#electric bones??? graves and rain???

[chaoticmalewife]

GAY OLDIES GAY OLDIES GAY OLDIES GAY O-

(i took the images from @/millawanda (twitter) bc i cannot play the game oof)

[envihellbender]

Buried!Mike and Vast!Hezekiah perhapsss

Mike Crew, Avatar of the Buried

Chances of being struck by lightening in the United Kingdom is one in ten million. Out of a hundred lightening strike victims it is probably that ninety would survive. A contradiction in odds, Mike always thought. The amount of bad luck it would require to be struck in the first place, completely independent of the bad luck it would require to die. Is luck like a dice roll? Each one is independent from the other? The probability of double sixes remains the same, does whether you’ll get good or bad luck? Of course, the ninety percent are given some level of disability afterwards, how bad is it? Roll the dice again.

Mike always liked probability and statistics, he’d watch the servants in his household play poker on their breaks, he’d steal his gardener’s Racing Post and pour over the odds for each individual horse. It started when he was struck by lightening, when he felt the sudden, burning shock that took over his entire body and caused his bones to vibrate. The permanent burn marring his appearance. From then the sky was not safe. The air, the rain, the vast infinite void filled Mike with a terror that turned his scorched body to ice.

The odds of lightening to strike twice… astronomically high. And yet, Mike saw it. He saw the very lightening which struck him as a child following him when he was eighteen years old. He knew no one else could see it, and if he tried to tell anyone he’d seem crazy (plus who would care?) But he saw it. He saw a jagged, twisted, fractal ball of electricity and it was chasing him. He needed to be in the ground, close to the dirt and engulfed by what was beneath him. That was what had saved him last time, when it shocked his limbs and threw him into the dirt he managed to crawl under the bushes. He buried himself into the earth until he was found. He safe. Protected by the ground that always called to him, the mother beneath who sang.

It was DIG they saved him the second time, a Leitner he stole. He didn’t care when the old bastard of a shop keeper ran after him, Mike had been fleeing from lightening his entire life. Except now. Ever since he gave himself to the earth, he has been safe from the sky. He uses his new abilities to find treasure beneath the ground, and makes a living as a bookmakers, an illegal gambling ring, casinos, underground fighting rings… Anything that can use stats and cash to draw people in. He collects the money, the treasure, people’s life savings, and whatever else. He buries them in debt, after all - who’d think the lightening struck boy with sharp blue eyes would have good luck?

Hezekiah Wakeley, Avatar of the Vast.

Dearest Nathaniel,

I apologise for leaving so abruptly, it must worry you so. Perhaps you are picturing me drunk, lying in a ditch somewhere waiting for you to come to my rescue. Nothing of the sort has occurred. I have found a new church, a new home, a new place to experience and worship our Lord. I now understand why being a sexton was so painful to me, I am not made to be close to the earth, I am not made to have my feet be permanently on the ground. I am not meant to exist amongst the graves. Perhaps at one time I thought as much, I felt the singing from beneath the paving stones at the entrance of the house of God. Now I know that call was for someone else, that is not the Lord’s plan for me. Perhaps it isn’t God after all, maybe it’s the devil singing a false tune.

Do not fret so much for I am well, you needn’t try to get the detectives and whoever else involved, whilst I may be ‘missing’ in the traditional sense of the word I have never been more ‘found’ that I am at present. Where am I? Well. I am in the stained glass windows of the angels in heaven, I do not speak literally of course. I am alive and well, but I am amongst the clouds, far closer to God than before. Far closer than any priest or sexton at the church. Every single child’s book paints heaven as being in the sky, I remember the adults scoffing at the childish notion but I can now assure you that the naive idea created by the young of the church is in fact the truest depiction of paradise any living mortal man can create.

I have found a new patron, of sorts. A man who has far more effective ways to keep me away from the drink. It does not have the desirable effect when one prefers to reside high in the mountains, it separates me from the Sky Blue. Who is the Sky Blue I’m sure you ask? An angel. A servant of God. The blue majestic blanket above that covers the earth, protecting each one of God’s children. I feel her surrounding me with her adoration with each piercingly cold gust of wind and from the open, infinite space that exists above us. I have many followers here, many mountaineers who are looking for their saviour. I help them, send them on endless journeys of infinite steps to try and find peace, so they never quite reach the top. It is not so different from the Church, is it not? I learned from the best, as they say. The ones who work the hardest, the ones worthy of God’s love will reach the summit. They will join me in our infinite world of ice and air, they will never leave. Never want to leave. Of course, not all deserve such a fate. Ones I do not deem worthy, hikers looking for glory, looking to ruin and destroy the teeth of the earth, they must fall. They must fall and feel the atmosphere swallow them whole.

I have been rambling for quite some time, my friend, and for that I do apologise. I hope you understand now, I hope you understand why I must stay, why I cannot return.

Blessings and love of the Sky Blue to you,

Hezekiah

[puppetmaster13u]

One-Word Prompts

Mostly for DC, DCxDP, or DP, but can be used for any sort of fandom or original world as well. Go wild! (Each day has two prompts to choose from, feel free to skip or use something else if you don't like something!)

Day 01: Enigma | Silence

Day 02: Celebrate | Pet

Day 03: Gods | Ghosts

Day 04: Family | Alone

Day 05: Hope | Courage

Day 06: Wings | Nest

Day 07: Levitate | Melody

Day 08: Spectrum | Overwhelmed

Day 09: Fire | Gun

Day 10: Mystery | Birthday

Day 11: Ice | Heat

Day 12: Night | Day

Day 13: Hurt | Brick

Day 14: Picnic | Shadows

Day 15: Gargoyle | Rain

Day 16: Fangs | Claws

Day 17: Cat | Dog

Day 18: High | Beacon

Day 19: Free | Fault

Day 20: Formula | Smile

Day 21: Sand | Leaf

Day 22: Songbird | Glass

Day 23: Home | Friday

Day 24: Lurk | Charm

Day 25: Reflection | Teeth

Day 26: Witness | Haunt

Day 27: Scar | Rest

Day 28: Drive | Safe

Day 29: Picture | Shatter

Day 30: Wish | Forgive

Day 31: Risky | Invite

Day 32: Trust | Dance

Day 33: Focus | Kiss

Day 34: Neglect | Connection

Day 35: Solitude | Bone

Day 36: Cook | Crystal

Day 37: Stare | Clouds

Day 38: Luck | Wander

Day 39: Mimic | Visit

Day 40: Dig | Blade

Day 41: Radio | Friendly

Day 42: Letter | Glasses

Day 43: Slump | Snack

Day 44: Vault | Candy

Day 45: Wreck | Ancient

Day 46: Sweater | Tarot 

Day 47: Circus | Missing 

Day 48: Quarrel | Dance

Day 49: Hug | Cry

Day 50: Disaster | Fireflies

Day 51: Explosion | Injury

Day 52: Meeting | Stars

Day 53: Invisible | Drift

Day 54: Aura | Mind

Day 55: Worry | Guilt

Day 56: Train | Tranquill 

Day 57: Rescue | Enemy

Day 58: Breathless | Wave

Day 59: Glow | Explore

Day 60: Flashlight | Lightning

Day 61: Portal | Alarm

Day 62: Fantasy | Orbit

Day 63: Blue | Compromised 

Day 64: Grave | Stain

Day 65: Friend | Dreams

Day 66: Exhaustion | Loss

Day 67: Love | Present 

Day 68: Chaos | Glitter

Day 69: Rebel | Camp

Day 70: Empty | Beauty 

Day 71: Book | Doodle

Day 72: Solitude | Prophecy

Day 73: Lie | Treasure

Day 74: Lost | Cold

Day 75: Crime | Cut

Day 76: Sick | Haunt

Day 77: Task | Glory

Day 78: Chain | Machine 

Day 79: Shiver | Outlaw

Day 80: Hospital | Fragile

Day 81: Drink | Fight

Day 82: Stiff | Smoke

Day 83: Green | Blood

Day 84: Faith | Vision

Day 85: Whistle | Fog

Day 86: Hide | Window

Day 87: Breath | Crawl

Day 88: Trap | Armor

Day 89: Antidote | Splinter

Day 90: Race | Piano

Day 91: Border | Electrical 

Day 92: Savor | Phantom

Day 93: Evening | Spell

Day 94: Unknown | Chase

Day 95: Hold | Disconnect

Day 96: War | Fall

Day 97: Party | Blood

Day 98: Thrive | Goodbye

Day 99: Mask | Fear

Day 100: Youth | Journey

Bonus Prompts: Street | Angel | Aftermath | Coffee | Ribbon | Candle | Prepare | Snow | Desperate | Nightmare | School

[unnecessary-feelings]

THROUGH THE GATES OF EDEN LIES A PARADISE PAST BONDS OF TIME WHERE BARRIERS OF AGES CRUMBLE TO THE LIGHT OF MY DESIGN FIGHT BEFORE MY WILL IS DONE AND I WILL STRIKE YOU DOWN WITH FORCE THE PAST AND FUTURE LIVE AS ONE AS EVOLUTION TAKES ITS COURSE NOOOW BEAAR WIITNEEESS FUUUTURE’S PROOGENY THE NEXT FRONTIER OF EVOOLUUTIONN LIIIFFEE GOES OONN AS LESSER BEEEINGS FAAALLLLL STREENGTH OOFF IIRON WILL YOU’LL SEE THAT THE MACHINE BRINGS FORTH A REVOOLUUTION CLOOAAKED IN STEEL THE WHEEL SHALL NOOOTTT YIEEEELD YET THESE FEEBLE SPAWN OF MEN RESIST ME WITH THEIR BONDS TO LESSER SPECIES BUT REGARDLESS TIME’S WILL IS UNBENDING! FUTURE’S CHILDREN HEAR ME SING OF PARADISE WHERE FLESH AND IRON CAN THRIVE WHEN IRRELEVANT INFERIOR ONES DIE ALL MUST LEARN WHAT NATURE’S WILL DECREES STOP THIS NONSENSE CHILDREN LAY YOUR BLADE DOWN AND SEEEEE THE PAIN THAAT THE FUUTURE’S SPAWN WIILL BRING IF I’M NOT SLAIN PALDEA’S BLOOD WILL RAIN FROM THE WOOUNDS A FOOOL WOULD CAAAREELEESSLY TEAR INTO THE BIOMES OF OUR HOME WREAK DESTRUCTION WITH THE FURY OF UNKNOWN ELECTRICITY AND IRON BONE WILL BRING ABOUT OUR REGION’S FINAL HOUR ONLY YOU CAN STAND UP ALL ALONE STAND UP TO A FOOLISH DREAM LONG OVERBLOWN STRIKE ME DOWN SO THAT I MAY ATONE FOR THE ONE WHO SAW TOO LATE THAT VIOLET POWER an obstacle is preventing the time machine from working as intended. activating Paradise Protection Protocol to remove the offending obstacle… WAS KEEPING THE TIME MACHINE RUNNING TRULY ALL THE PROFESSOR CARED ABOUT?! locking all poke balls not registered to Turo’s ID. WAIT, WHAT?! program initializing… gathering Terastal energy… I’M SORRY CHILDREN, THIS IS TOO MUCH FOR YOU… YOU MUST RUN! AI Turo disabled. Paradise Protection Protocol initialized. YOU ARE NOT GETTING IN MY WAY! I SHALL MAKE THIS PARADISE YOUR GRAVE I WILL NOT BE DENIED! BEAR WITNESS TO THE SERPENT’S MIGHT AND FALL INTO AN ENDLESS NIGHT I WILL NOT ALLOW MY DREAM TO CRUMBLE NEATH A CHILD’S THUMB I’LL TEAR APART TEMPORAL SEAMS UNTIL THE GREATEST WORK IS DONE MAAAAGNUM OOPUSS FUUTURE’S LIGHT BEHOLD THE GAUURDIAN OF TIIIME BREACHED MIIRAAAIIIDON I’VE TAMED MY DEATH NOW AAAALLL THAT’S LEFFTT CAARRY OOUT THIS FIINAL FIGHT BEFORE THE FUUTURE ARRIIVES I BESEEEECH BRING FORTH NEW LIFE AND LEETTT IT THRIIIVE STILL THESE FEEBLE SPAWN OF MEN RESIST ME WITH THEIR BONDS TO LESSER SPECIES BUT REGARDLESS TIME’S WILL IS UNBENDING FUTURE’S RULER HEAR ME SING OF PARADISE WHERE ANDROIDS ALL ROAM FREE BLOODSHED LEADS TO PEACE AND HARMONY NOW SLAY THESE OBSTACLES THEY SHALL NOT INTERFERE WITH THE GRAND DESIGN OF TURO I SHALL- HEAAAR THE CRYY OF THE OONEE YOU’VE TRAAAVELED WITH THE ONE WHOSE HEART YOU’VE OPENED IN YOUR SEARCH FOR A TREAASURE YOOU CAN HOOLD DEAR MIIRAIDON HEARS YOUR CRY NOW SET IT LOOSE STOP THE FUTURE AND PROTECT THE RIGHT TO CHOOSE WHICH PATH YOU WILL FORGE THROUGH LIFE’S GRAND SCHEME BATTLE ON MY CHILDREN BATTLE ON WITH NO FEAR ONLY YOU CAN STAND UP ALL ALONE STAND UP TO A FOOLISH DREAM LONG OVERBLOWN STRIKE ME DOWN SO THAT I MAY ATONE FOR THE ONE WHO SAW TOO LATE THAT VIOLET POWER…

