter how he came across the demon in the first place, it seems he was the one responsible for her escape. It seems he was fighting for control, to let her go. She’s planning to try to honor the life debt she owes him now.

But there’s also the issue of his weapon, and what it did to her. It was unlike anything she’d ever come across. The pain was searing, the shot very clear and it can probably kill with a horrifying ease. She needs to know what it is, and how to make sure it won’t hurt anyone else.

It’s easy to disarm swords and arrows, but this thing? She doesn’t have a clue what it looks like. She just knows its noise. And the pain and destruction it caused. She was lucky to at least be able to give herself a small healing spell. She could have bled out.

If it comes to it, she’ll need to take the fiend and the host down. She can’t let whatever that weapon is exist in the world.

Vex guesses that’s somewhat part of her ranger job. All of the rangers of the TWC are responsible for a park, but if you put all of these outposts together, the TWC is responsible for the entire continent of Tal’Dorei. They’re here to keep it safe.

In the absence of the Grey Hunt, in the absence of anyone that has the authority to take care of this, it falls down on Vex. It’s too big of a responsibility, to make sure this sort of weapon doesn’t get out, to make sure this incredibly powerful fiend is taken care of, but she needs to do her job correctly.

Yesterday, her own pain and anger led her to run into the mouth of the beast unprepared. She won’t make that mistake again. Next time, she’ll come with healing potions and all her spells at the ready, with her weapons too. Next time, she’ll be ready for the monster. Next time, she won’t let it get into her head.

She texts Pike to ask when the next meeting is going to be. She has questions to ask, and she’s bringing Vax. It’s non-negotiable. They need her, and she needs Vax. She’s going to take control of this whole operation now, no matter what they tell her.

The next meeting is scheduled in three days, when the priests and Cassandra are all free.

Vax and Vex go to bed curled up in each other, as they have many nights since they were born. The fire crackles away next to them, the bear cub snoozes by the bed, and they have each other.

Strangely, Vex sleeps much easier than she has the last few nights. She’s not feeling better per se, but having talked to Vax, knowing they are both in a bad place… It makes it easier to be in this bad place.

As long as they have each other, they can get through anything. Right?

[arc852]

Fairytale

(A leftover prompt from @hiddendreamer67‘s Inktober prompts)

Warnings: Dead animal, blood, fear, and mentions of eating someone

Summary: Roman, about be crowned King, suddenly gets cursed by his brother and winds up wandering through a forest at only a few inches tall. It’s there he meets the Big Bad Wolf.

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 Roman...honestly should have expected this.

 Really, it made complete sense for his witch of a brother to come back on his coronation day and do something to mess it up. Roman had been hit with a spell and now here he was. Trapped in the middle of a forest and no more than a few inches tall.

 Roman gripped his sword tight, glancing around at every instance. He couldn’t drop his guard. Not when he was so small and, he loathed to say, helpless. No, he needed to stay vigilant and find his way back to his castle and to his court sorcerer Logan. He’d then turn Roman back to normal and Roman could defeat his brother once and for all. He would then finally take the crown and lead his kingdom into a new golden age.

 Yes, it was a perfect plan.

 ...If Roman can get out of this forest, that is. And preferably, alive.

 He continued to walk, keeping his eyes peeled when suddenly, he noticed something farther down that...didn’t look like a tree. He picked up his pace, soon coming to a large wooden cabin. Well, large to him anyway. He had to remember that it was actually normal-sized and he was the one who was different. Either way, he scanned it suspiciously. What was a cabin doing in the middle of the woods anyway? It could be bad news.

 But on the other hand, Roman didn’t really have another choice, did he? He could continue to walk through this forest, hoping he found his way. Or, he could check out this cabin and hope whoever lived here was willing to help him out.

 Letting out a long sigh, Roman started walking around the perimeter, trying to find a way in. After turning the corner, he found a small crack in the wood. Probably made by some mouse or rat. Hopefully, whatever it was, was already long gone or Roman could have another problem on his hands.

 Roman decided to take the chance and squeezed through the hole, making his way through the small tunnel. Eventually, he came out on the other side, sticking close to the wall as he looked around. He didn’t...see anyone. Nor did he hear anything yet. And it wasn’t too late, whoever lived here shouldn’t be asleep yet. It would be just his luck though, if this place turned out to be abandoned.

 He walked in a little farther, glancing down the hallway. The further he went, the further he could see that at least this place looked lived in. It was furnished and there were belongings scattered across the ground and on the tables and such. Maybe the person was out then?

 Roman continued walking until he was in the living room area of the house. Where the front door appeared to be as well. He still wasn’t seeing anybody, which probably meant he would have to wait-

 Roman froze and his head snapped over to the door. The door was opening and a sudden spike of primal fear made Roman not want to be seen like this. Not without getting a read on this person first. He ran underneath a chair, hiding behind one of its legs.

 He watched from there as the door opened completely and a large figure stepped inside. It was hard for Roman to remember he was shrunk and this wasn’t a giant currently walking into this place. 

 From what he could see, the giant was a man, probably Roman’s age. What really set him off though was the tail, ears and very sharp claws. Roman’s eyes widened. Werewolf. He was in the house of a werewolf. 

 And now the cabin in the woods made sense. This isn't some normal run of the mill werewolf. Roman should have known. This was the Big Bad Wolf. The very same creature that had scared off poor little red and had eaten all of Peter’s village sheep.

 Roman had to get out of here. There was no way he could ask this creature for help. He’d be eaten on the spot. Which, now that he thought about it, is probably exactly what his brother wanted. Oh, he was going to kill Remus once he got out of this.

 If he made it out of this, that is.

 No, he had to. He had a kingdom that depended on him. He could do this. He just had to sneak back to that hole in the wall and then he’d be home free. But not know, the wolf would surely see him if he tried it now. No, he would have to wait for his chance.

 He watched the werewolf walk into the house, setting down a bloodied and dead rabbit on his counter. Roman made a face of disgust at it before looking away, drawing his attention back to the wolf. Who seemed to be about to cut into the rabbit, before he froze. Roman felt his heart rate pick up as he lifted his head and started to sniff. The wolf could smell him. Of course, of course, he should have known the wolf could do that. He needed to get out of there. Now.

 Roman glanced away from the wolf and to where the hole was. If he ran and the wolf didn’t immediately see him, he could just make it. It was his only chance, if he stayed here he would be a sitting...he glanced over towards the counter, feeling sick all over again...rabbit.

 He shook his fears away and readied himself, taking his sword back out. He took a deep breath, his grip tightening on his sword so much so that his knuckles turned white. He counted down from three in his head before springing into action. He didn’t even look back at the wolf, just zoning in on the hole in the wall and hoping, praying that he could just make it-!

 Something grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back, lifting him up in the air. Roman screamed and struggled before remembering his sword. He held it upwards before striking at the fingers that held him.

 “Ah! Son of a-!” He heard the wolf curse before the fingers let go and Roman started falling towards the floor. He shut his eyes and braced for impact...but it didn’t come. Not in the way he expected, anyway. He found himself hitting something but it was definitely not the floor. It was a lot softer.

 He looked down and realized with horror it was the wolf’s hand. 

 “That was incredibly stupid of you.” The wolf growled and Roman gulped as he turned to look up, seeing the giant wolf glaring at him. He went to stab at the wolf again but the wolf’s other hand came out and took it away from him.

 “Hey!” Roman yelled, but cowered when another glare was shot at him. No, he couldn’t show weakness. He shook his head and glared right back. “Unhand me, fiend! And give me my sword back!”

 The wolf scoffed. “Uh, yeah no, not going to happen. I don’t really feel like getting stabbed again, thanks.” Roman was suddenly turned over in the hand, causing Roman to yelp. “What...are you, anyway? And, most importantly, what are you doing in my home?”

 Roman took a deep breath. He might as well explain himself, either way, he was going to be eaten. “I...I am the Prince of the Sanders Kingdom. I was shrunk and teleported here by my brother and I was...I was hoping whoever lived here could help me.” Roman looked down, knowing that wouldn’t be the case.

 The wolf hummed. “Huh, I thought I recognized you. Roman, right?” The wolf said casually but Roman sucked in a breath at the sound of his name. 

 He nodded. “Y-Yes, that is me.”

 “Virgil.” The wolf introduced. Roman didn’t know why but he simply nodded in greeting. Ugh, the suspense was killing him. Roman couldn’t take it anymore.

 “Look, Virgil. I know how this ends. Can you just...just get it over with already?” Roman wished he could put up more of a fight but...even with his sword he was useless. If this wolf really did want to eat him, he would be eaten. And Roman hated it.

 Virgil raised an eyebrow but despite the wolf trying to appear confused, Roman could see the mischievous glint in his eyes. “Get what over with?”

 The wolf was going to make him say it. Fantastic. “Eating me? You know, as the big bad wolf does.”

 Virgil stared at him and Roman stared back. They were like that for a few seconds before Virgil smirked. “Heh, you would be a nice little snack.” Roman felt a shiver run down his spine, especially as one of Virgil’s claws prodded him in the stomach. “But I have no intention of eating you.”

 Roman blinked, taken aback. “You...don’t?”

 “Nah,” Virgil answered, turning to fall into one of his chairs. He kicked his feet up as he stared down at Roman. “Despite what your kind seem to think, I don’t care much for humans as a meal.” Virgil paused. “Usually.” He said with a shrug.

 “Oh.” Roman didn’t like the sound of that ‘usually’ but he couldn’t focus on that right now. The wolf wasn’t going to eat him and that was good enough for Roman at the moment. However, that did beg the question... “So...what are you going to do with me then?”

 Virgil shrugged. “I don’t know. You said you needed help getting back home?” Roman nodded. “I guess I could help you. I mean, I’m not doing anything else right now.”

 Roman perked up, shifting on the hand he was still on. “Really? You mean it? You’ll...help me?”

 “Sure, why not? But…” Virgil paused, neutral expression turning into another smirk. This one was open enough for Roman to see his sharp canines. “If I do this...I want a little favor.”

 Roman blinked. “A...favor?” That didn’t sound good. “What kind of favor?

