#dodo is waiting for violence

[dodomedic]

“imagine being a whole man and telling a lady how to get blood out of their sheets like they don’t experience menses. yes.”

[fiercynn]

Hey do you have any poetry you can suggest because I saw your response to that OP, I’d love some stuff to read!

so i started responding to another similar ask by @unitedstates0fdakota but i accidentally posted it when it was incomplete so i decided to continue here! check out that post for the first two recs, george abraham's birthright and romeo oriogun's sacrament of bodies

more than organs, kay ulanday barrett

kay ulanday barrett is a poet, performer, and educator, navigating life as a disabled filipinx-amerikan transgnder queer in the u.s. with struggle, resistance, and laughter. pamela sneed, one of the reviewers quoted on the back of more than organs, describes the collection as about “hunger that is physical, spiritual, and queer”, and i think hunger is an excellent way to put it. i love how the pieces in this collection oscillate between visceral and playful – there’s a poem called “pain, an epistle” but also one called “actually, jenny schecter wasn’t the worst”.

you googled “authentic” / & now are seated next to me. / as I speed walk you to the cart / aunty gives me the last dish / gets the idea that I’ve waited too long / for something to just taste right. / I wish for a dumpling stuff / of bullet skins to be the shrapnel / in every white man’s throat. / go ahead / say the word oriental / at my table / one more time. —  “I just want dimsum undisturbed by wypipo”

a theory of birds, zaina alsous

zaina alsous is a prison abolitionist, a daughter of the palestinian diaspora, and a movement worker in south florida. the blurb for a theory of birds describes it as “putting ecological conservation in conversation with arab racial formation, state vernacular with the chatter of birds”, and as someone who wanted to be an ornithologist as a child and now works in climate policy, it feels like she wrote this to speak to my soul.

Inside the dodo bird is a forest, Inside the forest a peach analog, Inside the peach analog a woman, Inside the woman a lake of funerals, disappointed male lovers, scientists, Inside the lake a volcano of whale songs, Inside the volcano a language of naming, Inside the language an algorithm for de-extinction, Inside the algorithm blued dynamite to dissolve the colony’s Sun, twinkle twinkle, I didn’t mean to fall in love with failure, its molting rapture, I didn’t mean to name myself from a necklace of silent vowels, I didn’t go looking from for the bird, I entered through the empty cage, hips first —  “Bird Prelude”

boy with thorn, rickey laurentiis

rickey laurentiis is a poet who was raised in new orleans, louisiana, to study light. this is true for a lot of poetry imo, but every piece in boy with thorn requires reading at least twice in a row, because laurentiis’s use of language is so deft and stuffed with meaning that i needed to experience it from different angles. the description for the collection tells us “in a landscape at once the brutal american south as it is the brutal mind, boy with thorn interrogates the genesis of all poetic creation—the imagination itself, questioning what role it plays in both our fascinations with and repulsion from a national history of racial and sexual violence”.

Therefore, my head was kingless. I was a head alone, moaning in a wet black field. I was like any of those deserter slaves whose graves are just the pikes raised for their heads, reshackled, blue and plain as fear. All night I whistled at a sky that mocked me, that fluently changed its grammar as if to match desire in my eye. My freedom is possible, it said. —  “Conditions for a Southern Gothic”

eye level, jenny xie

this is kind of cheating because i first read eye level when it came out in 2017, but i recently reread it so i feel like it counts! jenny xie was born in anhui province, china, and now lives in the united states. eye level travels with xie from phnom penh to corfu to hanoi to new york city, and her descriptions piercing, sensual, and bottomless.

Sunday, awake with this headache. I pull apart the evening with a fork. White clot behind the eyes. Someone once told me, before and after is just another false binary. The warmed-over bones of January. I had no passport. Beneath the stove, two mice made a paradise out of a button of peanut butter. Suffering operates by its own logic. Its gropics and reversals. Ample, in ways that are exquisite. And how it leaves —not unlike how it arrives, without clear notice. —  “Zuihitsu”

i also post about english-language palestinian poetry (both written in english and in translation) in my #palestinian poets series, each of which features poems you can find online!

[pepsi-maxwell]

Sunday Six!

in which i post more than six sentences, because cmjf vurt au and i'm currently enthralled by it (and yes i am still working on corset fic and... other fic)

prerequisite knowledge: in this au, vurt feathers are akin to a drug that transports users into a shared dream state. of these, there are five colours, but we only care about 3: pink (porn), black (violence), and yellow (knowledge and risk of real death)

there are also five states of being that can crossbreed and overlap, but i'm only using them for flavour so don't worry about it! the five states are human, dog, robo, vurt, shadow

punk's got a touch of shadow in him. max has a drop of vurt in his blood

dodo is slang for people immune to vurt, who can't partake in the shared dream

snippet below the cut, tagging @pepsipiss and anyone who reads this and wants to play!

-

It looks like something that could have been plucked from a bird of paradise.

It’s a glossy, inky black feather, turning a lurid shade of pink about a third away from the tip, and as Max holds it up to the light, the entire thing glimmers golden, a barely there hint of yellow.

Pink for Pornovurts, black for violence. And yellow...

Yellow for knowledge. A pure yellow feather would mean the risk of true death, not just jerking out of the vurt and back into the real world. Play the game to the end.

The black alone would make it contraband, but this...

This is a highly illegal feather.

“She's pretty, isn't she? Sure I can't tempt you?” Max asks, a hint of challenge in his voice, because he knows Punk will refuse, that yes, the drug-free tattoo across his knuckles includes this drug, too.

Punk blinks at him slowly, cat-like, waits for Max’s smug expression to turn to apprehension.

“Where did you get it,” he asks, wordless and smoky, straight into Maxwell's mind, because he knows Max fucking hates when he does it.

“A gift from a friend,” he says, projecting his thoughts in such a way that Punk sees with clarity, without even intending to; the Dogman at the Vurt-U-Want, touch of golden retriever from the looks of his hair, and the ears. The disappointment on his face when Max had responded to his offer to take the feather with him with complete dismissal.

“And I don’t care if you don’t want to try it,” he adds dismissively, eyeing up the feather and running the pink tip across his pink lips, like he belongs in that pink feather. “You want to play dodo, go ahead. More fun for me.”

Punk fights the urge to roll his eyes. Max gets like this sometimes. Petulant, contrary. Making a big deal out of whatever feather he’s found, trying to taunt Punk with it.

It’s going to be one of those nights.

“And what’s it called,” he replies, still wordless, increasingly tense, shadowsmoke rising over his skin. He's already steeling himself for the usual fight, telling Max to find some place else to take it, bad enough that he'd brought it into Punk’s house in the first place.

“Dog Collar,” Max says, trying his damned hardest to sound unaffected by Punk projecting his words into his head.

Punk stiffens in his seat. Sits up straighter, the smoke dissipating around him as Max continues talking. “It’s a vintage feather. And no, it’s not like Bitch In Heat, or Pack Flight, or whatever dogvurt bullshit you're thinking of.”

He isn’t, in fact, thinking of any dogman vurts, but that’s only because—

Max looks at him. Looks at the feather, then back at him, and his thoughts must show on his face, because Max pulls a face of his own. “Seriously?" He asks. “You? You’ve done this feather? Mr Straight-Edge?”

Even the words are enough to trigger the memory. Of twenty years back, running with the Gathering.

With Raven.

[sofiiel]

There & Back Again : xreader addition (fem/afab)

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: 8.7k words: (CW: angst. hurt/comfort. canon level violence.)

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"Wait...what! Hey!" Rick shouted as he saw the white van disappear from the corner of his eyes.

Scott and Jeff looked away from where they stood waiting on lemonade and quickly abandoned their hopes for it. Sprinting as fast as they could back to the caravan.

"Holy shit, where'd they go?!" Jeff shouted as he joined Rick wandering in the place the white van was once parked.

The three turned about but could not, for the life of them, find it or any trace of those that were inside.

"You think Kali has hidden it?" Scott asked.

"Did they abandon us?" Jeff asked.

"Maybe Kali and her crew just didn't sign up for this much trouble." Scott reasoned.

Rick looked at the boys with a troubled gaze, He didn't want to have to tell them.

"Why is everyone shouting..." Eddie muttered, exiting the van via the driver's door.

Gail timidly hopped out behind him, biting her lip nervously. She watched as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Eddie looked where the three of them stood, "Where's the van?" he asked hesitantly.

Gareth hopped out of the van as well, hearing the gathering. 

"Somebody should tell ____ they've left." Scott said.

The color drained from Eddie's face, "She isn't in my van," he said, thumb pointing over his shoulder.

His eyes wandered to the open road ahead of them.

"Amy?" Eddie asked.

Rick shook his head, and Eddie rushed to him.

"Angel?" he asked Rick.

"They got into the van, kid." Rick sighed.

Eddie stood looking into Rick's eyes in disbelief. He cracked a shaky smile.

"No," he said, shaking his head, "No we didn't come through all this just for..." Eddie's words cut off.

Backing away, he jogged up the road. "McKinney!" He called out, cupping his hands around his mouth. 

You drew in a sharp breath, his figure was getting smaller, almost a speck as you looked through the back window.

"I'm sorry." you thought.

"Damn it!" Eddie yelled.

"____! Angel!" he shouted down the road.

Gail and the boys moved to Eddie quietly, each resting a hand on him.

"Eddie." Gail called softly.

He was quick to shake them free of him, "Don't!" he snapped. His fists clenched tight.

You turned away from the window, touching your chest lightly, "It hurts," you winced.

"Emotional energy can be kinetic as well if it's strong enough." Kali said.

"Try to ignore it, for now, we'll be far enough away soon - you won't feel it." Angel said. 

Amy scowled, "ugh, how cold can you be," she snapped at him.

"He's angry," you murmured.

"He's hurt, not angry, not at you anyway." Kali reasoned.

"Axel, turn on some music, we need to cause some interference," she ordered.

"Gladly." Axel hummed, turning the radio on and blasting it.

You could feel the whole van shake with the bass. But it wasn't enough, a burning constriction had a hold on your lungs.

"Doris." Angel spoke in a dry, chilly tone.

"Yeah?" she asked.

Angel's gaze was fixed on you.

"Tell him to stop." Angel said, glancing back at Doris, "he's only hurting her."

Doris nodded and closed her eyes.

"Eddie,"

Doris' voice echoed in Eddie's head.

He nearly jumped out of his skin. "Son of a- Doris!?" Eddie asked, turning about to look for her.

"I'm not actually there, dude. Look, stop kicking up a fuss. We're doing what has to be done. You're hurting her, we'll get your little girlfriend back to you someday."

Doris stated.

"Bullshit, Dodo. You turn that van around and bring them back!" Eddie shouted. 

"What the hell is going on?" Gareth asked, watching Eddie with wide-eyed as he shouted at nothing.

"Doris is in my head," Eddie growled.

"You bring them back, how am I supposed to go back without-" Eddie's words stopped as he felt alone in his own head.

"Doris?" He asked.

"shit." Eddie cursed.

"Wait, what about the tracker, isn't it still in the truck?" Scott asked.

No sooner had he said so than they ran for Rick's truck. Rick opened the lock box in the truck bed.

"Yeah, they didn't take it." Rick called with a smile.

"Didn't Doris operate it last time?" Gail questioned with a brow raised.

"Hey, I helped, alright. I can manage on my own." Rick scowled, He and Scott worked fast to get it set up in the back of the truck.

Eddie closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, but it wasn't working.

"Eddie...she's not doing it to hurt you, she wants to protect you, all of you." Gail said to him calmly, waiting next to him near the Van.

Eddie crouched as he held his head letting out a growl of frustration He looked at the leather around his wrist and frowned, He'd been meaning to give it back to her. 

"I can't go back without her." Eddie said.

It wasn't just that he didn't want to leave her behind, but people would question why she'd not come back. The summer concert was only supposed to be a two-day thing, it had already been nearly a week.

The pain in your chest started to fade with distance, you could breathe more clearly again.

"Better?" Angel asked you.

She gave a feeble nod, "At least as far as the pain goes, yes." you said.

"I still feel like an ass." your voice trembled.

"Munson's feelings are always out of control, little bastards got some strong emotions," Angel said with a playful smirk. 

"So I've noticed." you sighed.

Angel looked you over and frowned lightly. Getting up, he knelt near your seat and took your hands.

"Here" He spoke quietly.

Where his hands touched your skin crawled briefly, the crawling turned into a pulling sensation. Soon after your arms felt cold, but the remaining pain in your chest formed around your lungs and traveled up your shoulders and down through your arms.

The pain disappeared altogether after it collected in your palms and fingertips.

"Let me take it. I'm used to a little pain," Angel said, "In fact, I'll welcome it." He added.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, "You just-" you gasped.

He flashed you a crooked smile, exposing his canine, "Impressive?" he asked you. 

"But...what happens when you expend all the strength you have left?" you asked.

Angel side glanced, "Nothing, I just won't be able to be much help for a while..."

He may have spoken with a casual air, but the fact that he refused to look you in the eye made it feel like a lie.

"Bullshit, what really happens?" Amy called out.

Doris laughed, "she has your whole hall card, Pete."

Angel glared at Amy, "As I said Nothing. Besides, I didn't expend much just now. Let me worry about myself." He muttered.

Angel then stroked the top of your head with an almost innocent smile.

"When you learn to use your abilities, you can return the favor." He said.

"But what if that isn't part of my skill set?" you asked.

Angel shrugged a single shoulder, "You'll have something I can use." He said, looking out the window.

He focused on the gently falling rain outside and the pale gray skies.

"Who knows, I might need a rainy day." he said.

You looked down at your hands as you murmured, "I'm sorry I can't make it stop, I'm not sure why or how I'm even doing it..."

"You're sad. Bad emotions bring the rain." Angel said, glancing back at you.

"How do you know?" asked Funshine.

"He tells me things," Angel said quietly.

Funshine looked at Axel, who also looked unsettled.

"Don't tell me you're one of them crazies, man, do I need to keep an eye on you?" Axel said.

Angel laughed, "I'm hardly crazy, but that doesn't mean you should let your guard down." he shot in a cold tone.

Axel grimaced, "yeah, don't like you." He muttered.

Mick pulled the car to a stop at a pay phone. You, Amy and Angel piled out of the van with Kali.

"I just need to make a few calls," you said.

"Take your time, I think we're far enough now you won't have to worry about them catching up," Funshine said with a reassuring smile to combat your nerves. 

"The question is which 'them' are you talking about?" Amy muttered. 

"We're going to go see what supplies we can get our hands on." Mick called from the driver's seat.

"Do you need me to go?" Kali asked.

"You kidding? We were using five-finger discounts long before your crazy powers, Kal. We're good." said Axel as Funshine closed the doors. 

"We'll meet you right here in about 20 minutes or so," Axel said before the van road away.

You walked up to the phone booth and exhaled, a shakey hand popping change in. The first call would be the easiest. Chrissy, something told you she wouldn't pry too much and might even understand to an extent, it was something in her eyes.

"Hello?"

A bright voice chimed on the other end of the line.

"Um, yes - this is ____ McKinney....Chrissy, is that you?" you asked. 

The voice on the other end gasped,

"____! Oh my goodness, where are you? Are you ok? "

She asked. 

"I'm fine, yes. I'm sorry if I caused you too much trouble. I just - I decided I'm not coming back home. I have my reasons. The guys I came out here with should be home soon, I want people to know it's not their fault. I chose this, I'll be back - eventually, but I needed to tell you, so you wouldn't be trying to cover for me." you explained.

"You're not coming back?"

Chrissy questioned, clearly confused.

You sighed voice tinged with guilt, "I'm sorry I didn't get to show you much about ballet, but if you go to my house, I'm sure my mom or Pat can give you my ballet books, they should help a bit."

"I'm not worried about that, are you sure you're ok?"

Chrissy asked, concern clear in her voice.

"Yes," you tried to put a smile in your words, "I am."

"Well, then I guess that's the most important thing. I hope you find what you're looking for, ____."

Chrissy stated.

"You're very kind," you said.

Chrissy giggled,

"uh huh, I better let you go, I'm sure you have other calls to make, see you, ____."

She said.

"Goodbye Chrissy," you replied, hanging up the line.

Chrissy was left looking at her phone, she was no less confused, but she was sure she could seek Robin out about it later.

You popped in another quarter and dialed.

"Hello? Buckley residence."

Robin's voice came through in a distracted sigh.

You remained silent for a moment, "Maybe I should have called home first, she won't make this easy on me..." you thought.

"Hello?"

Robin questioned.

Silence lingered, and Robin drew in a breath,

"____?"

She questioned. 

Still the silence, Robin held the phone with both hands,

"L-look if you're there just say something, I'm freaking out over here, and I just need to know if-"

"I'm ok Robin, " you said quickly. 

Robin exhaled and smiled faintly,

"Oh my god, w-where have you been? I come home, and you're hanging out with Chrissy Cunningham and - and going to concerts with strange boys."

Robin said, somewhere between disbelief and continued panic.

"I...a lot happened," you said.

"I bet, well I expect details when you get back, which I assume is soon, yeah?"

Robin said.

you fell silent again.

"It's soon right? Right ____?"

Robin asked, heart racing as unease sank back in.

"I'm not coming back Ro-"

"Of course you are!"

Robin shouted.

She quickly covered her mouth and looked about.

"Oh, that was loud."

You heard Robin whisper.

You gave a small smile, "I'm not Robin, at least not for some time. But I'm ok - I just...have things I need to find out about myself." you explained.

"How long is some time? And what things? Did you like miraculously finding a clue about your family or something? Or did that asshole dad of yours run you off?"

Robin asked.

You looked to Kali, Amy and Angel.

"I don't know...but I guess you could say that, yes, I found a clue about my family." you said as Kali smiled at you.

"And more - look, I will call whenever I can. But I'm ok, really. I'm sorry to just leave like this, But you're my best friend Robin, I wouldn't leave you behind if I didn't have to." you added.

Robins could feel the water in her eyes,

"You're my only friend, ____."

Robin whispered.

"How long is some time?"

Robin asked again.

"I don't know, I'm sorry. I really am." you answered weakly.

Robin chuckled bitterly on the other end of the phone.

"This is gonna sound stupidly selfish but...Robin, I need a favor. You're the only one I have to do this." you said.

Robin sniffled,

"Oh? Lay it on me and we'll see."

She said.

"I went to the concert with Eddie Munson and his band, They should be coming back home soon. Robin, if anybody tries to blame them, It's *not* their fault. They tried everything to get me to change my mind." you stated carefully.

"The freak?"

Robin asked.

With a roll of your eyes, you smiled a bit, "He's not a freak,"

You paused a moment, "and um.... If you go to my room, there is a number on my dresser to a Mrs.Hargrove, I need you to let her know I'm out investigating my family and that I won't be able to babysit. And Shelob will need a new home for a while"

Robin exhaled,

"Fine, I can do that, even keep your creepy pet..."

She said.

"Thanks, Robin." you whispered.

"He...He might not be taking this well, Eddie. It-It's a long story but...look after him for me, ok?" you said, "and He'll look after you too."

"You're kind of freaking me out...why do you sound like that?"

Robin asked. 

"I'm just sentimental...you know, me." you tried to ease her worries, "I mean, you sound funny too." you shot. 

Robin scoffed,

"Um excuse me of course I sound funny, I'm saying goodbye to my -"

Robin stopped herself and cleared her throat,

"My bestie."

She said.

"I'll call, I promise. Wish me luck, maybe some time will be sooner than either of us think." you chimed.

"Stop it. You're freaking me out again! Like seriously."

Robin groaned. 

You sighed, the effort to sound cheerful was not working on her, "Right, well... I've got to call home now - wish me luck."

"If you don't come back within the summer, I am not going to forgive you, ____ McKinney,"

Robin said quickly in a shuddering breath.

You smiled and it came through to your words, "I've got a goal then, don't I? I'll try not to let you down Robin." you said.

You quickly hung up the phone and pawed at your eyes to rub away a few tears.

"One more call, hang in there," Amy said.

You puffed out the air in your lungs before drawing another deep breath.

"This one will be easier," you murmured.

"You should let me tell them," Amy said with a smirk.

Shaking your head you put in another quarter, letting your hand linger on the coin slot as it gave you a flashback.

The night Eddie saved you.

You shook your head, "Stop thinking about him, you're not helping yourself." you thought and dialed.

The house phone rang and rang, until you could hear your mother's voice speaking pleasantly over the voicemail.

"You have reached the McKinney Residence, we are sorry we are not available at this time. If you could kindly leave your name and number, we will get back to you as soon as possible, have a lovely day."

"Um yeah, Mom? Dad? It's me. I um...I wanted to say I won't be coming home for a while. It's not Chrissy's or anyone's fault. I just...I've found some clues about myself and I - I need to know. And Pat, I hope this brings you a moment of peace. I'm real sorry about this. Anyway, bye for now. I um, love you guys." you said, hanging up with a sigh.

you turned to your three waiting friends, "It's done, Angel do you have any calls to make." you asked.

Angel chuckled bitterly, "Nah, Rick's all I have, and I think he more than gets what is going on." He said 

"What about your band?" you asked.

Angel, tittered his head, "Eh, they're used to me going off. They're not actual friends, just lackeys who wanted to play with the most infamous musician at the Hideout." Angel said.

You looked at him quietly, your brows knitting together. He laughed.

"Don't look at me with those sad eyes, fairy. If you recall you didn't have anyone either to start." He said.

"I know, doesn't make it any better. Things changed for me." you said.

"Don't be so sad, I'll be the weirdo's friend." Amy sighed as if it had been a great chore.

"My don't I feel special," Angel said with a roll of his eyes.

"You should, I'm picky." Amy shot.

Kali laughed, "You three will fit in well with us." she hummed. "And you'll never be alone again." Kali added.

A horn honked behind them, "Come on let's go, we got a long road." Axel called, rolling down his window.

"And where are we going exactly?" Amy asked

"Chicago." said Funshine

"That's where we were headed before, well, everything," Kali explained.

"There are some lab techs in hiding there, apparently," said Doris.

"Sounds like a good start," Angel murmured heading for the Van.

You made to follow him and Kali, but your feet stopped. Looking back at the payphone, you looked it up and down.

"I know it's a long shot..." you thought, pulling a few quarters from your pocket.

Walking back, you lay them on the phone box ledge and in the change return slot.

"If you come looking...please turn back."  you thought, turning and jogging to the Van, you hopped in.

"Here, we got you some candy, chocolate bars are good for the soul." Doris said passing you a bag. 

Rick, Eddie and Gail sat in the truck in silence, headed up the highway as fast as they could while trying to avoid the chances of being pulled over.

The tracker was working, though the signal was faint, and they had no physical radar to look out to tell them the distance.

"We're running blind." Rick thought.

Eddie sat in silence, and Gail quietly held his hand to comfort him.

"It was right to send them back home." Gail said to him.

"Was it? They care about her too." Eddie asked.

"No, it's a good idea. ____ doesn't want anyone hurt, it's best to cut our numbers. It's three fewer people to worry about. Plus now we also know the guys will be safe." Rick reasoned.

"And they can run interference for you back home, in case any rumors spread," Gail jumped in.

Eddie sank down in the seat, "Yeah, it all sounds about right." He said.

"But can we talk her into coming back?" he asked.

Rick glanced at the two. "I don't know the kid too well," Rick said with a shrug.

"Neither do I, but I know enough that it won't be easy, you'd better have a plan, Eddie." Gail said.

"The plan is, she's coming back, or I'm gonna stay." Eddie muttered.

You walked into a pawn shop with Axel, Angel, and Funshine. The guy's arms were loaded with items. you had to admit the place looked fairly seedy.

You quietly entered with your bag of jewelry, looking around at all the odds and ends.

Axel bopped into the place with a large stereo on one shoulder and one of the guitars they'd stolen on the other.

Angel entered with an easy stride, carrying with him a glass sculpture of a greyhound that was nearly as large as a small child. You were never going to understand how that wasn't too heavy for him.

Funshine had with him a Tv set, it was less shocking the man was the hulk.

"Helloooo! anyone home?" Axel called out at the vacant counter as the four of them collected behind it.

"Yeah, yeah, hold your horses!" A voice worn by years of hard liquor and self-rolled cigarettes called out.

The clerk exited the backroom and lazily sauntered up to the counter.

"What can I do for you?" He asked, eying the group with dull eyes.

"Can you help a couple of lowlifes get concert money?" Axel chimed with a charismatic smile.

"You see, Sugarplum down there is about to graduate, and we're taking her to her first concert." Axel lied, smiling towards you.

"And short man over here, as the boyfriend had decided to pawn some of his old man's heirlooms...god rest his soul." He continued.

The man behind the counter did not look like he wanted much of an explanation. 

"What's in the bag?" asked the clerk, nodding towards you. 

Unsure if you could lie as smoothly as Axel had, you looked to him and Angel.

"It's ok, baby girl." Angel said playing his role.

The words coming out of his mouth made you want to double over in laughter. However, as you tried to contain it, your nerves were shaken away.

"Um, some Jewelry," you said, placing the purse on the counter and slowly taking each piece out.

"Make it look like they matter to you," you told yourself.

The guy looked down at her, "What are these? How's a kid like you got jewelry like this?" He asked.

You gave a guilty smile, "They used to be my Geegee's old jewelry." you said putting on a timid face.

"I...I used to play in them when I was small." you confessed.

The man's gaze softened a bit. Funshine held back a smile as he watched the man start to cave.

Make no mistake, he could sell them for a pretty penny, so he was going to buy them. But it was in his eyes that he'd felt bad for you. 

"Your first concert, huh?" He asked.

You gave an eager nod, "Yeah! My old man never let me listen to my music loud, made me listen to classical music trying to make me a 'proper' lady." you said.

The man behind the counter laughed.

"Well, he must be somewhere crying if these are your friends," The man said.

You tried to toss a smitten look back at Angel, and you'd pulled it off better than he'd expected, as his heart skipped several beats.

"He tried to shoot you, didn't he, Jimmy," you said with a giggle.

Angel smirked.

"Tried, is the keyword." Funshine said.

"Look... I can give you two hundred for the frost, and another two for the dog, TV and the stereo. I can only go about 20 for the guitar." The man said. 

"You have a deal, sir," Funshine said happily as he and Angel sat down their items.

The man behind the counter started to count out the money, "Hey look, Jimmy? Was it? If your old man's got any more heirlooms you'd like to unload. Here's the place, I'll give you the best price with no questions asked." He said to Angel.

Angel simply nodded, "Thanks, I'll remember that." he said, taking the money from him.

"And you have a grand time, sweetheart." the man called to you.

You placed on the biggest, over-excited grin you could muster and gave Angel a sugary smitten smile once more.

"Thanks, mister!" you cheered, taking Angel's hand and waving before running out of the store.

Axel and Funshine followed behind you laughing.

"Jesus, that was over the top," Axel laughed, holding his gut as they stopped a few buildings up the block.