[votava-records]

Sadistik x Kno - You Don't Know

From Bring Me Back When The World Is Cured, released March 31, 2022

While sun drenched blood-red hands hug suspects Drum-stretched skin grins back in a mugshot I pray sunshine lights paths of the once lost Mud-pressed steps lie intact by a dug plot Live pay-per-view of the paper cut militia Where they hate to love a winner if you make it out the trenches Flaming arrows came blazing down breaking our defenses But I can’t complain I’m on a plane playing hard to get Watching rain rain wash away, pain and arsenic Walk of shame stayed weighted so I take it all in step Painting counterfeits on my countenance in vain to blend in crowds A mouth without an alphabet can’t shout it from the mountain tips Bed of flowers head of matches catches til I’m left in black Birds of prey may peck in packs, my vertebrates a Jenga stack Peckinpah pecking paws inserting fangs in every hand The purple stained the exit bags and turned the bread to ash But you don’t know Looked up to god but he jumped the shark and left me hell borne Maybe it was a mirage or a facade I fell for Asbestos in the head electric fences left the shell torn I’m spellbound, tell me how you turned the sky to foil now Let’s burn the midnight oil turn the insides gold Learn to live like coal all the ghosts I know Lurking in my home perfect form When the part I cut looked just like red accordion Breath ammonia each step reflects the mental loneliness Babylon tower heart is acid washed catatonic Static thoughts anaconda caws from the albatrosses They build you up before they cast the stones Place you in a grave then they dance upon it casting spells Past lives plastic shells and vampires detach themselves I’m in a world by myself I don’t need your help Look at how the dreams all fell to pieces when you’d secret tell Your shallow ways drowned your deeper self But you don’t know Costumes that are not decor Lost within a foggy world Monsters in the closet doors To talk to them I stomp the floor Morse code more skulls Ossuary’s god-devoid I’m so wary god forbid I live in sin like martyrs were Hundred teeth all carnivore Puppeteers saw my bones One of me there’s lots of them Know why you broke my heart before Dying’s just a part of war Lies can seem too hard to form L’appel Du Vide I call to voids Sometimes I feel like Lobster Boy Soar away so ornate Coronate with sharpened thorns Captive by the schadenfreude Trapped inside the darkest sewers Starving like it’s Yom Kippur Starving like it’s kwashiorkor Drown me like I’m waterboard Get more than what you bargained for Faustian got your soul Down the street don’t cross the road Godless souls don’t count the sheep Know how to sleep in haunted homes You don’t know where darkness forms Supernova stars is born One of me there’s lots of when It rains it starts to pour But you don’t know

[midnightscxre]

Drums of upcoming lightning echoed through the green valley wrapped in darkness, with nothing but stars to provide some light. An eerie sight to most, along with the sound of waking thunder that fills one's bones with terror, mixing with the whistling wind rushing from the west. . . such a sweet serenade and comforting surrounding to the possessed woman. It was not the demon that enjoyed this night blessings, it was the splinters of a human soul that was devoured by the new host, the things that healed her forever tortured spirit. A split second of lost memory -- small feet running though the tall, wet grass, thorns ripping the exposed ankles, tender hands brushing over the branches, but the pain was ignored, blanket of sooty shadows promising shelter, blazing electric arrow shooting through the sky leading the way, frozen drops of rain mending the invisible wounds. . . yes, Clare always heard the call of the dark. Call of those misunderstood, those who are feared but yet. . . experience much worse inferno.

Man's words snapped her from her thought, as the coal black eyelashes fluttered, hourglass shape turning to face him. Blank expression soon gained a grin, not mocking one but honest, accompanied with a blunt answer. " I assure you Elijah, there is no bone you can break, skin you can peel, heart you can pull . . . that can make me feel anything worse. " There she stopped, not explaining what she meant, not adding the needed detail to complete the sentence. Instead, Clare listened to the rest of his. . . offer as it seemed. Fresh wind kissed her ivory cheeks, as she inhaled the aroma of the tall pine trees. Night air was truly stolen from the heavens. What made the emerald greens to capture his was the last of his words. " I have nothing to lose. " Clare said at first, not intending to brush his offer away nor sound hostile. It was simply stating the facts. " When people say they aren't afraid of pain, most of them are lying. You can see how quickly they change their mind when the first blood drop hits the starving ground. But, when you are born into suffering, it becames. . . a routine. " A distant howl, then some music coming from the town, something a mortal could not possibly hear from this distance. Scarlet haired woman absorbed the sight in front of her. How fervently he dug his own grave to save his family. It was...fascinating and, what she never would admit, hear-rending.

" There is something, though. " Finally she spoke, pulling the sleeves of her leather jacket up. Like a tattoo, but made of scars, spilled along her wrist to the elbow. " I do enjoy a good demonic choir but. . ." Turning her arm, a few glowing symbols were exposed under the few strikes of lighting. " Sometimes the screams and growls get old. Sometimes I would like some peace and quiet. And they don't exactly react on ' please shut the fuck up ' and its hard to ignore them when they are inside of you. " A laugh, much more careless that it should be, almost playful, pure. " Point being, the witches have a spell in their dusty books that can help solve my problem. . . so, if I help you, there is my payment. " Clare -- lied. Well, in a way. There was indeed a spell for what she described, but she didn't need it. All she needed was an excuse to offer her help and mask it with something. It was easier to be a bitch with no heart to the world, that much she learned.

Starting to walk, she continued. " But we will have to make a few stops...see, witches bitches kind of made a plan b, you know, if I fail and you came after them even more pissed. " Pointing to the mountains, she continued. " Your sister has a few spells on her, there are as many traps and foot solders as you can imagine so. . . how do you feel about working with werewolves? Heard they can sniff out almost anything..maybe they can find a damn way in that is not cursed. " a small pause. " And also. . . there is still a problem with your brother. If you don't mind me asking, what are you getting from chasing a man who clearly has no respect for your concern?"

There was a change in her and despite his current state of captivity, he watched in fascination as it came over her. She almost looked normal, although he conceded there was no easy way to define such a thing. Her words soon confirmed what he had already thought --- she was under the orders of others. She was their attack dog and they had sent her out with instructions to bare her teeth. He had to wonder just what caliber of villain (if he could call them that, considering what he and his family had done) he was dealing with. Obviously they were powerful enough to rope something such as her into doing their bidding.

And she was rebelling.

Elijah raised his eyebrows as she carefully worked to undo what she had done. He was under no misgivings that anything he had said had led to this reversal. It was her choice, her doing --- her attempts to throw off the yoke of her masters. But given his perilous situation, he would take what he could get.

She soothed the wound that she had created too and he couldn't help but show relief at that. Even as she cut into him with her words instead, because he could deny the truth to what she was saying. He did give (and give and give) and he would continue giving. It was the role that he had assigned himself and he could not turn his back on it now. His family needed him, even if they took far more than he was able to handle on some days.

Elijah stepped free, his mind on his sister and the steps necessary to free her. He watched her retreating form and then quickly moved to step into her path. "Here is where I would have caused you a great deal of pain if I was so inclined," he told her carefully. There was still a part of her that wanted to. He could picture himself ripping into her, causing her pain even if it would cause him pain in the end. He knew where that part of him came from and he fought back against it. He could not let that overcome him. He was better than that (or at least that is what he told himself).

"But I am prepared to show kindness in return. Or at least, a way for you to solidify the position you have decided to pursue. I know what you have done here will cost --- but it needn't cost you dearly. Those witches, the ones who have my sister, the ones who leashed you --- they would be no match for the pair of us."

[tavvattales]

Come Back to Me

GENSHIN IMPACT Character x GN Reader Angst Stories

Characters: Scaramouche

Pairings: Scaramouche x GN Reader

Warnings: 16+ for violence. TW- reader death please PLEASE read at your own risk. You have been warned.

Click below if you're ready to suffer.

As the storms begin picking up, the rain and wind violently whipping at your face soak you to the bone. Your eyes, stinging from the tears that started to fall at the sight before you, glossed over as you struggled to push forward. You seemingly call out towards nothing but a purple hue in the distance, glowing luminously, like a single star in the night sky, "Kunikuzushi! Please. . .do not make me do this!" You plead, your heart shattering with each word, "Please. . .I love you. I don't want to do this. ." You continue, reluctantly unsheathing your blade with a flick.

The purple hue in the distance grew closer with each unwilling footstep of yours. The grip of your sword grows tighter as you finally face your foe, The Balladeer, Scaramouche, your lover. Kunikuzushi's eyes are not the same as you remember, blackening and glazing over with a cruel gaze as he grins wickedly at you. Glancing him up and down, you notice the Delusion had taken a further hold on him than you were expecting.

Like a gloomy vine, the Delusion begins taking up half his face, much to your anguish, "Y/N, it's a shame you can't feel this surge of power. With the Gnosis and my Delusion, I'm indestructible. And yet I see you're prepared to go against me. ." Kunikuzushi says with seething resentment.

"Kuni-" you start

Before you can finish your thought, Kunikuzushi shouts bitterly, "DON'T. Don't you dare use that name. I am The Balladeer, Scaramouche," the bitterness now turning to animosity.

Closing your eyes and taking a deep painful breath, your tears still falling, you finally open them, meeting his indignant eyes, "So that's your choice then. . .I see." Your eyes felt hot, like white-hot daggers. Feeling a surge of remorse at your lost love, you raise your blade, preparing yourself, the rain still lashing the two of you in the face.