 Virgil shrugged. “Does it matter? You want to get home, don’t you? And all I want in exchange is a small favor, one that surely the future king of the kingdom can give to me. Right?”

 Roman bit his lip. “...R-Right.” Surely nothing the wolf could ask for would be as bad as being stuck like this, right? Besides...he didn’t really have much of a choice. So, he nodded. “Deal.”

[cotharach]

DID... DID YOU JUST PUNCH GREAT FUNKLE GATOR?!?

starter for @cashandaxes

Reptilian creatures bursting with crest energy, long necked and ancient, lurking in the darkest depths of Fodlan— why, Flayn feels almost homesick! Strange it may be to see this 4′11 maiden march through marshes and swim through swamps, but the resolve housed in the emerald flames of her gaze says all;; she was not here to play around.

Her skirt tied up to her knees and her boots thoroughly flooded, she wades through the slushy, muddy waters eagerly, whispering the nothings of a long dead language as she readies herself for what might be the closest thing to a family reunion she’s had in centuries.

( yet as she treads, her heart cannot help but sink ; she knows, does she not? that they are gone. truly, truly gone. and that this scaled beast of boggy terrors is nothing more than an image of what they could have been. of nostalgic wants and desires never to be fulfilled again...... )

A hiss interrupts her rampant thoughts, followed by the sharp SNAP of jaw and carcass bone in marriage.

Flayn gasps, muddied hands clasping over her mouth.

“It has been so long,” she whispers, her voice trembling;; tender as she could be for one waist-deep in marshland, “but I am here now, my fellow scaled soul...”

Slit-sharp pupils greet her, yellow scleras boring holes through her. The beast is larger than she expects, but perhaps it came from a further down branch of the family tree. In its wide, bloodied maw sits its last meal— a reptile of smaller size, whose corpse had been decimated to near non-recognition. It stares at her, unblinkingly, as a creature without eyelids would. She smiles.

“How does it feel to be take up such a form, I wonder?” Flayn asks, looking up to it, eager for conversation.

The beast snaps at her, a hiss erupting from the deep cavern of its throat. The nabatean only laughs.

“Is that really so? It must be lots more fun. I must admit, I find myself missing the space I used to take up...”

In an ideal world, Flayn and the beast would have simply sat there, exchanging noises of varying degrees of coherence. However, the world is not perfect, and this reptilian friend is more fiend to others, and so it is only inevitable that someone come hunting it down anyways.

It comes out of nowhere— one moment she’s sat down on a rock, chatting away with Great Funkle Gator ( she’s taken the liberty of bestowing a name upon it ), and the next—— CRRRACK!

“GODDESS ABOVE!”

Flayn screams as a flying flash surges forward, landing what is unmistakably a fierce-fisted punch right smack down on his nostrils. Great Funkle Gator throws its head backwards, a terrifying ROAR splitting the still air in twain. The saint blinks— right, she hadn’t come here alone. She should have considered the possibility that someone from her party would follow her...

Still, she’s not the time for such considerations at the moment, any and all logic tossed aside in favor for filial fear. Flayn looks upon the scene with great horror, her mouth hanging agape and her eyes wide as the full moon.

“DID... DID YOU JUST PUNCH GREAT FUNKLE GATOR?!?”

[inkribbon796]

The Ace of Spades

Summary: With the Dark Sides contained, Spade’s attention turns to the four Core Sides.

WARNING: this chapter has a tag for non-con kissing. It doesn’t get graphic or lead to anything worse and I love Spade but he can be a lot not good. The contents of the warning include: Spade kissing Roman when he believed Spade to be Logan; and does not go any further. If that is triggering just know that the chapter ends with Spade containing all four of the Core Sides like he did with Janus, Remus, and Orange. Just thought I’d leave this warning because it is worth being warned about.

A/N: Requested by ANON

<= Back to the Deck

Date Archived: May 6, X

Uploading information

Starting sequence

Logan had been seeing his therapist for a couple of months now, just talking about his nightmares and getting treated for his insomnia. The medication was doing wonders for him, he could sleep, and function, and think. He could plan some minor exposure therapy, carefully watched and supervised. It didn’t touch his skin, but Marvin and Ethan could practice knife throwing with Logan safely nearby without Logan feeling the need to run and hide in another room.

The logical Side finally felt like he was making progress.

Patton picked him up from the appointment and left him at the house at around eight, after making sure he was okay, going over to help Joan with something for a party they were going to before he picked them up again. Logan went back to the main bedroom as Virgil and Roman were watching something. Logan gave them a quick hello before heading upstairs. Once inside his eyes raked over the closet, checking that a piece of paper was still wedged in one of the hinges.

So he smiled and sat down at his desk.

Logan sighed, leaning back in his chair, “Your therapist is very nice, I’d forgotten about her. I do hope you haven’t been too impossible with her, she is doing her best.”

Silence.

“Logan’s” eyes were literally glowing in the low light of the room as he looked toward the closet. “Right, I shouldn’t keep speaking, we do have work to do.”

Turning in his swirling chair, Logan was facing his computer and the grey solid state drive hooked up to the computer. The drive was as long as his forearm and Logan was having some frustrating issues with formatting the tech and had to rework a couple of the programs on the computer. But it was a problem he had encountered before and knew exactly how to work around it. It took an hour to finally start downloading the right programs onto it and by then Roman and Virgil had gotten home from a patrol.

Right on time.

Perfectly on time.

Roman was inside their home first and saw Logan’s shoes in the front door’s shoe cubby. The indicator that Logan was in fact home, a constant and trusted sign.

“Look who’s home early,” Roman smiled, hands on his hips as Virgil pushed past him.

“Huh, thought he was going with Pat,” Virgil commented out loud. “Must have come over so he could pick us up.”

The creative Side squealed in excitement, fake swooning onto Virgil, “How romantic. How apropos. I shall fetch our love at once.”

“Gag me with a spoon, Princey,” Virgil smiled and rolled his eyes. He lightly pushed Roman away. “I’ll get the chili. You get the nerd.”

Roman raced up the stairs, as Virgil went into the kitchen. Hearts in his eyes, and his mind blinded to any inconsistencies like a slight chip in the plaster where metal had scratched the wall hours ago.

Without knocking, Roman barged into the bedroom and saw Logan slaving away on his computer.

“Oh, Logannnn~ my love,” Roman greeted in a sing-song voice so that Logan heard him coming and wasn’t startled by him. He walked over and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “You lose yourself so easily my dear. Why are you sitting in the dark?”

With a snap of his fingers, Roman’s magic turned on the desk light.

“Hey poindexter,” Roman smiled as the person at the desk craned his head up just enough to look up at Roman in the most human way possible. He saw a mess of equipment and objects shadowed in low light, the sun had started to set as “Logan” had been working.

“Salutations, Roman,” Logan greeted. “How was patrol?”

“Ughh, boring,” Roman rolled his eyes, Logan staring at his lips as he spoke, turning in his chair. “Jackie and Crank beat us to anything good. So glad we’re going to Joan’s, I’ve been so bored all day. You know Virgil was so—”

Logan’s lips met his, and Roman could practically taste the hunger on them.

It surprised Roman. Usually a Logan seated at his desk meant that the Side was so hyper fixated on work that nothing: not hunger, not tiredness, nor the other Sides could uproot him from his chair.

They pulled apart as Logan’s hand carded through Roman’s soft locks.

Roman chuckled, “Not that I’m not extremely appreciative, but don’t you normally wait until after a project to let me distract you?”

“I’m at a good stopping point, I’ve missed you so much,” Logan confessed, nuzzling along Roman’s neck.

“Miss you too when I’m gone,” Roman chuckled, hugging Logan to him.

Logan let out this weird glitchy chuckle, and in the low light of the room, Roman watched Logan’s eyes and glasses glitch as a cold chill rolled over the romantic Side. In that same moment a pair of metal cuffs made out of chittering nanites anchored Roman where the creative Side stood. “Oh Roman, as dense as always, how I love you.”

That’s when Roman finally saw the communicator on the imposter’s wrist that had a black spade insignia on it.

“You’re not Logan, uncuff me this instant you charlatan,” Roman demanded, trying to jerk himself free or imagine a weakness in the bonds, but they wouldn’t give. He was only able to kick out his feet.

Spade stood up and moved in for another kiss but Roman head butted him, and felt searing pain pierce through his head.

“Such a fighter,” Spade cooed. “You look every bit as beautiful as always and then more so.”

“Let go of me!” Roman shouted in anger as he tried to twist his way free. The Side felt the beginnings of fear bubbling up in his throat.

The imposter let out another odd, glitchy chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ll stop.”

He reached over to the desk, and pulled out three locket charms from his pocket and set two of them: a storm cloud with a thunderbolt coming down from it, and a golden heart locket with glasses etched into it. The locket charm had a fine golden chain attached to it.

The charm still in the imposter’s hand was a red and golden shield, it had the same design as Roman’s crest that he wore on the arms of his superhero uniform.

“I can’t promise this will be painless,” Spade told Roman as he stood up, kicking the chair to the side so that he had more room. “But don’t worry, my sweet prince, it’ll be quick and it will feel like going to sleep. When you wake up it will be like nothing happened.”

He moved forward, but the creative Side fought against him, kicking up a foot. “Don’t touch me, you fiend, quit using his form. You’re a brute and a monster.”

Then Roman’s foot physically went through his attacker’s stomach, as if he wasn’t even there. And something in Roman froze over in fear.

“True,” Spade admitted, sticking the charm to Roman’s neck with the nanites. The metal charm touching the soft flesh of his neck directly. “I am not worthy of something so lovely, but I’d rather have you alive and hating me, than dead and loving me.”

Just then a knock came at the door and Spade’s hands flew over Roman’s mouth, signaling for him to stay quiet with a finger gently pressed to the imposter’s lips.

“Hey Princey, Logan, everything okay?” Virgil called out.

Roman tried fighting in earnest, trying to wrench his head free. Spade slipped and Roman immediately belted out the loudest scream his lungs could muster, “VIRGIL!”