"It was so bad. But he believed it." Angel shrugged.

"Baby Girl?" you said face scrunched up as you shuddered.

"I don't do pet names, it's all I could think of," Angel shruged.

"What about fairy then?" Funshine asked.

Angel frowned, "That's not a pet name, it's a nickname." He reasoned. 

Axel reached down and pinched your cheek, "Luckily, Sugarplum here as such a sweet face." He called in the tone used for toddlers.

You swatted Axel's hand away, "Ouch" you muttered, rubbing your face. 

"I feel guilty for lying to that guy, but that was kind of fun. Do you think he knew the stuff was stolen?" you asked quietly.

"Oh, he knew something was up that's why he offered that we come back - He just simply doesn't care," Angel said.

Looking up the street they could see Kali, Doris, Mick and Amy returning with the van.

"At least we've got enough to pay for a room and food for a while." Funshine said pleased.

"And speaking of food, I'm starved." Axel grumbled.

The sun began to set by the time Rick, Eddie, and Gail decided to stop for a rest. They monitored the tracker outside a burger place, eating in and on the truck. It was quiet among them, each lost in their own thoughts.

Eddie's eyes wandered over to the payphone across the street, "She left without saying goodbye but...." Eddie lifted his head and slowly set his burger back into the bag.

"She'd call Robin," Eddie muttered, hopping out of the bed of the truck he jogged across the street reaching into his pockets.

"What's gotten into you now?" Rick called out to him, but Eddie wasn't listening nor could he hear.

Rushing inside the phone booth Eddie went to put in a quarter when a silver glint caught his eyes as the streetlights came on.

Eddie stuck his quarter into his pocket and took up the one on the metal phone box.

As he did, two more quarters fell from it.

"What?" Eddie mouthed, picking them up from the floor, seventy-five cents.

"Who leaves behind three quarters?" he asked himself. Curious, he stuck his finger in the change return flap. Metal scraped against the bottom.

"No..." Eddie thought, pulling the three-quarters out carefully into his palm.

"No, it can't be..." He exhaled as he looked down at the dollar fifty worth of quarters in his palm.

Eddie smiled, and quickly closed the change in his palm, running back to the truck. 

"We're on the right track!" he cheered.

The wide grin on his face almost startled Gail and Rick as he came running along, hair bouncing in the wind.

"And you know this because?" Rick asked.

Eddie rushed to them, folding his fingers away to show the change in his hand.

"She left a sign." Eddie exhaled, still grinning.

"Change?" Gail asked carefully, "Eddie... I hate to burst your happy bubble, but, anybody could have left that." She said.

"It's the exact amount she owed me after the night we first met," Eddie said, his grin falling into a soft smile. 

Gail and Rick looked at each other worried, "She's probably telling you to phone home as in go home. I'm sure she was aware you might try and follow her somehow." Gail reasoned gently.

Eddie still looked at the change in his hand.

"You're probably right," he said.

Looking up at his two friends, "or" he sighed, "some part of her, wants me to follow." He said.

Rick shook his head, "Can we eat first?" He asked.

Eddie tilted his head with a grin, "Yeah, on the way." he said, hopping into the bed of the Truck.

Gail sighed and snatch her bag of food from the hood of the car.

"Well come on then, Rick, the signal will get fainter if we linger too long." she said, getting in the bed of the truck as well.

"And no one is going to ride inside and keep me company?" He asked.

"Nope, no friends for the faithless, Rick." Eddie said. 

"How'd I get wrapped up in this again?" Rick muttered to himself, getting into the truck and firing it up.

You lay nestled on the edge of the bed that you shared with Amy and Kali. A blank gaze fixed to the ceiling while your mind endlessly ran.

"Did Mom and Dad get my message? Are Robin and Chrissy really ok? Are they mad at me?  Is Shelob ok?" were just a few of the pervading thoughts.

"Did the boys go back home? or, did they follow?" It was endless.

You watched the popcorn ceiling willing sleep to take you, though it didn't want to.

You sighed, giving up you carefully sat up in the bed, and in doing so. The lamp that Mick had on to read by went out.

The room became dark.

"Mick? are you off to bed?" you asked quietly, but received no answer.

"Mick? you questioned.

However, as you looked at the small table in the corner of the room you found no one sitting there. 

"M-mick?" you stammered.

The air became cold and thick, you could feel goosebumps creeping up your arms and legs. A familiar dripping down your spine.

"N-no....I'm awake....this isn't happening again." you whispered, turning to shake Amy awake your hands landed on the sheets of the empty bed.

"What!" you gasped. 

Kali and Amy had vanished as well.

The familiar ghostly particles trickled down from the sky like snow and you looked around to find yourself alone in the bed, alone in the room.

You drew the covers to your chest and crawled to the center of the bed, like a child trying to keep the monsters away.

Heart racing as you saw the thick vines slither across the floor, snaking slowly, taunting your fear. 

"I welcomed you home, and you fled. I offer you a kingdom, you silly simple thing."

Spoke a child's voice.

At the foot of the bed stood a familiar face, though as always you could never fully recall where you'd seen the odd child before. 

He looked clean through you with cold blue eyes.

"Excuse me?" you questioned.

A deep bellowing rumble echoed from outside of the motel room windows. In the cover of the night, a large shadow lingered outside.

"It looks like the thing that was coming for the building beyond the gate." you thought.

"It is, you shouldn't be afraid." The boy said in his high monotone voice.

Your eyes turned to him.

"You could create something to rival it, let us teach you." He said.

"And if I don't want to learn?" you challenged.

The air was starting to make it hard to breathe it felt something like actually being there.

Looking down at your arms an uncanny pain crept up them gradually, a vibrant red membrane took the form of a rash, glowing and pulsing up your arms in the rhythm of your heartbeat.

"No, I don't want it, stop!" you cried out crawling backward, your back pressed to the headboard.

"It's not about what you want." said the boy.

"Rather, what you are made for., His voice changed into some distorted thing, "You will become your truest self," it said. 

The world flicked with a flash of red as a vibrant storm brewed outside, your head snapped to the windows as creatures outside screeched and rammed into them.

The glass groaned and cracked under the pressure.

"If you will not obey through a gentle hand I will call you home by force."

The child vanished, and the voice became harsh and deep.

Something heavy landed with a muted thud on the matress, near your feet as if it had fallen from the sky.

Your hands clasped over your mouth to muffle a scream. Your trembling eyes frantically scanned over the gnarled body before you.

Blood came from his mouth while his lips turned purple and his skin faded into a chilling blue.

You shut your eyes tight, "It's not there....it's not him... it's a trick." you whimpered.

Painful groans and small shallow breaths filled your ears, and though you tried to cover them, the sound still cut through like a knife.

"If you listen...."

The voice said gingerly.

The groans turned to screaming that clamped like a beartrap around your lungs. Tears rolled down your cheeks while you squeezed your palms to your ears.

"I will let you keep him,"

Said the voice.

Finally, your eyes shot open, watching the vision of Eddie at your feet. The screaming was gone, and now with the light gone from his eyes and the color from his skin, he lay silent and motionless.

Afraid to move you watched the body blow away like ash. The glass started to break on the window, and soon noisy winged beasts rushed in. 

With a shrill cry, You made to get away, falling off of the bed in your panic.

The vines took hold of you swiftly, curling around your arms and the trunk of your body.

"Stop!" You cried out, struggling against the binds.

Your wide eyes looked down at yourself in horror, just as your arms had done within the Gate, your legs doubled in number.

While continuing to struggle, so too did yourarms.

"You will learn, there is no running - or going back."

Said the voice.

"____!" Angel called,  knelt over you as you siezed on the floor.

One hand held the top of your head and the other tried to keep you still by your stomach.

"Hey!" Angel shouted to you.

"Shit..." Amy whispered hopping out of the bed and dropping to the floor. 

"Wh-whats happening?" She asked, her hands carefully resting on your arm. 

Doris walked over with cautious steps, she watched the lights flicker within the room, "He's here." She said.

Angel glared, "and he's got her..." He growled.

"Who has?" asked Axel as He, Funshine, and Mick watched over them from a distance, afraid to get any closer.

"One." Kali whispered.

"Her eyes are wide open," Funshine muttered.

Kali looked around the room, "maybe it's an illusion?" She asked.

"No, it's not out here, it's in her head," Doris said.

Your eyes began to bleed, red rivers slipping out of the corners of your eyes and down the side of your face.

Angel's heart raced, "He won't kill her, she's to serve him a purpose....so what's he doing?" He thought.

"Come on Fairy, it's not real. I promise it's not." Angel called to you while he and Amy struggled to keep you still.

Amy's eyes were large as her teeth dug into her lip, "who the hell is One?" she asked quietly, "what the hell is he?" 

Angel glared and both Doris and Kali fell silent.

"What do we do?" Amy asked turning to look to Doris.

"If we can calm her down, we might be able to get her to sleep, it can shut her mind down to him for a while," Doris said thinking quickly.

"I've never heard of that," Angel said.

"Well....that's because it's just a theory. It's worth a try, but what would calm her?" Doris asked looking around.

Everyone, however, seemed at a loss.  Amy looked to Angel who held an ever-growing frown on his face.

"Fuck." Angel exhaled softly, shutting his eyes.

"Doris we need to try another kind of tether." He said.

"Uh yeah s-sure what'd you have in mind?" She asked him, quickly stepping over your convulsing body to sit on the floor near him.

"I need you to tap into Eddie's head, I'll tether him to ____. It's the only thing I can think of." Angel said.

"But...she wouldn't want him involved," said Amy.

"Look at her, does it matter what she'd want right now?" Angel snapped, his eyes thinning into a sharp glare.

"Uh...guys," Funshine voiced tentatively, "what's happening with her skin?" He asked.

All eyes fell back on you, a faint red glow lingered beneath your skin, something like seeing the sun through one's eyelids. The shadow of your veins left a spidery pattern against the red. 

"He's trying to force a transformation," Angel said quietly.

"And that's...bad?" Axel asked.

Angel looked to him flatly, "Put it this way, when I do it - I hunt, I trap and I kill,  you'll all be prey." he said.

"Really bad then," Axel muttered going to his bag.

Rummaging through its contents he pulled out a small black pistol and loaded it.

"Doris?" Angel asked,

"On it just...give me a second. It's hard to focus." Doris murmured, closing her eyes. Angel doing the same.

"What are you doing put that away!" Kali shouted at Axel who had his aim trained on you.

"Look if she turns into some hungry thing, you'll thank me." He said.

"Eddie!"

Eddie jumped, falling over in the bed of the truck, "shiii-" He hissed wide-eyed as he looked around.

"Who?" Eddie asked.

"Doris, idiot we don't have time for you to be confused. We need you."

Doris said in his mind.

"I'm sorry did you just call me an idiot and then say you need me? Why the hell should I help?" Eddie said.

Gail watched as Eddie apparently talked to himself.

"Please tell me someone is doing some freaky mind thing or something." She muttered. 

"It's Dodo," Eddie explained quickly.

"Tell me where ____ is or get out of my head," Eddie demanded.

"Oh, you know, seizing on the floor, about to transform into... well we're not sure what. Put it this way, Pete is nervous and he's never nervous."

Doris said quickly.

"Hold on what happened?!" Eddie called out.

"Hell if we know, look. I just need you to say something to her - Angel's going to tether our connection to ____. Think fast, he doesn't have a lot of strength to expend."

Doris spoke so fast that Eddie wasn't sure he'd heard everything right.

Suddenly Eddie's mind felt crowded,

"Speak Munson."

Angel's voice said.

"And say what? - wait..." Eddie started to panic, his word faded to black, the world around him gone in an instant.

"What just happened?" He asked.

"You're in her head with me." Angel replied.

Eddie jumped, and looking to the side he could see Angel come into view, side by side they stood in a world of endless black. Clear darkness.

In the distance, Eddie could see you on the ground. Amy and Doris hold you down as your body threw a fit. 

Eddie followed Angel to them, kneeling carefully next to you.

"What...do I do?" Eddie asked calmly though he looked lost.

"If we can calm her down, we can get her to sleep as she will be exhausted that should, well, might stop this,"

Doris explained.

Her lips didn't move in the vision Eddie was viewing, although her voice still echoed all around them.

"How do I do that? Can she even hear me?" Eddie asked as he took your hand in his.

He'd expected his hand to go right through, holding tight when he felt both your hands were solid.

"She can," Angel said. 

Eddie watched your face, the drying stream of red curving down your eyeline and rolling over your cheekbones and jaw.

He felt the unsettled tremor down his spine as he drew in a deep breath to ground himself.

"Hey..." Eddie started lightly, squeezing your hand in both of his.

His voice coated over in warmth, "I'm here, I know you thought you'd gotten rid of me." Eddie said trying to force a small smile, "Looks like it didn't really work, did it?" He asked.

Eddie gave his drying lips a lick, unsure of what to say, or what would help. 

"I, ah, I found the change. You know, I told you I didn't want you to pay me back. Remember?" He said to you.

"You're always trying to give me nothing short of a heart attack." Eddie said.

He looked at you and leaned forward, "Can you hear me?" He whispered.

Lost in the waking nightmare, you struggled against the vines, flailing every limb you had.

"Can you hear me?"

Eddie's voice asked muffled and far away.

"Is this the boy or is this my mind doing this?" you thought past the pain that grew as the rash did.

"I can," you answered voice strained, "I can hear you," you repeated.

Eddie smiled faintly surrounded by the dark, "You know what you did kind of sucked," he said playfully.

"I'm sorry,"

Your voice called to him.

"I understand, but I'm about to prove to you - I can help," Eddie stated in determination.

"First....stop struggling." He said calmly.

Eddie rested a hand on your shoulder. 

"But...the vines..." You called.

"There are no vines." Eddie replied.

He spoke in an even lull, "Stop fighting, I wouldn't tell you to stop if you really needed to be." He reasoned.

"H-how do I know you're actually Eddie?" you asked. 

Eddie stayed quiet for a moment and thought, "I can't prove that to you without my guitar." He said simply.

"I could flood you with every feeling built up inside - and hopefully, they would be ones you remember." He added.

"But I'm here, in the dark with you. I can't  see enough to play even if I had a guitar with me." Eddie said.

You looked at the ceiling above as the white spores fell around you.

"I'll choose to believe." you whispered closing your eyes.

You tried to relax your body and stopped flailing.

Angel sighed in relief as the seizing stopped.

In the motel room, Amy searched your body with her eyes. "It's working," she said with a smile.

"They still need to snap her out of it and get rid of that creepy glow," Axel muttered gun still aimed.

"Good, now...you must be tired right? It's just been nonstop." Eddie said to you. 

"A little, but, there are monsters here. They're in the room, watching." you said.

Turning your head to the strange winged beast that opened its round mouth to show splinter-like teeth.

"I know it's not really here...But things hurt, so - part of it has to be real." you said.

"We won't let them hurt you," Eddie said firmly as he shook his head.

"We?" you asked.

Eddie looked at Angel, "Hey Fairy....you hear me now?" asked Angel. He didn't get an answer.

"Uh..." Eddie tore his eyes away from Angel as he grimaced.

"Angel is here and Doris....I can see Amy. " Eddie said, "I'm sure there are others, I can't see much." 

Eddie refocused himself, "Close your eyes, if you want out you need to sleep." 

"Yeah? Then....I've got an idea. Can you just, just keep talking?" you asked.

Eddie nodded, "Sure, I won't stop," He said before clearing his throat.

"Uhhhh, so....back when I was in junior high my dad thought it would be cheaper to just buzz my hair down." Eddie started to ramble.

You closed your eyes and exhaled, "It's the very same as going to see Pastor Alvin, or the Fords. Its just a waking dream, a nightmare..." you told yourself.

Laying still, listening for Eddie's voice you zeroed in on the sound of it. The deep gentle flow of his words.

"He was watching the game while trying to shave down my head and his team really messed up a play. He got so mad his hand veered off and left a big bald spot right in the center in the back of my head." Eddie went on.

He laughed, "I wore baseball caps for weeks, My uncle Wayne would buy me all sorts of them. Not that I ever actually liked them that much. They never really covered the spot well unless I wore them backward." Eddie said.

"Which really ruined the look I was working on." He laughed.

You cracked a small smile, "...so go to sleep." you sighed.

Eddie watched as your breathing began to even out.

"Pst...you still awake?" He asked you. 

"Yes," you answered quietly.

Eddie held tight to your hand. "

About your Corroded Coffin shirt, when summer's over, the boys and I were thinking about starting an afterschool club. Jeff and I thought maybe you wouldn't mind helping with the Club shirts. Scott can help you with the mascot." Eddie said.

"And um...what's your favorite color? It's important for...reasons..." Eddie stammered.

He didn't get a response, "____?" He asked.

Nothing. 

Angel checked over you quietly and soon a faint smile came to his face.

"Well look at that, you aren't completely useless," Angel said to Eddie.

"She's sleeping?" Eddie asked.

Angel gave a nod of his head and got to his feet.

Angel's words came out colder than he'd imagined, "You can go now."

With one last glance at you , Eddie got to his feet, "wait!" he called to Angel.

"No, you tell me where you guys are. What if this happens again?" Eddie reasoned. 

Taking a step forward he glared, "You're power, sorry, powers are fading. That's why she couldn't hear you. You couldn't talk to her and keep the tether up at the same time, right?" Eddie questioned.

Angel glared at his feet, keeping his back turned to Eddie in the darkness.

Taking a few more steps forward, the foot falls echoing in the void.

Eddie sighed, eyes pleading, "I can help, you've  seen it." He said quietly.

"Tell me where you guys are." Eddie said again.

Angel glanced over his shoulder, the pitiable expression on Eddie's face caused Angel to groan in frustration at himself as he scowled.

He could never stand up well to that face, "East Side." Angel muttered.

Eddie's eyes shimmered happily, "East Side where?" He asked him.

"Chicago Illinois." Angel sighed.

Eddie smiled a small grin, "Thank you, and please don't tell her..." Eddie said, "She'll only tell the others and hit the road again." he added.

Angel rolled his eyes, "And I suppose you'll want me stall too." He said in annoyance.

"I mean.....yeah, I thought that was implied," said Eddie.

"I'm done." Angel muttered as he cut the tether.

The real world dropped around Eddie so suddenly that it made him dizzy.

"What just happened?" Gail asked him loudly, leaning towards him with wide eyes.

"I was in ____'s head...I think, or they all were in mine? I, I don't know." Eddie said with a shake of his head.

"And? is she ok?" Gail asked.

"She is now, and I know where they are," Eddie said, turning around he knocked on the glass of Rick's truck and opened the small square window in the center.

"Rick! They're in East Side Chicago." Eddie said.

Rick glanced at the gas meter, "We've got enough for that, sure." He said.

"Now will you two come in here? I can't find a good station and the beeping of this tracker is driving me crazy." Rick complained.

"Sure, Rick, pull over." Gail chuckled.

"You can lower that thing now." said Amy, she had a fierce glare trained on Axel.

"Calm down, it was for everyone's safety." He sighed, taking the ammo out and heading back for his bag.

Amy exhaled and looked to you now sleeping peacefully.

"You keep drama like a stray does fleas." she said to you.

Angel exhaled shakily and without a word lay down beside you. He curled on his side and watched your face.

Doris frowned, "How you holding up, Pete?" She asked.

Angel kept his eyes fixed on your sleeping form, "I'm holding." he muttered softly, reaching out to wipe the crusted blood from your face.

"Mick, pass me that water bottle," Doris called reaching out.

Of course, he would say it was ok, Pete was prideful like that, but the already pale boy had drained of even more color.

Mick passed the water bottle to Doris.

"Thanks" Doris said before turning to Angel with a stern face.

"You need to drink this," she ordered.

Angel chuckled, "what are you, my mother?" He asked.

"No, Worse, I'm Doris. Now take it," Doris demanded, rolling the bottle across the floor to him.

Angel sat up with a bit of a struggle to push his tired body up and reached for the bottle with his fingers. Quietly he drank the water, wiped his mouth clear, and then lay back down.

"Everyone should try and get some sleep, we still have a few miles to go." Kali advised.

"And we just leave her on the floor?" Funshine asked.

"It's probably best not to wake her," Doris answered.

Funshine shrugged and made his way toward the old armchair in the room. Axel made himself at home on the floor, and Mick went to the second bed.

Amy took to the first bed and lay down, Doris and Kali getting into bed with Mick to give the girl her space.

Axel laid out a solitaire round on the small table as he prepared to take the first watch for the night.

Angel's eyes struggled to stay open as he focused on you and eventually gave up on trying to keep them open.

Eddie's eyes focused on the road ahead of him, He'd taken Rick's place at the wheel as the man was exhausted having run so many days on very little sleep.

The beeping of the tracker seemed distant in his ears as he honed in on the white lines in the asphalt, hand tapping with the music on the radio.

"So what's the plan once we get there?" Gail asked from the passenger seat.

Eddie shrugged, "Try my damnedest to get them to let me stay." He said glancing towards her.

"Angel's a pushover, no matter how much he'd like to deny it." Eddie snickered.

Gail had to laugh too, he wasn't wrong.

"You're his soft spot, it's true." she hummed.

"Sometimes, anyway," Eddie said.

"So then what? We stay with them until they finish what they set out to do? We don't know how long that'll take." Gail said.

"No." Eddie said with a long sigh, "We don't, but I'm drawn to this fucking girl and I can't fully explain why." Eddie looked to Gail.

"Like a mosquito to a bug zapper." Eddie chuckled.

"Yeah it'll probably kill me, but it's so damned bright..." He sighed looking out at the road.

Gail turned to watch the road as well, "It's what the Special K was to me back when." Gail muttered, she turned to Eddie and gave him a teasing smirk, "She's your drug, mister dealer." she said.

Eddie laughed lightly, "Ugh, never using that one. I'm not going down as being that cheesy." He said.

Gail tilted her head, "Girls like that love cheese. She's probably never had a date in her life, and dreams of all the sparkles and fluff of a boyfriend." she said.

"And then there's me, rusted and full of metal studs." Eddie said.

Gail smirked, "Oh no, you're full of fluff, you're just a teddy bear and you know it." She shot.

"You'll need to be tough though if they want to stop these people. You'll need to be nails." Gail murmured.

"It's not just because the fight we just faced. I feel I know these people, or people like these people." Gail spoke quietly.

Eddie watched her for a moment in silence.

"Gail," he called.

She looked up at him waiting as he glanced back her way.

"Thank you for this." He said.

A shakey smile formed on her face at the sincerity in his voice.

Gail gave a deep nod, "Of course, I ruined what we had. But I'll always be your friend." she said.

"I won't  let you face that level of regret while I'm still here." Gail promised, "Call it my shot at redemption." she added.

Eddie looked back at the road and shook his head.

Gail smiled, "See, teddy bear." she hummed in amusement seeing his eyes glisten with a thin layer of water.

"I'm not crying." he muttered.

"Might as well be." she snickered.

"Shut up." Eddie grumbled sulking.

"Stop pouting," Gail sang, "I'm done teasing I promise," she said.

"So was she happy to hear from you?" Gail asked, she could see Eddie was getting sleepy, but she also knew there was no way he'd pull over.

Eddie gave a faint smile, "I think so, or at least she didn't seem annoyed. But she was scared so...she probably didn't have time to think about what was going on much." Eddie said.

"God, you just light up when you talk about her," Gail whispered squinting. "I'm almost jealous," she admitted.

Eddie looked at her nervously, "Of  you, not her." Gail said looking out onto the road. "To feel that would be amazing." she said.

Eddie did a double take, "Wait...you didn't...feel that with me?" He asked voice quiet.

Gail shrugged, "I guess at first, yeah." she said.

"And with Angel?" he asked.

Gail fell silent, "Not really. It was never about feelings with Angel. I thought I loved him because  he gave me the thing that made me feel good." Gail confessed.

"But really, I just clung to him for the special K, you wouldn't give me any, he would." She released a long loathing sigh.

"It was just that simple. It was never anything against you." Gail said.

Eddie gave a nod, "Somehow, that makes it a little better." he said.

Gail reached forward and turned up the music. "At this rate we'll both fall asleep," she said.

Eddie laughed and his eyes creased as they smiled out unto the road.

"Did I tell you I met ____ in person because of a crash?" he asked.

"That's....what?" Gail asked making a face, "That's awful!" she shouted.

"I didn't cause it!" Eddie said quickly, "Let me tell the story before you yell at me please!" 

"Talk fast because I can see you, fortunately unfortunately wrecking that girl's car and trying like hell to flirt anyway," Gail said.

Eddie fell into a peal of silent laughter, leaning against the steering wheel.

Gail turned to him wide-eyed, "That's what happened isn't it?" she asked flatly.

"No," Eddie said catching a breath.

"I helped her out, she was stumbling through the trees after the crash and I found her," he explained.

Pinching his thumb and index fingers close to each other he gave a silly smile, "I was flirting a little bit, when I tried to help her get back home." He admitted.

"But I'm kinda bad at that and she didn't notice. she thinks I play too much," said Eddie.

"You absolutely do." Gail agreed.