Lunging forward with your sword, you attempt to strike down Scaramouche. Still, he swiftly evades your blade with a sinister laugh, "Haha, I truly didn't think you had it in you," he says, feeling a prickling surge of electricity coursing through his veins as he readies an attack. The tips of his fingertips begin generating a purple ball of electricity, launching it towards you with a loud crackle.

Just barely dodging the quick attack, the electricity orb lands mere inches from your feet, causing a ripple to expand on the wet ground, shocking you. You groan from the sudden shock, feeling it buzzing through your body, but that wasn't enough to knock you down. Raising your sword to Scaramouche once more, you finally reply, "That's where you're wrong."

In a brilliant display of swordsmanship, you step forward, swishing your blade viciously. Like a game of cat and mouse, you finally, after what seems like hours, land a cut on his face. Wincing as blood trickles down his cheek, Scaramouche scoffs, blindingly letting another electro orb fly your way, "Oh, my dear, you made a grave error," he laughs, abruptly teleporting behind you as you dodge his ball.

As he strikes you down, for a brief moment, you see him. Kunikuzushi. For a split second, you see him fighting with his Delusion, a look of anguish distorting his face, his once lavender gaze pleading with you. Dropping to one knee, you cough up blood, reminding you of where the two of you now stand, "Hng. . .Kuni- I know you're still in there. . please COME BACK TO ME," you say, not giving up as you wipe the blood from your lips.

Again you see his eyes flicker. Standing up clumsily, your hands now shaking as you struggle to hold your sword, you finally drop it with a mighty clang of metal hitting stone. You extend your arms outwards, begging him to come back to you, "Kuni, please. ." you plead weakly. With every tired ounce of your being, you begin moving closer to him.

With a whack of your hand, Scaramouche grabs you by the throat, "I warned you. ." he says viciously, slamming you to the ground, knocking the wind out of you as his grip on your neck grows tighter.

Seeing your life flash before your eyes, you desperately reach towards his face, stroking his cheek, and with your last breath, you say, "I've always loved you. . ."

As your body grows limp and your eyes become lifeless, Scaramouche releases his grip, a painful surge shooting up his body as the last ounce of Kunikuzushi breaks free, "Hey, Y/N. .why are you so quiet. .this isn't like you. Throw complaints, yell at me, scream like you normally do. . .No, no-no-no. .Archons, please. ." he pleads, eyeing your body up and down and discovering the painful marks on your neck; a storm of guilt washing over him, "What have I done?! I'm so sorry, Y/N," the tears begin to fall as he desperately holds your body close to him, "Please. .come back to me."

[onceupona-chaos]

The Storm

Notes: So, I did something. Maybe there will be a part II, but I wanted to post this one first and now I can only hope whoever read this, might enjoy it. Also, forgive for any mistakes, English is not my first language, but I wanted to try something knew and practice a little.

Warnings: language, self-harm and slightly NSFW.

Enjoy! 😊

Elain was trying hard to pretend she wasn't picking a fight with a bush after spending the entire afternoon working in a elderly faery's garden. She didn't know how old Arya was and didn't ask either. Despite the wrinkled face that made her expression look grave at first sight, Arya was gentle enough to bring a fresh lemonade cup every few minutes. Even if Elain hadn't finished hers, it would be replaced by a full cup with two ice cubes and the right amount of sugar - and a warm smile from Arya.

So when she had sent word asking if her garden could be fixed, Elain gladly embraced the distraction, even though it didn't seem to be a particular good day for gardening, if the cloudy sky was any indication.

Kneeling on the dirt, she had been digging and pulling for hours now as she tried to get rid of the ivys surrounding the beautiful blooming roses.

Usually her gardening was a pretty distraction - her mind would focus entirely on what she was doing, her hands moving on their own accords, until every single thought that made her throat tighten was nothing but mist in the distance.

But lately something's changed.

Hateful thoughts, old anguishes, almost familiar as any part of her body, and new ones found themselves in her mind, making her remember what she longed to forget. She didn't bother to wear gloves, wanted the feeling of rough rocks and sharp thorns against her skin. Wanted to focus on the physical pain, to be as far away from her own mind as possible.

And yet it wasn't enough to keep those too many thoughts, cravings and needs at bay.

Her frustration grew with each passing second, her work getting sloppy when a thunder filled her ears.

It was definitely not a good day for gardening.

Elain couldn't decide what was worse: that her work no longer pushed her thoughts away or that she was literally fighting a stubborn rose bush, pulling a branch out with both hands and groaning a curse that would make Cassian proud.

Elain pulled and pulled, the branch slowly, Gods, so slowly giving up - and then it broke in half, leaving the part covered in thorns still buried deep in the ground. She didn't hesitate though, just wiped the sweat off of her forehead, grabbed the branch, thorns and all biting her skin, and started again.

When Arya came back once again, the lemonade cup hit the ground.

She looked at Elain, taking in the blood staining her cobalt dress, big red drops running down her hands. "It's nothing to be worried about, it's already healing."

It wasn't a lie. But Arya still insisted that Elain went home, claiming that a beautiful lady like her shouldn't remain covered in blood and sweat. A scream caught in Elain's throat that bagged for a few more minutes of distraction, just a few more. But she knew Arya was thinking about her well being, so she made a gentle smile bloom on her face and thanked her for the limonade.

"Hurry up now or you're going to get caught in the storm."

Indeed, Elain could already smell the rain, the air charged with electricity, the wind colder than usual, the promise of thunder and lighting.

Yet her steps were lingered, heavy as she walked by the vibrants streets of Velaris

When the first drops came… she tilted her head and let them pour over her, only wishing it could wash away every burden in her heart.

It didn't take long for the cold rain to soak her, making her own bones shivered. A walk back to the lake house would took long enough to make her catch a cold and since being stuck in a bed was the last thing she needed, Elain made her way to the town house. It was still empty, but at least she could warm up and wait for the rain to pass by.

Elain had just crossed the front door and immediately sighed as she felt the cozy warmth. She was freeing her hair from the braid, combing it with her fingers, taking in the sitting room of the empty house - and froze. Because that was a very, very light fireplace. She only had time to take a step back when the scent of mist and cedar hit her nose.

_______________

After a long visit to the eyes and ears under his command, one would think Azriel would take a warm bath and go for several hours of sleep to put away the feeling of the cold rain against his wings that had chased him for miles and miles.

He could have winnow into shadows. But he hoped the exhaustion of flying through the storm combined with a hot bath to relax his sore muscles would help his body to give in to some poor, few hours of sleep.

Azriel had just gone out of the bath, his hair still damp, when he heard the front door shutting. A shadow curled around his ear, registering someone's presence, and he made his steps quiet as death, aiming for the sitting room.

He hadn't seen Elain alone since Solstice and even at the few dinners on the river house he still tried to attend, Azriel could barely look her in the eyes, the memory of her pain too much for him to handle.

But there she was.

She was staring at him, wild-eyed, soaked to the bones. He allowed himself to drink the sight of her, let his eyes travel slowly through her face. Usually, in those dinners, he would hardly steal a glimpse in her direction - well aware of Rhysand's eyes almost daring him to challenge his orders. But here, alone… It was exactly this kind of situation he tried so hard to avoid, knowing it would be the death of him.

Azriel's eyes dropped to her body, the wet fabric hanging to every curve, and spotted the dark red stain on her dress. He scanned her furiously, looking for injuries, stooping at her bloody hand. There were only a few drops, the rain must have washed the blood away - but it was enough to make him want to roar at the sight of it, the predatory instincts inside him ready to kill and kill and kill whoever was responsible. Before he could say anything though, Elain blurted, "I… I thought the house was empty."

Her voice was almost a whisper above the rain, but the words hit him with the force of a thunder. Azriel swallowed hard. He knew she wasn't looking for him. Not after Solstice. But the way she'd say it...

Without even thinking, he closed the distance between them. Elain lifted her chin to keep her gaze locked with his.

Even in a filthy, soaking dress, her damp hair grabbing to her neck, her bloody hand… She was so breathtakingly beautiful, so full of light.

He took her hand in his, so delicate between his scarred fingers. The soft skin marked with small scars, no doubt from her gardening. He turned her hand, exposing her palm and saw the multiple, small bruises. His calluses brushed hers as he asked, "What happened."

She was shaking slightly, not only from the cold rain, "Usual gardening."

He couldn't take it. It was some kind of cosmic joke to be in an empty house with her, so many words hanging between them. He wanted her to know them all, but some he didn't know how to say, and others he couldn't .

Azriel almost choked on his own pain. He stared at her, letting every feeling unsaid, his own longing and despair, rise to his eyes, unable to stop it as he whispered, "I'm sorry."

Her doe eyes flickered, and Azriel knew she saw beyond those words. She knew he wasn't talking about her bruised hand still in his, the only connection between their bodies.

And when Elain squeezed his fingers, he knew she understood him. Perhaps not everything, but enough.

Azriel didn't know for how long they stood there, watching each other, their hands still intertwined, the rain pouring outside, the sound of heavy drops hitting the roof interrupted only by the rumble of thunder. Without knowing who moved first, he realized his face was inches from hers, enough to share breath. Elain inclined her head and brushed his nose with hers, the gesture so tender.

A moment later, their mouths collided at last and everything else faded away.

Her mouth was soft against him, and the scent of jasmine, honey and rain filling his nose made his eyes roll back behind his eyelids.

Such a sweet kiss as if The Mother or whoever was wanted Azriel to just have a taste of what he couldn't have. Despite every cell in his body screaming at him, Azriel made to pull away, but Elain held him in place and brushed her tongue against his bottom lip. He moaned her name and yielded himself to her.

The kiss wasn't desperate or frantic as Azriel had imagined it would be for so fucking long. No, the kiss was slow and deep, like pouring honey. Their thongs danced with each other, stroking and caressing.

And her taste… like honey and spring sunrise. He couldn't get enough. He needed more, needed her printed in his very bones, until their souls intertwined.

He was breathing hard, one of her delicate hands wandered across his chest and arms, the skin beneath her fingers burning. Elain traced every muscle, every inch of tattoo ink, as if to reaffirm he was real, that he was there. She buried her other hand into his hair, pulling slightly, and Azriel let out a sound between a moan and a purr, barely audible above the rain.

The world faded away and there was only her, only her mouth, her scent, her body. He needed her closer, wanted to merge himself with her so they would never be parted.

Everything about that kiss was so sweet and so sensuous as if it was a song sent from heaven to lure him to the deepest of hells, where every sinful idea would take form. It was his paradise and ruin, and he was utterly, thoroughly hypnotized.

He'd lovers, many throughout the centuries. But he never felt so drowned, so lost and found at the same time. Nothing had ever felt so good, nothing. Azriel could only pray to the old gods that at least one part of him would be his at the end of it.

They continued that taunting dance, touching, exploring, seducing. Their tongues met stroke for stroke until Elain parted and sucked on his bottom lip, and any sane part of him ceased to exist.

Azriel groaned and his hands moved from her waist to find that generous, gorgeous backside of hers, squeezing possessively with both hands, making her moan into his mouth. Elain ondulated her hips, pressing herself against him, and gasped when she felt exactly how much she was affecting him. How much power she had over him. A small smile curved her lips and Azriel traced it with the tip of his tongue.

More more more

Azriel could feel her shaking in anticipation, smell her arousal in the air.