The door was already starting to open but it flew open even faster and Roman saw the fear, and then confusion, on his face when Virgil saw who Roman’s attacker looked like.

In that moment of hesitation, Spade’s nanites surged out and cascaded towards Virgil. The anxious Side tried to dodge out of the way and used his fear abilities against the Suit but the nanites glued Virgil to the wall.

“No! No! No!” Roman panicked as Spade calmly walked over to the anxious Side. “Unhand him, let him go!”

“Don’t worry,” Spade promised in the most threatening tone either one of the Sides had heard in a while. “I’ll let both of you go very soon.”

Virgil tried to twist out of his bonds, his eyeshadow darkening with his fear and he kept trying to attack the Suit with his fear powers. “Forgive me for being so rough, my lovely nightshade but I cannot afford to take chances.”

“Let me go, let me go,” Virgil was letting out a sound that sounded like spidery chittering and feline hissing as Virgil realized his powers were hitting the Suit like feathers against a brick wall. And the scariest thing was that he was still wearing Logan’s face.

“Are you trying to scare me?” Spade chuckled, his tone glitching. “My dear belladonna, there is nothing you could do to me, nothing you could show me, that could compare to the horrors I’ve seen.”

Roman’s struggling intensified as he saw a cloud of nanites snag the thundercloud charm off the table and bring it to one of Spade’s outstretched hands.

Virgil saw the pendant and began twisting. His dark purple aura scratching at the nanite goop and tried to slash at Spade’s face but that only scared Virgil more because he got the Suit in the face only to expose metal wires and plates before the nanites almost sewed it back up as if they were regrowing flesh.

The anxious Side was so overcome with fear that he froze up and shivered. Which let Spade stick the charm to his neck with nanites like he had done with Roman.

Then Side’s eyes glowed blue and he tapped the charm on Virgil’s neck. Virgil flinched and his eyes forcibly glowed purple before he let out a bloodcurdling scream and a flash of light.

And then Virgil was gone, the storm cloud pendant letting out and angry purple glow that looked like an angry storm was festering inside of it. It began dying down before the entire storm cloud had a brilliant purple shade and the thunderbolt a bright yellow.

Roman screamed in rage as Spade plucked the charm out of the goop and walked back over to the desk. All the nanites that had been used to capture Virgil merging back into Spade’s body. “Give him back! What did you do to him?”

“He’s alive and well, merely sleeping,” Spade with an absolute gentleness clipped the locket onto the front of the solid state drive, a little hanger notched into the metal specifically designed for it. “And soon you will be too.”

“Don’t touch me! Get away from me! Give him back!” Roman tried to wrench himself free but nanites came up to cup the back of his head to keep his neck still.

“Good night my sweet prince,” Spade said, his eyes glowing blue as he tapped the locket.

Roman felt something in his soul twist, something similar to fusion but used for a different purpose, his eyes glowed red.

And then the pain started. It was blinding, white hot pain. All of Roman’s nerves felt like they were being set on fire. Then it was gone and Roman too was gone from the room, his soul folded up neatly into the shield pendant.

Logan kissed the pendant reverently as it glowed an angry red before settling into a much calmer constant red color. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Princey. When you wake up it’ll all be over.”

As Spade was clipping the shield locket with Virgil’s thundercloud there was an angry kick from the inside of the closet.

Spade took his time and as he walked towards the door, he pounded on the closet door once in response. The Suit took extreme care not to dent or break the fragile wood in case anyone checked the house when his work was done.

Logan’s phone came out of the nanites that made up Spade’s physical body. He began typing on it, turning just enough lights to make the upstairs still look lived in. Then he turned on the living room light and sat next to the window just behind the kitchen table and started reading through engineering and science journals.

He was there for twenty minutes before Patton entered the house, humming to himself, thinking about how quiet it was. He walked into the kitchen to grab the bowl of chili they were supposed to bring to the party, and flicked on the light. Which is exactly when he saw who he thought was Logan was sitting at the table.

The emotional Side jumped, grabbing at his chest, “Jeezy creezy, Logan, you scared me.”

“Pardon, I was just thinking,” Logan excused, just staring at Patton. “I didn’t realize how late it had gotten.”

“Well there’s no point in sitting in the dark anymore,” Patton smiled.

Spade smiled, “I suppose not.”

“Well why don’t you enlighten me on where Ro and Virge are, that party won’t attend itself,” Patton laughed at his own joke, and to his surprise “Logan” huffed out a little laugh. It was quick but Patton still heard it.

“I got you,” Patton gasped in excitement. He turned to yell outside the kitchen towards the stairs. “Hey guys!”

When Patton turned his back and set his hand on the wall Spade shot a wad of nanites over and stuck Patton’s arm to the wall.

Silence echoed painfully through the apartment as Patton looked back at Spade who set Logan’s phone on the table.

“You’re not Logan,” Patton realized, trying to pull his hand free. “Who are you?”

“You’re always so quick to spot me,” Spade smiled. “I don’t know whether to be amused by your awareness or angry at my own failings.”

“Where are the others?” Patton asked as the nanites wrapped around him to pin him in place. He was watching Spade pull a golden locket out of his arm and his nanites gently slid it around Patton’s neck. The emotional Side flinching before Spade pulled back.

When he tentatively opened his eyes he watched Spade take his phone and his nanite body took it inside of the imposter.

“Sleep and all will be right again when you wake, I promise you,” Spade told him with such determination in his eyes that it was terrifying to Patton.

Spade repeated what he had done to Virgil and Roman on Patton and the kitchen was silent once more.

Looking down at the locket in his hand, Spade let out a relieved sigh. He had them, he was almost ready.

Going through the house, Spade began carefully putting things away and making sure all of the plugs had been pulled out of the wall and the lights were turned off. Making sure to grab Logan’s phone checking that Virgil and Roman’s phones weren’t laying around somewhere. He was halfway up the stairs when Patton’s phone dinged.

The Suit stopped, one foot up the next stair as he pulled the phone out of his arm and looked at it.

“You guys need anything before you get over here?” Joan had texted Patton.

Spade paused to think, and sent Joan a quick text, “Logan isn’t feeling well, we’re going to stay at the house.”

Almost immediately three dots appeared, Joan was texting back. But after a second they disappeared for about a minute. Then: “K be safe.”

“Will do.” Spade texted back, and then pocketed the phone.

It didn’t ring or vibrate, but Logan’s did.

The message was from Joan: “Is Patton with you?”

“Yes,” Spade answered.

There was another pause.

“Good, he told me he was running late,” Joan told him. “Have a nice night.”

Spade sent an additional perfunctory farewell and continued up the stairs where he continued to turn off everything in the house, ending with the main bedroom, where the computer equipment still was on the desk and the solid state drive with the two charms hooked onto it. The Suit admired his handiwork for a second or two, making sure there was no leaking aura or glowing that signified the Sides were awake.

When he was sure all was as he wanted, Spade carefully hooked Patton’s locket with the charms and picked up the solid state drive, black handles springing up on either side of the drive for Spade to grab.

He cleaned up the desk so none of Spade’s personal tech was left for anyone like Bing or Joan to find and use against him. The tech and nanites reabsorbed except for the drive and charms attached.

With a smug, vindictive smile, Spade walked over to the closet and opened it to look down at the real Logan who was tied up and gagged on the closet floor. The logical Side looked up at his doppelgänger and screamed angrily at him.

Spade looked down sternly at him and held up the solid state drive and the three charms attached to it. “Alright, let’s try this again.”

End of Sequence

Conclusion: Time to regroup with Hearts and prepare for the mission proper.

[darkstrangevirgilanxiboi]