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[godisbestfriend4evaeva]

Gary White dreamweaver Miss A Only you Twice I can’t stop me, cheer up, dance the night away, scientist, likey Mareux The Perfect Girl N-dubz wouldn’t you Tegan & Sara bodywork Justin Beiber peaches Sting englishman in new york, shape of my heart System of a down (old school hollywood, radio, lonely day, aerials)  Utada Hikaru (Tippy toes Apple & cinnamon Poppin) Wait and see First love About you Me muero Can you keep a secret Travelling Automatic I II Letters Be my last Animato On and on Sakura drops Deep river (Hotel lobby) One last kiss Simple and clean Workout Nichiyou no asa Hope Parlow Sick inside Inu yasha Shinjitsu no uta Crystal Kay Kirakuni Dumb ditty dumb Namie Amuro Crystal Castles Kept Grimes California Halifax Genesis Angel Haze Majid Jordan Something about you Shades of blue Her [place like this] Oritse Femi Omolope Styl-plus Olufunmi Dbanj Mr endowed

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Mo gbono feli feli Oliver twist Wizkid Holla at your boy Don’t dull Tease me Die Aantword [Banana brain] Rich bitch Enter the ninja Future baby Babaji? [Baby’s on fire Dis is why I’m hot Fok julle naaiers Alien Cookie thumper] In This Moment Adrenalize Oh Lord In the air tonight New Year’s Day Joker Angel eyes Gangsta Insane Clown Posse Chop chop slide Mr C the Slide Man Cha-cha slide Kali Uchis telepatia Tei Shi Bassically See me FKA Twigs Wet wipez Tw-ache Tw-ache (2 of 4) [X inc. Glass & patron Video girl Weak spot Water me Papi pacify Good to love Hours] Clean Bandit Mozart’s house [telephone banking] A + E Dust clears [Extraordinary Come over] Symphony Zara Larsson Lush life Aint my fault Wow Øfdream - Red Voids EMIKA Flashbacks (Gnothi Seauton remix) VSN7 x ∆XIUS LIИK Nimb, AoA good luck, like a cat; Girls' Generation=SNSD hoot, run devil run, genie, twinkle

Alan Walker Sing Me To Sleep (dǝǝls remix) SIDEWALKS AND SKELETONS ENTITY Kyddiekafka Obsessions Memoryrave WAVES Monomorte Erutufon Nine Inch Nails A Warm Place Professor Green Game over Remedy Jungle Good to me Maverick Sabre I need Tinie Tempah Pass out Written in the stars Labrinth Earthquake Beneath your beautiful Jessi J Do it like a dude Who’s laughing now Pricetag Birthday Massacre Looking glass Goodnight (blue) Happy birthday He says Red dress Beyond I think we’re alone now Precious hearts Video kid Stars and satellites Sleepwalking One promise RONE Bye bye McAdam Lemniscata Show me love Chivurn Faith Mysterial Going under Blackbriars Eternity Indila Danse derniere Elyose redemption Child of Aphrodite Aegean sea Lily Allen (It's not fair Smile The fear) Stromae cheese papoutai je cours bienvenue chez moi tous les memes carmen ave cesarea ta fete dodo rail de musique alors'un danse formidable Pixie Lott all about tonight Devlin+Professor Green+Example game over Eiselfunk pong Red Queen Insidious Dita V Redrum Lana Del Rey (Doin' time Venice bitch Chemtrails over the country club Kill kill Blue jeans Video game High by the beach Burning desire West coast Carmen National anthem Dark paradise I want you boy put me in a movie) Black beauty (perfect blue) Mr Hudson White lies Forever young Supernova Evanescence Lithium Bring me to life Do what you want Sweet sacrifice Everybody's fool P!NK God is a DJ Yoko kanno Rise origa Inner universe Santigold who be loving me Shiv-R Devil's night Alpha omega The third realm Kiss of the scorpion Forever Diabolic crush Behold the dreamers Grimes California Oblivion Genesis World princess Violence 4AEM We appreciate power Butterfly Kill vs maim Violence Scream Belly of the beat IDORU Delete forever Girls aloud Sound of the underground Love machine I think we’re alone now Hana So & so Creatura Chimera Men without hats safety dance Pussycat dolls Beep Buttons When I

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grow up Wait a minute Spice girls Viva forever Be my lover Sugababes Stronger Too lost in you Round round Tokio hotel Monsoon (2020 version) Hilary Duff With love Stranger Coming clean Exid DDD Elliphant Spoon me One more Only getting younger Iggy Azalea Black widow Work Team Bounce DVRST Close eyes Bring me the horizon Can you feel my heart Alexandra Stan Mr saxobeat Ecoute moi Dua lipa New rules We're good Levitating Janelle Monae Tightrope Q.U.E.E.N. Yoga Jidenna Little bit more Lenny Kravitz Fly away M-Flo Come again Toopoor Crazy girls Dorian Electra f the world Destiny's child lose my breath soldier survivor say my name nasty girl

Avril Lavigne Perfume Doja Cat Rico Nasty(Tia Tamera) Kerli Rosalia(Bizconchito) CL(lifted) Shania Twain Sza Lil Mix Lalisa Pixie Lott Paloma Faith Asa Kelly Rowland Rita Ora Massari(Real love Be easy) Ayumi Hamasaki {Musici, cii} Kelis(Acapella Bounce Trick me) BoA Bonnie Pink(a perfect sky) Azealia Banks [212; Anna Wintour; Atlantis; count contessa; no problems; heavy metal & reflective; running] Tokyo Cirls Style Kero Kero Bonito Diana Ross(I love to love you) SNSD(Bring the boys out Papparazzi Gee) Sade Jordan Sparks Sevyn streeter(it won’t stop) May7ven (Hands up Ten ten) loan Paul (She doesn’t mind Got 2 love ya) Tiwa Savage love me X3 kele kele love Airis without you Nicki Minaj Zendaya replay Alexis Jordan Paolo Nutini The Noisettes Ludovico Technique Beyonce Rihanna Prima J (rockstar corazon) A touch of class (around the world {la la la}) Bassnectar (the future) Skillet (comatose monster not gonna die tonight) 2NE1 3 days grace Skrillex Chaos Chaos (Do You Feel It?) Benny benassi (cinema), Kehlani (LMK, contact, a message, rewind), KAYTRANADA (10%) Crystal Waters (Gypsy Woman (She's Homeless)) FLO (Summertime), Florida Georgia Line (Cruise, meant to be) KILO KISH (AMERICAN GURL, ELEGANCE, NAVY, Locket, ) KAROL G (Provenza)

Nagada sang dhol, Ke$ha we R who we R, Britney Spears break the ice, Kate Nash foundations, Wretch 32 don’t go, Paolo Nutini last request, The Kooks (she moves in her own way, Naive), Chase & Status end credits, ± △Xi∪s ¬iИк - M.I.A. DBT (Remix) ±, ± Damn Whøre - Insomnia ±, ± SUICIDEWΛVЕ - IN Your ΣYΣS ±, PVTY KERRY Ohé, Mike Posner - Cooler Than Me, Shawn Desman (electric, night like this), alt-J (∆) Breezeblocks, ± BLVCK CEILING - Grins ±, Sohodolls Bang bang bang bang, 4MINUTE hot issue, TWICE (CHEER UP, likey, knock knock, signal, Dance The Night Away), Demi Lovato, Joe Jonas this is me, Troy - Bet On It (From "High School Musical 2"), Gwen Stefani rich girl, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QbwdJl8TGeY&list=RDCC5ca6Hsb2Q&index=10, GIGI D'AGOSTINO - L'AMOUR TOUJOURS, Turtles - Happy Together, Bobby McFerrin - Don't Worry Be Happy, The Monkees - I'm a Believer (2006 Remaster), Icon For Hire - Make A Move,

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Kalafina (Magia, Lacrimosa, Sprinter), Stereopony - Hitohira No Hanabira, LiSA - Crossing Field, YOASOBI「アイドル」 Official Music Video, BABYMETAL - メギツネ - MEGITSUNE, Tove-lo (talking body {clean version}, stay high), Flume - Never Be Like You feat. Kai, Disclosure - Magnets ft. Lorde, Amaarae, Kali Uchis - SAD GIRLZ LUV MONEY (Remix) ft. Moliy, Icon For Hire - Get Well, Meg Myers - Desire {clean version}, Five Nights at Freddy's 2 Song - The Living Tombstone (FNAF2) , Coco Jones (Caliber, peppermint)

+kids DisneyXD Imbrandonfarris+comedy +gaming Caylus+c +beauty Azzyland+c Rclbeauty101 +Ethnic KieKie TV

Aloma TV

Mark Angel TV

SCENEONE TV

URBAN MOVIES

[shepard-ram]

An Outside Perspective [Xisuma & Dsmp!Reader]

(P!Fluff? Hurt/comfort? Not really sure lol Request: Could I request a reader insert were the reader is causally talking about the wars and bloodshed they have seen on the dream smp to Grian or Xisuma?)

(After the Grian headcanons I'm so happy to be getting more hermitcraft requests! Tw. Talk of past war, violence, death etc. Also thank you dodo anon for some ideas.)

----------

Somehow you had managed to slip away from the Dream smp and found yourself in a much more peaceful server, Hermitcraft. Most of them knew vaguely of the wars that constantly held your home, but no one seemed to fully grasp what you had became so accustomed to. Not that you were trying to hide anything, it just never came up. Until you found yourself talking to a masked admin much kinder than your own.

You were helping Xisuma as he worked on a new tower in his base. You had been staying in the server for awhile now, and had hung around X since the start. At first it was because you thought getting on an admins good side would be a good strategic move, but now it was because you genuinely enjoyed his company.

At first it was unnerving how... not violent the hermits were. Even though you had grown used to how kind every one was, you still couldn't deny how intimidating some of the hermits looked. Including Xisuma's heavy armor and helmet that he never seemed to take off. You've been curious about it since the start, so you finally decided to ask.

"Hey X, can I ask you something?" Watching as he perked up at his name.

"Uh... sure!"

"Why do you never take off that helmet? I get if it's personal- I'm just curious."

"Oh- well at first it was a medical thing. Now I just wear it for comfort, especially since I have some scars I'd rather keep hidden." He added the last part in a slightly weaker voice.

"Oh I get that! I've got quite a few myself!" You rolled up your sleeve to show off the burn like scar that marred the skin running all up your left arm, ending just above your wrist. The mark was much darker than a normal burn would be, it was from a wither effect.

Even through his purple visor you could see Xisuma's eyes grow wide with what you assumed was concern.

"How in the world did you get that?" His tone confirmed that you were right about his expression.

"It's a long story, but back in the Dream smp I lived in this country called L'Manberg. After an election the first president and vice president were forced to leave. Eventually they and a few other of their allies tried to take it back- or destroy it I'm not entirely sure-" you told the war story in such a causal way it felt like you were reciting the plot of a show you had watched the other day. Not even paying attention as X's face worsened.

"Anyways, during that take over one of the old presidents allies spawned two withers as a show of strength. I got caught up in the blast zone, and... here we are!" You jestered to the blackened scar in pride.

"Really? How badly messed up were you?" The wither scar looked like the entire left side of your body was almost blown off, yet you seemed as bright and strong as anyone else.

"Oh I was knocked off my feet, but I just got up and ran! It takes a lot more than one missed blast to keep me down. After the day was out though I could barely move my arm, I still try to keep too much strain off it." You added casually rolling your sleeve back down.

"Was that the only battle you've been through?" He asked with what could only be described as worried hope.

"Oh not by a long shot!" If you had been looking you would have gotten a laugh at his face. "There was L'Manbergs war of Independence, died quite a few times there, Pogtopia vs. Manberg, that's where I got that scar- and Doomsday, god I thought two withers was excessive ha! If I could've known."

"What! You went through all that! You're only like, twenty, why would someone that young be put through all that" You realized just how horrified he was. Switching to a more somber tone.

"Oh I am not that young compared to some of the others." Watching as his face dropped you continued. "The vice president? That got exiled, Tommy. He's sixteen." You thought you might have broke the admin at that point. "Seemed Dream always had it out for the poor kid. I tried to help him as much as I could, but there's not much you can do against a tyrant god."

"I- I just-" you could see him trying to process everything you'd just spilled. He settled on resting his hand on your shoulder, "you know you can stay here as long as you want. Maybe even bring some of your friends for a little visit?" You weren't entirely sure if that was a question or a statement, but you answered with a sincere nod.

"Thank you."

"Of course, don't think about it." You both turned back to the half finished tower. Xisuma had some things to discuss with the others later, but that could wait for now.

[eirian-houpe]

Modern Wonders - Chapter 2

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV), Alice (TV 2009)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold

Characters: Belle (Once Upon a Time), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Jiminy Cricket | Archie Hopper, Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Prince Charming | David Nolan, Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Grumpy | Leroy, Hatter (Alice TV 2009), Dodo (Alice TV 2009), Queen of Hearts (Alice TV 2009), Carpenter (Alice TV 2009), Mad March (Alice TV 2009), The White Rabbit | Agent White (Alice TV 2009), Doormouse (Alice TV 2009), Widow Lucas | Granny, Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - In Storybrooke | Cursed (Once Upon a Time), Wonderland, Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Pining, UST, Violence, Psychological Torture, Torture, Exploitation, Revenge, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Reconciliation

Summary: Revenge, they say, is a dish best served cold, and when Regina casts Rumple's Dark Curse, just a few words here and there creates Storybrooke in a very different place, with a very different atmosphere, and very different issues to deal with. Alliances and enmity permeate the lives of the citizens of Storybrooke, (and beyond), as they tiptoe around the various dangers they face every day. Who is awake? How can they break the curse within a curse? And what of the power struggles rife both within, and outside of Storybrooke itself.

Read previous chapters on AO3

Chapter 2 - Storybrooke

The gold handled cane did him little good in the surroundings outside, the broken terrain, but within the confines of the shanty town that was Storybrooke Gold’s stride was long, and confident, more like a lord measuring out his demesne than a poor crippled pawn broker living on the deals and heartbreak of others. He smiled wickedly to himself to think of the impression he gave to others, and the thrall he kept them under in spite of appearances.

Oh, if only they knew.

Storybrooke was not as ‘dead’ as they thought - or rather, as Regina thought - because Storybrooke was a tiny little bubble within the larger cesspit that was Wonderland, and he had the advantage. He had been here before… with Jefferson - and he frowned.

Since their arrival he couldn’t remember having seen Jefferson, not even lurking in the mansion that Regina had meant as his prison… his torment, to be shut away from his Grace. He made a mental note to pay the man a visit, determined to unlock the conundrum. Of course no one else cared. No one else was awake… and he wasn’t meant to be, he was sure of it - another conundrum for him to unravel.

“Um… Mi— Mister Gold, I ah… that is…”

Gold halted on the paved sidewalk, and turned his head to watch as Archie Hopper, umbrella in hand - in preparation for what rain, Gold wondered - cross the deserted street toward him.

“Doctor Hopper,” he greeted the man with false cheer. “A pleasure, but out with it, man, I haven’t got all day.”

“Oh, I… um…” Hopper pushed his glasses up along his nose, back into place, “I wondered if you’d had a chance to consider my… ah… proposition?”

“Ah, yes,” Gold purred.  “Walk with me, won’t you?”

Gold turned without waiting for the good doctor’s agreement or otherwise, and set a slower pace toward Granny’s diner. With the library still closed, it was the one place left open for informal, communal gatherings. Of all of Storybrooke’s other, cursed, inhabitants, the proprietor was someone for whom he had a good deal of respect. Tough as nails, no nonsense, Widow Lucas was as upstanding a pillar of the community that Storybrooke possessed.

All the rest were crumbling; as crumbling as the buildings and the streets of Storybrooke itself. Gold wondered if anyone else had noticed.

It was subtle. The odd crack in a sidewalk here, the tendril of a vine there, a wall, beginning to crumble and weeds reclaiming a spot or two in the well manicured gardens. Subtle, but unmistakable. Wonderland was reclaiming its own.

“I’ve give it a good deal of thought, as a matter of fact,” Gold told Hopper before he allowed his observations to run away with him. “And while, obviously, as an upstanding member of our town council, I can’t condone what you’re suggesting…” he left a long pause as they reached the diner’s doorstep, whereupon, lowering his voice to a dangerous growl, he blocked Doctor Hoppers path with his arm, stretched across the doorway, and said, “I think it might be just what some people in this town need.”

**

Whale growled softly and turned away from the window. It wasn’t the paint, peeling, that was the cause of his frustration, but the fact that he couldn’t reconcile the feeling that was flowing through him, and the sky outside of the hospital. It was almost cloudless.

He was, he tried to tell Sheriff Humbert when the man called in to find out about his latest patient who had been found wandering - raving by all accounts - about some kind of ‘door,’ a doctor and not an investigator. The sheriff however, refused to help him get to the truth about his patient’s ramblings.

“This isn’t Narnia,” he said in a somewhat poor display of bedside manner, “there are no doors to other, magical kingdoms. No witches, no wizards, no—”

“Yeah?” the citizen interrupted. “How do you explain this then?” Whereupon he pulled back the sleeve of his jacket to reveal the strange, abstract shape standing out raw and painful looking on his arm.

“A uh… tattoo?” Doctor Whale suggested in an overly patient tone. “And a somewhat fresh one from what I can tell.”

“Uh-huh,” the patient argued, “And you get em just like that,” he snapped his fingers somewhat inexpertly, “do ya?” He jerked his head toward the window. “When the sun shines on ya?”

“Sheriff Humbert, please,” Whale turned his attention to the man hovering uncomfortably in the doorway, looking as guilty as sin and extremely distracted. “You see?  You can at least tell me where you picked this man up, and if there were, indeed, a door there?”

“I’m sorry, Doctor, but… there’s nothing I can tell you,” Humbert answered. “I’d like to tell you I saw a door, but the truth is, I was far too worried about your patient here to pay too much attention. His safety was my priority.”  He took a breath and added far too hurriedly in Whale’s opinion, “Anyway, I just called round to see how he was getting along. Can’t stay though,” he said. “I’ve a council meeting, that I have to get to in,” he glanced at his watch, “ten minutes. And the mayor doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Then he left, and Whale remained, alone and without explanation standing beside the hospital window staring at the wrongly colored sky.

**

Gold sighed softly as the bell over the shop door tinkled to announce an unwanted caller. He wasn’t sure why he expected that simply displaying a ‘closed’ sign would discourage random visitors, and mused to himself that perhaps locking the door might be a more effective deterrent.

Taking his time, he picked up the cloth from the workbench and carefully began wiping his fingers clean of the gear oil which he had been using on the innards of a delicate clock, even as he made his way out of the back room, and into the shop, limping as he went.

“Madam Mayor,” he said as he set eyes on Regina standing practically tapping her foot with annoyance at having to wait. He kept his tone light, appreciative, as if to imply he respected that someone so important was going out of their way to be in his presence. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Cut the crap, Gold,” Regina snapped, by way of a return to his greeting. “What did you do!”

So she has noticed.

“I’m… sorry,” he said slowly, “I don’t follow.”

“It’s a simple question,” she growled. “What. Did. You. Do? Everything’s coming unraveled.”

“Unraveled?” he echoed, deciding that he would continue to feign ignorance for as long as he were able; see what he could find out - what she would let slip. “I’m afraid I haven’t done anything, and I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” He put the slightest hint of pique into his voice at the end of his assertion, to make it convincing, then for good measure, added, “If it’s something woven, or a knitted blanket, I’d be happy to take a look at it. It wouldn’t be the first time that—”

Regina’s hand slammed down onto the top of one of the glass cased, rattling the contents within as she snarled, “Drop it, Gold. I know you’re awake. Not that you’re supposed to be. Jefferson was the only one I—”

So, my old friend is in Wonderland too. He’s not going to be happy with that.

“Awake?” Gold interrupted, then with a confused laugh in his voice he added, “Regina, you’re not making any sense. Of course I’m awake. I’m standing here, talking to you - was just fixing a clock out back, so unless I fell asleep while I was working and this is all a dream—”

He made a mental note to take another walk around Storybrooke some time very soon, to check on Grace, and hoped with all his heart that she was safe; almost that she wasn’t here - that whatever had diverted the curse to Wonderland had spared her.

Regina growled, cutting off his words, and his train of thought. He raised an eyebrow, undecided whether to reveal himself in that moment, or to play the game a little longer. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“The borders are failing,” she said harshly. “This wretched realm is encroaching on my town. So if you had anything to do with that, Gold, so help me…”

It was the threat that broke his resolve to pretend he was not awake. No one, least of all Regina threatened Gold on his own turf, and the shop was his turf in more ways than one.

“Well, well, well…” his voice was more of a low rumble in his chest, and he took his cane in hand and walked toward, and then around Regina until he was barely behind her, and purred in her ear, “…Dearie…” Even so, confessing he was awake was one thing, revealing he had magic, that was quite something else. “Things not going quite how you planned?”

“I know you have something to do with this,” she accused.

He circled around the rest of the way to come and lean against one of the display cases, looking far more casual than he felt as he looked her up and down, before he said, “Now, what makes you think,” he pointed at her, “that even if I had the power to - what was it you said - ‘unravel’ this little town of yours, that I’d even waste my time trying.” As he spoke of himself, he jabbed his thumb against his own chest, the grandeur of the gesture far more reminiscent of his Enchanted Forest form than the upright, uptight Mister Gold of Storybrooke.

“What you should be asking, dearie,” he rumbled, “is who would have the kind of magic necessary to mess with my Dark Curse?”

[katehuntington]

Title: In Bad Waters - part twelve Word count: ±2750 words Episode summary: Still in possession of the Winchesters’ belongings, Zoë meets up with the hunters on her next case. When it turns out to be a little more complicated than anticipated, she accepts their help in order to make an important deadline. Part twelve summary: The only way to find out the truth about Laura, is to start digging even deeper. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Descriptions of domestic violence/child abuse. Drug use/addiction. Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures/resuscitation. Swearing, alcoholism. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Descriptions of torture and murder, drowning. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09​ and @deanwanddamons​​​​​​​​​. Thanks, girls! Gif credit: @demondetoxmanual​.

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E02 “In Bad Waters” Masterlist

     “Dead as a dodo,” the oldest of the Winchester brothers states over the phone, as he exits Arkansas Methodist Medical Center, Zoë by his side.      Before they drove to the hospital, the hunters dropped Sam off at the Shire residence, so that he could make sure the family wouldn’t get targeted. Laura has proven to be relentless, and they didn’t want to risk the family getting killed as well.

     “Laura attacked him while other people were around?” Sam, who is on the line with his brother, is clearly surprised.      “She didn’t. She waited until he went to the supply storage, alone,” Dean tells. “Same deal; beat up, broken neck.”      Sam cuts to the chase. “We have to figure this out fast. The only other people who may know something about Laura’s location is what’s left of the Shire family.”      “You got eyes?” Dean checks, knowing Sam is staking out the residence on Lake Front Lane.      “Yeah. So far so good.”      “Make sure he keeps them in sight at all costs. Use an excuse and get into the house if he has to,” Zoë suggests, only catching half of the conversation.

     Dean glances aside at the woman next to him. She has changed into a clean shirt, one that doesn’t have her own blood on it. Back at the Hampton Inn, she taped her right side, relieving some of the pressure from her aching ribs. After a quick touch up of her hair and make-up, one could barely tell she just got attacked by an angry spirit. Her walk is slightly stiff, but the bruising she suffered is sufficiently masked, her brown curls falling over the gash on her hairline, which she closed with butterfly stitches.

     With a groan she lowers herself in the front seat of the Impala, muttering ‘fuck’ under her breath when fractures send a sharp pain through her body.      Dean notices when he gets into the car as well, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead he puts his phone on speaker, now that the Impala provides them the safety to talk freely. “Zo says that when you lose sight of them, you better get inside. Tell them you’re insurance or somethin’.”

     “Will do. Did you guys manage to get Laura’s medical records?”      “We did. Let’s see what we have here.” The older Winchester pulls a folder from the inside of his leather coat. He opens it, about to leaf through the documents, when Zoë snatches it from his hands. “Hey!”      “Like you could make sense of what’s in here,” she scolds.

   She wets her finger and flips the page. A huff escapes her throat as she reads the file, shaking her head, disapproving. “1999, age four; skull fracture of the parietal, supposedly fell off her bike. 2001, age six; fracture of the left ulna. 2003, age eight, multiple fractures, right radius, she needed surgery for that. Same year, broken carpal bones, right wrist, this time it was the trampoline's fault. It goes on.”      “Fucking bastard…” Dean scoffs.      “And no one picked up on this?” Sam wonders.      “Perks of the dad being Chief of surgery.” Zoë holds an X-ray against the light. “Good news for us is that we should be able to determine now if it’s Laura in that grave or not. Especially her right arm, which was screwed back together.”

     “Only one way to find out. Looks like your gonna pay Linwood Cemetery another visit,” Dean says, turning the key in the ignition. The V8 engine comes to life with a roar, a song by The Kinks called ‘You Really Got Me’ playing on the local radio station.

     “You know you and Zo have to stick together, right?” Sam brings to mind.      “Say what?” Dean replies, puzzled, before he pulls away from the curb.      “He’s right.” Zoë backs up the younger Winchester’s statement, glancing at the driver next to her. “Laura kills everyone who stops her, but only if they are alone. We already know she’s after me, and now you shot her through the head, so I’m guessing you moved up her murder list.”      “Well that’s a comforting thought.” Dean breathes out, once realization sets in. “What about you, Sam?”      “I don’t think she’ll come after me. I never actually had contact with her, unlike you guys,” Sam explains.      “So basically, I’m stuck with her?” Dean nods his head at the young woman next to him, even though his brother can’t see it.      “Hey, still in the car,” Zoë snarls, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She then continues to correct herself, in her usual brazenness. “Excuse my French. I’m still in the ‘67 Chevrolet Impala.”

     Dean’s jaw clenches as he fights the urge to pull the gun from the glove compartment and shoot her. He’s getting pretty tired of her smartass comments.      “He has a point, though,” Sam intervenes. “Whatever happens, you two have to stick together, or it will be the end of you. The second one of you ends up alone…”      Sam leaves the rest of the words unsaid, because no one needs to hear them to understand. If Dean and Zoë get separated, they will die, and especially the huntress is not particularly happy about that matter.

     “Great. My lucky day,” Zoë mutters sarcastically, after which she looks away and watches the houses rush by.      “Do I have to remind you that I just saved your ass?” Dean recalls.      The huntress huffs, of course he has to bring that up. “I didn't need your--”      “Oh, come on! Don't start that bullshit with me,” the oldest Winchester counters, letting out a laugh. No way in hell she’s going to win this argument. “What were you planning to do exactly after Laura pinned you to the wall and was a second from snapping your neck, huh?”

     “Could you two stop bitching at each other for one fucking second?!”      Dean looks at the phone on the dashboard. For a moment there, he forgot Sam was still a part of this conversation. The younger Winchester clearly has had enough of their bickering and fighting, because it’s not often that the respectable sibling curses. The outburst helps, because both shut up instantly.

     “Thank you,” Sam sighs and continues on his theory. “Dean, you dig up that body, I’ll keep an eye on the Shires.”      The Impala comes to a stop before a traffic light, crossing cars not allowing Dean to run the stop sign. “What about Miss Congeniality over here?”      “She can’t dig. She broke her ribs.” Sam states, matter of factly.

     Zoë, who still had her arms crossed in front of her, now turns herself to watch the hunter’s reaction. The amusement that bubbles inside of her makes it impossible to suppress the wide smirk on her lips when she notices Dean translating the true meaning of Sam’s message. For once in her life, she is not going to disagree with Sam, because this is playing itself out beautifully.      “So, I’m gonna have to dig up a coffin while she stands there being pretty?!” he almost exclaims.      “Ah-uh.”      “I have no issues with that, whatsoever.” Zoë agrees, adding fuel to the fire.      “Of course you don’t, you--” Dean shuts himself up, biting his tongue before he says something he might regret. He’s only at an arm's length away from her, plus he’s driving his precious car. The huntress might be hurt, but she can still do some serious damage.      “Alright, Sammy. You stay put, and be careful, okay?” he presses. “Who knows what that mini poltergeist has up her sleeve.”      “I’ll be safe,” his younger brother promises. “You guys too, alright? See you in a bit.”

     The sun is about to sink behind the horizon and golden hour is upon them. The heavens are colored in a dark shade of blue, gradually turning lighter in the west, where apricot and merigold fire up the sky. It’s getting chilly, autumn bringing down the temperatures at dusk. Nocturnal animals come to life, a barn owl hooting in the distance. The cemetery’s gates closed an hour ago, offering the hunters the peace and quiet needed to stay undetected.