He was going to devourer her inch by inch. He was going to -

Elain suddenly pulled back just enough to look at him in the eyes, and Azriel almost fell on his knees. Sheer desire was printed on her face, those pink, perfect lips swollen, making his mouth watering. A blush stained her cheeks, and he wondered what other places he could make her blush. He needed to know them all.

But all of that was nothing compared to that look on her face. The honey-brown almost entirely gone, her eyes flashing with molten desire as if those black expanded pupils were windows to her soul and his particular way through.

Both of them were breathing each other's air. Elain stared and stared and stared at him as if she was undoing every single wall and shield he'd ever raised.

Azriel let her. Didn't need them with her anyway.

He cupped her face with his hand and brushed her cheek with his thumb, making her shiver. His eyes never left hers, and he could almost see a bridge of light and dark taking form between their souls, honey-brown and hazel in each end.

When his thumb moved to trace her bottom lip, Elain cupped his hands with hers, mouth parting slightly before she kissed the tip of his finger. Azriel didn't know who he was, where he was, because there was only her, only that female accepting every part of him.

Then Elain sucked his thumb into the wet heat of her mouth. Pure desire ran through his body like a lighting straight to his groin, and he had to brace his other hand on the wall to keep himself standing, to not fall on his knees.

Elain let go of his thumb, her eyes glimmering in a way he'd only dreamed about. She inclined her head, baring her throat, and Azriel knew he was in deep shit.

He couldn't help the sound that came out from somewhere deep inside of him, his nostrils flaring at the sight of her delicate, creamy skin covering her pulse point and totally exposed to him - and only him.

Offer and permission.

A thunder rumbled outside, but all Azriel could hear was his blood singing her name as he lowered his head and brushed his nose along the side of her neck, breathing greedily and letting her scent fill his nose, his lungs. Elain arched a little, asking for more.

More

Azriel then kissed her neck tenderly. Wanted to savor every second of it, every taste of her. Didn't want to rush this - not with her, not when he had the chance. He prayed that the storm would never end, wanted to take his time, worship every part of her body until one stroke at the right place would be all that would take to make her come. Hard.

He kissed the spot beneath her ear and where her neck met her shoulder. Elain's hand tightened, pulling his hair in silent command. Azriel bared his teeth, brushing his canines against her pulse point. He pressed lightly - just enough to make his teeth sink into her skin, claiming her.

Elain moaned louder at the sensation and tightened her hold on his hair - and pure male smugness washed over him. Because he was the one she bared her throat to. It was his mouth on hers, his hands covering her ass. He could already smell his scent on her, mist and jasmine, cedar and honey.

And it was his name she moaned.

"Azriel."

Before Azriel could unleashed himself, he first dropped to his knees.

[harpershigh]

@shimmerbeasts

Jaheira leaned against Wyll, one arm draped around his shoulder as she faked a sickly stagger, her other hand clutching her side in a melodramatic show of pain. Wyll played his part well enough, as he guided her along. But she could hardly contain herself, biting down on her lip to stop the laughter bubbling up.

She threw in a raspy cough for good measure, her eyes watering — though more from stifled laughter than from her "illness". As they neared the building, she leaned in toward Wyll, barely whispering, “Don’t you dare laugh now, Ravengard.”

Because if he did, she certainly would not be able to hold her own laughter back.

The double doors groaned open, and the stale smell of decay invaded her nostrils, a memory of death too long left untouched. Inside, the House of Healing was a relic of misery — its walls, once white, now faded to a sickly gray, marred by creeping mold and dark stains that looked suspiciously like blood. The smell assaulted her in layers: rot that had settled into the wood, medicinal herbs mingling with something metallic, like old iron left out in the rain.

Each one of their steps echoed in the floor as if the building were holding its breath, waiting for them to either retreat or surrender. Jaheira stifled another cough, this one not from laughter but from the pungent stench that seemed to crawl its way to the back of her throat as they walk in. It was like even the air was trying to repel them.

It wasn't difficult for Jaheira and Wyll to find a sister. Her face was half-covered by a deteriorating mask, and the other half was exposing her pale, sallow skin stretched tight over bone. Her posture was oddly placid, holding an eerie stillness, devoid of any warmth, yet strangely urgent.

"Are you here to see the doctor? Are we poorly? Are we desperately poorly?"

Jaheira gave a dramatic gasp, clutching Wyll’s arm as if her very life depended on it. “Yes, my dear girl, we're poorly — desperately poorly!” she rasped, her voice quivering like a rickety cart wheel. She staggered a little, drawing out each word with exaggerated agony. “Oh, the pain! The suffering! It’s like I’m on death’s very doorstep, clutching his skeletal hand as he drags me toward the grave!” She clutched her chest, wheezing in the most theatrical display of ailing frailty, her eyelids fluttering with imagined weakness. “That’s why my dear grandson here has to hold me so tight... oh, yes! He fears that if I lift even a finger too high, the gods themselves will just reach down and whisk me off to the afterlife!” She threw a weak, pleading glance at the Sister, her eyes wide with wobbly desperation, as if she were just a frail breath away from slipping into the next world.

Jaheira fought back her smirk, doing her best to clutch onto Wyll as if in a spell of fever, her “cough” reverberating through the hall in hopes it masked her stifled amusement. The Sister's gaze lingered, until her lips parted in what could be said as a bewildered expression.

"You endanger the sick!"

She threw what could be a panicked look down the hall, voice dropping to a murmur.

“The doctor… he’s in the middle of a delicate procedure, and cannot be disturbed.”

The sister took a step back and clasped her hands.

“Stay here — stay right here. I’ll see what I can prepare from our stores.”

She turned her back, muttering under her breath as she browsed through a shelf, leaving Wyll and Jaheira with the brief, ominous echoes of clanks of flasks and rustle of long rotten herbs.

Jaheira’s fingers began to tingle with the faintest hum of electric energy as she prepares to Call Lighting. A glimmer of blue light flickered in her eyes, and arcs of static danced between her fingertips. She cast a sidelong glance at Wyll, smirking, her voice a low murmur.

“Wouldn’t it be a shame if there was a bit of a… disturbance here?” she mused, fingers buzzing, just waiting for his backup.

"A shame they keep their eyes covered," Jaheira remarks with a sly grin. "They'll miss out on the striking resemblance we share."

"Still, it’s an honor to pose as the matriarch of the Raveng-" Her jest is interrupted as she feels the shimmer of magic suddenly wrapping around Wyll like a cloak of energy.

The druid’s gaze snaps to the warlock, and her eyes widen as his form begins to ripple and distort, like a reflection in a disturbed pool of water. The fiendish features that once marked him fade away, the sharp angles of his face softening, horns retreating, and the dark glint in his eyes dimming.

Slowly, almost unnervingly, Wyll's demonic appearance melts into something unremarkable — a plain half-elf.

"Nice trick, cub. Very clever." Jaheira gave a nod of approval and stepped forward to steady Wyll as he adjusted to his new form. She knew well that losing something like a tail after becoming accustomed to it was no small thing. Even seasoned druids had stumbled after shifting back from a long time in their feral form, their balance thrown off by the sudden absence of limbs they had grown used to (a much more common situation than one could think).

Jaheira couldn’t help but laugh when someone called her “grandma.” She hunched over slightly, curled her spine with exaggerated effort, and extended her hand with a playful tremble. Then, as if to really sell the act, she gave a raspy cough, pretending as though she might just cough her lungs out on the spot.

Jaheira deepened her voice into an overly dramatic, elderly tone, clutching her chest for effect. "Oh, please, my dear boy... I might not have much time left..."

[bahbahhh]

@zelinkweekofficial

also on A03

Suggest Listening - Lindsey Stirling ft. Amy Lee - Love Goes On and On

  Set in the same story as The Killing Moon. You don’t need to read it but there is context you will miss out on because I take canon and set it on fire. An expansion of a tiny memory sliver in Chapter 7.

Happy Zelink week, y'all.

----

Burning embers flurry around them in the wind.  It is almost beautiful. 

Guardians swarm over the field; spiders on a web of earth torn up.  He can smell smoke and rain. The taste of his own metal is in his mouth. Zelda stands behind him. He can feel her shivering with adrenaline, her hands on his back, trying desperately to peel him up from the ground. 

How many hours had it been since he pulled her from the Spring? Where the last thread of restraint he had snapped under the weight of her sorrow? When destiny clicked into place with a kiss?  

She’s still in that ridiculous gown.  It folds around him like a burial shroud.

When her strength fails, she begins pleading with him in a hushed whisper. “Link, save yourself. Go! I’ll be fine! Don’t worry about me!”

Too much blood pools in his mouth. He gags, leaning on the Sword so he can remain upright. He won’t waste breath telling her to leave him.

They are standing in a shared grave if he can’t figure out how to get them across the field. If he can- 

Link looks up through a curtain of wet hair. In the distance their destination, Fort Hateno, is under siege. The stronghold is on fire, a burning Cheshire smile cracked wide on the horizon. A skywatcher whips around violently and crashes into the barrier, exposing part of the bailey and the garrison like a nerve. Guardians begin to scale the wall.

His entire body throbs, electricity shooting between damage points until he has a map of the carnage. Parts of him are missing. Entire pieces carved out by blasts from red lasers that trailed them relentlessly all the way from Hyrule Field. 

He won’t make it out of the swamp. 

There is nowhere left to run. 

A stalker emerges through the blackness in front of them. Flushed with corruption, gears chittering. A blue eye fixes on Link and bulges triumphantly. Link is certain one of his legs is broken by the way it screams at him to ease the weight of his body off it as he rises, but he rises anyway, pushing himself up as a shield - his last shattered a mile ago - in front Zelda.  

It lifts high on six metal legs over the rubble.  A laser beams out and marks the center of Link’s chest. He can’t even lift the Sword. 

“No!”

A star falls from the heavens in front of him. Blinding, golden light. The entire world bleaches whiter than white and then snaps back like a rubber band with Zelda at the center. The Guardians around them immediately power down, folding in on their legs under the weight of lifeless casting shells. Energy burns off them and disappears into the sky with a sudden gust of wind. As brilliantly as she burned, she fades in an instant, balking at her hands in front of her. 

The sight of it takes the last of his strength. 

“No, no!”

He doesn’t remember falling but he’s flat on the earth when she reaches him, gathering him up against her. Link is so proud. He wants to tell her he is so fucking proud of her but he’s unraveling quickly in her arms. The tide pulls more of him away with every wave. 

Zelda's speaking mostly to herself, rattling off a prayer of feeble assurances, trying to figure out how to plug the holes in his body with her Power. She tells him he's going to be fine, that she's right with him, that she loves him. He sighs in relief, the breath rattling in his throat. With her Power awakened, she is the sun and all the stars in living flesh.

If only he could stay and witness her exhume the bones of the Kingdom that doubted her.  

Tears splatter on his face. Goddess, she’s warmer than the rain. Through the cracks he begins to split and look at her with different eyes. 

(He’s floating away on a Red Lion in the sea.)  

Link can feel her trying to pour gold into him.

(He’s on all fours, head bowed, confined to the atavistic form of Twilight's curse.) 

Her Power rolls off him and spills onto the earth. She commands him not to leave her. 