IRL Glitches In My Life

All right so in my 23 years on this beautiful nightmare rock in space , I've had some wild shit happen to me. So here's a list of all the things that have me wondering if 1- I'm a protagonist with a grand destiny foretold ages ago in a prophecy 2- I'm a protagonist with a curse of unusual luck and unspeakable tragedy in store 3- I'm an antagonist and am one hot mess away from an origin story 4- I'm a video game character who's become self aware and the game is trying to delete me 5- I'm actually a fairy , and am a changeling ( strongly hoping tbh) Anyway ,sometimes my life is wilder than a shonen protagonist's ~ - At the age of five , on a family vacation , I managed to stop myself from falling into a deep hole at a monorail platform. How I managed to simply defy physics when much of my weight was over the edge , I don't know. All I know is that five year old me was a millimeter away from death and only laughed at the sheer depth of the abyss - Apparently once when I was like three months old , my uncle was fooling around and juggling knives for laughs. Little baby me was chilling at the table , watching with glee , until my uncle screwed up and a knive flew off-course and quite nearly landed in my tiny hand, missing by a very slim margin. Baby me , according to uncle Tony , immediately tries to pull the knife out of the high chair tray LIKE SOME KIND OF BABY WINTER SOLDIER My uncle nearly faints , and somewhere buried in years worth of junk is probably a picture of baby me grinning away as I try to pull the knife that nearly took my fingers out of the tray table - SO WHEN I WAS IN FIRST GRADE WE HAD A CLASS PET AND IT WAS A GODDAMN SNAKE Wtf Michigan why would you even allow that .... Anyway some prankster kid snuck the snake into my backpack and so when I open it to get my lunchbox , Mr.Hades slithers up my arm . Now most six year olds would freak the fuck out . But me? I watched way too many nature documentaries. I read a lot. So I just calmly drop my bag , and walk to the teacher , and in a very quiet voice announce that I have a snake on my arm. The teacher flipped his shit so bad that the snake freaks and bites me , sending twelve other children into immediate horror. Twenty minutes , a shot of anti-venom, a really cool Spiderman bandaid , lots of fussing , and one hyperventilating teacher later, I go down in my school's history as the girl who fears no snake. I don't even remember what type it was But it was a really chill snake most of the time - THAT TIME WHEN I ALMOST IMPALED MYSELF ON A BOULDER Yeah so if you've gone camping you've probably been tricked into 'snipe hunting ' , which is just a game of looking for made up creatures in pitch dark . Anyway I have glasses and can't see for shit without them and I also have asthma , so running around in the mountains at night ? Death sentence tbh This was like five years ago but I still remember it vividly . So I'm at church camp with like 50 other girls ( oh the days when I was forcibly identified as female ) and at WTF O Clock at night , some of the older girls ( 17-19 ) wake up my tent full of sleepy teens. I'm the oldest in my tent at 17, so I'm skeptical as hell but also super easily duped because TIRED Anyway the other girls tell us they heard scary noises in the woods so we all tumble out in pajamas with flashlights and one chick dragged along her body pillow of Sasuke Uchiha ( love you Jackie ) and we trailed into the woods like a group of doomed horror flick protagonists. At some point someone screams , which freaks out anyone who's even half awake , and we all just start booking it in the direction we think camp is. My flashlight buddies ditched me early on so all I have to see by is a flimsy little glowstick. And I run right into a boulder , nearly breaking my leg. It hurt like a bitch so I screamed , and suddenly all the others come running to me and soon I see that the boulder I ran into is all jagged, and that if I'd not tripped into it , I would have hit it with my face . My right knee was a mess , and it took like a month to fully heal. I still have trouble with it sometimes if I've been on my feet too long. - The first quicksand incident , in which thirteen year old me is traipsing through the woods hunting for a cool walking stick , and suddenly finds my foot sinking into a weird hole. With a lot of swearing and effort , I rescue my foot but sacrifice a shoe. ( if anybody finds a single size five white sneaker in a forest in Utah , I want it back ) - THAT TIME I WOKE UP DURING AN EARTHQUAKE So I used to live in Utah , in an area prone to quakes. Most of em were tiny, but this one? Shook the house. Woke up and everything in the house was like blurry from the shakiness. Anyway, at the time my bookcase was near my bed, and the bookcase just decided to collapse literally TWO SECONDS after I wake up , falling in a loud whump right where my head had been seconds before. I don't even know why I woke up but for once I was glad to be a restless sleeper - That time I almost drank Poisonous Things So my high school science teacher was a notorious prank fiend. He loved to spook us. But one time my class decides to spok him. He made a chemical mix that looked like soda , like Coca Cola , but was actually a mix of like eight separate deadly things ( including , I think, arsenic? Formaldehyde, for sure ) , and leaves it in a glass on one of the tables. He leaves the room , and I come back in from the bathroom. I see what I assume is some poor fool's unattended soda. But of course this is the school's most notorious prankster class, so I'm not immediately like ' drink?" Nah, I carefully take the cup with me to my seat , pull out a water balloon from my pocket ( don't ask me why I, a nearly innocent teen, carried these) , stick it in my mouth , and lift the cup to my mouth at the same time I inhale . ( learned this trick in biology class actually , it's great if you don't know what's in your drink! ) The water balloon catches the chemical mix , but that's not what my class sees. A horrified shriek , a frantic teacher , and a dumbfounded class of teens later, I am given a dubious award from my fellow students for being " Batgirl levels of insane " consisting of an actual soda and a small toy frog I think my poor teacher almost had heart failure , sorry Mr Fullmer . Anyway yeah I almost got killed by a prank 😂( like three times actually ) - That Time Winter Itself Tried To Off Me ( but for whyyyyyyy??? I am big fan? I love Toshiro Hitsugaya and Jack Frost? I love cold boys? ) Anyway I was 19 ( oh a recent near death experience , yayyyyyy) and had just been stood up. Which left me in a city I didn't know , with no money and no place to crash for the weekend until my bus back showed up. So I'm stuck at the bus station , locked outside at night with my suitcase in freaking OCTOBER. I had no coat on because I had assumed I wouldn't be in the outdoors very much . So I'm there in a thin long sleeve shirt and jeans , and it's raining. Which turns to sleet. Which turns to huge hail chunks . AND THEN AS IF I'VE ANGERED FATHER WINTER HIMSELF, A BLIZZARD ERUPTS But it stays isolated to only the block I'm on. IT FOLLOWS ME LIKE A HELLISH SHADOW And I'm stuck in this chaos for 4 hours , at one point trying to fit in my suitcase for shelter, and finally I'm able to get a ride back to my school ( I was in trade school at the time ) By the time my ride gets there, I am a block of human ice. I'd gotten hypothermia and minor frostbite and a wicked case of bronchitis. So yeah..... There's more but I just wanna sleep and try to forget that nature itself is against me tbh

[syraniscorthir]

“If I can give you any advice, Syranis, it’s not to grow too attached. Whether I agree with the stupidity of it or not, he’s still enwrapped in his ghost. I doubt he’ll ever let her go. You’d just be setting yourself up for heartache.”

Her last few weeks aboard the Kraken were tumultuous to say the least, but none so much as the final night. It was one that would be burned in her brain until the end of her days, she was certain. She would never unsee the candles alight in his cabin, ones she had set out herself. She would never unfeel his hands on her body, or unhear the words shared by either of them. Worst, she would never forget the feeling in the pit of her stomach when she crept out of his ship and disappeared into the harbor for the final time. She couldn’t forget it; to the day it remained there, lying dormant until it decided she needed a quick reminder of her failures. She couldn’t keep him safe. She couldn’t contend with his lifestyle forever, nor could she hold his interest forever and she knew it. Eventually, his ghosts would catch up with him, and she wouldn’t be able to fight them back. Eventually, both of their ghosts would catch up to them, and Cerothyn would turn from her. He needed something, someone, more, more than she could ever provide. Rather than waiting for such a time to come around, for him to decide to leave her and bestow upon her the same heartache she had carried for Ranalin, she cut the ties herself. She left him with a kiss to his unconscious lips and naught more and didn’t look back as she made it to the shoreline.

However, she kept his bracelet tight around her wrist like a well-guarded secret, a quiet reminder of the man who had accidentally lifted her up out of the darkest pits of her own hell and sent her heart soaring. A reminder of the man who she had willfully left behind, though she wasn’t sure if it was out of fear, ignorance, or selfishness. She knew that she would likely always be sorry.

Perhaps Camsyn had been right all along.

It had been no trouble to find her way back to the D’athion estate, where Baelios welcomed her back with little question and a sour expression. Life as she had previously known it had returned to normal. She did not practice with the eldest Lord in the courtyards any longer. She did not celebrate when Hellscream was struck dead. She did not offer up her services to heal when news of the Legion’s invasion made its way to Quel’thalas. For a year, Syranis donned her pretty formalwear and moved through the droves of the estate’s patrons like water: effortlessly, seamlessly, invisible. She became a ghost once more to the lot of them. Every so often she would catch wind of a new connection made, or one that had expired. Sometimes, Baelios would choose to notice her, and the two would talk long into the night until they were sick of one another.and their talks turned to arguments. When he disappeared to the front lines, she found herself missing those arguments. But she never feared for a lack of his return. Something told her that no matter what, Baelios would always find his way out of dire situations and back home. Unlike his twin, he just seemed that hard to kill.

But everything changed before Baelios returned. Someone beat him back home.

The matron of house D’athion, the evil witch that had brought her into this world and forced her to marry her eldest son, Xrystiana D’athion-Bloodsinger, was alive and well. She had not perished the afternoon that Syranis had walked past her prone form with a swarm of attendants trying to resuscitate her. She wasn’t sure if it was trick, mistake, or intentional, but she had not died. Xrystiana was still breathing, and she swooped back into the estate and took hold of everything like she had never left. The house fell back into debauchery in no time: one couldn’t turn the corner without finding someone partaking in some sort of substance abuse or trying to repopulate the whole of Silvermoon. It wasn’t as shocking to her as it had been in the past, and she attributed her dulled response to her time spent with the Zeddicus brothers. Perhaps not the brothers, just the eldest. Perhaps…

Syranis could no longer float about the house freely. It was no secret to anyone in the family that Lady Xrystiana hated her. She only tolerated her because of her marriage to Ranalin, which had been arranged. Through her House D’athion gained access to all of House Cor’thir’s assets, particularly their gold fundage, but… That had dried up long ago, just like her marriage to the late, eldest Bloodsinger son. In truth, she had no business still being in the house. She was there only of Baelios’ generosity and good will. So rather than wandering, Syranis kept herself locked away tight, hidden, and when she ventured out made sure to dress the part of the most loose D’athion women. No one ever batted an eye at her beyond herself, and that was only when she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror.

When Baelios returned, they did not speak as frequently, and certainly did not speak of Syranis’ fate should she be discovered. In fact, their meetings were quite rare. At least, until the night that the warrior burst into her quarters unannounced. Lucky for her, she had been sitting fireside drinking her tea and scribbling away into an unmarked tome. He hadn’t knocked nor apologized for his lack of knocking. He only slammed the door shut and stepped into the center of her room.

“Baelios? What are you-”

“I’m leaving the house. Soon. You need to leave, too. You’re not safe here. I can’t protect you anymore.” He interrupted her.

Syranis stared at him over the top of her steaming hot tea -- chamomile; sleep didn’t come easy these nights for her -- and blinked wide, green eyes at him. “You’re joking, right?”

Baelios shook his head. “No, not even a little bit. I can’t contend with what my mother has wrought here, or what she plans to do. She knows of my discontent. It will be no time before she finds a way to get rid of me.”

“What? She wouldn’t get rid of you. The next child in line is Pamina, and Pamina-”

“Doesn’t want to run the house, no. But she’s powerful, as are her children. My mother plans to use them all, though I don’t know how or to what ends. I just know that whatever she plans to do involves Aelen, and I can’t assume it’s ‘safe’ given she drugged Nostariel to bring her here. It’s a small miracle she hasn’t gone after Aela as well. I can’t sit back and condone that, Syranis. I can’t watch it happen. I can’t let it happen. I have to get out of here, I have to make sure my sisters and their children are safe.”

Syranis lowered her mug and looked into her lap. It wasn’t until he continued speaking that he gained her attention. “She has no use for you. You were a pawn, a tool, an asset in marrying my brother. Your house is dried up, you’ve nothing to your name, and Ranalin is dead, as best we know. I’ve seen her kill more useful people for fun, but you don’t mean anything to her. You’re useless to her and you know too much. If she realizes that you’re still here, she’ll kill you.”