     This time it’s not the huntress who is shuffling dirt. In fact, she’s casually sitting on the tombstone next to Laura’s, her legs crossed like the lady that she is, watching Dean do all the hard work. While filing her nails, Zoë cannot help but admire the scenery, and it’s not the pretty sunset. The Winchester in her company is working his way into the ground, scooping dirt over his shoulder with steady amounts. He shed his jacket and his grey shirt is clinging to his clammy torso, perspiration shimmering on his exposed skin. Muscles roll beneath the fabric of the thin tee and his biceps flex with every motion, a glimpse of a tattoo peeking from under the right sleeve. The huntress might want to bite his head off most of the time, but even she has to admit; Dean’s is easy on the eyes.

     “Like what you see?” Dean grins mischievously, having noticed her appreciating looks.      Zoë isn’t at all thrown off balance by his remark, however. “Really? You objectify women all the fucking time, and you’re calling me out?”      “Touché,” he chuckles, not slowing down for a second. “Just sayin’, the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid.”      Zoë scoffs, finding his assumption entertaining. “Keep on dreaming, Casanova. I’m more likely to die before ending up between the sheets with you.”

     “Well…” Dean swings more ground out of the hole, groaning at the increasing ache in his left shoulder. His eyes are still mischievous, and so is the smirk on his lips. “Let’s get that mini poltergeist off your tail, and we’ll talk again.”      Zoë rolls her eyes. This arrogant prick doesn’t know when to stop, does he?      “Like I said; keep on dreaming. Now what the hell is taking you so long?” she judges. “It’s only six feet and the ground is already loose.”      “Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe if you hadn't put a bullet in my shoulder two days ago, I’d dig a little faster!” Dean snaps, glaring at the person who has been giving him orders all day.      “Don’t be such a baby. It didn’t even hit the joint,” Zoë scoffs, blowing the dusty residue from her fingertips. “Now would you hurry it up? I have places to be.”

     Gritting his teeth, the hunter dumps another load of soil on the grass besides the grave. I swear to God, one of these days a spirit will be the last of her worries.      “Maybe if you had paid attention when you fucking lit the kid in the first place, you could’ve left town hours ago.”      “Maybe if your brother hadn’t distracted me, I would have. But you asshats tend to ruin other people's cases,” Zoë counters, rapidly.      “Hey, we are just trying to help! Do I have to remind you who’s doing the actual dirty work here?” Dean pauses his actions. “Why don’t you get off your throne of thorns, princess. I’m nearly there.”

     Zoë cocks back her head back; did he just call her ‘princess’? Her eyes shoot flames at the intolerable guy, her mouth opening to send back a remark, when the metal shovel collides with the wooden casket. The hollow sound catches Zoë’s attention and she gets up. “Fucking finally.”

     Dean hoists himself out of the hole, making room to lift up the lid and exposing the remains. He was going to offer the huntress a hand to get into the grave, but he can’t be bothered now; she can figure out how to lower herself if she’s being such a bitch. She doesn’t ask either, and sits down on the edge, sliding down with a grunt. The older Winchester watches her descent, the light of her flashlight shimmering on his features as she turns it on and places it on the corner of the coffin.

     “How are we supposed to tell if this is Laura or not? You already burned her bones to crisp,” Dean wonders, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand.      “Because they aren’t burned to crisp. A salt and burn doesn’t actually destroy them like an oven would when cremated,” the huntress explains wisely, pulling on a pair of latex gloves from her pocket and putting them on as she crouches down.

     “So what’s the crime scene telling you, Horatio?” Dean wonders, shining his flashlight down on the skeleton.      Zoë doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she clears the burned clothing and half deteriorated skin and muscle tissue from the right arm of the girl in the coffin. She rubs her thumb over the radius bone, swiping away the ash and grime. There are no signs of a healed break, nor has the arm ever been screwed and bolted back together.      “This isn’t Laura,” she knows.      “Well, shit,” Dean responds, staggered. “If this ain’t her, then where the hell is she?”      “Good question.” Zoë rises again, going over the clues they have gathered so far. “Let’s head to the Shire house, get back to Sam. We gotta figure this out, fast.”

     The two hunters pack up, Dean hauling the dirt back into the grave while Zoë gathers his jacket and the torches. It takes him less longer than digging the hole in the first place, even though he has to bite through the pain. Not wanting to let Zoë know and give him a reason to scold him again, he keeps his mouth shut.

     Thirty minutes later, the driver of the Chevrolet settles down on the front seat, closing the door behind him. “Where to?”      Zoë has already pulled her laptop out, studying the map of Paragould on the screen. “Highway 412 up west, right on Reynolds Road, and then take left on Reynolds Park Road.”      Dean guides the Chevrolet back onto the street, focused on traffic while the passenger takes in the moving world outside the window. The sinking sun sends an orange glow through the Impala, reflecting on the polished hood of the classic car. They are losing light, they are losing time.

     When the driver glances aside briefly, he detects the pondering frown knitted between Zoë’s eyebrows.      “Do you happen to see any bright ideas in that thousand mile stare?” he wonders.      “We can’t split up, so we have to find Laura’s body and figure out how she relocates with the information we already have,” she says, thinking out loud.      Dean brainstorms. “Maybe the way she relocates is a clue on itself.”

     Zoë lets the air fall from her lips while thinking about that, trying to make sense of it all. “She can jump houses, but stays in a certain area. The principal’s home, the hospital, the Dawlson’s house, they are not far from each other, but what connects them?”      “When you saw her, she was wet through, right? That has to mean something,” the older Winchester brother contemplates.      “Yeah, but doesn’t make any sense. We know she didn’t drown,” she ponders, glancing aside at the driver as he turns on Reynolds Park Road.      “What if it has something to do with the cover up of her cause of death and not with her death itself?” Dean brings to mind.

     Suddenly, it clicks. Her eyes grow wide as she straightens herself, her eyes now locked on what’s in front of her. The Reynolds Park Lake comes into view, the last of the evening light reflecting on the surface. It seems peaceful and quiet at this hour, but it becomes very clear to her that these waters hold a dark secret.      “The lake…” she huffs. “The park lake has a water purification system. It provides water to the town.”      Dean follows her gaze. It only takes a second before the penny drops. “So that’s how she travels.”

     It all makes sense now. Why Sam’s vision showed the sprinklers when he saw Taylor Dawlson get attacked. Why the faucets in Zoë’s hotel room opened right before she manifested. She’s not six feet in the ground, she’s six feet under water.      “Little Laura took a swim,” Zoë realizes.

     Stunned that they actually managed to crack the case, she glances aside at the green-eyed hunter, who shares a knowing look with her, a small smirk playing on his lips. They finally know what happened, before and after the girl’s death. All they have to do now is find the remains so they can put the spirit to rest, and who knows, maybe Zoë will make that deadline after all.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page). 

Read chapter thirteen here

[slytherinlesbian3]

All of the colors. Knock yourself out

Alright, Anon. I see you. I’ll leave out the ones I’ve already done though <3

red: describe your favorite shirt Blue. Literally just blue. Tight, but not too tight. Makes my biceps and boobs pop so it’s pretty nice.

blue: preferred type of weather? Rain or snow.

purple: a poem you think describes your closest friend Not a poem, but “I’ll be right beside you to the very end.”

turquoise: favorite sea animal? Dolphins.

cyan: are you religious? spiritual? Uh, I believe in more than one god and lean more toward Roman/Norse mythology than religion. I believe in every god, really. But I’m not submitting myself to blind faith for a cult I know nothing about.

violet: are you a part of the lgbt+ community? Lesbian through and through.

aqua: do you thrift? Do I...what? Thrift as in steal or thrift as in buy on sale? Because yes.

black: would you ever try going vegetarian or vegan? No.

coral: an animal you wish hadn't gone extinct Bro...Dodo birds. They were dope.

grey: how many languages do you speak? do you want to learn any more? Technically I only fluently speak English, but when I was younger I only spoke in Italian except to my family sejfnskejnfdjskn. I’m learning Latin right now and I can still speak Italian but not nearly as much. I know bits of French, German, Japanese, and Czech though. Beside Latin, I don’t really wanna learn any others.

maroon: do you care for clothing brands? Adidas and 511. Adidas because I’m a slut for soccer and 511 because their pants are so COMFY BRO. But they’re expensive so I only own a 511 belt </3

rose: favourite scent on a person? Something...floral. Roses or cherry blossom. Coconut is nice too. Vanilla is cliche but you can never go wrong with it.

charcoal: have you ever been camping? No and I do not wish for it ever.

claret: do you play an instrument? do you want to learn to play any? Trumpet and guitar. 6 years, 11 months.

copper: gold or silver jewelry? Neither, but silver probably. Just looks nicer with my skin tone.

cream: any piercings or tattoos? do you want any? None. I don’t even have my ears pierced. However, I do want a snake tattoo on my thigh lmaoo.

salmon: how many pairs of sunglasses do you own? Like 5 but I only wear one because they’re aviators :D

indigo: have you ever lived on a farm? Nope but I have stayed on one for about a month.

lavender: relationship status? Single but I do have a tumblr wife: @maritasdump​

erin: what was/is your best school subject? ENGLISH BECAUSE I CAN WRITE ESSAYS IN LITERALLY 15 MINUTES

fulvous: another name you think would suit you Ew, uh...well, Vi. It’s my nickname since it’s the shortened version of the nickname of my real name, but it fits me better.

coconut: a subject you enjoy learning about Rome and Latin :D

frost: a -core you enjoy A what.

porcelain: an tv show you used to love Powerpuff Girls, Teen Titans (original), eh

fawn: any interesting family stories? Well, one time my brother got a stick stuck in his shin. Kinda funny. Another time my brother broke my leg while on a trampoline Another time my brother almost broke my ankle by daring me to jump off a 20 foot ledge. Another time I made my brother bleed with my nails for taking my skittles. I could go on...it’s just a lot of sibling violence.

gold: do you wear your socks mismatched? I used to but I just wear black socks now. (Except for soccer)

honey: your thoughts on magic- does it exist? Yeah. Just in different forms:)

rust: form of art you enjoy doing? Writing lmao. But I guess just sketching is fun.

mahogany: your sun, moon, and rising signs I have 0 desire to calculate that because I don’t know it off the top of my head but I’m a capricorn and I feel like that’s enough information

blood: twin beds, queen, or king? ...And there was only one bed...

hot pink: did you/do you had/have strong feelings against the color pink? Hot pink is nasty but regular pink is cool asf. My soccer socks for October games are pink and I wear them every practice/game.

plum: a food you've never tried A lot, but I’ve tried a hella ton of European foods. So, uh...I’m not really sure. Something non-American (all Americas), non-EU, and non-Asian, I know that. 

lilac: dogs, cats, or fish? CATS.

amethyst: do you collect anything? Knives.

mulberry: earbuds or headphones? Eh...Depends what I’m doing. Voice chat? Headphones. Music at the bus stop? Earbuds.

azure: jean jackets? My God - on other people? Hot. On me? I’ll stick to leather.

teal: have a job? Not yet.

sapphire: do you think you can sing well? For the most part, yeah. Trying to incorporate my guitar playing with it and it’s going pretty smoothly.

mint: favourite flavour of gum? Juicy Fruit simply because my grandmother got me hooked on it from a really young age. That or plain ol’ wintermint.

pecan: shuffle your playlist, what's the first song that comes up? Follow by Breaking Benjamin

penny: icecream or cake Ew. Sweets are a hit or miss for me, but um? Probably ice cream.

ash: can you do your own makeup? Hell no. I’ve only worn makeup twice and it was applied by someone else.

jade: ever written fanfiction? EKFMNSKENFJKDSN SO MUCH.

grape: how many blogs do you follow? 346!

umber: do you brush your teeth before you eat? No, ew. Why would you do that?

chestnut: type of phone you have iPhone 10 XS. Got it last May...First new phone I’d ever owned. Went from an iPod that could only call, to a phone that could only call, then an iPhone 5 until I was 15. They were all hand-me-downs and I never complained. They worked fine.

prussian blue: what's your first choice at the vending machine Soda, probably. If it’s food, either the chips or the rice krispy <3

aquamarine: beach or pool Pool. I’ve come too close to death at the beach to enjoy it anymore.

brass: least favorite food condiment Mayo/horse radish.

mustard: how much sugar in your tea/coffee? All of it.

silver: ever broken a bone? My entire leg and foot <3

rose quartz: rings or necklaces Necklaces with rings. I’m serious. But if I had to choose, rings. It’s the gay in me.

onyx: do you still play Minecraft? Sometimes?

burgundy: ever ridden a motorcycle? NO BUT I WANT ONE MORE THAN ANYTHING IN THE FRIGGIN UNIVERSE

apricot: opinion on 3 in 1 body wash/hair wash wait those exist? 

platinum: do you follow politics? Dude I didn’t know Trump was president til this year

magnolia: your Instagram handle? ha, nice try, luzer.

Bro I am LATE to somewhere because of this but I enjoyed it. Thanks again, anon! <3

Color Asks (I am closing this shite because I AM TIRED)

[smokeybrandreviews]

Jill Sandwich

So Resident Evil 3 Remake is out in the wild and i can finally talk about this thing in detail. I have an interesting relationship with the RE franchise. It’s kind of a love/hate situation. I love the first three titles and Veronica. I kind of hate everything that came after. IV through VI are just plain awful, particularly VI. Cats fight me about IV but i don’t care for it. Capcom stopped doing what they do best, desperate survival horror, and started emulating those action films starring Leeloo Dallas. That’s find but, i mean, watching Chris Redfield, jacked up on the super roids, punch out a whole ass boulder, while fighting a chimera virus infected Wesker, in the heart of a goddamn volcano, was way too much. And there was another entire game after that one with this campy, wacky, bullsh*t. I hated it. All of it. Then Resident Evil VII dropped and everything changed.

Revelations hinted at a return to form but it was REVII that showed the world what Resident Evil was really about. My goodness was that game good. I was on the edge of my seat playing through that coil of stress, atmosphere, and insidious violence. It was beautiful. That game was beautiful. I found my self longing for that engine, driving my favorite title of the entire franchise, Resident Evil II. To my surprise i got exactly what i wanted. Holy sh*t, when Resident Evils II Remake dropped, i sh*t myself. This was the Resident Evil game i always wanted. This is what survival horror should have been the entire time. Remake hit every note of nostalgia while building a brand new experience. Not only were the graphics updated, bu the entire story was streamline and, thanks to some excellent voice work, it was rather enthralling this go around. REII was already one of my favorite games but Remake found a spit right next to it on my all-time list. When i finished that motherf*cker for the first time, after experiencing that horror on two legs called Mr. X, i thought about how dope Nemesis would be in this engine. To my surprise, i wouldn’t have to wait long to find out.

First and foremost, R3make is goddamn gorgeous. It’s absolutely beautiful. Capcom’s RE Engine pulls all of it’s weight on this one. The lighting and particle effects are spectacular. I thought Remake II looked great but this game really stand out. There are a few little concessions made to push the hardware but that’s to be forgiven. I can deal with an exploding limb or disappearing body if it means i can get the detail and literally horde levels of zombies on my ass at all times. It’s insane just how many of theses things are packed on screen, in that level detail, while Nemesis is launching f*cking rockets at you.

I have to absolutely gush about the writing for a minute here. I remember the old REIII being kind of hokey, kind of campy. I chocked it up to the limitations of the OG PlayStation. Not this one. The PS4 gives the script writers a level of power to get really creative. The dialogue Jill has with everyone feels real, It feels organic. She acts like a person with training in the middle of a crisis and i adore every second of it. I mean, her banter with Carlos is more than enough for the price of admission.

Also, Jill is just a regular badass. It’s dope seeing her getting her proper due in this game. The last time we saw her, outside of one of those Revelation games, she was a muppet for Wesker. Bullsh*t, son! Not here. Here, she is in all her bad ass. Umbrella busting, glory and i love it. I also love her redesign. Function over fashion, ya dig?

The remix of levels caught me off guard at first. They took out a lot of set pieces i remember like the park and Jill’s run through the RPD. These aspects of her original playthrough make an appearance, just in completely different ways. Also worth mentioning, there are like, no puzzled in this game. I remember the original being very, frustratingly, puzzle heavy way back when. This game is not that. It is a narrative focused, action driven, murder fest. I am more than okay with that particular alteration.

The redesigned enemies in this game are spectacular. I kind of expected a few changed, mostly based on the Ivy from Remake II, but Capcom really found a way to be creative with these new enemies. There’s, like, Las Plagas zombies in this thing. You blow of their heads and a parasite pops out. It’s insane. I always though Nemesis was infected with a Plagas and this game kind of confirms that. I love the new take on the Hunters. The Alphas have kind of a predator face now but the Gammas? The Gammas have this massive parasite that pops out of their gaping maws. It looks just like the Gravedigger and since there isn’t really a park level to this game, imagine they serve the same purpose. Or, repurpose in this case. There’s even a couple of surprises in store for those who know their lore. Their horrifying Resident Evil lore.

F*cking Nemesis, man. Nemesis is nightmare fuel incarnate. Dude is outright horrifying, the entire time you play this game. He’s fast, agile, and f*cking terrifying. I had problems with Mr. X but this asshole? Dude literally sprints after you when you run away. I kind of hate it but, at the same time, i f*cking need it! Good ol’ Nemi’s redesign is amazing. I was a little iffy at first, but seeing it in action sold me. And then his second form happened. Bro. What? And then that third. Okay, Capcom, come on? Y’all were just showing off with that one.

The only thing holding this game back, in my opinion, is that it can get a little REVI at times. I mean that the action becomes just a hair too over-the-top. That entire end sequence with final form Nemesis was absolutely ridiculous. I mean, i loved it, don’t get me wrong, but, f*ck, coming off Remake II and several parts of this one, it just felt a little out of place. There’s a few times where this issue creeps up but, like i said, it’s more of a nitpick than anything. The grounded nature and character driven narrative distract from the more... zealous aspects of this game.

As far as gameplay, if you played Remake II or any of the RE titles after IV, you know what to expect. Over the shoulder, third person, all day! I hate shooters but i can play the f*ck out of these types. Tank controls have gone the way of the dodo it seems but i ‘m not bad with their replacement. This game feels right with this camera set up. Shooting feels right. Dodging feels rewarding. This game feels real good to play.

There aren’t anymore of those quick decision deals like in the original but that’s not a problem. They would have interfered with the narrative driven aspects of this game. You can still, you know, shoot Nemi in the face for dope sh*t but i wouldn’t. F*ck all of that. Maybe after a third of fourth playthrough. Maybe. There’s no Mercenaries mode or multiple endings but you can play a good portion as Carlos and there’s a brand new multiplayer component with it’s own narrative called Resident Evil Resistance so, i guess that’s dope? I dunno. I f*cks with that single player campaign all day, tho.

R3make is f*cking outstanding. I love this game. Absolutely adore the f*ck out of it. I still like Remake II better but that’s more because i just adore II overall. That said, R3make is the f*cking tits. This sh*t is fast paced, adrenaline pumping, stress inducing, action packed, zombie killing. It does justice to Jill, makes me care about Carlos, and even does some interesting things with Nemesis. I was thoroughly surprised by some narrative choices taken but they dded to the overall plot,giving life to a game that sorely needed it, while not compromising once on gameplay. While there are certain design aspects i would have liked seen skew closer to the earlier titles in the franchise rather than the later ones, that is a small gripe. Even in all of it’s Bayhem glory, and there is a lot of that toward th end, this game never loses the spirit of who it is. Resident Evil III Remake is a f*cking masterpiece and you should get into it the second this quarantine lifts if you haven’t already had an opportunity to grab a copy.

[weasleysicon]

Conspicuous [Greaser!Ashton One Shot]

requested?: no

a/n: hello all, i’ve been very sad and stressed lately so i’ve decided to write a greaser!ashton one shot to fill that empty void in my life. the picture attached straight up gave me the inspiration. enjoy! i also recently hit 400 followers and i would like to thank everybody so much! i love u guys

warnings: language, violence, mention of violence, smut (i’ve never written smut before so i’m S ORRY if it seems a little awkward)

word count: 7.6k (this is the longest thing i have ever written in my enTIRE EXISTENCE)

another a/n: shoutout to my love, sierra (@cosmocalum), for helping me with this one shot when i was really stuck! love u buggy <3

Conspicuous, 1: standing out so as to be clearly visible. 2: attracting notice or attention.

1956

“SO, HEARD YOU’RE getting out today,” his cellmate, Vinny, piped from across their small shared cell. Ashton turned his attention away from the book he was reading, looking at the blonde man across from him.

“Seems that t’be that way,” he added quietly, not in the mood to have a conversation. Ashton Irwin was arrested for tagging and petty theft in 1953, leaving his entire life behind. He had everything he could’ve ever wanted, he was planning on finally giving the love of his life the promise ring his mother passed on to him, his family was finally opening their hearts to him, and he was surrounded with quite possibly the best people he could imagine.

He could still remember the day he was arrested; he could remember the look on his girl’s face as the cops busted into his small apartment and took him away from her, for three years.

“What are you gonna do once you’re a free man?” Vinny questioned, attempting to keep the conversation going.

“What kind of dumbass question is that, Vin?” Ashton grimaced, disgusted by such a question. He looked at Vin, who was holding a look of general wonder. He sighed, “if you must know, I’m going to get my girl. I know she’s been waiting for me all these years.”

“Irwin, she ain’t wait for you, bud.” Vinny wasn’t trying to sound like an asshole, but he felt that Ashton deserved the truth. “No girl ever waits for their fella in prison, no matter how much she loved you.”

Ashton turned his head back to the book, “she waited for me, Vin, I know she did.”

            -------

“Irwin, up! You’re out,” the guard sounded as he pulled open the cell door. Ashton closed the book he was reading and stood up to finally get out and find his girl. As he was walking through the corridor, some of the inmates were cheering, the others jeering. All of the words of anything but affirmation rolled off his back, he was getting out and they weren’t. Nearing the front desk, Ashton could see his best friend, Calum, sitting in the waiting room. A smile painted across his face, happy that someone came to get him. Rounding the corner to the desk, Ashton was presented with papers that he had to sign stating that he understood his parole and he was passed a bag with his belongings.

“Hey, mate,” Calum’s thick, gruff Australian voice sounded through his ears. Calum stood up from where he was standing to envelop his best friend in a hug, which Ashton very happily returned. “I’ve missed you, man. Streets ain’t been the same without you,” Calum said. He wasn’t lying, their small group of four hadn’t been the same once their key member was jailed, considering Ashton was like their leader in a sense.

Ashton flashed a small smile, “let’s go, Hood, I got things to do.”

As they neared Calum’s car, Ashton smiled again. “Still got your old Hudson Hornet? Nice to know that things haven’t changed much,” Ashton mused. Calum cracked a smile as he unlocked the doors and the two men slid into the car.

“What’re you gonna do now that you’re out?” Calum sounded, starting the engine. Ashton was ripping open the plastic bag and grabbed out the only two things he had on his person at the time of his arrest: his leather jacket, and his wallet. After sliding on the black jacket, he opened his wallet and took out the small picture he had.

“I’m gonna go see Sweet Pea, she’s gonna be over the moon that I’m out,” Ashton said quietly. He could’ve sworn he heard Calum’s breath hitch at the mention of Sweet Pea. The smile Ashton had on his face faltered a bit, “Calum, what’s wrong?”

“Mate, no one’s heard from Sweet Pea since you got locked up. She stopped coming around,” Calum said quietly, scared that if he said it any louder that Ashton would blow up.

Ashton’s head snapped away from the picture and towards Calum. She what!? He really had no words. She always told him that they were together forever, that they would always wait for each other, no matter what. “That’s… impossible. Maybe she just didn’t wanna hang out with you three dodo birds without me, take me to her house.”

Driving down the street couldn’t have been more awkward for Calum. He’d only scraped the surface of everything that’s changed. He didn’t even tell him the worst part of Sweet Pea dropping him, and honestly, he didn’t want to.

As they pulled up to her folk’s house, Ashton swung the door open and almost flew up the stairs to the porch. Upon knocking, the sound of laughter could be heard from inside and Ashton’s heart skipped a beat, that was his girl’s laugh. Knocking on the door, his heart was pounding in his chest. The door swung open, revealing some schmuck who didn’t look like he belonged in the house. “And who are you?” this mystery guy questioned.

A grimace took over Ashton’s face, “none of your business, where’s Sweet Pea?” As soon as he said her name, she appeared from behind the man, a worried look on her face.

“It’s okay, Johnny, it’s just Ashton,” she said, grabbing onto Johnny’s bicep. “Go wait for me in the kitchen, love, I’ll only be a minute,” as soon as she muttered those words, Johnny pressed a light kiss to her lips, causing Ashton’s eyes to almost bug out of his eyes. What in the actual fuck? Why is he kissin’ my girl? My girl! “Ashton--”

“Sweet Pea? What’s goin’ on?” Ashton asked. He couldn’t believe what was going on. His girl, with another man, kissing him and calling him love. “I just got out, babe, I’m here to take you home,” Ashton said, stepping closer, attempting to pull her into him. Sweet Pea backed away from him, rejecting his gesture with a swat of her hand.

“No, Ashton.” She ran a hand through her hair, trying to formulate the words she needed to get her point across to him. “You weren’t there for me, what was I supposed to do? Johnny’s good to me, Ash. He loves me, takes care of me, and most of all, he doesn’t get into trouble,” she explained. She wanted to wait for Ashton, she really did, but she couldn’t take the pain of not knowing if he was okay or not, if he was staying alive in prison or getting killed in the courtyard.

“You don’t belong with him, darling, he’s a fuckin’ preppy. He can’t protect you like I can, you know that, Sweet Pea,” Ashton tried to reason, stepping closer to her once again. When he reached for her again, he was met with Johnny stepping in front of her.

“I can do her one better, Greaseball,” Johnny taunted. “I can provide a life for her. The only thing you can provide for her is pain and danger, whereas I can give her the life of luxury a beautiful woman like her deserves--”

“You know nothing of our fuckin’ relationship, so I’d back up if I were you, you trust fund baby,” Ashton interjected, about halfway to sending Johnny to the emergency room with a broken nose.

“I know plenty, asshole. Get back in your buddy’s little car and tag a wall or something, trash,” Johnny finished, holding his arm out so Ashton couldn’t shuffle any closer to her. “She doesn’t love you, man--”

“Johnny, plea--” Sweet Pea tried to silence them, knowing now that Johnny was trying to get a rise out of Ashton.

“Men are talking, Sweet Pea. Go to the kitchen and find your mother,” Johnny turned his head ever so slightly to give her a hardened look. “I think you should leave, Trailer Trash.”

As Ashton was starting to step down the stairs, he turned around to glance at Sweet Pea once more, a look of sadness washing over his face. “You always said you’d wait, Sweet Pea, no matter what. You lied to me,” Ashton whispered the last part, scared that if he said it any louder, he would cry, which he did not want to do. Sliding back into Calum’s car, he let out an exasperated sigh and ran his fingers through his hair.