(The air smells like sulfur and burning flesh. Hylia’s Realm has been torn open at the seams, a festering pool of black rot remains. Evil’s thumbprint. A glimpse of the world He promises to build. Link can feel a shiver of courage stretch over his skin, the invisible net he cannot escape. It strains and begins to pull him toward his soul’s destiny. He braces himself over the gaping mouth of Hate. Over his shoulder he can see her, glowing dimly where she fell. Nearly soulless. Fading. He’s her only chance.) 

He looks at her.

(They stand face to face in the sky. She’s holding an ocarina with both hands and he only realizes what she is doing just as she moves to do it.  A flute song fills his ears, drowns the words in his throat. Beams of light surround him. They start to dance and spin, her image dissolving into the blue. He strains against the force pulling him skyward, desperately committing every detail of her to memory.)

She’s looking at him. A thousand goodbyes on his useless tongue. He starts to move his hands, fingers spelling her name in the language that is theirs alone. 

He looks at her forever. She's the last thing he ever sees. 

[astalavista4u]

In another life - Nier: Replicant

Check out this awesome fanfic my friend wrote! Honestly I loved this story so much, so I convinced them to share it with the world.

Pairing: Emil/Nier (one-sided)

A/N: in Nier:Replicant one can change the character name. In my version he is called Llys. All the events described here take place in the second part of the game.

It rained all morning. Emil looked up into the sky wondering how long will it last. Kaine was dozing off nearby, her back against stiff and wet rock. Their campfire was long gone, the remaining embers washed away by the rain. Probably they need to find a new place, dry and comfortable but for some reason Emil was reluctant to move.

He thought about his body…Will the rains turn his skeleton-like limbs all rusty and then they will slowly start falling apart? Kaine and Llys are human, rain is no threat to them…but what about him? Surely the forces of nature will try to fight this disgusting body, will try to wipe him away from Earth. The crying seagulls on their way to Seafront distracted him a bit but this pain lingered in his mind. Instinctively he hugged himself with his long skeletal arms, a protection of sort from nature…And from voices in his head so full of self-hatred.

Kaine moved anxiously in her sleep. -She did not actually sleep during the night. – he thought. – So I won’t disturb her now…Maybe she is dreaming of something nice this time.

Should the likes of me even dream?

His eyes suddenly caught a glimpse of a silhouette approaching from the north-east of the plains – white messy hair, slim and tall figure, a giant broadsword behind his back. Emil thanked the gods again for letting him see all this without hurting anyone. Probably the only thing he really was thankful for.

The white circles he had for eyes were lifeless but in truth his real eyes devoured every last part of the figure trying to memorize every little detail: the length of his boots, his walking manner, every feature of his almost perfect face which was now visible from where he sat. Each time he saw Llys he drowned in that grey and blue eyes of his, confident and cold but somehow at the same time kind and understanding. Each time he saw Llys he brought up memories of how he lost his human body and how he felt and how Llys never rejected him but greeted him instead with calming words and opened arms.

I will never abandon you.

Do you really think that he cares about you?

He keeps you by his side because he thinks you are useful.

For now.

YOU’RE WRONG! – with this last cry the other whispering voices slowly retreated to the darkest places of his mind only to appear again later.

Emil gathered himself quickly and floated towards Llys. After all Kaine was still sleeping…Let her rest just a bit longer.

- Llys! – he said, voice as cheerful as always. – What’s up? How was that business of yours at Seafront?

- Fine, I guess. – Llys looked tired and wary after the journey. Exhausted, even. – The package was hard to deliver but the client paid handsomely. -Let it be the last time when we fulfill such foolish requests. – Grimmoire Weiss materialized behind Llys.

- Don’t push yourself too hard, please. – Emil placed his hand on Llys’s shoulder and squeezed lightly. The sensation was very nice, it sent electric impulses up to his spine. Emil suddenly imagined himself like a real human, a version of himself but five years older. Back then during their first encounter Kaine told him that he was a “cute little thing”, so probably after five years this cuteness will remain? Maybe Llys will also call him cute. He imagined a real hand touching the shoulder of his dear friend, a hand of flesh and blood. He imagined his own lilac eyes looking at Llys with warmth and care and not these horrible empty sockets. His own lips smiling cheerfully not this terrifying mouth twisted with everlasting monstrosity which no one ever will call a smile.

You are disgusting…

He is disgusted by your touch, can’t you see?

This sudden outburst of his imagination only lasted for a moment but with these thoughts Emil’s hand hastily left Llys’s side. Emil looked away ashamed of his actions. – You stupid piece of junk, you should have asked if he was okay with the touch, he probably felt…

- Emil, is everything okay? – Emil felt two strong hands grabbing his skeleton shoulders and felt Llys’s gaze on his face.

- Ha..ha-hah, y-yeah, sure! Why do you ask? – even if his face wasn’t capable of showing any emotion his voice still betrayed him.

- Are you sure? – Emil turned to face Llys only to find him several centimeters away. If he had a real body his cheeks would probably blush…

- Y-yeah, of course I’m sure…Just feeling a bit lonely, you know. Kaine is sleeping, didn’t get much sleep during the night and you were at Seafront, so…

- Emil…- Weiss stopped unable to find the right words.

Llys glanced quickly at their camping place – remnants of the fire, Kaine lying on hard wet rock, her swords and Emil’s scepter covered carefully by a piece of cloth. Something dire ran across his beautiful face…something like rage. Emil has already prepared himself for this talk they had had several times before: - No, Llys, everything is fine, really…We are used to sleeping outside. We feel perfectly comfortable and we don’t need anything, so don’t worry about us.

And then Llys leaned closer and hugged him. He pressed Emil’s head to his chest whispering: I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…Somehow among the countless rain droplets bombarding his head he made out one that was entirely different. And then another. And another. Hot tears poured from Llys’s eyes, small droplets traveling down to where Emil’s eyes and nose should be. All Emil could do was just to hug him back and try to wave away the thought of how he would like to sense the taste of these tears on his own lips.

He never realized that his and Kaine’s sleeping place was such a miserable sight. Never put much thought into it. His well-being never was much of a concern. Yet here he was, his dearest friend crying about his fate.

- Please, moment, never go away…Let me stand here hugging my friend for an eternity. Let the worlds collapse around us, just please don’t let go

Of course he knew the absurdity of this thought and he cursed himself for it. No happy life was possible without Kaine, without Weiss, without Yonah who is still out there, probably in grave danger. And yet…Please let me be selfish just once…

***

Sometime after the events in Façade

Kaine tossed some paper into their campfire. Emil cuddled near it watching the chaotic dance of flames.

- Kaine…I wanted to ask you something.

- Well, go ahead. – She leaned against the rock throwing the remaining paper into the fire. – What is it, Emil?

- Well, it’s about the king’s wedding…Or more about what I’ve said on that wedding.

- So? – Kaine raised an eyebrow. – What is it you said?

Emil would have licked his lips if he had those before starting this awkward conversation.

- Well…Just before the tragedy I spoke with Llys. I told him how I envied Fyra, how I wanted to be Fyra on this wedding. He told me that one day I will find a wonderful bride. But…

- It wasn’t the case, was it? – she asked.

Emil gasped. – W-wait! How did you even…

- I’m not fucking blind, you know. – she plainly looked at him, her gaze didn’t show any judgement, maybe a bit of concern.

- It’s just…I…Is something wrong with me? I really felt that way…I wanted to be on Fyra’s place and I would never say that to him of course, but I wanted Llys to be on king’s place.

Kaine kept silent, though somehow her gaze seemed encouraging. She wanted him to keep talking.

- I just…I imagined this ceremony…I, meaning my true self, will wear a white suit holding a great bouquet of lunar tears and Llys, he will be dressed in black and grey cause I think these colors look great on him. Everyone will be singing and dancing, eating tasty food, tossing flower petals over their heads. And…and you will be there too, Kaine. Cheering and laughing with others! No, don’t give me that look! I know that you will join us this time.

His imagination flowed onwards and onwards but he was so overwhelmed with these thoughts and ideas that he never wanted to stop. And Kaine didn’t seem to bother.

- Weiss will probably grumble again but he will end up sharing jokes with guests. Yonah will be there too, she will cook one of her special dishes! And Devola and Popola! I’ve heard that they have angelic voices and their singing is magnificent…And me and Llys, we will cheer with you. He will take my hand and lead me onwards…We will stand in front of everyone and someone will say: Now, you can seal your marriage with a kiss! And Llys he will…he will kiss me and then I…

His speech ended abruptly as his eyes accidentally caught a glimpse of a skeleton hand. He stared at it stupidly as if it wasn’t his, waiting for a real hand of flesh and bone to replace this monstrous limb. Realization stroke him like a lightning bolt. How could you forget something like this?

- No…No, what am I saying…O God…I am so sorry, I never really meant any of this, please don’t take it seriously. Just please, forget it, Kaine!

His body started to shake, he felt like he will burst into tears. But they never came. Another reminder to toss away these stupid dreams…He sobbed. Long skeleton limbs gathered around to protect him from the outside world. Only to be stopped by firm grip on his arm.

- Quit your whining, goddammit! – Kaine rarely raised her voice at him before. But now she was furious, flickers of red in her eyes. In a one harsh movement she pulled him up and looked directly at his face. There was no chance for Emil to avoid those eyes now. – Listen to me, Emil. And listen carefully. I don’t give a fuck about this romantic fluffy stuff you were babbling about. But here is what I know: if you love someone than fucking go for it, no whirling around. Trust me, we don’t have time for this bullshit.

- I know why you hesitate – “look at my body, I am so disgusting, I am a monster, no one will ever love me”. I am a monster too, Emil. And yet I had grandma who cared about me, protected me from those fuckers in the Aerie, who loved me. And then I found Llys. You found Llys. Did he treat you like you were a freak back then when you still haven’t lost your human form?

- N-no. – Emil managed to answer between his quiet sobs. – He was gentle, kind to me even if I was a total stranger.

- Did his attitude change when you transformed?

- No, no…When I realized that I had changed I started to cry. I hated myself so much…But still he hugged me. Told me that we will figure something out.

- That’s what I’m talking about. Our small group is a motherfucking freak show – stupid floating book, skeleton boy, possessed bitch. And yet he took us all in, accepted our sins and our souls. Don’t doubt him, Emil. He won’t abandon you.

- What I am trying to say is that you shoudn’t think for Llys. He has his own head on his shoulders and if you ever come up with confession he will answer without hurting your feelings. And well, if he won’t I’ll shove the stick right up his ass!

- Kaine! Don’t say things like that!

- Shut up and let me finish my thought. – Kaine let him go and Emil slowly retreated to his seat still sobbing. – I don’t know if the answer will be yes or no. What I DO know is that you, Emil, deserve love. Yes, you look like a skeleton but you are the kindest, the gentlest creature on this goddamn earth. You saved everyone in that village, you sacrificed your body to get me back. Such souls are so hard to find… like lunar tears. You. Deserve. Love. Never even try to tell me otherwise!

She breathed in heavily, tired from this improvised speech. Silence fell over their camp disturbed only by cracking of fire. Emil’s sobs died with Kaine’s words.

- The only thing to do is to tell him about your feelings. The sooner the better.

- I know that we don’t have much time. But the only thing Llys thinks of now is Yonah. And I…I don’t want to disturb his grief and add even more problems.

His voice still trembled from the crying but with each phrase spoken he seemed to become more confident.

- We all need to focus on Yonah’s rescue, so I’ll probably save my…my confession for later. I will tell him everything after we return from the Shadowlord’s castle.