The blonde frowned and placed her cup and book on the table near the fireplace. She stood and began to slowly pace the floor of her quarters, her head swimming. She had been careful, so very careful, in her occupancy, but she had never thought about what it would mean if the day came that Xrystiana did find her still in the estate. Despite knowing what Xrystiana was capable of and the horrors that she thrived on, it never occurred to her that she might see her former daughter-in-law as a threat. She never thought that she might kill her.

“What am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to go?” She stopped in front of Baelios and stared up at him, looking mostly terrified. She had managed to bite back the tears stinging her eyes, but she couldn’t mask the crack in her voice. “Lee, House Cor’thir has been gone for years and I haven’t done anything useful to...Light, anybody, since taking the job with Camsyn Zeddicus. What am I supposed to do?”

Baelios stepped forward and drew Syranis into an embrace, one that caused those tears to threaten to spill all over again. She could take a lot of things, but actual comfort, sympathy… She wasn’t so sure. “We’ll figure something out. Don’t panic. I’ve every intention of withdrawing as much of the money here that is mine that I can without drawing suspicion. From there, we’ll… I don’t know. We’ll find someplace. Someplace where I can hide you and my sisters.”

As if on queue, the door to Syranis’ quarters burst open again. In the doorframe stood Lady Xrystiana herself, dressed from head to toe in a deep, royal purple gown, embellished with enough gemstones and sequins to make her a walking fiend made of glitter. Her bright, cherry red lips curved into the cruelest smile the blonde had ever seen as she set heavily shaded eyes on the two of them. “You know, in all of the affairs I have attended to since my return, I always thought that there was something missing, something that I was forgetting. Now, I remember. The Cor’thir girl. Tell me, girl. How is a pesky, mousy little thing like you still breathing?”

Syranis gripped the front of Baelios’ shirt so tightly she feared that it might tear. Her gaze was locked on the D’athion matron and she knew that her terror showed on her face. She couldn’t help it. Baelios was eerily calm. She caught his gaze before he turned around to face his mother.

“We’re to be married,” Baelios said to her, and Syranis was certain the surprise in Xrystiana’s eyes matched her own. “Her marriage to Ranalin was dissolved long before he was stated as deceased. She’s stayed around for me.”

“Really,” Spoke Xrystiana. She crossed her arms and leaned into the doorframe with her shoulder and hip, an amused smirk crossing her features. “And Myriela was what, a clever distraction? We’ve not all forgotten her, Baelios.”

“No,” Baelios said, shaking his head. He reached back to grasp Syranis’ hand. “She stayed to help me get over the pain of losing Myriela. It wasn’t until very recently I realized, and accepted, that I had fallen in love with her. True, she hasn’t an asset to her name, but she still is of noble blood. Between us, we should produce a suitable heir for your line.”

Syranis felt Baelios’ form stiffen with every word. It was a lie, all of it. She hadn’t stayed for Myriela, not at all. When Myriela had been slain, she was still awaiting Ranalin’s return in vain. She hadn’t even liked Myriela, though everyone else had. Something about her rubbed her the wrong way and made her skin crawl, the same way that being around Analeil did for her. When it was later revealed that Myriela and Analeil’s older sister, Ilanthia, had actually been the same person, it all made sense. Something in that bloodline was very, very wrong.

Xrystiana gave a slow nod, then pushed herself off of the doorframe. “Fine. I don’t like it, but I can think of worse courses you could take. If you two are truly to be married, I want it done within the month. I will set the planning for it into motion, and it will be a traditional D’athion wedding. I refuse to allow it to become the circus that the wedding she and Ranalin had became.”

Syranis was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when Xrystiana fixed her eyes on her, causing her to bristle all over again. “Don’t thinkt hat I’m not watching you, girl. You’ve overstayed your welcome for someone who isn’t contributing a thing to my family. I expect an heir. Within the year.”

Neither Baelios nor Syranis had time to protest or even speak. Xrystiana had left the room, slamming the heavy, cherrywood door behind her as soon as she had given her warning. Baelios waited until he could no longer hear the clacking of her heels on the stone floors out in the halls before he spun around to face Syranis.

“A month. We have less than a month. I will train you so that you will be able to defend yourself, but you have to work with me. Syranis, we have to get out of here. Sooner than later.”

Syranis blinked up at him. “I..- Gallaria. You told your mother we were to be married. Surely she’ll spread the word. If Gallaria hears th-”

“I will deal with Gallaria. Syranis, you have to stay focused, do you hear me? I bought us time, not safety. We have to get out of here.”

He released her and went for the door. “Start thinking about the things you want to bring with you. We can only take what we can carry. I can try to smuggle some of it out over the next few weeks on my ventures into the city, but there are no guarantees. Get used to the idea of leaving this life, Syranis, and get some sleep. I’m having you fitted for armor in the morning,”

Like always, she didn’t have time to respond. Baelios pulled her bedroom door open, checked the hallways, and was gone within an instant. She stared at the door long after he had left, silent and unmoving, before she collapsed into the chair by the fireplace in tears. There were a lot of things in life that she was equipped for, but this? This was not one of them. She had made a horrible mistake. She never should have returned. She was prone to making mistakes, but she wasn’t sure that this was one that she would come back from.

(( @cerothyn @baelios @the-shadows-queen ))

(( @quelloras @camsyn @sunwhisper @arcane-fire @analeil for mentions ))

[geeksrs545]

15 Scary (and Awesome) Adult Halloween Costumes for 2017

Wouldn't you know it, my favorite time of year is upon us again. I love Halloween because it gives me a chance once a year to shed this fake flesh visage for people and don my true, horrific, demonic self I have to hide the rest of the year. His name is Korzburg the Devourer and he has lived inside me since childhood, with one night annually he can reveal his true form through me.

My true self. An abomination born from the fiery lungs of Hell to reign chaos on the people as they cry for mercy.

It is also a great chance to get dressed up and get candy or hit up some kinky social gatherings. With Halloween in mind, we thought we would assemble a list of scary adult halloween costumes (and some funny and cool ones too) that will surely be trending this Halloween (2017 for those who may just awoken from a coma).

Expect to see some aliens, a demon maybe, some pop culture references, and our president. Here, without further delay, 15 scary adult Halloween costumes for 2017 (and beyond).

Side note, not all are scary. Some are just downright hilarious and some are current pop culturegems.

1. Pennywise the Dancing Clown

When IT comes to Halloween, IT is easy to guess this year that the scary adult Halloween costumes trend will be led by none other than the Pennywise from the new IT movie which just came out (and is pretty badass).

There is just something primal in us that clowns evoke, like the simple fact that someone dressed up as such has complete anonymity and can pretty much get away with murder without anyone knowing who is actually doing it. Check out the history of John Wayne Gacy of you think I'm lying.

And let's be real, that face and outfit are scary as hell.

(Buy)

2. Wonder Woman

For the woman who may not want to be scary but may also want to feel empowered and driven, there is this killer Wonder Woman costume. And we are not talking cheap knockoff. We are talking her outfit from the flick with pretty much every detail nailed.

Granted, the cuffs won't stop bullets so don't get too overconfident when donning this guise.

(Buy)

3. Krampus the Christmas Demon

By now I am sure you have all heard of the legend of the Krampus. The German equivalent of Santa (more like Satan) who shows up for bad little German boys and girls on Christmas and steals and eats them if they were bad during the year.

Well, now you can actually dress up like the badass beast for Halloween. Please note, the kid legs and shoes sticking out of the bag really sell it and bring this Halloween costume to whole new level. And you can also bust this one out at Christmas, so really, it pays for itself the first year.

(Buy)

4. Inflatable T-Rex

What strikes terror in the hearts of men more than giant dinosaurs stumbling into a party where they reside? Nothing, that's what. And that is just what you will do when you show up to a Halloween shindig in this inflatable number.

Kidding. The truth is, these costumes are hilarious because they are inflated and oversized and the head wobbles all around when you walk like the T-rex's neck was broken. So what is scarier than a T-Rex at a party?

A T-Rex with a broken neck at a party, real talk. This shit is wholly unsettling.

(Buy)

5. Twisty the Clown (From American Horror Story)

Of all the scary characters to come out of the many seasons of American Horror Story, Twisty the clown (from Freakshow season and this season) has easily been one of the most memorable and creepiest. When it comes to scary adult Halloween costumes it seems like creepy clowns are gonna be all the rage this year between Pennywise and Twisty.

Hell, going as ANY clown is pretty much scary as hell TBH. But Pennywise and Twisty are the two best bets for actual recognition factor.

(Buy)

6. Eleven from Stranger Things

Granted, Eleven from Stranger Things is not really a scary character, but you carry a Lego waffle with you there is no question you would be the Belle of the ball this Halloween.

Stranger Things has been a huge hit, so going to a party, showing up somewhere as a grown up version of Eleven is guaranteed to get some cool responses. Plus, you'll have a waffle in case you get hungry at any time, and that's a bonus!

(Buy)

7. A White Walker from Game of Thrones

Ah, Game of Thrones. The TV show that has literally become a cultural phenomenon. You didn't think the list would be bereft of any entries from this fantastical show, did you?

And what better way to make the room go quiet than showing up as the Night King himself. The mask is really well done, with all the rigid, angular features we know so well from the character on the show.

By the way, extra 1000 points if you go to a Halloween party as a White Walker and never speak to anyone. Just stand there. That will REALLY freak people out.

(Buy)

8. A Horse

I know what some of you are thinking:

How is a horse mask scary?

Truth is, the horse head has gained HUGE fame over the last five years due to its use and popularity in pics and videos online. So as simple as showing up in a horse head mask may appear, people are gonna love it.

(Buy)

9. Morty from Rick and Morty

This show is SO HOT right now that showing up at any party dressed up as Morty from Rick and Morty is a surefire bet to get some reactions. Extra points if you can seem really nervous about everything and have your voice crack whenever you try to talk.

The best part is, it comes with mask and yellow shirt so all you need is the toy gun replica and some jeans, as well as a palpable sense of insecurity to really pull it off.

Wubba lubba dub-dub, motherf*ckers.