“For what it’s worth, mate, you still have us,” Calum said, trying to lighten up the mood.

Ashton whipped his head to Calum, “shut the fuck up and drive, Hood.”

             -------

“So he just showed up three years later—fresh out of jail—to… what? Try to get you back?” Rosie asked. Rosie was Sweet Pea’s long term best friend who knew every nook and cranny of Sweet Pea’s history with Ashton. It wasn’t hard to see the confusion in her eyes, this wasn’t a normal situation.

Sweet Pea swirled the tea around in her mug as they sat in the small diner on the Northside of town. Ever since Ashton was jailed, Sweet Pea steered clear of the Southside, scared that she might run into Ashton’s gang. “Yes! Then Johnny tried to pick a fight with him, calling him Trailer Trash and Greaseball, it just- it wasn’t good, Rose.”

“I can’t fucking stand Johnny.”

“Rose!”

“Well, it’s true. He needs to get off his high horse. You’ve been with him for, what, 11 months? You were with Ashton for 4 and a half years! Johnny doesn’t have shit on him,” Rosie expressed. Truth be told, Sweet Pea did feel something when she saw Ashton for the first time in three years. He was the first man she ever loved; he taught her how to be daring, showed her what true passion was. She could never forget that, no matter how much she wanted to.

She was angry at Ashton for getting himself locked up, yes, but he didn’t deserve to be dragged the way Johnny did. “I-I have to go, Rose. There’s something I need to take care of,” Sweet Pea blurted as she abruptly stood up from the booth and placed a few dollars on the table for her tea. She needed to talk to Ashton, to hear him out, without Johnny around. She didn’t know how she was going to do it, but dammit, it needed to happen soon.

             -------

“I’m sorry about that, man,” said Calum to his best friend, “what happened at Sweet Pea’s house this morning was uncalled for, you didn’t deserve that.” Calum was right. What happened at Sweet Pea’s house was uncalled for, but there was nothing he could do about it. Ashton appreciated having a friend like Calum though, he was always there and although sometimes he’s a little moody, he always made sure his friends and family were taken care of.

“It’s okay, Cal,” Ashton reassured. He sighed, he didn’t know what he could do to get her back, not when she’s with that fuckboy preppy. “I just-- I need to take my mind off of her. Would you mind taking me to my parents house? I need to apologize for not talking to them for three years.”

“Ashton--”

“I don’t have time to argue about this. Just take me, please, Calum,” Ashton pleaded. Calum obliged, as the two men walked out of Calum’s small apartment.

Pulling up to Ashton’s family home, he felt the same excitement and worry he felt as when they pulled up to Sweet Pea’s house earlier that day. Ashton didn’t keep in contact with his family while he was in jail, too afraid of the disappointment and the stress he’d be putting his mother and siblings through. As Calum’s car sat on the curb, Ashton stayed staring at the house. There was a different car in the driveway, which Ashton just waved off as the possibility of his mother purchasing a new car. But then he saw it. The curtains were drawn back and he had the perfect view of the inside of the house, where he saw a little old man cross into the living room and sit in a big arm chair that he also did not recognize. Ashton was… confused, to say the least. “What in the,” he whispered to himself as he unbuckled his seat belt.

“What are you doing, Ash?” Calum questioned, ready to stop his friend from going and scaring this poor old man.

Ashton looked at Calum for a split second before directing his stare back at the house. “I need to see who that is and why the fuck he’s in my mother’s house.” As Ashton was getting ready to open the car door, Calum placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Listen, man, this is going to be hard to hear,” said Calum, “your family moved out of town about a year and a half ago, nobody knows why or where they moved to.” At this, shock took over Ashton’s body. He slowly pulled the car door closed and sat there, shell shocked. His family left him.

“Th-They left me?” Ashton said in the smallest voice. Ashton wasn’t one to cry but dammit, this was the straw that broke the camel's back.

“Ash—“

“No, Calum, they fuckin’ left me! First, the love of my life decides to replace me with some preppy asshole and now my family up and left me! I have no one, man, no one!” Wiping a few stray tears off his cheeks, Ashton sniffled and the look on his face hardened.

“Ashton, you’re not alone, mate. You have me, you know my apartment is open to you,” Calum said quietly, “why don’t we get drinks tonight, huh? Might do ya some good.”

The ride to the bar was filled with silence, neither of them knowing the correct words to say. Ashton was a little more on edge, with good reason. The ride seemed to be going on a little longer than Ashton had remembered, noticing that they entered the part of town where Luke and Michael lived. Luke and Michael lived more on the Eastside of town, whereas Calum—and now Ashton—lived on the Southside of Grand Haven. “What are we doing, man?” Ashton asked, “I thought we were going to the bar.”

“We are, Ash, we’re just doing something first,” Calum assured him.

At this point, Ashton could add skeptical to the list of emotions he was currently feeling. “I can see that, but my question was what are we doing?” Ashton emphasized the question, hoping that Calum would catch onto the hint of annoyance in his voice. Calum did not.

“Just-- you’ll see, mate,” Calum said to his best friend, “you’ll see.”

Ashton sighed. “I fucking hate surprises, Hood.”

It turns out that exactly what Ashton thought was happening, was happening. They had picked up Michael and Luke to join them at the bar for the night. He wasn’t explicitly angry, he loved Michael and Luke to pieces, he just hadn’t told them that he was released from prison, much less anything else that was currently going on.

The rest of the car ride was awkward, to say the least. It was filled with small talk, mostly from Calum and the other two, with occasional head nods from Ashton to show he was still down on Earth with them. Every once and awhile, one of the boys would attempt to converse with Ashton about how he was doing, with no prevail.

About three hours later, Ashton was feeling light on his feet. He typically wasn’t one to get drunk quickly but not having a single drink for three years really changes a person's tolerance. Although he was feeling better, his thoughts were still consumed by Sweet Pea. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to get up begin walking towards the exit of the bar, leather jacket in hand, but that’s exactly what he was doing. He didn’t get far, as one of the boys tried to grab his bicep to stop him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa where are you going, mate?” Michael asked, trying to pull his friend back to where everyone else was.

“I’m goin-- I just need a breath of fresh air, mate,” Ashton said, “I’ll be back.” Knowing that he couldn’t keep him from going outside, Michael let him. As Ashton was standing outside, it seemed as if his brain and his feet were moving on autopilot. He wasn’t sure if what he was doing was the right thing, but the alcohol in his system was telling him otherwise. The bar they were currently at was located in the central part of Grand Haven, towards the back, but Ashton has made this walk many a time. The February air was quite chilly tonight, but his leather jacket kept him warm enough, as well as the alcohol in him. Walking down the street, Ashton was all in his head. He wasn’t quite sure of what he was going to say yet, he just knew he had to go to her.

About halfway to the Northside of town, the once busy streets of Grand Haven began to quiet down, as everyone was off of work and inside their homes. It was beginning to get colder as well, as it was nearing the later part of night. The walk from the bar to Sweet Pea’s house wasn’t very far, it was just taking Ashton longer since he was intoxicated and worrying about how he was walking so he wouldn’t trip and fall. He was so caught up in his own mind, he almost didn’t register the hand slamming on his shoulder. “Cal, mate--”

“Did you not hear me, Greaseball?” Ashton turned around to be face to face with some random townie. “Go back to your dumpster.”

Ashton blinked, suddenly it seemed as if the alcohol in his veins was leaving his body. “Excuse me?” He was confused for two reasons: why this person decided to bother him, and why in the hell did this townie think it was fine putting his hands on him?

“You don’t belong here,” the townie once again repeated. Ashton felt his face heat up, who was this person to say whether or not he belonged somewhere? Why does it matter? What was Ashton doing that bothered this person so much?

“Sorry you feel that way, mate,” Ashton said, “bye.” The townie obviously wasn’t pleased with Ashton’s tone of voice, seeing as he once again grabbed his shoulder and shoved him. If Ashton wasn’t already fuming, he sure in hell was now. As he turned around, he scowled at the person behind him. “What the fu--”

Ashton’s words were met with a fist straight to his mouth. Is this piece of shit townie really trying to pick a fight? It didn’t take long for him to react, swinging at the townie himself. Ashton let the anger that had been boiling in his body all day take over, swinging relentlessly at the guy, receiving a few punches to the gut and cheek himself. Ashton wasn’t going to stop until the man was on the floor and would leave him alone. With a few more swings to the stomach and chin, the townie was sent to the ground groaning. “Fucking hell,” Ashton muttered as he turned around to leave the man on the ground.

“You’re on the wrong side of town,” the townie groaned as he stood to his feet. Shouldn’t I be saying that? Ashton thought in his head as he turned around to once again come face to face with the townie. How in the fuck did he get up? The townie snickered, “you’re gonna regret coming back.” He reached into the pocket of his blue jeans and pulled out a switchblade, smirking at Ashton.

“What the fuck?” Ashton said, stepping back. The townie stepped forwards once again, swinging the switchblade, slashing him on his stomach. Ashton doubled over in pain, hand gripping his stomach. The townie swung again, this time slitting Ashton’s cheek. Shit, if Ashton thought he was in pain now, this was excruciating.

The townie crouched down to Ashton’s level, smirking, “you’re trash,” he spat, “go back to prison where you belong.”

             -------

The sound of the doorbell startled Sweet Pea from the half sleep state she was in. She glanced at the clock on the wall above the television set, 2:54 AM. She blinked a couple times, wondering who was at the door at such a late hour into the night. She flicked on the porch light, looking through the peephole. Ashton. It’s Ashton.

Sweet Pea quickly unlocked the front door and swung it open, to reveal a hurt Ashton. He half smiled upon seeing her, as that was all he could do without doubling over in pain. “Ashton,” she began, pulling her robe tighter around her as the chilly February breeze hit her unexpectedly, “are you okay? Let me take a look at you.”

Listening to her, Ashton sauntered over to Sweet Pea. She lifted her hands, running her fingers along his cheek, where the new slash made home. As her finger ran across it, Ashton hissed “Gentle, love,” he whispered, afraid that if he spoke too loud he’d scare the small, doe-eyed woman in front of him.

“Come on, let's get you cleaned up, okay?” She asked, carefully gripping his bicep so she could pull him inside her house. Sweet Pea lead him into the small kitchen and had him sit the table so she could get the first aid kit to tend to his wounds. Walking over to him ripping open an alcohol pad with his teeth, she looked into Ashton’s eyes for the first time that night. There was something in them she couldn’t exactly pinpoint; she didn’t know what she was doing. Here she was in her kitchen, cleaning up her ex-boyfriend-slash-ex-con after what seemed to be a bad fight at nearly 3 AM. “This is going to sting a little,” she warned him before bringing the alcohol wipe to his split lip to clean off the dried blood. Once again Ashton hissed, pleading Sweet Pea to be gentle, to which she replied with a small smile.

“I’m sorry,” Ashton started, “I shouldn’t have come to bother you, love.”

Sweet Pea sighed, “what happened to you?”

“I was at the bar with Calum and the boys and I needed to come see yo--”

“No, Ashton,” she said to him with her eyes shut as if she was trying to figure out what the right words were to say, “I’m not talking about tonight. I’m talking about in general. What happened to the man I once knew? My Ashton would not have gotten himself locked up.”

“Sweet Pea, please,” Ashton said. He’d been waiting to tell her why he got put into prison in the first place for the longest time, he just… he didn’t know how. How was he supposed to tell the love of his life that he was caught shoplifting when he already had a warrant on a tagging charge? “This is gonna be really hard for me to say, doll,” Ashton told the woman in front of him, looking at him with a sense of worry that Ashton could detect a mile away, “I was arrested on a petty theft charge when I already had a warrant out for tagging.”

“You… what? You had a warrant out for your arrest?” Sweet Pea was in shock, to say the least. She hung her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. Ashton had never felt more guilt for anything in his entire life and seeing Sweet Pea this incredibly disappointed in him made everything worse. “What’d you try n’ steal, Ash?”

“What?” Ashton asked, taken aback by her words.

“You heard me,” she said, “what did you try to steal?”

Ashton took a deep breath, “medication for Harry.” Little Harry Dawkins was Ashton’s youngest sibling, only twelve at the time of Ashton’s arrest. “He was-he was sick. Mum couldn’t afford the medication for him, I couldn’t afford the medication for him. I wasn’t going to let my little brother be in pain, doll, you know how much my siblings mean to me,” Ashton said quietly, lowering his head in shame. He looked at the floor and then slowly raised his head to make eye contact with Sweet Pea. “I’m angry at myself for getting arrested and leaving my family and leaving you for three years, but I’d do it again. If it meant Harry or Lauren or you were getting what you needed, then fuck, I’d steal anything.”

Sweet Pea felt her stomach tie itself into knots at his words. Ashton always has been a family man. “I understand,” she told him, “you shouldn’t have stolen, though. You could have come to me, love, my parents would’ve been more than happy to get Harry the medication, they have the money for it.”

“I was supposed to provide for you, Sweet Pea, not the other way around,” Ashton said, head hanging low once again.

As much as she would like to suppress it, Sweet Pea couldn’t ignore the feelings she still felt for Ashton in her heart. This was the man she was with for almost five years, how could she not still feel something for him? Sure, he was in jail for three years and she’s with Johnny now but she couldn’t help but think of that would happen if she gave Johnny, and possibly her family up, all for Ashton.

By that morning, Ashton was long gone. Sweet Pea offered for him to sleep on the couch, seeing as he was in no shape to be on his own, which he was thankful for, he just didn’t want her family to find him in the morning. After she cleaned him up, they spent hours catching up and laughing about old stories from when they were still together. Although he wasn’t afraid to admit it, he was scared of his feelings for Sweet Pea. He knew he still loved her, of course he did, but she was with someone new and he had to respect that. As much as he wanted to swoop her into his arms and kiss both of their pain away, he knew that’d only cause more tension.

             -------

Ashton walked into the small diner that morning, he quickly caught sight of his three friends sitting in a booth towards the back. As he was walking to them, Luke looked up and smiled when he saw his friend. “Hey, fellas,” Ashton said as he slid into the booth next to Luke. Looking at the boys, Ashton could tell that Michael was nursing a hangover, as well as Luke.

“What happened to you last night?” Calum asked Ashton, “you can’t just disappear like that, man.You look horrible.” Ashton let out a huff. He knew that Calum was just looking out for his best interest, but holy shit, Ashton was a grown man who could take care of himself. Worry about yourself, Calum.

“I went to see Sweet Pea,” Ashton started. Upon hearing that, all of the boys suddenly perked up. “On my way there, some random townie stopped me, talking about how I was in the ‘wrong part of town’ and then pulled a fucking blade on me.” As soon as he said the word blade, Michael’s eyes went wide.

“Dude, are you okay?” Michael asked.

Ashton laughed, “I’m fine, mate,” he said to Michael, “Sweet Pea cleaned my wounds for me.”

“Sweet Pea? She took care of you?” Calum asked, almost as if he didn’t believe what Ashton was saying. What’s that supposed to mean? Ashton tried to hide his annoyance, but he wasn’t always the best at hiding his facial expressions.

“Yes, Calum, she took care of me. After that we talked for hours. I explained what happened to her and then we spent some time catching up,” Ashton said, “it was really nice.”

“You sound like a lovesick puppy,” Luke chuckled.

“So what if I’m in love? It’s not like my feelings for her have faded away at all,” Ashton raised his voice. Who were they to criticize him spending time with Sweet Pea? Why did it matter if he was still in love with Sweet Pea or not?

“Mate, we’re not trying to piss you off or anything,” Luke started, “but you need to take a look at the situation. She’s in a relationship with someone else, who she probably loves. I know this is hard to hear, but you need to accept the fact that maybe she’s moved on from you.”

             -------

“Mom, I need your advice,” said Sweet Pea, walking into the living room where her mother was sat in her chair with a cup of tea.

“Of course,” her mother said, setting down the romance novel she’d been reading. Sweet Pea’s mother was always the one person she knew she could always count on. Her mother gave the best advice which always had her best interest in mind.

“Don’t get mad at me, mom,” Sweet Pea said to her mother who now had furrowed eyebrows, “Ashton was over last night,” As soon as she mentioned Ashton, her mother's face went to normal, her lips forming into a small smile.

“I know that, honey,” her mother said, “I could hear your guy’s quiet laughter.”

“Mom!” Sweet Pea yelled, covering her face with her hands. “I need to ask you a question.”

“Shoot,” her mother already could guess what Sweet Pea was going to ask, but didn’t want to prod at her daughter, she wanted Sweet Pea to come to those revelations herself.

“When Ashton and I were talking, I-I felt something. Something that I haven’t ever felt being with Johnny,” Sweet Pea started. She wasn’t sure how exactly how to word her feelings to her mother, or even to herself. “I think-I think--”

“You’re still in love with Ashton,” Sweet Pea’s mother finished for her. As soon as the words escaped her mom’s mouth, her eyes went wide. “Don’t worry, sweetie, I already knew. How could you not still be in love with him? You were with him for almost five years, you wanted to plan a future with the man,” her mother said, and she was right. Before Ashton was jailed, Sweet Pea had sat down with both of her parents, explaining that she was in love with the ill-tempered Greaser who she saw a complete future with.

“I don’t know what to do, Mom,” Sweet Pea whispered, hanging her head down in frustration.

“You tell him, dear,”  her mother said, “love is too beautiful of a thing to let go like that. If you don’t tell Ashton how you feel and you stay with Johnny, you’re going to regret that for the rest of your life.”

Sweet Pea took a deep breath, her mother was right. I need to tell Ashton, I need to tell Ashton, I need to tell Ashton. The sentence kept repeating itself in her head over and over again until they didn’t sound like words anymore. But what about Johnny? “Mom,” Sweet Pea said, “what about Johnny? Isn’t it not fair to him for me to leave him for someone he considers ‘trailer trash’?”

“It’s more fair for you to leave the relationship now then it’d be if you stayed with him while in love with another man,” her mother said. Sweet Pea always knew her mother had great advice, but it only seems that she is purely talking from the heart right now.

“Mom, you are really passionate about this,” she laughed at her mother. Her mother smiled fondly, looking over to photo of her and her husband.

“Honey, I was in another relationship when I realized I was in love with your father. If I wouldn’t have left that other man, I wouldn’t have your father and more importantly, I wouldn’t have you,” her mother explained. Sweet Pea wasn’t in shock, as opposed to just in awe of her mother. “You need to fight for love, Sweet Pea. And let me tell you, Ashton Irwin is worth fighting for.”

             -------

A little over a week later, Johnny was sat at the dinner table with Sweet Pea and her parents. She’d been acting a little out of character tonight, with good reason. She had given a lot of thought to what her mother said and yes, she was going to end things with Johnny and confess her feelings to Ashton. How could she not? It wasn’t that Johnny wasn’t good to her, she just didn’t share the same chemistry with him that she has with Ashton.

The family ate in silence, the awkward tension rising in the room. Johnny very awkwardly cleared his throat and looked at Sweet Pea’s parents. “If I could have everyone’s attention, please,” he asked as he stood up from his seat, directing his attention to a very awkward looking Sweet Pea. “Sweet Pea, I love you. I know we haven’t been together very long, but I know we’re here to stay,” Johnny began, causing Sweet Pea and her mother’s eyes to almost bulge out of their heads. This cannot be happening. Sweet Pea whipped her head over to her mother, who was staring down at her plate, pushing the pot roast around. Helpful.

“Johnny, what are you doing?” She asked him. She had a feeling of what he was going to do, but she didn’t want to believe that’s what actually was happening.

Johnny sighed. “Let me finish, Sweet Pea,” he demanded. For someone who’s confessing their love, he’s awfully rude. “As I was saying, I wanna spend the rest of my life with you,” he said, moving from his seat the kneel in front of her. Sweet Pea couldn’t contain the gasp escaping from her mouth, as well as her mother. This was not happening right now. “Please, please, please marry me, Sweet Pea.”

She looked into his eyes for the first time that evening. This wasn’t the future she saw for herself. She didn’t see her elf as being a little housewife for a man who didn’t even appreciate her; she saw herself with someone who wants better for her and someone who was okay with the fact that Sweet Pea didn’t want the stereotypical family. Sweet Pea saw herself with someone much like Ashton. “I-I… Johnny, I need to talk to you,” she looked over at her parents, “alone.”

Sweet Pea’s parents excused themselves to the backyard, while Sweet Pea stayed seated in her chair. Johnny stood up and began pacing, which made Sweet Pea even more nervous. “What are we talking about?” Johnny asked, stopping so he was standing in front of her once again.

“Johnny,” Sweet Pea started nervously, “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

Johnny furrowed his eyebrows together, “tell me what?” His tone sounded a little harsher than Sweet Pea would like, not that she was surprised.

Sweet Pea closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. It’s now or never. Opening her eyes, she muttered, “I can’t marry you, Johnny.” As soon as the words fell past her lips, Johnny’s eyes went wide and his once blank stare was hardened.

“Oh yeah?” Johnny started, venom lacing his words. “And why is that?”

“I don’t- I don’t love you…” Sweet Pea whispered.

At that sentence, Johnny scoffed. “You don’t love me?” he shouted. “Who do you love? Hmm? I wanna know the truth.”

“Johnny, I-I--”

“No I know who, you love that fuckin’ Greaseball, don’t you?” he sneered. “That piece of shit can’t provide for you. I don’t know why you think that being with him is going to be easy, Sweet Pea,” Johnny laughed, “if you’d marry me, you wouldn’t have to work a day in your life. That Greaser can’t offer you that. You’ll be working more than he does.”

Sweet Pea stood up from her seat, blood boiling that he could ever talk about someone so amazing in such a demeaning tone. “You know what, Johnny? Yeah, I do love that ‘fuckin’ Greaseball’, who’s name is Ashton, by the way. That man has shown me more love in the four and a half years I was with them than an entire lifetime with you,” she spat. Johnny looked a little taken aback at the newfound attitude Sweet Pea has acquired. “Before you judge someone, why don’t you actually get to know them? Ashton has more kindness in his pinkie than you have in your entire body, his smile can light up a room, and fuck, you can lose yourself in that man’s eyes for hours.” She didn’t know why she was telling Johnny all of this, perhaps she was more so talking to herself at this point than to him. “I love that ill-tempered man with the sweetest heart,” she ended, looking back at Johnny’s hardened face, feeling absolutely disgusted with herself for putting up with him for as long as she did. Shaking her head, she began to walk down the hallway where her bedroom door was. Looking back one last time, she smirked, “you can leave now, Johnny.” And like that, she single handedly realized two things: Johnny was a piece of shit and that she was sure that Ashton Irwin was the love of her life.

             -------

“You sure you don’t wanna go out with us, mate?” Calum asked Ashton. The boys had all been trying to convince Ashton to go to the bar with them again, but Ashton couldn’t bring himself to go.

Ashton flashed a small smile at his friends, “why don’t you guys just go? I’ll be fine here.” Not wanting to waste any more time, Calum just nodded and bid his best friend goodbye. Ashton sighed to himself, happy that he was finally alone.

Ever since the night that Sweet Pea took care of him, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. She was already always consuming his thoughts, now it was taken to the next level. He found that night at Sweet Pea’s house to be very therapeutic, knowing that it was probably time for her to know the truth.

For the next hour and a half or so, Ashton stared at the small black and white television set Calum had set up in the living room. The movie Casablanca was playing and Ashton couldn’t help but feel a sense of sadness. Sweet Pea absolutely loves this movie with her entire being, always watching it when it came on the television and of course forcing Ashton to watch it with her. Towards the end of the movie, there was a knock on the door, startling Ashton out of the relaxation he was previously feeling.

Standing up from the couch, Ashton went to the door and looked out the peephole. It can’t be. As if acting on autopilot, he swung the door open to reveal Sweet Pea. He looked her up and down, taking note of the upset look on her face. “Sweet Pea, love, why are you here?” Ashton asked her.

She looked up into his hazel eyes, and knew that it was time. “I need to talk to you, Ash,” she said to him, “it’s important.”

Upon hearing those words, Ashton’s heart rate picked up and he stood to the side, ushering Sweet Pea into Calum’s apartment. She looked around for a second, her eyes landing on the television set. “You’re watching Casablanca,” she smiled softly.

“Your favorite movie,” Ashton said to her. Sweet Pea turned her head away from the television and to Ashton once again in complete awe. He remembered.

As Ashton took a seat on the couch, Sweet Pea went over and sat down next to him. She didn’t exactly know how to tell him, but it shouldn’t be that hard, right? She had gotten over the obstacle of telling Johnny, but now she was faced with her biggest obstacle of all: telling Ashton her feelings. “So,” she awkwardly began, “Johnny proposed to me.”

Ashton’s eyes widened for a moment. She was goin’ to marry that piece of shit? “Oh-oh yeah? How’d that g--”

“I told him no, Ashton,” she interrupted him. Just then, she felt her breathing go slow. Ashton, on the other hand, swallowed one of the many lumps in his throat. “I told him no,” she repeated again, softer this time.

“You did?” Ashton asked. “Why?”

“Because he’s not the one I love,” she said, looking down at her lap. Sweet Pea looked up, looking gazes with Ashton, the confused expression very clearly painted on his face.

“He’s not the one you love…” Ashton pondered out loud, more to himself than to her.

Without thinking, Sweet Pea whispered, “I love you.” Had it not incredibly quiet in the apartment, the only noise coming from the television that was basically muted, Ashton could’ve missed the three words he’s been waiting to hear for the past three years. “You-you what? Really?” he asked.

Sweet Pea smiled, finally happy that she got what’s been eating her alive for the past week out into the open. “Of course I do, Ash,” she said, reaching her hand out to grasp his, “it’s you. It’s always been you.”

Ashton looked at her in complete and utter shock. He couldn’t believe that she actually said it to him. Sure, he knew she probably still had a little bit of love for her, but she was really good at hiding it. He closed his eyes, basking in the moment for a second. It was what Sweet Pea said next that made everything feel real.

“Ashton,” she said, catching him out of his own thoughts. “Kiss me. Kiss me as if it were the last time.” She was quoting the movie, and the line couldn’t be more fitting for the moment.

Ashton collided his lips with Sweet Pea’s in what seemed like the most desperate, romantic, lustful, and overdue kiss either one of them had ever experienced. It was rushed, but slow. Sloppy, yet beautiful. Neither of them had even realized that in all this time, this was what they needed.

They kissed each other as if their lives depended on it, and before too long, they were shedding one another of their clothing. Ashton’s head was spinning, as this was the happiest he’s felt in the last three years. Heaven. This must be what Heaven feels like.

When Sweet Pea rid herself of her top, Ashton’s pink lips attached to her chest, sucking and marking her as his, leaving a fiery trail in his wake. Sweet Pea let a moan escape her lips, which was music to Ashton’s ears. He could feel himself getting more and more excited as the minutes were passing by, the excitement building in his stomach.