***

That night Emil dreamt. He saw a mansion as big as the one where he had been locked up for his entire life but this one wasn’t so ominous. Sunrays knocked at the windows, green moss crawled up the walls, the front doors were wide open welcoming every traveler inside. Birds sang their praises to the sun hidden behind the branches of gigantic oak, a wild boar tamed by Llys rolled in circles on the grass. The waters of the nearby lake glistened invitingly, one gaze just enough to go swimming. Though Llys probably spent all his time fishing. Behind the mansion he saw a small garden with long rows of vegetables and entire flowerbeds vibrant with lunar tears. Wow, Llys has finally found a way to grow them…

On the second floor there was a library: books gathered from Seafront and Façade and from Llys’s village, books on languages long forgotten, scientific reports, treasure maps, musical scores…Everything was there for him to dig in, to reveal all the secrets the history of humanity has to offer. He heard the sounds of music from the first floor – someone was playing the piano and two angelic voices followed the tune. Popola entered the song after Devola and their voices intertwined beautifully when they reached the refrain.

Kaine was there, sitting casually on a chair, her terrifying blades nowhere to be seen. Yonah, her arms crossed on the chest, stood near Kaine, completely devoured by the song. Grimoire Weiss floated nearby trying to follow the rhythm. The young king of Façade and his wife Fyra were dancing gracefully in the center of the room and another pair of more clumsy dancers whirled around them – they both had red bags fastened on their shoulders.

Only then Emil turned his gaze to the piano. And stunned. An older version of himself, no more than nineteen years old, was playing the piano, his lilac eyes serious and focused, movements of his fingers precise and quick. He was not alone…Another pair of hands joined him, clumsily pressing on piano keys.

Llys was there…By his side.

When the song finally came to the end the dancers stopped catching their breaths. The red bag couple immediately started their usual argument – who stepped on whose foot and who was the first to lose rhythm during the dance. The king shouted praises to musicians, his wife nodding fiercely.

Kaine shrugged but he caught a glimpse of smile on her always emotionless face. Yonah clapped so hard that Weiss started to accuse her of creating additional vibrations making his floating more difficult. The twins laughed cheerfully at his grumbling.

Emil’s heart almost stopped when he looked again at the pair at the piano. Llys placed his hands around the waist of his older version, he saw himself blushing vividly at the touch. While everyone else was talking, clapping and laughing, Llys’s head rested on his shoulder, nose poking at the curve of his neck. With one lazy movement Llys cupped his blushing cheek and turned Emil, so he could see his face. There was a question on his lips, something unimportant, stupid even but it all died immediately when Llys covered Emil’s lips with his. Emil stumbled just for a second but then his lilac eyes closed and he eagerly returned the kiss placing his hands in a soft white mess of Llys’s hair.

- I want to stay here forever

***

In the Shadowlord’s castle

- Emil, no!

- Get back here! EMIL!

He could perfectly hear their shouts from here. His small sphere floated back dragged by Popola’s magic. There isn’t much time. The sphere containing his friends successfully reached the other side of the broken bridge and he sighed in relief casting a dispel.

They’ve made it. Good. They still have a chance to defeat the Shadowlord.

…

You are such a coward.

I didn’t have the strength to confess. I failed.

You lost your chance. I’m sorry.

…

The black void devoured him completely. Small cracks started to appear on the light-blue surface of the sphere looking like spider webs. Beautiful.

Llys…I…

I love you

I want to see you again.

I want to see all of you again.

I don’t want to die.

There is so much I wanted to tell you, Llys

Perhaps, in another life.

The sphere crushed under the pressure of the void. It continued to collapse until it reached the size of an apple. As hungrily and fiercely the void devoured everything on its way before as calmly and peacefully it turned into golden ashes carried away by the winds.

Emil’s scepter fell on the ground with an ominous ringing.

In another life.

[lovelikedestiny]

Hold me when I shatter

With cold brutality and fierce determination, the scalpel cuts through his skin, severing muscles and tendons, digging mercilessly into his flesh until it hits bones and Joe wants to scream, but no sound comes out of his mouth. Out of his mouth, which opens in an excruciating, silent cry that no one can hear. Burning fire flows through his veins, setting his body in all-consuming flames that cannot be extinguished by any water in the world.

Blood splatters, hot and red, the metallic smell impregnates the air and lets Joe suffocate, suffocate, suffocate. He cannot move, is trapped in his own body, which is now his grave: doomed for all eternity to die and come back to life to more horrific research...torture methods, never being able to find longed for peace. Nicky...Nicolo...Where's Nicolo? This question splits his mind like a scorching lightning bolt, sends electric shocks through his limbs and Joe is filled with panic that rises over him like a wave and crashes down on him with full force. He is whirled around by disgusting noises as the faceless doctor operates a bone saw. The electrical hum is replaced by the splintering sound of breaking ribs and the pain becomes overwhelming. Joe doesn't know what kind of noise is coming from his mouth, but he doesn't recognize his own voice in the suffering howl, the whimpering. It feels wrong, everything is wrong and artificial and dead. Dead like rotten wood, rotting meat that is being decomposed by maggots, rotten and withered. Nothing is immune to time, but now it is turning against them. How long must they endure this torment? Is there an escape from this cruel cycle of never-ending life? Where's Nicolo? P-Please. Despite the pain that showers down on him like caustic rain, eating its way through each of his cells and leaving behind chaos, which his body wants to repair, but cannot, because the saw cuts, cuts, cuts, his whole being is focused on Nicky. Where is his moon? The light that guides him? His safe haven? He doesn't know and that's even worse than the sight of his open rib cage, which he catches for seconds before black dots dance in his field of vision and pull him down. Lower and lower until nothing exists but darkness and his fear, his pain, his agony. Blood fills his lungs steadily like a rushing brook and finally Joe can scream, expressing the unspeakable pain as he gurgles and drowns in his own blood. Will this be their future? Doomed to drown like Quynh in her iron cage in the ocean,  to taste their own blood instead of the salty water until they get used to breathing liquid metal and living red salt. “Yusuf,” the faceless doctor says, standing threatening over him, the saw in her hand still for a tiny moment. His full name is like a whiplash, snatches the little bit of himself from him that is left to him and he wants to lash out and roar how she knows his name. That she can't use his name. "Yusuf!" His blood is dripping from the saw and the doctor is faceless and cold, for her he is just an object and that for a long time. "-suf! Yusuf, habibi, wake up!” A choked scream breaks out of his narrow throat and at first, he wants to defend himself against the hands that reach for him, but his body is faster than his mind, recognizes the familiar touch and gives up any resistance while Joe still has to find his way back to reality. He has a metallic taste in his mouth, frantically feels his upper body with trembling hands, looking for wounds that have long been healed, for cuts by scalpels and needles, saws and other instruments, each more cruel than the other. Though immortal, his body has a memory too, echoes of excruciating pain make him tense, Nicky's painful screams in his ear. His eyes sting, streams of hot tears pour down his cheeks. “Joe, you are safe. You are fine, we are fine. I have you, tesoro. I've got you.” The gentle words slowly penetrate him, the Italian accent wraps itself around his heart like soothing balm and Joe suddenly loses all strength. He collapses in himself, finds comfort in the warmth of the chest at which he is pressed. A sobbing whimper cuts through the surrounding darkness like a knife and Joe only notices that the noise is coming from his throat when Nicky begins to rock him gently in his arms and hums an old melody that Joe still likes to hear. “Nobody will hurt you here, Yusuf. I promise." Like a drowning man for whom Nicky's arms are a saving wooden plank, he clings to his lover so tightly that marks would have appeared on his fair skin if immortality hadn't washed away all injuries. He continues to hear the horrific noises of the cutting saw, the dripping of blood that doesn't stop, but he trusts Nicky with his life and more, so his mind is gradually breaking away from the nightmare. "We're in Malta, Joe," Nicky continues, as if he wanted to calm a frightened child or animal and when Joe thinks that they were nothing more than guinea pigs for the doctor in the lab, his breath catches in his throat. Nicky feels his tension and holds him tighter, holds Joe together as he threatens to fall apart and does not allow the nightmare to pull him back into a world full of pain and agony. “We are in Malta and we ate apricots and pomegranates and dates and figs yesterday. You took my hand and laughed at how sticky it was and when we kissed, I could taste the sweet juice of the fruit, the sun and the salt of the sea on your lips.” Malta. Their place of retreat, their shelter, when everything around them threatens to be washed away in the rain. A few years ago, Joe painted the railing of their little terrace blue in an attempt to capture Nicky's eye color, but he can never get Nicky on canvas the way he deserves. He remembers that Nicky then painted yellow flowers on the blue, his tongue tucked concentrated between his teeth, and the beaming smile when Nicky turned to him after finishing his task. Nicky's open smile is what Joe now clings to because that smile is only meant for him. "You had charcoal on your cheek from sketching yesterday and I removed it with my thumb." Nicky presses his lips to Joe's forehead; his arms wrap around him securely and strong. The faded fabric of Nicky's sleep shirt under Joe's cheek is wonderfully soft and he buries his nose in it, inhales the warm, familiar smell of Nicky, but doesn't dare let go of him. “I made chicken with orange sauce while you read me the Iliad. After dinner we danced in the kitchen and you said you'd bring the stars and the moon out of the sky if you could, so that my eyes would be the only thing that would light up the night.” From Joe's position he cannot see Nicky's face, but he hears the slight amusement in his voice, as well as the overwhelming affection. "And I said that it would be pretty cruel for the rest of the world because my eyes shine only for you." Joe's panicked gasp turns into frantic breathing as last night takes shape in his head: Nicky's wiry, slender figure in his arms, the irrepressible warmth in his heart as the gaze of the bright eyes was fixed on him, a kiss sweet and mild as the orange sauce that became intense and endless and moved Joe to the depths of his bones. "Are you with me?" Nicky asks in a whisper, but makes no move to release Joe from his arms, although his grip is loose and not crushing. And Joe is so immensely grateful to him that he lets Joe decide for himself whether he wants to break away from Nicky or stay pressed against him. It takes a few long seconds before Joe is sure he can answer and all he gets out of his mouth is a gasping, barely audible: "Always." Nicky makes a soft sound as a sign that he heard him. "Should I turn on the light, my heart?" "No!" Joe rasps out, wanting to stay well hidden in the dark, hidden from the cold, unnatural light of the laboratory. "No! No light! No...no light." Nicky doesn't ask him what he's been dreaming about because he knows. He waits with the greatest patience for Joe to act of his own accord or to speak while he caresses his back, presses his nose into Joe's dark curls and Joe notices how the traces of the nightmare evaporate. Only when Joe no longer has the feeling of shattering into a thousand pieces when he lets go of his only anchor does he break away from Nicky. He seeks his gaze, despite the fact that his face must look terrible from crying and his hands, which reach for Nicky, are still shaking. Nicky's fingers, slender and sinewy, perfectly made for bows and sniper rifles, wrap tightly and securely around his, exerting a comfortable, grounding pressure. The Italian's eyes seem to glow, bright and warm, in the silvery moonlight falling through a gap between the curtains, although one could expect the color of his eyes would make his gaze feel cold. "I ..." He starts, suddenly not knowing what he wants to say. The words are too heavy for his tongue and he fears that he will suffocate on them. "Nicky, I...it...” "Don't," Nicky interrupts whispering the sentence, which Joe doesn't even know how to end. “Don't apologize for healing, Joe. Never for it and not for less." He lifts Joe's right hand, turns it and kisses the bared palm, then every fingertip. The touch of his lips is just gossamer like the flap of a butterfly's wings and Joe wants, needs more.