(Buy)

10. Jeff the Killer Costume

Now this, my friends and fellow fiends is one helluva scary Halloween Costume. Based on in the internet legend of Jeff the Killer, who would have thought a crappy, Photoshopped internet picture would end up making such a piss in your pants costume, but looks don't lie, and this shit is SCARY! Tha grin alone is just unnerving to the core.

Walking around dressed like this on Halloween would make some of the kiddies like Halloween a whole lot less and might freak out your neighbors (which is kinda fun, you gotta admit).

(Buy)

11. Inflatable Baby Boy

My God, my eyes have never seen anything scarier than a grownup dressed as a giant, balloon baby, walking around and demanding candy. Some outfits and Halloween costumes are definitely spooky, but this one is just wrong and once you see this thing in motion, it will haunt your nightmares until the day you die. Which, by the way, could be from a heart attack after witnessing this abomination in real life.

You wanna freak people out, a giant, adult baby wobbling around larger than life is a great way to achieve just that.

(Buy)

12. Billy the Puppet from SAW

With a brand new SAW movie about to drop (entitled Jigsaw), what better time to take Billy the Puppet out of retirement to scare some life back into people?

As many of you recall (or don't, who knows), Billy the Puppet is the little puppet that pops up before every scene or moment in Saw and warns of the details of the following trap. He is creepy as hell, so imagine the terror you will strike in people's hearts when you show up as an ADULT version of said doll and just keep asking people if they want to play a game?

(Buy)

13. Zalgo

Much like Jeff the Killer we showed before, Zalgo is a Halloween costume based on the Creepypastaabout a creature who incites crippling fear when someone looks into its hollow, red and black eyes. It is another example where an online story and skinsuit don't seem like they would go together but the end result is some genuinely creepy stuff.

Honestly, all skinsuit costumes kind of freak me out. Humans who have hidden faces are the scariest and dangerous humans of all. Doesn't hurt when the face is hidden behind something as hideous as Zalgo.

Wanna see an even SCARIER skin suit, though.

(Buy)

14. U.S.A Man

Um, I realize there are full-on monsters on this list, but is it weird I find this kind of (literally) blind patriotism to be scarier than the monsters? I mean, the person is a f*cking flag for crying out loud. From the clear bulge you must see in the groin area to the lack of eye contact, I feel like this costume is about as scary as it gets.

Don't get me wrong, I love that people support the U.S.A, but to do so in spandex with no face puts you just one notch under potential terrorist to me.

This is not so much a costume as it is a clear cry for help on our country's behalf.

(Buy)

Speaking of which, let's end this right..

15. Donald Trump Pouting

There are quite a few Trump options this year. There is even a cool one where you are standing on his shoulders, but I HAD to go with this particular mask because of how well-crafted it is. It really looks like him, even down to the hair and pained grimace and massive, orange pores.

Heck, he's even pouting just like the real thing. And if there is anything scarier than Donald Trump right now, I don't know what it is, honestly. To me, there is nothing scariest than an orange doofus with access to nuclear weapons.

Probably won't end well for us, but hell, maybe you can squeeze this one last Halloween in. Hopefully, the above Halloween costumes help make the decision a little easier for you.

(Buy)

Images and Costumes Via Party City andSpiritOfHalloween

Make sure your pet doesn't feel left out: Pets in Halloween Costumes

[malcolmteller-blog]

[HORROR] The Kingmaker and Me

I don’t like to think of myself as an addict. I mean, alright, that’s what I am, but I like to think of myself as something more than that, you know? I’m an adventurer, a dreamer, a wannabe scholar. A lover.

Okay, the hell with it - I’m an addict. It’s something I need to face, especially as it got me into the mess I’m in now.

I was born about thirty years ago in Halifax, Nova Scotia - Eastern Canada. I had a good life. Middle-class household, loving Mom and Dad, loving sister. Everything was perfect, except that it wasn’t.

Mom and Dad had various problems, namely that Dad was an adulterous dirtbag. Me and Jenny, my sister, seven years older than me, would hear them fighting when we were lying in bed at night. Finally, it got to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to cope some way or another, so, when I was fifteen, I started dabbling in drugs. Stuff like marijuana. Honestly, I loved it - it was the perfect escape for me. Eventually it got to the point where it was the only way I could wind down. A year later, Mom finally packed her stuff up and left and took Dad to the cleaners in the divorce. Real nasty stuff, a hell of a lot of hatred and bitterness between the two of them that Jenny and I definitely noticed. Like I said before, I needed to cope. So, I retreated into my friend group - who by this point were made up of mainly scumbags and juvenile delinquents - and, with one thing leading to another, I got into the harder stuff. Coke, ecstasy, that whole deal. Then, a few months later at a party, I tried heroin for the first time in an attempt to impress some girl. Boy, were we ever off to the races, then.

So, by the time I was eighteen my older cousins were dragging my struggling and fighting body out of Mom’s house, Jenny holding her as she sobbed so hard that her body wouldn’t stop shaking. I still remember that. She’d told me that I was out of her life until I ‘was her son again’. It breaks my heart now when I think about it. Of course, then I just hated her and thought she was being a total bitch. That’s what drug addiction does to you, though.

So, by the time the 2016 presidential election is happening, I’m hustling on the streets of Vancouver, just a slave to the junk.

That’s when I discovered Elfa.

How to describe Elfa? It was the most amazing shit imaginable. I’m not sure how to describe it. It’s what I imagine Heaven must feel like. It’s amazing. There was a bunch of other stuff too, which I’ll get to, but it was the best drug I’d ever taken.

I’ll do a quick rundown. I get into the squat where I’m living with some other fiends, and I popped a pill - just one, to start off with.

Within ten seconds of me swallowing the thing, I was on the top of the world. It felt like that first high I got the first time I ever did heroin. Fuck chasing the dragon, with this shit I’d damned well caught the dragon.

But that wasn’t it. For the first few hours, I laid on my dirty mattress in this state of ecstatic bliss. Just, I’d never thought this kind of feeling could exist. For the first few hours, I just laid there, this huge smile on my face. Life was perfect at that moment. Then, I drifted off to sleep.

In that sleep, I saw things. Things you’d never imagine. Cities as ancient as time itself. Entire galaxies filled with song. Then… then beasts, beasts that anyone would see as horrific and terrifying if they saw them, but I saw them as beautiful. I think that’s the crew the Kingmaker was from.

We’ll get to him.

But by the time I was on hour twenty six, I was drifting in and out of sleep, and the whole way through I had become enmeshed in this other world, this higher state of consciousness and being. My entire body felt warm, and I felt as if I was floating in water. I felt like I was connected to every atom in the world, that I was one with everything. Like I was back in the womb, honestly. In a lot of ways it was like a lot of other highs I’d had, but with Elfa, it was far better than anything I’d ever had and could ever have imagined. I’d been using for a little over a decade, and I hadn’t ever experienced anything like this.

Then I crashed.

Out of nowhere, I was snapped out of the high and back into the real world. Believe me, it was a jarring shift. One minute I was basically in the highest level of paradise imaginable, and the next I was laying on my mattress in a dirty squat, feeling like absolute garbage.

I started to panic almost immediately. The sheer goodness of the high and the abrupt end to it led to me needing the high really bad. So, scrambling to the baggie across the room, my hands shaking, I picked up the baggie, opened it, and shook a couple pills out onto my palm. I wasn’t even thinking when I swallowed both of them at once. I waited. For fifteen minutes. Fifteen of the longest, most agonizing minutes I’d ever spent in my entire life, and all for nothing. Nothing happened. The two other pills didn’t work.

I tried some more. Still nothing. In a rage, I threw the baggie at the wall, most of the pills scattering all over the place. I sat down, shaking - with rage, and with the mad, desperate need for a fix. I was so. Fucking. Furious. As far as I was concerned, I was ripped off in one of the worst ways possible. The little bastard gave me a baggie that had one good pill in it, the rest garbage, probably so he could rope me in to buy the real stuff at double the price.

So there I am, sitting on the floor of my room, my mind racing with plots and plans of how to expertly fuck over the bastard who did this to me.

That’s when I heard a voice inside my head.

Like, not the voice of me thinking something. No, this was something different. It was as if someone was in the room with me.

I’m sitting on the dirty floor, shaking with rage and with the need for a fix, and trying to work out how I’m gonna beat the living fuck out of the little bastard who ripped me off. I’m sitting there, and I hear the voice - of a man - this slow, young (as in early forties), smooth, well-spoken voice. The kind you’d imagine an Ivy League professor to have.

“Danny.”

My head shot up and then swerved around as I desperately tried to track down who spoke to me. No one was in view. I got up and walked to my door and peeked around the corners. Still nobody. Then it spoke again.

“I’m not in the building, Danny.”

I stood there, frozen, my blood pumping and feeling like ice in my vein. What the hell was going on? Was I going nuts?

The voice responded to that thought, interestingly enough. “No, you’re not going nuts. Sit down, and we can talk.”

I slowly - shakily - walked back to my mattress and sat down on it. Then, the voice continued.

“You can call me the Kingmaker. I’m the one who controls the highs you get from Elfa. I can switch it on and off at my pleasure.”

My heart was pounding at this point because I was starting to freak. The fuck. Out. I’m sitting here, and some disembodied voice is telling me that it controls whether I get high or not from a drug that I took. This was way, way too crazy for me. Evidently, though, the Kingmaker sensed my panic and so kept talking to me.

“Just calm down. Everything will be alright.” Not listening, I started to - in an internal panic - try and figure out how to get out of this situation. The Kingmaker noticed that too, and this time spoke more firmly. “I said calm.” Something in the voice… it made me calm down. What I know now, but didn’t quite notice then, was that the voice at that point had struck fear directly into my heart.

So I was forcefully calming myself down, just sitting there, and it continued.

“Now, we can begin. I’m happy to let you keep getting high off of Elfa. You’ve already caught a glimpse of what’s out there.” It paused, then continued, answering a question that popped into my head as it said that. “No, what you saw - the cities, the beings, everything - it’s all real. Beautiful, wasn’t it? Now, like I said, I’m happy to help you get high, but you have to do some things for me.”