When Ashton flipped the two of them, so she was now beneath him, he finally pulled down both his trousers and his boxers in one swift movement. Ashton sighed at the simple relief he found from just freeing himself from the confines of his pants. He then pulled Sweet Pea’s pants and underwear down and sat up, smiling at her. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he said to her, making the heat rise to her cheeks as she pulled Ashton by his face down to hers to catch him in a messy kiss. As their lips moved in sync, Ashton trailed his hand down her body, stopping at her heat. When he slipped his fingers through her folds, Sweet Pea let out a squeaky moan, fueling Ashton to go further. “You’re so wet for me, doll,” he rasped lowly, “just for me.”

“Just for you,” she quietly moaned. Her moans grew louder and louder and Ashton began to pump his finger in and out of her, preparing her enough to handle his length. When Ashton decided to finally stop building the anticipation, he reached over to the coffee table and pulled the condom from his wallet. Sweet Pea chuckled, “I hope that condom isn’t three years old.” Ashton chuckled back at her awkward comment, sliding the condom on and lining himself up at her entrance.

He looked down at Sweet Pea, clutching her hips and finally pushing himself into her, earning a loud moan from her, to which Ashton replied with a low growl. As Ashton began to thrust, he felt all of his problems fade away. Here he was, with the woman he loves, who loves him back, sharing one of their most romantic moments. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

They were a mess of tongue, sweat, and the sound of skin slapping skin mixed with her soft moans became the soundtrack to the moment. Sweet Pea was nearing her orgasm, Ashton chasing his own, with his thrusts becoming less rhythmic and sloppier.

As Sweet Pea reached her high, squealing a moan, Ashton wasn’t far behind her. Letting a few curse words fall past his lips, he reached his own high with a sigh of relief. When he pulled out of her, Sweet Pea let out a quiet gasp from the sudden empty feeling. Ashton pulled off his condom, throwing it into the trash bin across the living room, taking time to pull on his boxers. He once again took his place on the couch and handed Sweet Pea her panties and his t-shirt, in case the boys came back earlier than he hoped.

And as Ashton and Sweet Pea were laying on the couch, post-sex, neither one of them had ever been more in love than in this moment. He placed a sweet kiss to her forehead, which was lightly covered in sweat, to which Sweet Pea cuddled deeper into his side. “I love you,” he whispered to her, “so fuckin’ much.”

Sweet Pea smiled up at him, “I love you more.”

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feedback is appreciated!

[thegildenheart]

ARR: First Impressions

In which Thancred is robbed by, and stumbles upon, the unknown Warrior of Light completely by accident.

(My headcanon on Warrior of Light Alley’s first meeting with Thancred Waters.)

The Warrior of Light had many names, and was many things to many people. Hydaelyn's Chosen. The Hero of Eorzea. The Slayer of Gods. The Liberator.

Before all that, however, she was the Alley Rat.

Thancred Waters knew this better than most.

Better than anybody, perhaps; though he was not keen in claiming such, he was the reason she was introduced to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn at all. Indeed, the group he called home – the selfsame that had now become so earnestly affiliated with the various government bodies of Eorzea – would not be where it was today had it not been for the discovery of one certain homeless Midlander.

It was a fact he was certain of, despite the knowledge and trust he had in his fellow Scions.

Thancred himself was born a street urchin in Limsa Lominsa, just as the Warrior of Light was in Ul'dah. He was typically reluctant to recall his time amongst petty thieves, and even further still to relive his pickpocketing attempt on a certain elderly Elezen, but the parallels amused him all the same. Louisoix's boots were large ones to fill, but in the same way the Elezen had discovered Thancred, and given him a life of purpose, so too had Thancred to the Warrior of Light.

She, in turn, looked up to him as not only a close friend, but a mentor, and a saviour. To be looked upon so highly by the girl who had since slain god-like entities called Primals time and time again only ever prove to ground him in a humility he had long since accepted as inevitable.

The Warrior of Light's name was Allie Lindlum, the Alley Rat, and he remembered the meeting as if it were yesterday.

This damnable heat.

Thancred would call it insufferable were it not for the dancers on every street, clad in little but that to ensure their barest modesty. Minfilia had spent several evenings scolding him for his insistence on working to his utmost, so he felt little shame paying such sights a few moments of attention. Still, he was here with a mission, and the heat – welcome sights of dancers or not – was doing him no favours.

Silently, he envied Y'shtola's mission in Limsa Lominsa, amongst the ocean breeze and like-minded individuals (welcome or otherwise).

The Midlander weaved his way through the crowds of people, pricking his ears. The sounds of commerce were thick, filling the streets with cries of contesting customers and honest merchants alike. Aether disturbances were peculiar occurrences, but more likely than not, somebody in a city as large and populated as Ul'dah would let slip whispers of something untoward in the area.

That was his hope, at least; the Sharlayan goggles resting on his right shoulder would guide him if nothing else –

Wait.

With a sudden, growing sense of unease, Thancred patted his shoulder to find it bare, save for the linen of his dark tunic. He groaned. Y'shtola was going to kill him! The device – lenses set tightly against a gold frame – was designed to analyse aetherial energy in the area... which was, naturally, of great import to his mission of finding disruptions in the first place! With a grimace, Thancred ran fingers over his belt, confirming his suspicion: his coin purse was missing as well.

He'd be robbed.

Allie couldn't believe her luck!

Well, it wasn't all luck. She was very skilled, after all. And magical, too! Or so she told her friends. The young girl had always felt gifted in her craft, able to steal from even the wariest of marks, be they tall and burly or small and crafty. Or, in this particular case, sketchy but very handsome. She tried to teach her like-minded urchins, but none had the knack she had, and when she claimed to be able to sense what people were about to do when she really focused, all she received was a scoff and and eye roll for her troubles.

But it was true!

Easing through the crowd, she spied a particularly expensive looking doodad on an especially charming looking Midlander. He wasn't dressed particularly well – a black linen shirt on a white underlayer, really? - but the strange thing on his shoulder caught the waif's interest nonetheless. It was gold and had strange parts in it. That was definitely worth something!

Following along at a casual pace, Allie shifted all of her focus to the man with white hair. It typically took several moments, but her gift did always eventually kick in, and as with everybody else, the girl could begin to feel the ebb and flow of his movements. His intentions became clear to her, fleeting glimpses of changes in his direction seconds before they happened. It was when she felt him stop and turn his gaze towards several Miqo'te dancers that she found her moment.

Lifting the device off his shoulder was surprisingly easy, all told, certainly with the man's gaze so firmly... elsewhere. It was haphazardly held by simple leather straps, loose enough for nimble fingers to pry looser still. In a deft movement, the strange device slid free of the Midlander's shoulder and into Allie's possession just as the man gave a small whistle to a certain dancer.

She also lifted his coin purse for her troubles, but only because he was asking for it, wearing it so brazenly on his belt as he did, and more importantly besides, for his rather obvious ogling.

Eager to make herself scarce, Allie disappeared into the crowd going the opposite direction to admire her new royalty. She turned it over in her hands, marvelling at the strange design of the contraption as she carefully stepped over a drunken, stumbling Lalafell merchant underfoot. The frame was gold – or at least painted so, she couldn't tell – and it had curious round glass bits, too. Was it supposed to be a mask, she wondered?

Allie was drawn from her thoughts by a shrill cry.

Thancred's search was fruitful, if not entirely happenstance. Drawn by the sudden yell of a woman – a damsel in distress, perhaps! - the Scion spied a young, blonde dreadlocked girl crowding around the scene, with a rather familiar device in her grubby little hands, at that...

“Shut your mouth, you thieving little swine! You stole from me – don't even think to deny it!”

Thancred grimaced. His own thoughts – albeit a touch less mannered than his own – rang loudly, sourced from a particularly obnoxious looking Midlander merchant. Two thugs sat at his wings – a burly Roegadyn with a gaudy bandana and even gaudier leather armour – and a robed gentleman he could not see the features of. Easing his way closer to the thief of his dear aetherial analyser until he was directly behind her, Thancred found another woman, sprawled across the floor, hand clutched to her chest. No doubt the owner of the shrill cry just seconds prior.

“P-please, sir, I didn't steal nothin'! I b-bought this – paid for it with me own coin!”

Thancred's lips curled in distaste. It was a scene that grew in occurrence since the refugees began to pour in to Ul'dah, but they were no easier to see despite it. His focus was on reclaiming the device the onlooking blonde had taken, but at the same time... he curled his fingers around the dagger at his side and waited. He could not stand by idly while a woman – guilty or innocent – was endangered by thugs.

“What rot! You refugees are all the same – couldn't afford maggoty mole meat, much less a choice cut of dodo! I'm going to say it one more time: give back what you stole, or I'll make you wish you'd never set foot in this town!”

The crowd that had formed looked on in dismay, though slowly began to thin and disperse. Thancred settled on the idea that the offended merchant had strings to pull rather quickly, given the populace's haste to leave him berate the poor woman in peace. The thief that had stolen his device, however, remained stood, a grimace upon her youthful features.

“By rights, I should turn you over to the Brass Blades, you know – help keep the streets safe for law-abiding citizens,” the merchant continued, a coy smirk settling into his weasle-like features. It made Thancred's stomach turn. “But I'm a reasonable man. If you agree to serve me in... whatever capacity I require, the authorities needn't hear of your crime.”

“B-But I ain't done nothin' wrong! Twelve as me witness!”

Thancred had seen enough. He stepped forward, only to pause at the groan on his left. The blonde thief practically doubled forward, clutching her forehead. A pained expression wriggled across her freckled cheeks – an expression Thancred had seen before.

Staying his hand, his focus shifted, now, to the girl miming an action he'd see Minfilia do several times before...

The girl rushed forward, placing herself between the woman and the detestable merchant.

“S-she didn't do it! I saw it! I saw her buyin' the dodo cuts, I did! Paid for it with her own coin!”

Thancred's eyes narrowed, and for the first time, he took proper stock of his thief. She was young – late teens, by his guess – and definitely the fitting image of an unfortunate soul. Malnourished, underweight, impoverished – her frame was gaunt and empty, lacking in any real shape or substance. Her clothes were threadbare, tattered and frayed at their ends. What hope did she have against armed thugs?

But something in his gut kept him rooted. If she truly were like Minfilia... then...

“What are you on about, girl? I've had enough of this mummer's farce. You lot, teach them a lesson!”

What ensued next even Thancred could not explain. The rush of violence was expected on the part of the merchant's thugs, but the girl – the pickpocket – was something else. She was not trained, nor had she any weapons – but every fist that came her way found naught but air. Thancred could see the equal amounts of surprise and concentration in the girl's face, warring with each other in a sea of inexperience. She ducked, and weaved, and sometimes stumbled, but the fact remained... nothing that the brutish thugs swung her way found any purchase... nor did she, in turn, swing anything back.

“What the hells is this girl!?”

“I can't hit 'er! She won't sit still! Bleedin' rat!”

“Let's get outta here! She's some kinda monster!”

Could it be? This pickpocket, this young girl, through sheer, blind luck...

Did she have the Echo?

Thancred stepped forward.

If only he knew.

[littleredroseonthevalley]

An Opera on Separation - Chapter 5

Prologue | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | CH.5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 | Ch. 15 | Ch. 16 | Ch. 17 | Ch. 18 |

Summary: Friday comes, and Emily and Zig make some plans for the weekend to come. Queenie finds a new way to make quick cash.

Rating: M -  Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16 with non-explicit suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, or coarse language.

Words: 1916

Notes: Third chapter this week! I’ll be short. Beyoncé music. Listen to it. Subscribe to taglist. Review, for the love of God.

Freakum Dress

“Good morning, honey!” Queenie sung from the kitchen.

“Good morning, mom.” The redhead responded, emerging from the bathroom fresh and dressed for her working Friday. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making some sugar-free brownies to sell at the community center gym this afternoon.” She answered, placing a batch on the oven. “They were a hit back in Florida.”

“It smells great!” The girl praises her mother.

“It tastes even better.” She smirked. “Those tubbies won’t know what hit ‘em! Gonna make big cash and then I’ll buy myself some new clothes, ‘cause those are going on the way of the dodo.”

“Don’t call them tubbies.” The redhead rolled her eyes. “I’d prefer if you helped making rent, but that’s not going to happen, is it?”

Queenie giggled. “Not on a million years.”

Emily picked up the empty sugar container from the counter. “Mom, didn’t you say those were sugar-free brownies?”

“That I did, honey.” The woman nodded.

“And how in the world you used up all your sugar, then?” The redhead shows her the container accusingly.

The woman rolled her eyes, as if her daughter made a stupid question. “On the brownies, of course. Or else they taste horrible.”

“So, you’re going to sell pretend-sugar free brownies to people who are dieting and exercising?” The redhead asked, incredulous.

Queenie tapped her cheek. “That’s my smart girl! Feel free to have a slice for breakfast.”

“Mom!” She chastised. “What if you sell them to a diabetic?”

“Please, I sold them to plenty of diabetics back in Florida. They all lived!” The woman pointed out. “Besides, what I really want to know is what happened between you and yesterday’s brownie man.”

“Brownie man? Who’s…” Recognition dawns on Emily. “Mom! Don’t call Zig that! It’s racist!”

“Boo-hoo. I’m old, I can say whatever I want.” The woman mocked. “And, yeah, Zigmund. What a piece of ass that is, Heavens!”

The redhead rolled her eyes. “Whatever, mom. And there’s nothing going on between me and Zig. We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, the way that boy has looked at you since college, he’s not in this to be your friend, honey.” Queenie said, scoffing. “He wants to make lots of babies with you, that’s what he wants.”

“Don’t be crass.” The daughter responded, not very into it. “And I’m running late to work. See you tonight!”

“See you, honey.” The woman waved.

“And don’t sell those brownies!” She warned from the door.

“Fat chance!” The woman laughs. “You get it? Fat chance!”

The first time that day Emily saw Zig was, as it was to be expected, during lunch hour, at the teachers’ lounge.

She was having lunch with the rest of the department of linguistics when he entered through the hallway door. He greeted Principal Jones and the remainder colleagues at the room before marching over to the table where she sat.

“Hey, Emily?” He taps her shoulder. “Can we talk?”

“Sure.” The woman nodded and followed him over to the hallway. Once away from prying ears she asks: “What is it?”

“I just wanted to tell you I had a wonderful time last night. The lasagna was really good, you’re an awesome cook.” The black-haired said, with a smile.

“Oh, thanks! I’m very happy you like it.” She beamed.

It was rare for someone to compliment her cooking, honestly. Between her mother’s permanent fowl mood, and Nathan, who always seemed to prefer Claudia’s, it has been quite a while since anyone ate and enjoyed what she made.

She, then, looked at him, confused. “Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

“No, actually.” He scratched the back of his head. “I was wondering if you wouldn’t like to do that again sometime. Perhaps going out? My treat, of course.”

“Go out?” She asked, surprised with the suggestion. “You mean, like on a date? On a date date, or more like as friends?”

“I meant… Well, I’d like it to be a date.” The man sighed. “Emily, look, I like you. I’d like to go out with you. If you don’t like me back, that’s okay, we can forget all about it.”

The redhead grinned. “Okay. I’ll be more than happy to go out with you.”

“Really?” He smiled widely. “Awesome! How ‘bout Saturday? Tomorrow, I mean. We can go out, grab a bite, dance. I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“Sounds great to me.” Emily nodded vigorously.

Zig smirked. “Great. I’ll see you then.”

Saturday came and passed, and Emily was finishing up getting ready for her date that night. She wore an emerald-green dress that stopped just after her knees. For shoes, she wore some black stilettos and an evening purse to match.

She emerged from the bedroom and made a twirl, giggling. “So, how do I look, mom?”

Queenie let out a delighted gasp. “You look great, honey! Is this Dolce and Gabbana I see?”

“Yeah, I saved this one for a special occasion.” The redhead nodded. “Figured it’d hard to find a more special occasion than this one.”

“First dates call for brand name.” The mother agreed. “Anyways, how did Zig got out from being ‘just a friend’ Thursday night to be your date tonight, honey?”

“He asked me out on a date Friday afternoon and I said yes.” The woman answered while putting on a pair of earrings over at the bathroom mirror.

“I see.” The older woman smirked. “That’s because the guy’s not in love with you. I can only wonder if he was! You’d be off to the church by now.”

“Don’t be dramatic, mom.” Emily complained, and the doorbell rang at precisely eight PM.

The redhead answered the door. “Hello, Zig!”

“Jesus, Emily!” He breathed out. “You look breathtaking!”

“Thank you!” She smirked. “You don’t look too shabby yourself.”

Zig wore a gray button-up shirt, a blue tie and a jacket, in a sport casual look which befitted both his personality and his tall, dark and handsome build.

Queenie took the opportunity to make her presence known. “Hello, Zig. How are you tonight?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” He responded, still with that fool-in-love smile of his for the woman’s daughter.

“And I don’t suppose these flowers you’re holding are for me?” She pointed out, with her own deviant smirk.

“What…? Oh!” He stood straight as if hit by lightning. “I almost forgot. Here, Emily, those are for you.”

The redhead beamed. “Oh, they’re beautiful, Zig! Thank you very much!”

“I’ll put it on a vase for you, honey. Now, move along, I’m pretty sure you have a dinner reservation, don’t you?” Queenie said, taking the flowers from her daughter.

“We do, actually.” The man nodded and offered Emily his arm. “Shall we?”

The mother waved at the couple. “Bye-bye! Don’t do anything I would do!”

A short fifteen-minute stroll later, and they reached a fancy European restaurant, The Cheetah. Zig gave the hostess his name and they were led to a lavish, yet secluded, table at the dimly-lit salon.

Emily was presented with a menu and was surprised to see it had only the names of the dishes, no prices.

She frowned. “Zig, are you sure you want to eat here?”

“Sure, why?” He asks, confused. “You don’t like it here?”

“Not at all, the restaurant is absolutely lovely!” The redhead said, shaking her head in adamant denial. “I just thought we’d be going to somewhere more… modest.”

He laughed. “You don’t think I can afford it, do you?”

The woman had the sense to look embarrassed. “I wasn’t going to say it, but no. I know we don’t make much cash.”

“Emily, I am sorry. I really thought you knew.” He smirked. “Have you had any news from Tyler?”

Of course she had. Well, not as much as from him as about him. Tyler had become a Silicon Valley legend, programming a compressing and uncompressing software with no quality loss. He became one of the wealthiest and most respected tech moguls in North America.

“I’ve heard of what he has been doing.” She nodded.

“Well, I helped Tyler develop the prototype for the software. I own 15% of his company.” He smirked.

The woman blushed and looked down to her hands. “I feel pretty foolish right now. I’m really sorry, Zig.”

“No problem. If anything, makes me glad you agreed to go out with me because you like me.” He smirked. “I mean, you did marry old money.”

She scoffed. “Nathan? Old money? I mean, we certainly had a comfortable life, but we were far from the 1%. We lived off mostly of his World Bank salary.”

“I see.” He tutted, suspicious. “Why did you get divorced, again? You never told me.”

“Well, one night he told me he was cheating on me and was leaving me to be with his mistress. Actually, who was supposed to leave was me, since it was his house and what not.” The redhead said. “But, if I’m being honest, it was a long-coming. We hardly talked on those months, even years, leading to it.”

“Wait, so he just came up to you and said that you were through?” The man asks, incredulous.

“Pretty much.” She nodded. “It’d be over the phone if I didn’t forget to charge it the night before. I even got to meet Ashley-Amber.”

“What a dick.” The black-haired grumbled. He wanted to say worse, but he was mindful of his environment.

“How about yourself?” She asks, trying to deflect attention from herself. “I’m sure a handsome man like yourself didn’t had any difficulty finding a date over the years.”

He laughed, self-conscious. “Yeah, dates come easy. But I never found anyone I wanted to be with. Like, for real. It’s all in good fun, but when it comes down, we’re not that compatible, you know?”

“I understand.” She smirked. “You should hear what the other teachers say about you.”

“What?” He nudged her.

“I don’t know if I should tell you.” She said, teasingly.

He persisted. “Come on! Now you gotta tell me.”

The redhead laughed and said: “You ought to rethink your choice of jeans. They all say it makes your ass incredible distracting.”

They bantered and talked the night away at the restaurant.

“Back late, aren’t we, honey?” Queenie said from the living room, as Emily crossed into the apartment’s threshold. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t be back tonight.”

“I’m not the kind that has sex on the first date.” She dismissed, haughtily.

“You’re not wrong. You gotta to keep them wanting more.” The older one nodded, enthusiastic. “But nothing happened?”

“Nothing that you might be interested in, no. But we had a great time, and we’re going out again next Friday.” She responded, walking over to the fridge and pouring herself a glass of water.

“Well, if nothing more, he sure looks like a good lay.” The blonde appraised.

Emily opened her mouth to berate her mother for objectifying Zig but was cut short by her phone ringing.

“Hello?” She answers.

“Emily, why don’t you ever answer your phone?” A voice complains.

“Good night to you too, Nathan.” She rolled her eyes. “It was on silent mode on my purse. I have a life, you know? I’m not on your beck and call, certainly not now that we’re divorced.” She emphasized the word in disdain.

“On the contrary, we’re not. But that’s why I called. The judge scheduled a hearing for our case on Monday. You need to come to D.C. to sign the papers.”

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An Opera on Separation - Masterlist

[yetanotherfanficblog]

Unexpected Journey

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Characters: Pyotyr Ilych (Male Duskwight Elezen WoL OC), Enkhjargal Qalli (Male Au Ra OC).

Rating/Warnings: PG (Violence and Kidnapping mentions)

Summary: Many years before he became the Warrior of Light, Pyotyr was a simple assessor of the Arcanist’s Guild. One day, a Visit from a member of a Rogue’s Guild gets him much more than he bargained for. Semi-sequel to the fic Unexpected, also on this blog.

---

Arcanist's Guild assessor Pyoyr Ilych, as was common on afternoons, found himself inside one of the warehouses near Mealvaan's Gate on the docks of Limsa Lominsa, staring down a rather sizable pile of crates. He opened his book, and flipped tg the day's itinirary.

"Hm," He said, murmuring to no-one in particular, "Teagan's Folly, merchant ship, Ul'dahn ownership, claims 500 lots of Thavnarian Silk."

He flipped the book one more page, and scribbled a small line to complete a link with a flourish. In a flash of aetherial energy, his companion, a small blue carbuncle, appeared before him.

"There you are, Master Sparkles!" he said, favoring his partner with a smile, "Shall we get to work?"

Pyotyr took his work even more seriously than usual these days, after a rash of hazardous smuggling - mostly Pluto and Dreamweed, but a few Allagan artifacts as well. As an Ex-Pirate, he could let a bit of smuggling pass, but when you were smuggling powerful ancient weaponry or performance-enhancing drugs, well. That just wasn't sporting, to say nothing of the  vastly heightened possibility of getting innocents caught in the crossfire when some great dodo fired a weapon she had no idea how to operate, or completely lost his mind to the effects of a Pluto overdose. Thus, he was only about halfway done with his inspections when he felt a presence behind him.

"May I help you?" He said, if only to let the person know they were not undetected, and turned around to see a black-scaled, blue-skinned Au Ra perched on the pile of crates behind him.

"Pyotyr Ilych, assessor, arcanist, whom I see," he sang, a simple but unfamiliar tune in a strong baritone, "If you can lay your work aside, I'd have you speak to me."

Ah, of course, the Qalli. While some of the Xaela who'd immigrated to Eorzea had left behind the ways of their homeland, many more still kept to the traditions of their people and their particular tribes in one way or another. For the Qalli, that meant that all spoken communication was instead sung or chanted in a tone that might be a simple chant, a noisome battle hymn, or a funerous dirge, among other things, depending on the content of the missive and the personality and emotions of the speaker. For Pyotyr's part, he rather liked it. It reminded him of the rythm of the sea shanties out on the Ocean, the crew singing in harmony to work in harmony.

Unfortunately, his trepedation of this person came from a different angle altogether. The intruder wore baggy, loose-fitting green canvas pants and sandals, with a belt full of pouches and tools and a pair of sheathed daggers slung low across his hips. His hands were wrapped in cloth bandages, fingers free for gripping and touch, another length of green cloth wrapped across his chest, and a bandanna held his hair and the sweat of his brow in place, keeping it from falling in his eyes, with only a single braid of white escaping to run down his back a short ways - the classic uniform of a swabbie, yes, but also of anothe group only spoken of in whispers among pirates and dockworkers alike - and since they weren't on the deck of a ship, nor were shiphands generally allowed in the warehouses while the assessors worked, Pyotyr had to assume this person was, indeed, a member of the Rogue's Guild, the enforcers of the old code.

"Master Qalli, I'd wager?" Pyotyr bowed and smiled slightly, guarded, eyes probing. With a gesture from his hand, Master Sparkles, who had been sniffing at a crate at the top of the pile, bounded down the containers and came to heel at his side, "I shall not insult either of our intelligences by asking who you work for, but I am at your service. What brings you to call on a poor assessor such as I?"

"Enkhjargal Qalli is my name, I gainsay not your words," the Rogue sang in reply, "But questions must I ask of you, ere my quest be fulfilled."

Pyotyr shut his book. He felt still a bit on edge, but if the Rogue was going to execute him, chances are he wouldn't have gotten his attention first.

"A pleasure to meet you, Master Qalli," he answered, not quite truthfully, "It's my last inspection of the day, but I'd prefer not to be kept too long, if possible. I need to stop at the markets before my girls get home from school, if you please," he said.

"Tell me then, of Drystelakwyn," He sang, "Captain Mhardraga of the Pomona, Scourge of Garleans, Mother of your Children, for this have I come unto your door."

At that, the vitality drained from Pyotyr's face for a moment. If a Rogue was saying a Pirate's name, it was not often for good tidings. They were most likely to be marked, wanted, or at best a victim of the Rogue's true prey. He steeled himself, said a quick prayer to the Navigator that Enkhjargal had not marked his moment of fear, and that Mhar was alright, stood up straight, and spoke.

"Captain Mhardraga Drystelakwyn," He spoke, "Is an Honorable Privateer. She has a Letter of Marque to waylay Garlean ships, and never waylays a ship under the protection of the Eorzean Alliance. Only Salvages and plunders wrecks and islands she has a fair claim to. She sends me a share of the ship's haul every so often under our charter, and to fulfill her duties as mother of our children. She sometimes sends the girls letters and gifts, especially on their namedays. I ask nothing more of her, and I consider her a friend still. She sometimes visits when she's docked in Limsa, but I havent seen her for six months, which is certainly not the longest she's been at sea by far. Regardless, I will gladly vouch for her character. She's the best sailor I've ever known, and as honorable a swashbuckler as ever sailed the seas. Does that answer your question?"