Continue reading on AO3 ;)

[random-ass-fanboy]

My Snape playlist:

Here are 40 songs that remind me of Snape, if anyone is interested :)

Feel free to leave song recommendations for this playlist in the comments!

TW/ depressing lyrics and mentions of suicidal ideation.

-

Paralyzed- NF

"Where are my feelings? I no longer feel things, I know I should. I'm paralyzed. Where is the real me? I'm lost and it kills me inside, I'm paralyzed."

My Immortal- Evanescence

"You used to captivate me, by your resonating light. Now, I'm bound by the life you left behind. Your face it haunts, my once pleasant dreams. Your voice it chased away, all the sanity in me."

Horrible Kids- Set It Off

"Picture this he was just a kid, not knowing where to begin. He wore all the wrong clothes, followed all the wrong trends, persecuted for the things he did."

Lifeboat- Heathers the Musical

"Everyone's pushing! Everyone's fighting Storms are approaching, there's nowhere to hide! If I say the wrong thing, or I wear the wrong outfit, they'll throw me right over the side!"

Panic Room- Au/Ra

"The silence is so loud. The lights spark and flicker, with monsters much bigger, than I can control now. Welcome to the panic room, where all your darkest fears are gonna come for you."

Michael in the Bathroom- Be More Chill

"I am hiding, but he's out there, just ignoring all our history. Memories get erased, and I'll get replaced, with a newer cooler version of me."

Worthless- eli.

"I'm always so alone, even when surrounded, by people that I know. I'm always so astounded, by my ability to ruin everything. Losing friends and starting fires, everyone thinks I'm a liar"

Let Me Down Slowly- Alec Benjamin

"Don't cut me down, throw me out, leave me here to waste. I once was a man with dignity and grace. Now, I'm slipping through the cracks of your cold embrace. So please, please.."

Waving Through a Window- Dear Evan Hansen

"We start with stars in our eyes. We start believing that we belong. But every sun doesn't rise. And no one tells you where you went wrong"

Broken Again- eli.

"No one knows what it's like putting up a fight, for your life every time, now I'm losing sight. Wish that I had a way to make me feel alive. I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die."

Match in the Rain- Alec Benjamin

"Yeah, I can taste it, it's the end, this love's impossible to save. Though you embrace it, I can't face it, so I look the other way. There's trouble in your eyes, but I pretend that we're okay. I wish that we could compromise, but there's just nothin' left to say."

Snail- Cavetown

"I was just born like this. Wish that I could change it. Four peculiar limbs and a head that doesn't fit. Wish that I was still a kid."

Dissappear- eli.

"Carrying the burdens of the world up on my shoulders. Looking for the answers, maybe I'll know once I'm older. Need some time to recollect myself, please don't forget me. When I disappear next week, I hope you can forgive me."

Teenagers- My Chemial Romance

"The boys and girls in the clique, the awful names that they stick. You're never gonna fit in much, kid. But if you're troubled and hurt, what you got under your shirt, will make them pay for the things that they did."

Words Fail- Dear Evan Hansen

"No, I'd rather pretend I'm something better than these broken parts. Pretend I'm something other than this mess that I am! 'Cause then I don't have to look at it, and no one gets to look at it! No, no one can really see!"

Untitled- Mxmtoon

"I tend to forget, that I shouldn't fret. People come and then they go. At this point I should know."

I'll Sleep When I'm Dead- Set it Off

"I'm stuck self-torturing, my meds are failing me, internal clock in smithereens. Can't fix this. I'm hopeless. My eyes are stapled open wide, as I lay down on my side. I am bouncing off these walls."

Outrunning Karma- Alec Benjamin

"He's never gonna make it, all the poor people he's forsaken, karma, is always gonna chase him for his lies. It's just a game of waiting from the church steeple down to Satan karma. There's really no escape until he dies."

One Song Glory- RENT

"Find, one song, one last refrain. Glory. From the pretty boy front man, who wasted opportunity. One song, he had the world at his feet. Glory. In the eyes of a young girl, a young girl."

Good For You- Dear Evan Hansen

"All I need is some time to think! But the boat is about to sink. Can't erase what I wrote in ink. Tell me how could you change the story?

All the words that I can't take back, like a train coming off the track. 'Cause the rails and my bones all crack. I've got to find a way to stop it, stop it! Just let me off!"

Teen Idle- MARINA

"Adolescence didn't make sense. A little loss of innocence. The ugliness of being a fool. Ain't youth meant to be beautiful?"

Dark Paradise- Lana Del Rey

"And there's no remedy for memory. Your face is like a melody, it won't leave my head. Your soul is hunting me and telling me, that everything is fine. But I wish I was dead!"

Trying- Cavetown

"I'm trying to tear the wool from your eyes. But a part of me wants to let you be. 'Cause then you wouldn't see what I've become. I'm trying to shout, but no sound comes out. It's like we're in a dream state. But I should've woken up, woken up by now."

Wake Me Up When September Ends- Green Day

"Here comes the rain again, falling from the stars. Drenched in my pain again, becoming who we are."

21 Guns- Green Day

"When you're at the end of the road, and you lost all sense of control. And your thoughts have taken their toll. When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul."

Give Me Novacaine- Green Day

"Take away the sensation inside. Bitter sweet migraine in my head. It's like a throbbing tooth ache of the mind. I can't take this feeling anymore."

iRobot- Jon Bellion

"I am a robot, thoughtless and empty. Don't know who sent me, don't know who made me. Electric robot, everything's gray now. Numb to the pain now, I knew what love was."

Another One Of Those Days- Cavetown

"Passed that kid from chemistry, who made fun of my name. He didn't look very happy. I guess we all turn out the same."

Boulevard of Broken Dreams- Green Day

"My shadow's the only one that walks beside me. My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating. Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me. 'Til then I walk alone."

We Don't Have To Dance- Andy Black

"You're never gonna get it, I'm a hazard to myself. I'll break it to you easy, this is hell, this is hell! You're looking and whispering, you think I'm someone else! This is hell, yes, I am in hell!

Ribcage- Andy Black

"Nothing in the cage of my ribcage! Got no heart to break, like it that way. Nothing in the cage of my ribcage! Emptiness is safe, keep it that way."

The Run and Go- Twenty One Pilots

"I can't take them on my own, my own. Oh, I'm not the one you know, you know. I have killed a man and all I know, is I am on the run and go."

Fall Away- Twenty One Pilots

"I disguise, and I will lie, and I will take my precious time. As the days spent away, as I stand in line, and I die as I wait, as I wait on my crime. And I'll try to delay what you make of my life, but I don't want your way, I want mine. I'm dying and trying, but believe me I'm fine. But I'm lying, I'm so very far from fine!

Trapdoor- Twenty One Pilots

"He wakes up early today, throws on a mask that will alter his face. Nobody knows his real name, but now he just uses one he saw on a grave. And he pretends he's okay, but you should see, oh. Him in bed late at night, he's petrified."

Sad Song- Christina Perri

"I wish I wasn’t always wrong, I wish it wasn’t always my fault. The finger that you’re pointing has knocked me on my knees. And all you need to know is… I'm so sorry, It’s not like me. It’s maturity that I’m lacking."

Escapism- Steven Universe

"I guess I have to face, that in this awful place, I shouldn't show a trace of doubt. But pulled against the grain. I feel a little pain, that I would rather do without."

Semi-Automatic- Twenty One Pilots

"Night falls with gravity, the earth turns from sanity, taking my only friend I know, he leaves a lot, his name is "Hope". I'm never what I like, I'm double-sided, and I just can't hide, I kind of like it when I make you cry, 'cause I'm twisted up, I'm twisted up inside."

Screen- Twenty One Pilots

"I can't see past my own nose, I'm seeing everything in slo-mo. Look out below crashing down to the ground just like a vertical locomotive. That's a train, am I painting the picture that's in my brain? A train from the sky, locomotive, my motives are insane!"

March To The Sea- Twenty One Pilots

"Then the wages of war will start, inside my head with my counterpart. And the emotionless marchers will chant the phrase, 'This line's the only way.' Then I start down the sand, my eyes are focused on the end of land. But again the voice inside my head, says, 'follow me instead.'"

Migraine- Twenty One Pilots

"Freeze frame, please let me paint a mental picture portrait. Something you won't forget, it's all about my forehead, and how it is a door that hold's back contents, that makes Pandora's box contents look non-violent!"

[lottiethroughthelookingglass]

Another 15x19 coda/15x20 fix-it? It’s more likely than you think. Anyway I think they should have delivered on the whole barn thing also feeling personally victimised by Lord Huron’s “The Night We Met”

on ao3

It’s a pull in his stomach.

It starts the moment they agree to check out the strange deaths of three IT professionals in the same small mid-western town.

He almost turns it down, says it’s was probably nothing, says they should probably let someone else take it. But he doesn’t

Sam hasn’t connected the dots. Then again why should he. He’d been off with Ruby or something. There’s no reason for him to even think of that night.

The hunt turns out to be a quick salt and burn. The three IT guys had stolen software from the company and the ghost of their ex-boss apparently couldn’t rest without vengeance.

These people need to get their priorities sorted. Dean thinks as he shovels dirt from the boss’s freshly dug grave while Sam stands watch for cops or security guards or the ghost or whatever else might decide to fuck up their night.

The body burns quickly and they’re able to head straight back to the motel. Done and dusted. Sam showers and then conks out almost immediately on his still-made bed.

Dean can’t sleep. Typical. He stares at the faded wallpaper on the dingy hotel room wall. The pull feels like a burning. He wants to throw up. But then again, he wants to throw up most of the time these days.

Grief’s a raw nerve ending. But it can’t last forever. He knows that. It’s not the first time he’s grieved. Not the first time he’s filled his days with drinking and nights with numbness.

But before there’d always been other things to distract him. After Sam there’d been Lisa and Ben, Sam and Jack after Cas and then Chuck and the end of the goddamn world after Mary.

He’s spent the better part of the last year wishing for nothing more than a chance to stop Chuck once and for all and now he almost wishes they hadn’t. Almost wishes that Chuck or Michael or Lucifer or just some damn bad guy would poke their head up and make his life miserable again. At least give him something he can fight. Some goal to work towards. Something he can defeat.

Because this. This he can’t do anything about. All he can do for this is turn through the motions and pretend that he’s ok.

The pull is in his chest.

Maybe it would help. Maybe it’s what he needs. Some kind of closure. Completing the circle bullshit or whatever.

He leaves just after 1am. Sam’ll be out for at least a few more hours. He leaves a note anyway on the cheap motel notepad – gone for a drink, will be back in the morning – Dean.

Sam won’t like it. He’ll be mad in the morning but he’ll be over it soon enough.

It takes almost two hours to get there. The roads all begin to look the same and he soon realises that despite having a good memory for locations it turns out finding a random barn you visited once twelve years ago isn’t as easy as he thought it would be.

He keeps driving. If nothing else it’ll be a way to pass the time and the search at least gives him something to do.

Eventually, he begins to see a few familiar signs. A dirt road with a twisted tree he recognises and it’s suddenly before him.

The barn’s still standing but the years haven’t been kind. Even more slats of wood are missing than before and one end is badly charred from a long-extinguished fire.

He parks Baby behind the barn, in the same spot he had twelve years prior and enters reverently like a parishioner to a church. There’s no need for a torch as the moonlight finds its way through the holes in the roof to bathe the floor in a cool blue light.