I started to answer hesitantly, but the hesitancy was all for show. I was trying my hardest to not answer quickly and eagerly, because I was willing to do anything - anything - for some more of that high.

“So,” I said, trying to sound sufficiently slow and reluctant, “what do you need me to do?”

Then he told me, and left. Now, many of you may think that what I ended up doing was just fucked up, and I’ll be honest with you, it kind of was. But, I was a fiend, I needed my fix, and so I was able to justify it to myself.

It took me a full day to find a stray cat, and then a couple of hours later I’m out in the forest cutting its throat open and bleeding it out into this bowl I’d brought with me. Then, when the cat was fully bled out and completely dead… now stay with me here, when it was fully bled out and completely dead, I drank its blood from the bowl. All of it. It tasted fucking bitter, and I felt like I was gonna vomit, but I forced it all down. I know, I know how this sounds and even looks. I murdered a cat and drank its blood because a voice in my head told me to. What can I say? Elfa did so much for me, and I needed it just that badly.

So I get home, pop an Elfa, and sure enough, I’m brought to heights I’d never conceived of. This was even better than the first high I’d gotten. I felt like I didn’t even have a body, like… how do I describe this… like I didn’t even exist, like I was just the peaceful background radiation of the universe.

I saw things, too, this time immediately. I saw entire cities of stone and glass suspended in the stars, with beings I can’t even begin to describe scurrying back and forth in them. I saw flights of angels streaking across an endless sky, bright trails of light being left behind in the wake of their wings.

Then, after what seemed like an eternity of bliss, I woke up in bed, as if I’d had the best sleep of my life.

I got up, and made myself breakfast, then hit the town. I didn’t feel the craving then. I never did right after I used Elfa - that was the trick of it, and I do think it was how the Kingmaker managed me. He would manipulate the high and my need in some sick sort of alternating balance, I’d soon discover.

The sky was clear of clouds, and the sun was so bright. As I walked, I just started… thinking, about life, about me. I started to think about my sister. Jenny, oh God, Jenny. Her dark hair, her warm but mischievous smile, and how she’d always been so full of light and energy. I remembered all that, and most of all I remembered how much she loved me, even when everything turned to shit.

As I was walking through the city, ignoring people’s stares (let’s face it, my clothes were ratty as fuck), I started to miss her. I hadn’t missed her in the time I’d been gone. I mean, to be honest, that was because I didn’t let myself miss her, because I didn’t want that level of hurt. This time… this time, though, I started to think on her, and I started to wonder what it’d take for me to get back into her life.

I thought a lot about that as I walked, and then I made my way back home. Then, for the next week, I lived in a blissful haze of Elfa and heroin.

Then the high stopped, and the Kingmaker called on me once again.

“Danny.” That calm, smooth voice. It didn’t sound any different, but… well, something about it this time, it chilled me to the bone. I guess I somehow sensed the true nature behind it.

I was laying in bed, blissful in the afterglow of Elfa - the high having dissipated hours ago, but traces of it still present. Hearing the voice, I shot up in bed, my entire being at full alert.

“Yeah?” I asked sleepily. The Kingmaker didn’t waste any time in responding.

“I need you to do something for me again.” Short, and to the point.

“What?” I answered, curious.

“There is a man who will be leaving his work place tomorrow evening, at a particular office building downtown, I’ll direct you to it when the time comes. You’ll know who he is when you see him.” Then an odd silence.

I waited, then asked, somewhat impatiently, “And? What am I supposed to do then?”

“You are to kill him, with a knife, and cut his heart out and eat it.”

My eyes widened, and after a moment of confusion, I started to laugh.

“Okay, no, you’re fucking me. You don’t want me to do that.”

“I do.” His voice was flat, deadpan.

The reality of the situation sunk in, and I started to shake - not from withdrawal this time, but from fear.

“No, no no,” I started to mutter, shaking my head. “I-I can’t. No, I won’t.” Murdering an animal? Fucked up, but doable. But this? I mean, Christ, there’s a huge difference between a stray cat and a fucking person. I wasn’t gonna do it, and that was that.

The Kingmaker remained silent for a few brief moments, and then spoke again. “Fine. Have it your way. But I have a feeling you’ll see things my way eventually.” That was it. He said that, and didn’t say anything to me for a long time after that.

At first I thought I’d got off easy. Like, ‘oh, you’ll see things my way eventually’. Pfft. What the hell was that, anyways? No, asshole, I’m not gonna see things your way, so fuck off. As for the Elfa… well, even a dope fiend has his limits.

Or so I thought.

The craving hit hard in under half an hour. At 1PM, I was cooking myself some breakfast. By 2PM, I was pacing back and forth, in physical agony and not even able to think about anything but Elfa. God, Elfa. The things that drug could do to me, would do to me if I’d only see reason, I was thinking. But I still had my resolve, my will. I wasn’t gonna go and murder someone for a fix. That wasn’t me.

But then the evening came. Before then, during the day, I’d slammed some heroin to take the edge off. I got some high, but not nearly enough to make myself comfortable again, even after taking an amount that would have killed me had I taken it a month ago. The pain felt like it was in my very bones, and my body was slick with sweat, and I really felt like I was gonna die. I didn’t know if I’d make it to tomorrow. Then… and, look, I get it. When I tell you this part, you’ll hate me. I know you will. But you need to understand - junkies, when the junk has got ahold of us, it… it takes over our lives. It takes over everything. When the need is bad enough, well…

Basically, I started to rationalize it all to myself. What the Kingmaker wanted me to do. Like, everyone dies, right? Life is full of tragedy, and a lot of it senseless. Besides, who’s to say the guy wouldn’t get in a terrible car accident, or something like that, a week down the road? What’s one week taken off his lifetime? Really? And, I mean, maybe this Kingmaker person was actually God, which did make a weird sort of sense given how he could control my high. If he was God, then wasn’t I doing God’s will by killing this guy? Who could argue with that?

Long story short, the next evening I was in my hoodie crouched behind this poor bastard’s car, a knife gripped in my hand. What had put me there was a bunch of half-assed, shaky as hell justifications and rationalizations that would have collapsed the second they were critically examined by anyone other than myself.

So I’m there, and I’m waiting. The craving had gone way way down since I decided to go for this. It was the Kingmaker’s doing, I knew. Finally, after a few minutes, I caught sight of the guy. He looked to be mid-forties, with graying temples. He was dressed in a sleek business suit that must have cost a fortune, and was carrying a black briefcase. He impatiently checked his phone as he approached the car, and was putting it back into his pocket just as he reached the car and as I jumped out.

The parking lot was clear except for his car, and the two of us. He’d worked late. So no one heard as I forced my body against his, or as I started stabbing the knife into his neck - over and over again, as hard as I could - as he screamed his head off. No one heard as I was straddling his lifeless body minutes later, blood covering my hands and arms as I started to cut into his chest. No one heard that, and no one heard as I bit into his wet, meaty, red heart, forcing the meat and the blood down in hard swallows as I desperately tried not to vomit it all back up.

I was back at my place a couple hours later. I was sobbing harder than I’d ever sobbed before as I entered my room. I felt like I didn’t deserve to live, because I knew I didn’t. I couldn’t get that next hit of Elfa in me fast enough. I needed to kill the pain. More than anything else, I needed to.

I don’t need to describe the high. It was, as usual, amazing, and it did drown out the pain and horror I felt at having done what I did. Just blissful, peaceful eternity. Then it ended, and the Kingmaker called me again.

“Danny.” Smooth, calm, collected as ever. Me hearing it as I laid on my bed, perpetually growing traces of withdrawal stabbing their icy fingers into my bloodstream as he spoke to me.

“What do you need?” I asked flatly. I was drained, powerless, lacking all strength and energy. I was his slave, and we both knew it. I felt so horribly small, so weak.

“Go to the beach tonight. Make a bonfire, and bleed over it. The flame will turn green, and that way you’ll know it worked.”

“Know that what worked?” I asked, but he didn’t respond. He was gone, and almost immediately, I started to feel the withdrawal far, far more.

So hours later, with the moon shining bright above me, I carefully and steadily cut my arm open over the bonfire I’d prepared. The flames eagerly licked the air with the sheer heat from it bathing my face and body. As my blood hit the fire, the flame turned green and jumped high into the air. Then something weird happened. I saw, for a brief moment in the flames, a horrifying beast. I can’t describe it. The ripples of its muscles, the sharp, bloodied claws, the skin that looked like it had been boiled… our eyes met briefly, and I felt - I knew - true fear at that point. True, overwhelming, absolute fear.

An hour later, I was in my bedroom rolling on Elfa. Something was odd, though. The high didn’t penetrate me quite fully. I still felt anxious, unnerved, scared, based on what I’d experienced back at the bonfire. Eventually, the high wore off and as it did, I finally found the strength inside of me to try and get out. To try and put the Kingmaker, and the Elfa, behind me. I was unsure and unsteady, but something about what I saw at the bonfire changed something inside of me. I had to at least try to get out. To do that, I’d start with my sister. I guess I’d found a small kernel of strength in me, powered by hope.

The next day, after I’d dug up enough information on her on the Internet, I was walking to a nice-looking office high-rise downtown. I was going to meet my sister as she left work that day. This would be the first time I’d seen her in years, and I didn’t know how to feel about it. But the truth was, I had nothing at that point. Nothing - apart from Elfa and the Kingmaker. I wanted to get out, but I needed support. I knew I couldn’t do it alone. That was why I wanted to go to Jenny - she was my sister, and I really felt that, somewhere deep down, she still loved me. I didn’t even consider going to my parents - too ashamed.

Anyways, I made it to her building and waited at the foot of the steps leading up to the main entrance. It was huge and all glass, the sun shining through and reflecting off of it. I had timed my arrival to be right at the end of her day, so I didn’t get ambushed by security before she showed up.

Sure enough…

I spotted her coming down the steps, briefcase in hand and her clad in a sharp pantsuit. She was even more beautiful than she looked in the pictures - a sharp face, with jet black hair tied into a short ponytail, and bright green eyes. She looked so different, yet at the same time, just how I remembered her.