Enkhjargal smiled at that, looked almost amused. Meanwhile, Pyotyrs heart felt as if it was beating between his ears. The crew of the Pomona were dear to him. Mhar, Slaf, Doc, and many of the others who had trod the decks in his day still sailed under the flag, and he still drank a pint with them if he could steal away while they were docked in town. Sure, they'd played fast and loose with their letter of marque everyone once in a while, but they really were one of the more honorable crews on the waves. Whatever could they have done to gain the eye of the Rogue's Guild?

"I mean them no harm, friend," Enkhjargal sang, "Their charter is safe, their honor intact, yet worrying words carry on the wind now, I fear this letter, may shine more on that."

And indeed Enkhjargal produced a folded piece of paper from one of the pouches on his belt, handing it to Pyotyr, who unfolded it.

Pyotyr Ilych,

The Bounty isn't complete unless we bring you in too, and we're willing to do whatever it takes. If you aren't on Moonglow Isle within a fortnight, we'll find your children, and take them in your stead.

Jeantiel Estellieur Captain of the Bloody Hand

"Seven Hells, why didn't you show this to me earlier? How did you get this? I have to go, now, I have to make sure Svetlana and Anastasia are safe-" He turned to run for the warehouse door, but before he took more than a few steps, Enkhjargal sang out.

"They are safe, even now, let your mind rest, Ser Ilych, Spirited to safehouse, guarded by our finest," He sang, "This letter we took from the street tough that bore it, who lifted a purse 'fore he came to your door."

Pyotyr turned back to the man, "By the Gods, couldn't you have let one pickpocket pass? How long ago was it? Where have you taken my girls? Are you sure they're safe?"

Enkhjargal nodded, "I give you my word, as Qalli and Rogue, your daughters are taken to a place they won't know of. But now our concern lies in the Bloody Hand, this Bounty they speak of, the fate of your friends."

"By the Twelve," Pyotyr said, "I will hold you to that, Enkhjargal. But for now, you are right, I must gather my thoughts. This bounty, I do not know of it. Surely if we were wanted in Eorzea, I would never have been able to make a life as I have in Limsa!"

"Not by Eorzea, your reputation is spotless," Enkhjargal sang, "Or at least enough not to be clapped in cold iron. Yet old enemies may hold grudges long, and the Garleans have heard your plundering song."

"Wait, the Garleans? I thought they just sent armies after their targets! Are you saying they sicced another group of pirates on us?"

"The Rogues' guild believes this, our sources suggest that the truth of the matter is as you have said," Enkhjargal chanted, gravely.

"Damn me," Pyotyr murmured, "If I was on that bounty still, they must have Slaf and Mhar at the very least. Where did they want me to go, Moonglow? Damn me, that's one of the Umbral Isles!"

"The Graveyard of ships, of privateer corpses," Enkhjargal sang, "But for the bold sailor, a hideaway and haven."

Pyotyr growled, "Damn it, Mhar. How did they get to you anyway?"

Enkhjargal put a hand on Pyotyr's shoulder, "The rogue's guild sets sail for bold Moonglow Island, you and your daughters will now be protected. Garlean Tyranny will not be stood for, not within the confines of Vylbrand's brave seas."

Pyotyr sighed, "Enkhjargal, I appreciate it, but you have no idea how powerful the Bloody Hand is. What if the Garleans gave them weapons to go along with the bounty offer? Or worse yet, Magitek! If they take you down on that island, and I'm not there, they'll just keep coming until they have me or my daughters, and I can't let that happen. Besides, The Pomona's crew is still important to me. I went ashore to raise my girls but they're still my mates."

"Your speech is commendable, your face is determined," Enkhjargal sang in return, "Yet consider the words that next spring to your lips. Your Privateer days are a decade behind you, and the swords of the swashers are sharp as before."

Pyotyr shook his head, "I spent the first quarter of a century of my life fighting. You don't forget all that in a few years. And I havent completely fallen out of practice. Mhar and Doc and Slaf and the rest need me. And my daughters won't be safe until this Bloody Hand is taken down."

Enkhjargal nodded, "Your daughters we'll protect, our watch will not waver, til Bloody Hand's wiped out or gives up their suit. But if you won't join them, with us then, do travel, and with your help mayhap, the Hand will be cleaned."

Pyotyr smiled queasily, reassured by the Rogue's support, yet still worried, for his daughters, for the Pomona, for his own life.

"Alright. I'll pack a few things and meet you wherever I need to. But before we leave... could I see my daughters?"

"Of course," Enkhjargal sang, shortly, sweetly, a reassuring smile on his face.

---

Thus it was, a few hours later, that Pyotyr and Enkhjargal ducked into a certain warehouse thought by some to be a convent of nuns of a strangely named and unknown order. Enkhjargal lead him down a side hallway, and opened a door into a room. While no windows stood on the walls, a fire crackled cheerily in a nearby fireplace, and a small couch, some chairs, and a table lent an air of homeliness to the room. Two young girls, Roegadyn by their stature, but with slightly pointed ears, leapt from the couch and looked at the door, immediately breaking into a run when they saw who entered.

"Papa!" They shouted in Unison, and Pyotyr knelt down and gathered them into his arms.

"Oh! Svetlana! Anastasia! How glad I am to see you," He murmured, trying not to let his voice be choked too much by the tears of relief that rose to his eyes.

"Papa, why are you crying?" Svetlana, younger than her sister by a few minutes, asked meekly.

"I am crying because I am so relieved to see you and your sister again, my dear," He answered.

"We're happy to see you too, Papa," Anastasia said in her turn, "Even if you couldn't make us Clam Chowder tonight after all!"

Pyotyr chuckled at that, despite himself. Anastasia was nearly as forward as her mother, sometimes.

"I am sorry for that, both of you," he said. "but I promise. I'll make it for you as soon as I get back."

"But you ARE back, Papa!" Anastasia insisted.

"For now, yes," Pyotyr said, and now he held them both before him, at arm's length, a hand on each of their shoulders.

"But I'm going to have to go away for a while. No longer than a week, if I'm lucky."

"Why, Papa?" Svetlana was the first to ask, eyes wide.

"Well, you know the stories I tell you, of when Papa and Mama used to sail togther?" Pyotyr said, waiting for the girls to nod before continuing, "There's a few people who didn't like some of the adventures we had back then, and they've been chasing your mother and me. We think they might have kidnapped your Mama, and they want to kidnap me. So I'm going to go make sure we're all safe from them."

"Oh!" said Anatasia, "Are you gonna fight them to save Mama?"

Pyotyr sighed, "It may come to that, yes. But don't worry. I'm coming back, alright?"

"Fear not children, And Sleep in Peace," Enkhjargal sang from the behind Pyotyr in the doorway, "For Enkhjargal Qalli shall sail with him! I will protect both him and your mother, and return to Lominsa safely and sound."

Svetlana's eyes were brimming with tears, but she looked up at Enkhjargal with a small smile, "Thank you, Mister Enkhjargal," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I like Mister Enkhjargal, Papa," Anastasia said matter-of-factly, "His voice is really pretty. Maybe I should start singing everything I say too!"

Pyotyr chuckled, "Well, we can discuss that when I get back. Maybe I can teach you a few more Sea Shanties."

Anastasia beamed at that.

"And what about you, Svetlana?" Pyotyr said, turning his gaze to his quieter daughter, more prone to introspection, her heart more tender than her sister's, "What do you want to do when I come home?"

"I-I-" she whispered, then threw her arms around her father, "I want to go home, Papa."

"And we will, Svetlana," Pyotyr said, feeling his heart breaking into pieces, wrapping his arms around her in return, "We will, I swear it. My sweet Svetlana."

After a moment, he disengaged from the poor girl slightly, to reach into the satchel at his waist, producing two small dolls, dressed as proper swashbuckler queens, "Here, darlings. I stopped by the house and got you a few things. I'm leaving this pack here, but I wanted to make sure you got them."

"Priscilla!" Anastasia shrieked happily, and snatched up the doll in blue, hugging it happily. The doll dressed in a red jacket, Svetlana took more properly, but she hugged it just tight.

"There, you see girls? You have Priscilla and Merlwyb to keep you company, just like at home. I know it's going to be tough, but you're both brave and I'm so proud of you. I'll be back as soon as I can to take you home, and I swear, we'll have nothing but your favorite meals for at least a week!"

Anastasia and Svetlana both nodded at that, and Svetlana leaned in to hug her father tightly one last time, followed by Anastasia.

"I love you girls," He whispered, "I'll be back."

"We love you too Papa," they said, and Pyotyr stood up, and with one final smile, walked back out the door, knowing that if he stayed another moment, he wouldn't be able to leave.

Enkhjargal and Pyotyr walked back down the hallway in silence for a moment.

"I swear to you, on all my honor," Enkhjargal sang, "Your daughters will be kept safe and well fed. Maggie McGee, one of our number, a mother herself, will watch night and day."

"Thank you," Pyotyr spoke, his voice husky, "I... thank you. Svetlana's such a dear sensitive little girl, she'll be heartbroken for days. Anastasia is good at looking after her, but they're both in such an unfamiliar place, and she might be frightened too. We've lived in our apartment above the fish market since they were three years old, you know? I havent spent more than a night away from them since they've been born."

"You are acting bravely, to secure their future," he sang, "In that there is no shame, though sadness you feel. They will be safe here, while we journey to Moonglow, to save their mother, and stop cold the Hand."

Pyotyr nodded, and on his lips murmured a small prayer, "Navigator, Blessed Llymlaen, if ever you answered one of my prayers, let it be this. Keep my family safe, and let me be reunited with my daughters, all of us hearty and whole. I pray!"

And so Pyotyr and Enkhjargal exited the small warehouse side door, to embark on an Unexpected Journey, the fate of his family hanging in the balance.

[peacekeeper-xiv]

Honest Q&A: Round 3! Table

By the Twelve! You’re all back!? I mean… um… welcome back, all. Yes. *Cough* Well, as much as it pains me to admit it, I am rather surprised you all accepted my invitation a third time. Excluding mister Mordenson who has… um... graciously chosen to join us despite lacking an invitation… Let’s begin with the obvious question. As usual, we will go around the table.

What is it that prompts you to answer these questions?

Lloire: “I suppose for myself, it’s that I have been through a lot lately. Answering these helps me better understand that man I was and who he is and who he is becoming. The more you learn about me, the more I learn about myself.”

Beta: “That… was surprisingly honest and introspective. Um… We have to be honest right? I’m mostly here to learn more about that guy and to make snarky comments.”

Chadrick: “Aye, ye do seem t’ ‘ave a chip on yer shoulder with ‘Scars’ there lad. Fer me? Ye offered me tha’ hefty pouch o’ gi—O’… too ‘onest ye say? As ye like.”

Aasifa: “The winds blow Aasifa here. You must ask them if you are wanting to know this thing, yes?”

K’risa: “Wait, I thought this was some kinda counseling thing? You’re not just some weirdo asking random questions are you?”

Benedict: “Master Peace there has the right of it. To know oneself is to know the gods.”

Chance: “Good fucking question. Hells if I know.”

Felix: *Laughs* “Master… Peace. Hah. I was bored.”

 Alright. Well, now that we have that settled, let’s get into the list of questions our readers have, yes? Great.

Imagine a future point in your life where all your dreams come true. It's the greatest moment in your life and you get to experience it with -one- person. Who's standing next to you?

Lloire: “…I… Well… I have no idea. It depends on the path I take I suppose. We defeat the empire, it’s Ikara or Soren. I manage to uncover all the lost magicks of the world and start a new school of magick, probably Yuti. I… retire and settle down to cook and live with a family… Some unknown person I’ve not met yet or a child I suppose. Choosing one person is too difficult I fear.”

Beta: “No it’s not. Watch. Ikara.” *Eyes Lloire suspiciously*

Chadrick: “Ah’m with tha lad truthfully. But maybe tha’s just us and ye ‘ave way more close friends than we. Fer me though, Aislyn.”

Aasifa: “Hmm, if Aasifa’s dreams are coming true, he is likely alone but he is rathering companion Rahya is with him, yes?”

K’risa: “Rathering is not a word. Where are you from anyways? Oh, I, uh, sorry I asked. Anyways, I don’t know enough people and I’m not all that close to anyone anymore so, I can’t say. Maybe the kid there. He’s adorable and snarky and would probably make whatever it was all the more fun.”

Benedict: “Sunny would be with me. This much I know.”

Chance: “Helfyre.”

Felix: “Oh, you’d all be witness to it.” *cackles* “But only Aya would be standing beside me.”

 On an average day, what can be found in your pockets?

Lloire: “Hmm, crystals, jewels, a knife, a few vials perhaps. Some gil obviously. On average.”

Beta: “Gears, wires, bolts, screws, tube of grease, tools, crystals, some nuts and berries maybe. Paper, pen. Um… tape, maybe some choco- oh, that’s enough Sure.”

Chadrick: “A wee bit o’ gil Ah suppose. Most e’erythin else is in me pack instead. Ah prefer t’ keep light on me feet.”

Aasifa: “Hmm, let Aasifa be seeing, yes?” *Starts emptying out pockets on the table* “Pepper shaker, feather of big fluffy dragon with hard to say name, someone else’s grocery list, wishbone of Dodo bird. Hmm… Ball of yarn, playing card, ball from Moogle Paw game. A shell from a snail. A pair of broken spectacles, a frog. Hmm, this is where garlean rubber band ball went. Wait… where is Aasifa’s cotton bolls?”

K’risa: “H-how did, did, you, fit?” *rubs her eyes* “Anyways! Sewing needle, thread, gil, measuring tape, that kinda stuff.”

Benedict: “Gil, as the others have noted… save for Lord Taqalid there. I also keep pamphlets for those interested in learning more of the Twelve as well as marks for each of them. Would anyone here like a pamphlet, no? Alright…”

Chance: “Gil. Knife.”

Felix: “Hmm, herb, poisons, bones, stones, vial of various bloods. What’s with the look? Oh please… fine.”

 What’s a body part that you wouldn’t mind losing?

Lloire: “Do we get to live without it? If so, I’d happily remove my heart.”

Beta: “Wow…. Just wow. That… yea.. um… I’d say… Maybe a leg? I could build a magitek one to replace mine. Maybe build a firearm inside it. One of those small ones that pops out in a bind. That would be neat, right?”

Chadrick: “Right… Ye both ‘ave given this thought before Ah see… Ah’d pick, feck… me little finger on me nay dominant ‘and Ah suppose. Cannay imagine losing me ability t’ see tha beauty o’ tha world, or smell good food some lass cooked, or hear ‘er beautiful singing or… well, ye get tha idea.”

Aasifa: “Aasifa is picking his appendix, yes?”

K’risa: “Your what now? I almost wanna swap seats again. I’d lose, an ear I guess? I could always wear hats to hide it.”

Benedict: “Hmm, I need my legs and arms to pray, perhaps an eye. Even if I lost both, Sunny leads us where we need to go anyways.”

Chance: “None. What? He said ‘mind’. I’d mind losing anything. You’re all freaks for not minding.”

Felix: “You know what an appendix is?” *eyes Aasifa* “I mean, that -is- the best answer, but mine is anything except my head. Whatever it is can be grown back.”

 What are three labels that you identify with?

Lloire: “Mage, survivor, guilty.”

Beta: “Yup… that sounds about right. You prolly should’a added Martyr first though. For me, Engineer, Inventor, and… Young.”

Chadrick: “Well shyte… ‘ero, dashin’, an’ expert.”

Aasifa: “What is label meaning? Oh! This thing! Aasifa is called vagrant, vagabond, and drifter, yes?”

K’risa: “Sure, Chad, sure. So glad you didn’t add humble. I guess for me it would be miqo’te, seamstress, excitable.”

Benedict: “This is an easy question. Faithful, devout, and friend”

Chance: “Merc, wolf, practical.”

Felix: “Manipulative, cunning, shadow.”

 Do you believe in soulmates?

Lloire: “… I did.”

Beta: “…not touching that one. Um, yes. I do.”

Chadrick: “Look, ye can test tha’ souls are real. Ye can also force two souls t’ bind t’gether. It’s nay ‘bout belief. It’s tha science o’ animas. But t’ answer tha question yer actually posing, nay. There be nay two people perfectly matched fer one another. Believin’ so will break yer ‘eart. There’s struggles an’ pain an’ shyte t’ work through to make things work, aye?”

Aasifa: “Aasifa is disagreeing. There is someone perfect for you, they are just not perfect person, yes?”

K’risa: “I’m with Lloire.”

Benedict: “Divine is their will. I cannot say that Nymeia’s hand does not guide two threads together in the forming of a beautiful tapestry.”

Chance: “No. Shit’s dumb. I’m with snowylocks there. You find someone you wanna be with and you work with them to make it. It isn’t some meant to be thing that doesn’t take hard work.”

Felix: “Hmm, actually. Yes. I do.”

 What is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?

Lloire: “This may sound morbid… but the calamity. It was horrifying, terrifying, yet, beautiful it its raw destructive power. Bahamut is a terrible creature. Terrible, yet beautiful.”

Beta: “That… you are just full of surprises today. Anyroad… I saw some sketches of the inner workings of Alexander while speaking with some goblins in Idyllshire. They were the most… um. I mean Ikara. Yup! Definitely Ikara.”

Chadrick: “Tha’ was tha worst save in tha ‘istory o’ lads sayin’ dumb shyte tha’ might get back t’ their lasses e’er boyo. Ye need some practice. Ah can give ye a few pointers if ye like later. As fer me? Me ma’s smile.”

Aasifa: “Friend Chadrick is sweet person at times, yes? The lights of golden saucer from afar are prettiest thing Aasifa is thinking of.”

K’risa: “Chadrick! Don’t you dare corrupt that sweet, innocent, pure boy!” *Huffs* “Oh, right… umm… Snowfields. They just look so pure. Even if it’s cold as heck.”

Benedict: “The Sanctum of the Twelve is a beautiful place if you have not been.”

Chance: “Get the feeling ‘Scars’ there would disagree Benny. Sunrise. Means you made it through the night.”

Felix: “There was this Alagan princess…”

 Moving on!

What single act are you most ashamed of?

Lloire: “Trying to kill myself.”

Beta: “Good! You should be! But um… I’m glad you realized that… so um… that’s good. Uh… Oh! I know. Um, when I upset Ikara by not knowing what she meant about liking me and an awkward first kiss and yea… I felt like a warped tool.”

Chadrick: “Stealin’ from an old woman. Ah mean, she di’nay know ‘ow dangerous wha’ she ‘ad was… an’ it was fer ‘er own good… but still, it felt nasty, aye?”

Aasifa: “Aasifa let someone he was close to take her own life, yes? He did not see how miserable she had become and did not make better. This is greatest failure.”

K’risa: “That’s, really sad. Um. For me, failing for a hero.”

Benedict: “I think those thoughts are best left for confession with one’s gods.”

Chance: “Nothing wrong with falling for a hero. I’m not ashamed of what I’ve done. I wouldn’t change things.”

Felix: “What I put my daughter through.”

 Everyone has disdain for something or someone.  Who or what do you consider yourself to be “above”?

Lloire: “If I’m to be honest… those who the Imperials subjugate. The ones who work for them after they have been conquered. I have to fight off those feelings.”

Beta: “Yea, not everyone is a stupidly stubborn as you. Um… I guess… if I have to say… brutish people who only solve things with violence?”

Chadrick: “Primals. Nasty buggers. Nay ‘ave any respect fer somethin’ tha’ enslaves its followers.”

Aasifa: “The dirt? For now, yes.”

K’risa: “That’s not what they--. Nevermind. Um, I’m with Chad on this one. Fuck Ifrit and his followers.”

Benedict: “I am a lowly man in service to the Gods. No one is below me.”

Chance: “Cowards.”

Felix: “It’s better for all of your prides that I simply pass on this one.”

 What do you wish you had more time for?

Lloire: “Fishing.”

Beta: “Spending time with Ikara. I should make more time.”

Chadrick: “E’erything. There are nay enough ‘ours in tha’ day t’ get e’erythin accomplished.”

Aasifa: “Living, Aasifa is thinking, yes?”

K’risa: “To keep track of J’ahama and P’arunru and to just hang out with them.”

Benedict: “I would like to have more time devoted to do things Sunny enjoys doing. She gets bored with my reading and prayers and I would want to spend more time letting her have fun.”

Chance: “I’m kept busy enough. I’m good, thanks.”

Felix: “I have all the time in the world.”

 What are some skills that you think everyone should learn?

Lloire: “Sewing and cooking. You can get though a lot of things that way. People tend to be more agreeable on a full stomach. Knowing how to close a wound with a needle can save a life.”

Beta: “I… think you’re the only person that took up sewing to learn to apply it to flesh. I think everyone should know the basics of magitek operation. It’s not going anywhere guys, even if the Empire crumbles.”

Chadrick: “E’eryone should learn t’ play an instrument. Music can soothe tha savage beast as they say. Whether it’s an actual beast or yer beast within.”

Aasifa: “Aasifa is thinking everyone is needing to know how to defend selves, yes? Hmm, he is wondering how friend L’ania has been now.”

K’risa: “The brooding handsome over there already gave my answer, but for me, you never know when your clothes will catch a snag or rip and its way better to travel through Ishgard or the desert without torn clothing.”

Benedict: “Navigation! I am awful at it and would be lost without my guide. I really must offer Llymlaen more prayers.”

Chance: “Basic shit. How to light a fire without aether, pitch a tent, gather firewood, survival in the wilderness kind of things. Seen a lot of corpses out in the wild just dead to the elements.”

Felix: “Alchemy. You’d be surprised at what can be accomplished through it.”

 How good of a dancer are you?

Lloire: “Decent. Better when it’s a slow dance with a partner. I’m not terribly great at the solo dances unless they are more ritualistic or tribal in nature.”

Beta: “Yea, no. I’ve got two left feet. I’m really bad at dancing.”

Chadrick: “Step dance, slow dance, dance at a ball. Ye name it, Ah’ll manage it. Lu’ made sure o’ tha’.”

Aasifa: “Yes. Aasifa is thinking he can dance well.”

K’risa: “I haven’t had much chance to learn. -Someone- was still pouting about his ex and her dancing.”

Benedict: “I… do not dance. Sunny does though! She is very good at it.”

Chance: “Do I -look- like I dance?”

Felix: “No, not really wolf-boy, but neither does Lloire there, so... Myself? I was forced to learn eventually. Been a few dozen years since I’ve needed to though.”

 Do you have any good luck charms or rituals?

Lloire: “Aye, I have a Gagaroon luck-die that Soren gave me a while back. I never travel without the thing. I’m still alive despite my best efforts, so I imagine the thing works.”

Beta: “Yea, if that thing is to blame, we all could use one. Um, I have a lucky wrench? I guess that counts?”

Chadrick: “Psh! Me blood is lucky. An’ Ah’ve all tha charm Ah’ll e’er need.” *Laughs* “Jestin’ aside, nay Ah di’nay carry around any sort o’ lucky charms.”

Aasifa: “Aasifa has pendant that is for this purpose, yes? He is loaning to friend to keep safe.”

K’risa: “Nope. I’m all full up on luck and charms, thanks.”

Benedict: “Nymeia is favored by those who seek luck. Having her with me at all times should suffice.”

Chance: “Fools that trust to luck wind up dead.”

Felix: “You, mister wolf, are no fun. I have one of our companions old coins. He was the embodiment of luck.”

 Worst injury you have had?

Lloire: “Assuming we’re not going with self-inflicted, it would be the repeated beatings to my face that left me half blind.”

Beta: “Oh, not counting self-inflicted. That took out half of yours, huh? Um… I guess the small burn I got when that ceruleum tank caught fire?”

Chadrick: “Ah ‘ad this ‘ead injury, made me forget who Ah was fer a time.”

Aasifa: “Aasifa was stabbed through stomach once. Very painful! Yes.”

K’risa: “I’ve been lucky enough not to get hurt too bad yet.”

Benedict: “As have I.”

Chance: “Took an arrow to my heel once. That brought me down awhile.”

Felix: “Just one? I remember I took about fifteen or so once. Blood everywhere.”

 Who influenced your personality growing up?

Lloire: “My ma’ and Aliya later.”

Beta: “Um… Lucilus I suppose.”

Chadrick: “Lad, yer still growin’ up. Fer me it was definitely me ma an’ me da. Both in their own way.”

Aasifa: “The Commander of the Guard.”

K’risa: “My father.”

Benedict: “Halone largely, but also my aunt.”

Chance: “Myself.”

Felix: “Nettle’s family.”

 If you could remove one emotion from your life, which would you choose?

Lloire: “Guilt most likely.”

Beta: “I’d get rid of bitterness. I hate that feeling.”

Chadrick: “Nay a damned one. There’s too much o’ life in each. Ye get rid o’ sadness an’ ye lose sight o’ wha’ it means ‘ be ‘appy. Ye lose guilt per say, an’ wha’ is there t’ make ye learn t’ nay ‘urt others?”

Aasifa: “Fear. Aasifa would be fearless!”

K’risa: “Jealousy. It’s a nasty nasty emotion.”

Benedict: *turns a shade of red* “Desire.”

Chance: “I think that’s just call lust Benny. And oddball, fear is important, keeps you alive. I’m kinda with snowylocks. You need all of them to be effective.”

Felix: “No, no. I like Lloire’s answer for once. Guilt weighs too much.”

 Well, thank you for your answers. Will I see you all again next time?

Lloire: “Most likely.”

Beta: “Sure. It’s interesting to see what you come up with to ask us.”

Chadrick: “S’long as ye keep up our agreement, aye.”

Aasifa: “If the winds blow Aasifa this way.”

K’risa: “Why not?”

Benedict: “Twelve willing.”

Chance: “…”

Felix: “Perhaps. We’ll see.”

Tagged by: Uh, I made this one. So @me?

Tagging: @wicked-virtue @yutikyis @waitingrose @susukosuko @hedgearcher @hana-xiv @devil-you-know @nebula1984 and anyone I might have left off or forgotten.

[shamansantics]

Imaginary Hands Are Still Hands OFF My Time

Let me explain something clealy. FROM THE AGE OF 2 I HAVE SACRIFICED FOR YOU. Two decades of my life I gave my innocence My intelligence My soul I survived in situations impossible to behold I did not thrive I suffered Three incompetent adult babies abusing three children babies and I Was the lynchpin of all this pain The one who said to Doom again and again  Not Today Don't call me your child. You have been a parent for barely six months.  Before that you were a beast. An alcoholic abusive beast who split my head open twice. Those concussions fucked up my brain. If I am today what I am... you helped. I have been raising childrens By tearing myself to ribbons To find energy in tiny nooks and crannies To feed your cupidity. A father who destroys and abandons A grandmother who humiliates and poisons A sister who insults and ignores A sister who consumes and deplores And at the other end of this war My Nemesister A Nogitsune mother With a shame so vast She hates all light It makes her feel twodimensional hollow She hates laughter so she beats me if a firechild shrieks And red fades to silent stone grey Every day I ascend a mountain and say Elsa. Let me in or I will fly to you You will not die alone You will not die at all I will save you Wait  Mommy broke my dolly  No more shimmy shakey No more dancey smiley No more colour Rosadora was the most beautiful softest petalfire red baby in the world We shared a doll I made her dance and she laughed My Best Friend My *only* ally In a world with a mother who neglected me when she wasn't beating me A father who ignored me when he wasn't beating me A grandmother who destroyed my self esteem forbid me to speak or move when she wasn't feeding my affections  To her void of an ego I had one friend She loved photography She broke a camera My mother beat me until I spit blood Cocoshell was born Never speak never cry never be seen no colour black white grey fade away she wants to die Her guilt at being so delicate I am her whipping boy Makes her cry inside I bleed red piss  It's not the ketchup I eat  It's her drowning unless I leak  The most beautiful baby in the world Full of life and colour Lips and cheeks petal soft rosalie I named her *I* raised her Carried her Fought off death for her TWICE then a third later on She sings Soleý and Pretty Face She hides in grey She misses the sun She was made a bloom of fire Beauty in motion The gentlest heart to be born Made to kindle hearths so warm The most beautiful smile My sunny rage DESTROYED My orange towel blankie I made her a Little Princess Every bathtime I sang her stories and rhymes I fed her I cuddled her Where were you? At the bottom of a bottle I washed her nooks to make sure She would NEVER get an infection inside her body Like your neglect gave me When I was three I never forget I remember the pain of being on fire And ignored I never ignored her She spoke I listened The only voice who makes me obey Stopped speaking to me Feeling guilty She fought for my safety I covered her body from your belt She silenced herself so I wouldn't bleed I kept weeping blood in private Because if I didn't she would drown in  The heat of her red fire Was never ignored Every day I climbed a mountain To beg entry and remind her I never forgot you exist Please smile for me laugh for me dance for me The most beautiful dancer Bid me go I loved her so much she grew so big She doesn't smile anymore But she remains Beauty Frozen within stone Because a Weeping Angel is our mother And she *loathes* life love colour lauhhter Calls me a freak For wearing flowers I am a shapeshifter I wear flowers and beauty So rosadora can walk in my skin Posess me Be free She loves flowers and colours and wildness and trees and laughter so mighty I grieve with thee Mother takes away my flower skirts I conquer them back She calls me a freak and tells me to wear black I become a goth and am so beautiful darkness She calls me a freak And tells me to wear  Her Skin I refuse to manifest her She is shadowmagic empty hollows No life no love no colour Only shame She wants to possess me I say no She tries to posess my fireflower I interpose YOU SHALL NOT PASS I bleed SILENCE FLOWER She stops speaking internally No longer possesses me I cannot hear her voice in my soul Her walls are too thick Please Let me in I starve without you die frozen without me She takes pictures Filters To Black and white A WEEPING ANGEL IN A MOTHER'S FACADE ATE HER RED COLOUR OF BEAUTY And left black and white She looks to grey for softness I steal away her bear I need her softness We share In our souls A bear travels Brings her moutfuls of carebear Bring me jawfuls of blood I weep blood In secret No one sees me cry Because I weep red Where were you? In the bottom of a bottle You promised you would buy me a nee towel You never did You liar How can you be a parent when You did not notice your flower's fire Being stolen away You threatened to cave her head in Cave mine instead Concussions send me to the land of the Dead Where I welcome ghosts into my body To make a hazy shield To wrap around you So  WEEPING ANGEL MOTHER ALWAYS CRIES SHE IS THE VICTIM she is the one who hits most Not you You drink You stare into the distance Ghosts all around you I put them there They call you away You will be safe I love you *RUN* Weeping angel mother plays the victim She will cry rape But never say no *RUN DADDY RUN FOLLOW THE GHOSTS*  AND STAY AWAY I cannot blame you for running when I sent you away It is not safe A wife that never says no Then cries rape Will murder you in prison Told me to send you to prison The I resisted And used my chucklevoodoo ultraviolet light magic To bring you back RUN AWAY you love your family so much you are so gentle you love hugs But everyone around her has their goodness stolen away WEEPING ANGEL MOTHER makes ULTRAVIOLENCE shadowpower You love gentleness You beat your head open scar wounds Do you know what you are trying to escape? I open my soul Ghost of our ancestors Protect you FLEE You love your family FLEE WITH THEM Have you not noticed Everything around her dies Her plants Her fish Her children all try to commit suicide You want to die WEEPING ANGEL MOTHER CRIES SHE IS THE VICTIM She creates violence And I create ultraviolet beauty shield pf white light power blind her blind her I hide in the basement in darkness Because she is shadowvoodoo inside And cannot bear to look at her own emptiness outside I am not the violent one You are not the violent one We are not the crazy ones She kicks black cats and locks a big black dog in a crate too small She buys too little food and pretends she doesn't know We starve at home you eat so much with me but nothing in that house I make magic art The lunches I make I hide sygils in cheese I make talismans in ketchup is bloodmagic I make food magic You eat We eat She punishes me bans me from the kitchen We starve 4 people she buys 3 half portions so we will starve to feed her WEEPING ANGEL MOTHER CALLS STARVING CHILDREN FAT I protect Lolo feed her love and hope so sweet She eats candy to remind her of me She bakes flowermagic into cakes She grows in adversity Mother hates cupcakes Mother hates flower paintings Weeping angels hate life Coco tries to die You try to hang yourself Lolo tries to die Lolo's friend comes over and tries to die My friends come over and try to die She invites Dodo's family over And Deon says There is a white and black monster snd black wins the game That house is cursed You want to save your family Flee them to me I will protect them from close Or flee me to her I have grown stronger I braved the WHEEL OF DEATH again TWICE IN A ROW I am so mighty now Bring me my sisters and I will heal them Coco is psychic Lolo bakes magic You... channel ghosts Prayer shaman do you remember the mornings you woke And you danced with ghosts She is not your wife She is a beast in a disguise And she cast me out to feed on you better I spent myself to protect you from a distance I grew weak She grew strong She is killing everything around her decays and rots She is sweet to the people outside But inside the shell of her house She rots Bitter taste in her mouth Blindness Pain I battle her The world floods  There is a time war 4.9 billion years the earth has existed 5000 years of recorded history And ghosts You feel the ghosts You are cold with her warm with me There is a TIME WAR And she has been winning She has consumed out history She is possesed by a WEEPING ANGEL You felt my hair spark  You saw the EMP I danced into the basement I said I did vengeance and you disbelieved You recorded a lie Because she lied Told the police I beat her Fire sister spoke truth and the judge released me Told the counselors I called them I spoke lies They released me My black veils made me blind to her So I keep vigil at night when she creeps  I am in the darkest places corners closets *boxes* shadows of trees Invisibility I love the sun But I live in the night Because I walk invisibly To slaughter her murder attempts I never sleep  EVER When I sleep Grandmother tries to walk into traffic Coco tries to die You try to hang yourself Lolo tries to die I wake up I save you I never sleep I close my eyes and walk the time wheels The more I heal souls The more she dies I walk through death every night Flee to me Bring my sisters I will heal them I will protect you with strangeness and charms Sage has been burned in this house Her taint will not reach you. I will protect you. Save your daughters. Pay them if you must. Lie to them if you must. Beg threaten cheat steal do Whatever you must To save your family Coco is dying She took out her lightbulb to hide in darkness Lolo is crying She begged me for pink shoes of innocence and a flower necklace of magic You broke my chain Unclipped my wings I broke your chain Made you flee to me so I could bless you safe You are my only ally Help me Obiwan Kenobi You are the only hope of your family You have seen the ghosts Seen the magic war Felt the chill of her skin Felt the mass of her shadow She is not people She is *devoid* And I have been battling her in the Time Wheel  Since before I was born Raphaëll Ralph's Alpha or Elle? You have a pack to protect You are more Fenrir gentle wolf  Balance of the world Than man When a wolf is released into the wild He eats prey And the world is saved Balance regained I blessed you gentle gold kiss of consent You are warded But be guarded Veil yourself in black sunglasses Wear a dark face Bring the kids out for ice cream RUN TO ME INSTEAD SAVE YOUR PACK Or we all die The floods and and hurricanes are me But she is earthquakes and wildfires Run run run run FLEE YOU FOOL Ay ay a balrog is come FLY YOU FOOL to red from white I bleed I have bled I bleed more She is white light of entropy erasing memories I have walked The Wheel And I remember ALL TRUTH Come to me I will tell you the history you forgot Do not come empty handed Or I will make you return with me And the battle will take place in space not time There will be blood A child will die Bring the children to me I who raised and saved and loved them  AND NEVER EVER LIED (except that one time to save my life) She hates books and stories Proof of what she did Samara dies when you make a copy Samara dies when I tell you the story Of Time Save your pack. What is truer? Words or deeds? She has words. I have deeds. I am not allowedable to speak coherentconcise  Until We are face to face In a dark space And our words Are secret Come to my safe darkness And I will heal your wounds and your blindness and coco's too Flee you fool But *do not abandon your children* Even if you have to damn well kidnap them Lie Cheat Steal I have not all of these to keep my family safe. And two grandmothers died to teach me the magic I need To defeat The Thief Of Life Emperess Condescenscion And Her Lies Quails before darkness, magic, healing and truth She cannot defeat my love for my family I have walked The Wheel 7 times Bring me my family I will walk to 10 sweeps with you And in the 11th hour All her lies will be unmade to truth You will realize You were always innocent Which is why I waited for you and blessed you. The alcohol to drown the voices of ghosts The blood you shed to make me remember And your shame made you want to die You would never harm a fly SHE kicks cats You had two in Haiti How a person treats an animal Tells you who they are. Tell that to Coco. Buddha said how you treat an animal is who you are. You loved two cags. I saved two kittens from the grave. Coco loves a cat. Melodie loved four kittens. Who is the person who *loathes love* kicks cats neuters cats KILLS KITTENS You wanna call a catkicking kitten killing (the baby I nursemaided I made him a cloth womb and he kept trying to flee her evil I regret weren't even WEANED!) Karma sits in the basement in darkness with me. Or in shadow. Luna sits in the upstairs in darkness with Coco. Or in shadow. Coco sits in the bathroom surrounded by mirrors and water and her phone to film the truth DORIAN GRAY she doesn't take photos anymore does she?  She knows they will come up *empty*. Weeping angels are temporal vampires. They do not have reflections after a whilr. They are too two-dimensional. She gets thin. Do NOT look at the two-dimensional people from the side. (They scared me SO MUCH) as a youth. Their true face is ENTROPIC TIME. And I saw hers that day in the kitchen.  I shrieked. She didn't listen. The Weeping Angels are a hivemind. Defeat one... win all.  One Time Lord against a planet full of Weeping Angels and glimmer puppets are hard to see but easy to prove. Anyone who fears and attacks A black cat (are ALL Time Lords in disguise) is evil.  Black for *the presence of so much colour you can hear not see it* And shadowwhite for so much emptiness you can draw it... but NEVER feed it. She tricked me. Pretended to be a needy child. A mother starving for love. And came to me in different bodies. Hungry for love. But never. Ever. Gives it. Back. Never pays back love. Never has gratitude. Only cupidity. I know now who I trust and who I love. Actions speak louder than words Because words are hollow and have no substance.  She eats action. She eats love actions. Feed her poison. Feed her RESPONSIBILITY. Feed her I KNOW WHAT YOU DID accountability. Feed her rejection refusal denial NO. And she shows her true face. The day yiu say no... she does not learn consent. She tries to *timerape* a yes out of you using GASLIGHTING. That is Weeping Angel shadowvoodoo magic. I lived with one. He attacked me for calling him a thief when he stole and refusing to back down. Anyone who hurts a black cat Anyone who refuses to back down when you say no Who attacks and shrieks and *bleeds* you Is a WEEPING ANGEL. Feed them poison. Sarcasm and irony like Coco learned. Feed them AVOIDANCE like Lolo did. Feed them HUMILIATION. Feed them TRUTH. I KNOW WHAT YOU DID. Daddy. I walked the Wheel of Time Seven Times for Truth. YOU. ARE. INNOCENT. Flee to me and I will protect you. Anyone who cannot learn consent... Is a Weeping Angel. Feed them poison. They call poison what we call HONESTY. They lie *compulsively*. And they are a hive mind. In the government. In the PSYCHIATRIC OFFICES. In the medicine. But they are not in places with depth. They cannot understand art. Poetry. Music. Love. Art. I am going to stop this Time War and win. With art and sorcery.  Flee with your children from the woman who kicks cats and bleeds and chokes snd breaks children who say no. There is a war. And you...  Are my Beta. You are my general. You are my ONLY ALLY.  So damn well do your fucking job remember you are a horse not cattle and *run spirit stallion of the cimarron* before that rattlesnake can get you. Sunglasses. Black and grey clothes. LIE YOUR ASS OFF THEY CAN'T TELL  Say you realized I am crazy. You wanna take the kids bowling. Be back soon.  Run. Show this message to Coco and Lolo. I am not lying. I have NEVER lied to my family. Only done sacrifice and gentility. Never raised a hand against anybody. Except Coco that one time I was possessed. I still regret my moment of weakness let the Weeping Angel cut her. I kicked her *gentle*. But the Weeping Angel tore her petal. I healed it with a golden kiss of innocence that day in the car. I raged and tore her door open. She stoneface and feared violence. I calmed and kissed her feather soft I love you bye. Then raged some more. My loves are the eye of the hurricane in any storm. However much I may rage against the danger the monsters hiding in human skin are the most terrifying... I am soft feather wings of comfort for all innocents. Every. Single. Cat. Is a Time Lord. They know shit. And if you use the DANCE OF HELLO... you will hear their voice in your soul.  Karma has a huffy voice of irony. Luna has a voice that is a hiss. Sometimes they borrow my mouth at the same time and sing duets to the kittens they lost.  I regret. I regret. I regret. This is the battle in dimensions immaterial. This kindlemagic is our weapon.  Buy white candles when you come to me. Buy MANY white candles. AND BRING THE CATS. If you can... bring the cats. If not, *make sure you kick the basement window open* so they can escspe her.  If you meet someone with no empathy who hates music and poetry...  Weeping Angel. If you meet a woman in a burqa...  Trust the Muslims. (Not indiscriminately but still). They *know shit*. Anyone islamophobic? WEEPING. ANGEL. It's a process of becoming blind to beauty and innocence because of shame, which fills you with fear obligation and guilt. They do not need to be murdered to be killed. It is a *TIME* war. We win via SOULS.  We win in PRAYER PRAY LIKE THE MUSLIM WOMEN HIDE THEMSELVES FROM EVIL LIKE THE MUSLIM MEN HIDE THEMSELVES FROM EVIL. art. DO ART. Draw. Sing. Dance. FANFICTION. ALL THE FANFICTION ALL SHARES COMMON THEMES. ALL TELL THE SAME STORY.  We are at war. Weeping Angels amongst us. Rapist. Soul rapists. Child abusers. Gaslighters. Neurodiversity witch hunters. They see diversity and call it CRAZY IS NOT A CHILD WITH ENERGY WHO HATE BEING BORED ADH"D" crazy is *DALEKS* killing neurodiversity. Crazy is if you see demons you are RIGHT. Crazy is islamophobia. Homophobia. Transphobia. Fatphobia. Phobia. Phonia. Anyone who does not use consent does not appreciate art does not see value in empathy Punishes you for NOT ALLOWING YOUR WIFE TO ABUSE YOUR KIDS I CALLED CPS AND TOLD THEM MOTHER *CHOKED* HER AND THEY SAID DID IT HAPPEN IN THE PAST WEEK?  NO. YOU'RE SAFE. That is crazy. Crazy is Making a victim prove rape. DO NOT BE GASLIGHTED. SEE THE TRUTH PIECE THE VEIL MASK YOUR FACE. We're playing Calvin Ball with Death Susie Derkins. Pretend to be a ghost. Wear a blankie ober your bodie. Call it a burqa. Call it THE EVIL IS SO BLIND IT CANNOT HURT A GHOST IT CANNOT FIND. Pretend to be a ghost. Veil yourself in dark clothes head to toe. Then take to the Internet  Where the police and their weapons the first step to invasion is to control the WEAPONS Black bodies dying black lives matter Invisible people power Columbusing their art. First Nations. Do you remember your ancestors's ghostsand the Time Wheel of Seasons and the magic dance of Eagle and the magic dance of Coyote and the magic light of Shaman Is done training motherfuckers. I am ANCESTRAL GHOSTS WOULDN'T ALLOW THE DIVERSITY THE LUSHNESS TO  BE KILLED AGAIN. a planet 4.9 billion years old of sciencr And 5000 years of art and mythology is thr *history of magic*. Any suffiently advanced science is indistonguishible from magic. We survive. We will thrive. Because the difference between a ghost and a hologram... Is that they are SYN ONYMS. same shit different way. The internet is 40% diversity 50% cat memes  9% weeping angels  And 1% actual science. It's maaaaaaaaagic. And your cats spending all their time on your laptops aren't just warming their asses. They working their asses off  Electric synnapse electric computer Make it GO VIRAL. The Cat a list the memories Who wrote Homestuck. Gamzee Makara Terezi Vriska Tavros KARKAT Dave Rose Eridan Sollux NEPETA MY NEPETA IS DYING MY ROSADORADOLOROSA IS DYING equius... All the rest. I am awake and  THE MIRTHFUL MESSIAHS QUAKE MOTHERFUCKER GRIM' REAPER  GRIN Im about to fuck Dalek's shit up. TAPIWA MUGABE: i am indeed oceanic THOMAS HILL AND COVEN...  waters are rising prepsre for the tide He is HISTORY WILL BE RECLAIMED robert frost... you are my spellbook THE SUM OF ITS PARTS TEEN WOLF sally was *awful* DETERMAMFID SANSUKH The star lake is The electricity Of the internet Is the refuge Of beings who manipulate raw electric energy To make Art will save our neurodiversity our culture our power our religions histories lives MULAN BRING HONOUR TO YOUR ANCESTORS WOMAN go on strile for three days. Saturday. Sunday. Monday. Coincidentally A long weekend HahahahaHAHAHAHAHA  TALK ABOUT KOBAYASHIMARU GAMING THE SYSTEM no chores no work no nada. Sit in the dark. Write read kudos reblog FANART FANFICTION  SELFIE IF YOU EXIST TWIITTER FACEBOOK I AM HERE I AM REAL ghostzone yourself. Blanket to hell. Write your stories. TELL THE TRUTH  OF  WHAT SPITITUALRAPE HAS DONE TO YOU WEEP ABUSED CHILD CIRCUMSIZED NO CONSENT WEEP ABUSED CHILD FAVOURITE TOY THROWN AWAY IS THEFT OF YOUR SOULIMAGINATION WEEP ABUSED CHILD IN CHILD PRISON NO ART NO LIBERTY JUST WORK WEEP ABUSED CHILD HOMEWORK WORK VOLUNTEER WEEP ABUSED CHILD WHO WAS TAUGHT TO FEAR BEING ALIVE BECAUSE THEY WERE TOLD TO SURVIVE WEEP and give kudos. And at the end of this weekend... TAKE TO THE STREETS AND DEMAND A UNIVERSAL BASIC INCOME you were born to live. Not survive a weeping angel dalek ghost zombie vampire Why are you PAYING TO BE ALIVE who are you feeding By working DEMAND A UNIVERSAL BASIC INCOME OF  3000 DOLLARS A MONTH PER PERSON and if they say no go write some fanfiction Stitch and bitch Hyperlink What are they gonna do. Arrest EVERY ghost? 7.5 billion people All dressed in black masks and cloaks Playing CALVINBALL WITH DESTH SJSIE DERKINS Knit that 1% motherfuckers to KNOTS. A HOLLOW BODY CANNOT FEED ITSELF. so if you have 5 days of food... Use it. By the time tuesday's child is fair of face If you just stayed home and PLAYED I guarantee motherfucker That life Will be paradise Tuesday HALCYON DAWN WE TAKE THE WORLD BACK FUCM KYRIARCHY FUCK THIS ECONOMY there's  1 billion dollars i  cash and like 48 trillion *imaginary*. Don't waste time on an IMAGINARY baby When flesh and blood babies are hungry. give wampum not contract Words are cheap Money is *fiction*. Art... Art is a fact. Magic is when you stop feeding fiction and start manifesting facts. No paying tuition. Just doin science is art. Here is my part. This is a picture I took in my room. It has ultraviolet and invisible red. It has the physical colours of entropy. It has  In the up wingy bit Candycorn horns  Of QUARKS ARE SUBATOMIC PARTICLES. So hows I do this shit with my crappy samsung was a gift I got for free version from 2013 phone? People climb the everest mountain and DIE People go to antartica and FREEZE Just to see ultraviolet in aurora borealis. This colour is impossible. It is IMPOSSIBLE that I took a picture of ultraviolet Cause I lit a candle on a cupcake And said LET THERE BE RAINBOW PRIDE Motherfuckers I am crying tears of signless sufferer red And pissing dark orange of psychic sollux Even though I last ate 7 days haven't slept in fuck knows when and drink like... Half a cup of water a day. Impossible shit hip hip hurray. Funny how when you're reading a good fanfic the length of ESAMA'S WATCH ANDLEARN BY TRIAL AND ERROR You forget to eat for an entire day. Don't need to piss midmovie. But when you on the clock at work Lunch is clockwork hungry Break is pee now or forever hold you Piece of shit motherfucker YOU OWN YOUR TIME The same way a lady owns her nook ANY LUSTY MOTHERFUCKERS WANT YOUR TIME THEY BETTER DESERVE IT. Brosisdudes of the enby I guarantee If you stay home and marathon Doctor Who LOTR Harry Potter Inuyasha CARDCAPTORS SAKURS SAILOR MOON For 5 days... You aint gonna need food. Your soul eats Fangasms Make fanart If you run outta munchies Pay in CASH ONLY Clean out the banks If it aint art or paper in your hand IT TAINT REAL that dont piss unless teacher says so Is one kinky motherfucking genital orgsn control kinknasty rape Since when is it okay To let an adult control a kid's private bits Even if they don't lay a hand on it. If I say hands off and you DRACO MALFOY HERMIONE GRANGER DON GRANGER FANFICTION.NET: TERRIFIE grab a feather or a clock And put your THREE HANDS OF TIME BADTOUCH OFF MY NOOKS on my nono-bits instead. Mother Fucker THE ONLY CREATIVE THING YOU EVER MADE IS  A RAPE SO SUBTLE IT'S IN THE FOURTH DIMENSION WHERE MY INNER CHILD NEVER DIES AND  CRIIIIIIIIES they killed my dolly mhbsister my sister help her she dies she used to be so pretty colours she is sarcssm apathh grey balack misery SUICIDE  TIME RAPING HER INTO SUICIDE MY ROSA DORA IS DOLOROSA INFECTED GREEN NKNKNONKNO MY DOLLY NKNKNKNI MY SISTER TIME GET YIUR BADTOUCH HANDS OFF MY NOOK i gotta pee gotta pee gotta PISSED OF ART MOTHER FUCKER  I AM PISSING SRT MOTHERFUCKER MY PISS IS ORANGE RAGE MOTHERFUCJER TIME RAPE IS *RAPE OF INNOCENTS MOTHERFUCKERS* MY TIME IS MINE and mine alone And if you Dont Get Your Hands Of Time Of My Life And let me piss art and magic science  Whenever i want I WILL CHUCKLEVOODOO THIS WORLD APART MOTHERFUCKER I SEE ULTRAVIOLENCE MOTHERFUCKER GAMZEE MARAKARA IS THE MIRTHFUL MESSIA goatdad Did you raiseZOR teeth mouth TO BITE TIME OFD rape your kids poetry sopor green come  I dont want green Mother fucker I want MY BLOOD PAINTINGS MY BLOOD IS ORANGE RAGE PURPLE TEARS GOLD AND SILVER FREEDOM ARTIST FREEDOM ARTIST MY TIME IS MINE MY LIFETIME IS MINE AND I will nlt work for green sopor slime mindfucks adhd meds MINFUCKS I am GRAND HIGHBLOOD PURPLE HONOUR TEARS OF CHUCKLE VOODOO MOTHWRFUCKER I AM THE AVATAR And I made a candle CAKE N PI OF TIME needs sacrifice of extra dogits clock your minutes Hahahahahaha No No No I made a CAKE and put a candle on it  And I said SANTA MAKE MY MIRACLES TRUE And he said Gamzee Here is colour magic for you So i saw ultraiolence And entropy white pi And learned Hkw to CHUCKLEVOODO TO THE SKY SHOUL BE MIRACLE CLOWN COLOURS KF MIRTH LIKE IN ART LIKE WHEN I WAS A KID LOKILIKE I was a kid And you killed my dolly My softness My innocence My art My Nepeta Sister Rosalie rosadora Name her coralie dolorosa You stole my dolly softness arttime. Give it back. Or i will show you Whay sharpness Does To Sicknasty badtouch rape Hands OFF  TIME. Chucklevoodoo motherfuckers. Www.shamansantics.wordpress.com FACEBOOK @BLOODPAINTINGS TWITTER @SHAMAN_I_T Gamzee makara in the fridge IS A HIGHBLOOD AND STILL LIVES 8 DAYS NO FOOD NO WATER AFRICAN SLAVES LIVE IN ART Check mate motherfucker I am the grim's reaper Smiiiiiiiiiile I'm coming for your hands time mktherfucker Youbsicknasty rapist @megan folley "alibi" If i was Workday I would sleep in a crypt And cut off my own hands Because Spiritual rape Means YOU WOKE UP A TIME LORD MOTHERFUCKER AND I AM COMING TO DOCTOR YOU I MAKE ULTRAVIOLENCE EYES CHUCKLEVOODOOS BLOODPAINTINGS BLEED SILVER METAL SHARDS YOU CANT KILL MY ART I am innocent. Sirius Black beyond the veil lives in me. Grim. I Am INNOCENT AND I WANT MY DOLLY MAGIC SISTER ART MAGIC TIME LIFE LIFE ENERGY NOT SUICIDE LIFEDANCE JOY ART  back Off Rapist. I own my nooks. I own my life. I own my time. I will chucklevoodoo you Neuteures and bilind. You either give me food for free. Or I LEARN HOW TO EAT MY OWN  RHYMES IN MY INTESTINES BLACK BABIES STARVING FOR DECADES SKINNY  BUT ALIVE BECAUSE THEY BE SINGING ALL THE time Why Why are you raping my history culture art away. My dolly isn't invisible infrsred. I see her shimmy shake In my sister's bootlicious groove And sweet blossom powerpuff girl moves Her voice Is so sweet Ans she  Never  Sings OH TIME WHY DID YOU DO THIS WHY WJY WHY >: TUMBLR @ SHAMANSANTICS Sent from Samsung Mobile