As she approached, I stepped forward and called out her name. “Jenny!”

She looked up and, catching sight of me, automatically recoiled - in fear, horror and disgust. Then she just stopped, and squinted a tiny bit, really looking at me, and then her eyes went wide.

“Danny?” she whispered, in a kind of half-gasp.

Later we were standing outside a coffee shop across the street from her work. We couldn’t go in because the owners wouldn’t let me - me personally - inside. I looked like a fucking mess, and I hadn’t showered since I started using Elfa. Still, I was excited, even though Jenny was… not. She kept glancing around, the only consistent movement with her eyes being that she refused to meet mine. I sensed this odd coldness coming from her. Later, I’d realize why.

“Jenny,” I gushed, the withdrawals starting to come on, but just barely. “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” she responded immediately, all too quickly, before asking a question. “What do you want?”

I was taken aback by her shortness with me, but I didn’t think too much of it, even though I guess I should have.

“I wanna get clean.” I had such hope and energy in my voice.

Finally, her eyes met mine - and in them, I saw. I really, really saw. Just this coldness - hatred, even. It finally sunk in - she wasn’t going to be my saviour. My soul sank as I realized, and started to internally curse myself for being so stupid.

“So,” she said, her voice like ice, “you think you can just forget about everything - what you put all of us through - and try to worm your way back into my life?” I found it odd that she said ‘my life’, and not ‘our life’, as in her, Mom and Dad. I filed that away as I responded.

“Jen, come on,” I said, laughing nervously, “don’t be like this. I’m really trying he-” but she cut me off.

“You’re not gonna get clean and we both know it, let’s be honest with ourselves.” Her voice was flat and cold. I just stared at her. She’d changed. Something inside of her - she wasn’t the warm, bubbly teenage girl and then young woman that I once knew. In the dead silence between us, she said one final thing.

“Don’t contact me again. If I see you again, if I hear from you again, I will get the police involved.” With that, she abruptly brushed past me and started to quickly walk away.

A mix of emotions flooding into my being, I thought quickly and then, deciding on one last gamble, called out to her.

“Jen! What about Mom and Dad? How are they?”

She stopped abruptly, and slowly turned around, a look of confusion on her face. The kind of look that said “how could you not know?” Then it softened, with her realizing that whatever it was, there was no way for me to know. She called out, “Mom died of cancer five years ago, and Dad died of a heart attack last year.” Then she turned, and walked off, quickly rounding a corner.

I just stared after her, completely silent with everything inside of me crashing down all around me. My God, Mom and Dad… As I thought on that, the tears just started to run forth. Everything I’d done - to them, to Jen, to myself - it was all a fucking waste. Now I truly had nothing. Not just no family, but no hope, either. It all started to sink in. I wasn’t going to get clean. I wasn’t going to break free of the Kingmaker. It was all a sucker’s game. That’s all it was and was all it’d ever be. How could I have been so goddamned stupid?

I made it home quickly enough. Sure enough, as I entered the door, I heard that smooth voice of his.

“Danny. I need you to do one more thing for me, then we’ll be done for now.” The withdrawals weren’t that intense when he asked - I guess he knew where my mind was at with him at this point.

“What do you need?” I asked immediately. He answered, and I set about carrying out his wishes immediately. I was fully intent on doing whatever he needed. I’d learned to face the facts - this was my life now. Elfa, and the Kingmaker. The three of us tied together in a sordid and twisted dance of dominance, craving and power.

It didn’t take long for me to get to the dilapidated, run-down hotel in the ghetto of my city. I was steadfast as I walked through the lobby, its cracked and graffiti-laden hallways appearing to widen ahead of me, a sort of ceremonial sign of respect to the representative of a king. I wasn’t nervous as I knocked on the door on the top floor, and I wasn’t nervous when I saw her as she opened the door. Looked to be about mid-twenties, shaved head, various tattoos up and down her arms. I noticed the signs of early addiction - the track marks on her arms, and the visual signs on her face of the drugs wearing her down. I stepped in and closed the door behind me, and we went to work.

The sex was frenetic and hurried, but not passionate, but rather mechanical. All that was in my ears was the sound of our bodies pressing against each other, and our respective gasps. Finally, I climaxed, and it was over. My part was done.

I headed home immediately after, and popped some Elfa. I laid on my bed and closed my eyes as I drifted off into the blissful haze of the drug.

Except instead of encountering what I wanted - needed - to encounter, I encountered something else.

I opened my eyes and felt a massive, overwhelming wave of horror and terror. I saw a fast, jumbled montage of images, each with its own complex set of emotions. First was imagery of the tasks the Kingmaker had had me carry out - the killing of the stray cat, the murder and the cannibalism, the bleeding, the sex. Then the sight of the moving bodies of myself and the woman shifted and twisted until there was a vision of a woman in a room, giving birth. The baby screamed as it came out, but something about the sight of it chilled me. Before I could get a closer look, there was now a vision of a group of black robed figures in a warehouse. Then a person in a white robe stepped forward, with a woman’s figure. She lowered her hood, and… God, she wasn’t even human. Her skin was red - too red - and scaled as well. It looked like it had been boiled in water for hours.

She lowered herself to her knees, leaned forward and started to retch. Finally, she vomited forth a human heart - at least that’s what it looked like. Black, wet and pumping by itself on the floor. Then… then the heart started to grow. It got bigger, and bigger, and by the time twenty seconds had passed, it was the size of a person. Then a claw - twisted and curled, with long, incredibly sharp claws - burst out of the giant heart, with another claw bursting forth and ripping the flesh of its prison open. Finally stepping out was a beast, and… I recognized it. It was the beast I’d seen in the green flame at the beast, and it was horrifying. I felt fear - true, raw fear - stab into my heart with a fierceness I’d never known before, and more than I ever will again for the rest of my short life. And I knew - somehow, I don’t know how, but I knew - that this was the Kingmaker. The rest of what I saw… I can’t. It’s too terrible to describe.

The imagery and visions abruptly ceased and I shot up in my bed, shaking with raw fear and feeling completely vulnerable, more vulnerable than I’d ever felt before.

I spent the next five hours shaking and sobbing wildly, not even able to think. This was too much. This was too fucking much. I sobbed and shook, but in the end, I stopped myself. In the end, I forced myself to calm down, because I had to. Then, when I calmed myself down, I thought for about an hour, and decided what to do.

First thing, I flushed the rest of the Elfa. Something must have interrupted the Kingmaker’s high - I didn’t know and I didn’t really care. Then, I headed east - to Calgary. Get clean, that was my main goal. Before I thought I needed a saviour to get clean, that I needed my sister. That was bullshit, I realized - I just needed a big enough kick in the ass. I managed to get into a program, and I did the whole nine yards - stayed in that place for months. When I got out, I was a new man. Fresh, a new lease on life, a new hope. A new hope… what a weird thing to call it.

Anyways, the people in the program wanted to hook me up with a job, but I hit the road before they could. I had bigger plans. I spent the next three months tracking the woman who I’d seen in my vision - the one who gave birth. I was able to survive because I’d been hustling for years, and on the tracking side, I felt drawn to her. Deep down, I had this small, quiet feeling that told me where to go. Call it a divine connection or something. Whatever it was, it worked.

The first time I ever saw her - this virgin mother - she was living in a homeless shelter in Toronto, three months pregnant. I didn’t move on her then - I waited. I waited for a week, biding my time. Waiting for the right moment. Moments - especially crucial ones - are important, and the last thing you want to do is squander everything by moving in too hastily. Finally, the right time came.

She was heading back to the shelter late in the evening. The city was illuminated by the city lights - both those of the high rises and other buildings, and that of the street lights. I was walking toward her from behind, a few metres behind her, masses of moving people surrounding both of us. I sped up. Finally, I was right behind her, and I think she sensed me, because she was turning around to face me just as I raised the knife in my hand and jammed it into her ribs.

She cried out, screaming at the top of her lungs. I didn’t have long, so I stabbed her over and over all over her neck and body, including - especially - in her stomach. I needed to move fast, so that’s what I did. My movements were quick, but furious. I needed to get the job done right the first time, and in the end, I did. In less than a few seconds, she was on the ground, blood pouring out of her neck and body wounds. I knew my part was done. I could feel her dying - dunno how to explain that - and most importantly, I felt the child inside of her die.

I didn’t stick around. My panic rising and my need to escape taking over, I took off running, some Good Samaritans in hot pursuit. After racing through some alley ways and jumping some fences, I managed to lose them. But I knew the police would be there soon.

I kept moving, glancing all around me as I did. I needed to find cover - needed to find a place to hide. In managed to spot the back door of a high-rise open in an alleyway. I ducked in. Making my way up the stairwell and through a door, I found myself in an brightly lit, impeccably clean hallway. Expensive apartment building, for sure. I made my way down the hallway, my pulse racing and my heart pounding and the adrenaline pumping, but not sure of what to do. Finally, I happened on a maintenance room, the door slightly ajar. I peeked inside, and seeing no one, stepped inside and shut the door.

It had the usual things you see in a maintenance room. Interestingly, it also had a powered and logged in laptop, presumably belonging to the maintenance guy who stepped out. I closed the door behind me, locked it, and my adrenaline going haywire inside of me, I started to think. Shaking from the adrenaline and out of sheer nervousness and fear, I thought, and in the end, I finally decided what to do.

So here I am. I’ve written this story, because I need to leave an account of what happened. I need everyone to know why things happened the way they did. I need everyone to know why the woman died, why she had to die, and why I ended up where I am. I need to leave this account because I won’t be around to explain in court.

The knife is in my hand. After this is posted, I’ll slice my throat open to end everything. My suffering will end, and so will my role in this twisted, fucked up play I’ve found myself in. It’s hard. I’m crying my eyes out because I never imagined I’d find myself in this situation. It’s fucked, right?

Okay. Okay. I think I’m ready now.

But before I go, one last thing: if you ever hear of a drug called Elfa, or a person called the Kingmaker, well, do yourself a favor and run as far and as hard as you fucking can.