The pull turns to an ache.

The sigils are still there upon the walls. Hardly touched by graffiti over the years.

He makes his way down the centre of the barn, the dirt and grass crunching softly under his boots.

At the end of the barn he turns to face the doors.

There’s no breeze, they stand still. Firmly closed.

He doesn’t fall, just finds himself on the ground. His back against the wall and head raised to the sky. The heavens shine above him, stars in their multitudes glitter above.

Cas…

He breathes it out. It’s not a prayer. More a lamentation.

He prayed the first few nights. Racing after Chuck he prayed and he prayed and he hoped that Cas could hear him. But after Chuck was gone and the days started to blur praying became too much. It was just a reminder of the silence that would always face him.

In the stillness of the night there’s a flutter. A familiar sound.

Dean doesn’t move. His mind’s gotten particularly good at playing tricks on him lately.

“Dean?”

A silhouette against the closed barn doors. No sparks rain down. Permanently messy black hair and rumpled tan trench coat and skewwhiff blue tie illuminated by the pale moonlight.

“What are you doing here?”

The figure approaches him. His steps hesitant, nothing like the march under gunfire he’d made that night.

“Saw it on TripAdvisor. Apparently, this barn’s a top tourist attraction.” Dean replies with a crooked but mirthless grin.

Castiel stops, his head tilting.

They regard each other. Castiel’s eyes seem to brim with pain.

Dean’s are empty. He’s cried enough tears and he isn’t going to let some ghostly hallucination draw more from him now.

“Why are you here Dean?” The apparition’s voice is firmer, more demanding.

Dean sighs, tilts his head against the wall, “Just looking for some closure. A bit of sense I guess.”

His mind’s image is before him now, leaning down, reaching out-

A solid hand presses against his arm.

“Dean?”

Dean’s whole-body flinches. Visions can’t touch.

He stares up at the man before him, his eyes wide.

“Cas?” He breathes. “You’re not-”

“I’m sorry, I just saw you were here and… Jack was worried for you. He said I should talk to you.”

Dean tenses, “What do you mean saw? Jack-”

Visions of leaping up and embracing are dashed even as Cas begins to retreat.

“How are you here?” Dean demands, anger bubbling to the surface over any relief.

Cas hesitates, “Jack needed angels to rebuild heaven and well the Empty was getting crowded.”

“So he brought you back?”

“Among others.”

“You’ve been back this whole time.”

“Not the whole time.”

“How long?”

“I- I don’t know. Time is different in Heaven.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me. Me or Sam? I thought we were family Cas?!”

He finds himself on his feet. Words of anger coming so much easier than the tenderness he’s been holding near his heart

“We are. But I didn’t want to make things hard.”

“What the fuck does that mean Cas? What the fuck do you mean hard? Do you have any idea-”

Dean stops. He can’t. This is all his wanted for weeks. Months? He’s not sure. Time is different here too. And now Cas is standing in front of him and he just wants to fight.

Cas is staring at him. Cas is so close. Cas said he loved him.

“Why didn’t you come back?”

Cas looks to the ground.

Dean curses, slumps against the wall of the barn. Of course, it’s not what he thought. Why would it be?

“I used to come here often.” Cas’s voice cuts through the silence, gravel deep and rough.

Dean scuffs at the barn floor, “Why?”

“When I was questioning.” he says, “I would come here and I’d look at what you and Bobby had done. The sigils, the bullets, everything. You had no idea what you were facing. I- Heaven, Angels, it was something you couldn’t comprehend. Something so entirely beyond you. And you took your paints and your books and your weapons and you tried so hard to protect yourselves.  You were so scared. And this barn would remind me of that. That no matter what you said, how confident you were, The Plan was more than you and if you couldn’t even comprehend a single angel then what was the worth in listening to you.”

Cas comes and stands beside Dean. A solid space still between them.

“But then, when I was falling… I kept coming here. And looking at this place.  You were so scared. The warding, the weapons, you were just trying to cover up your fear. But it was also your bravery. You knew that this was something bigger than you’d ever seen. Something you couldn’t understand and you were terrified. But that didn’t stop you from trying, from going for it with everything you had because you knew confronting your fear was better than it letting it fester and control you. I was afraid, of everything knew I was feeling. Of falling. But this place reminded me that I couldn’t let that stop me from doing the right thing. Even if I was scared…”

Cas falls quiet. The night air lies stale and still between them. Dean almost wishes it was storming but all is quiet.

“I’m still scared.”

“What are you scared of now?” Dean asks, barely a whisper.

Cas frowns, chews over his words.

“I’m afraid you won’t ask me to stay”

Dean’s eyes met Cas’s and the air becomes electric for a moment.

“What are you afraid of Dean?”

Dean can barely breathe.

“I’m afraid you’ll leave.” He wants to look away but he forces himself to hold Cas’s gaze. “Cas, please stay.”

“I won’t leave Dean.” He says, barely a whisper.

“Good.”

He looks away. He can’t hold that gaze. Doesn’t know what to do with the energy vibrating between them. So he does what he knows, he looks away and tries to brush it off.

“It’s good to have you back Cas.” He says to the wall ahead of him.

He feels a hand on his sleeve. Cas reaching out to him. He turns back to him and suddenly finds himself in a bone crushing hug.

“It’s good to be back.” Cas whispers into his shoulder.

And if Dean holds onto that hug a little longer than he should, if his head turns to breathe in the scent of ozone and that missing storm and home that lingers on Cas, nobody needs to know. If he should really take this moment and kiss the miracle of an angel standing before him but he doesn’t – well, there’ll be another moment he tells himself. There’ll always be another moment.

Cas breaks the hug first, pulls away and Dean almost doesn’t let him. But Cas doesn’t go far. He raises a hand to cup Dean’s face, and he’s got that same look on his face that he had that night.

There’s something Dean should say.

Cas pulls his hand away.

They separate and then they’re in the car and they’re going back to the motel and Sam’s hugging Cas and asking questions and the moment’s gone and Dean can’t stop looking at him but the tugging feeling hasn’t gone. There’s still that sense of grief and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

No. He does know how to fix it. He’s just afraid.

-

They drive straight back to the bunker – back home. They don’t talk much but between the music Sam fills the silence. He calls Eileen who says she’ll meet them when they get back. She’s happy to hear about Cas.

Maybe Dean’s still angry. It’s been three days and he’s barely talked to Cas. It’s better than it was before. He can eat now, he can sleep and every day doesn’t feel like a rusty nail being dug into his gut.

He told Cas to stay but every time he sees him he can’t help but feel that Cas is just itching to leave. He can feel it radiating off him. He left all of heaven and his son to be here. To be with a human who hasn’t even been able to articulate what he wants after this angel gave everything for him.

The third night Sam and Eileen go out for dinner. Sam tries to invite Dean and Cas along in the kitchen over lunch and Dean just gives him a confused look. “No, I don’t want to go on your date Sam.”

Sam shrugs, “Suit yourself.”

Cas comes down to the kitchen after they leave.

“Where’s Sam and Eileen?”

“Went out for dinner.”

“Oh.”

They stand for a moment in the kitchen before Cas goes to leave.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?”

It’s an easy suggestion. Not that he really wants to watch anything. He just doesn’t want Cas to walk out again. Needs some reason to keep him here without actually having to talk about it.

“Ok.” Cas says.

-

They end up on Sam’s Netflix account. So, Dean can snoop and judge more than anything. There’s a half watched terrible looking Netflix original film in his Continue Watching section.

“What the hell Sammy?” Dean says as he hovers over the description.

“Maybe it was Eileen?”

“Hell no, Eileen has much better taste.”

“Was it you then?”

Dean shoots him a stinky look. “No, I have better taste.”

“We should watch it.”

“Really?”

“You’re always insisting I watch “classics” and “good films”. I think we should watch bad things too.”

“Ok.”

They play the film. It’s as terrible as the description suggested. Within five minutes Dean’s cackling at the bad CGI. The dialogue is as clichéd as anything and he’s never seen a man look so stilted while professing his undying love.

Beside him Cas is smiling– almost laughing.

He pauses the movie two acts in.

“I need to take a break.”

“Are we giving up?”

“No, we’re finishing this. I’m just gonna get popcorn.”

He comes back with the popcorn and sits back down next to Cas.

Cas reaches in and takes a handful of popcorn.

“Hey!”

“I thought it was for sharing.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to eat. I thought it was all molecules to you anyway?”

“I like the texture.”

Dean doesn’t know why his cheeks flush at that. He doesn’t know why he sat down so much closer to Cas. Or rather he does know but he’s not sure if it’s the moment yet.

He starts the movie again.

At least it is a moment. For the first time since Cas came back things feel right.

He looks across at Cas, the angel of the lord that stormed that barn twelve years ago, taking rounds of bullets to his chest without flinching, as he shoves popcorn that he can’t even taste properly into his mouth and laughs at this stupid Netflix movie.

A smile crosses his face.

There’s something he should say.

Cas moves to rest his head on the back of the sofa. He’s got a content smile on his face. He looks like he wants to be here.

“I’m afraid you won’t ask me to stay”

“I love you too Cas.”

He barely registers the words coming out of his mouth.

Cas turns to him, the content smile gone from his face.

“Dean?”

“I don’t really know what you meant. And I’m terrified that we both mean two different things but I just need you to know that I’m so glad you’re back and- Cas you mean so much to me and I’ve been such a dick since you got back but I just don’t want you to go. I just want you to stay and I need you to know before I fuck this up anymore that I love you too… I love you Cas.”

The words stream out of him all of a sudden and Cas is staring at him his mouth slightly ajar.

God, did I look this stupid, Dean thinks.

Cas moves his hand like he’s going to do something with it but it’s still filled with popcorn. He looks at it for a moment. Dean pushes the bowl towards him and he puts the popcorn back in.

The moment feels awkward again but thank God Cas seems to be committed.

He cups Dean’s cheek. His fingers are buttery and it’s kind of gross.

“I- I love you too Dean. And I want to stay. I don’t want to go back to heaven, and I haven’t for a long time. I just want to stay here like this… with you.”

“Ok.”

It’s Dean who leans forward, takes the final leap and presses his lips feather soft against Cas’s. He leans awkwardly, hyper aware of not spilling the bowl of popcorn in his lap. Cas shifts closer so that he can properly kiss him. He tastes like popcorn and ozone and Cas.

They break apart but not far. Dean can feel the ghosts of Cas’s smile against his lips and his breath on his cheek.

The moment’s interrupted by a sudden chorus of loud rap from the movie.

They both turn back to the screen briefly.

“Why the hell are they all dressed as carrots?”

“I have no idea.” Cas replies.

He smiles again and looks over to Dean, their noses almost touching. “You do realise this is now going to be our movie.”

Dean’s eyes go wide, “Absolutely the fuck not.”

[foximator-blog]

It took me longer than I meant to, but I finally have all of my Electric Heart AU designs for the Mega man 4 robots done.

Bright man was built to illuminate and oversee jobs that are made dangerous by a lack of light, such as night time construction or underground mining. The bulb on top of his head and his smaller flash light arm use a lot of energy, so Dr. Cossack built a separate battery for his lights rather than letting his primary power core drain out completely. Bright man loves brain exercises and coming up with solutions to problems, which often results in him getting many "Bright ideas". Though these bright ideas happening suddenly often results in many a blinded eye. After Wily kidnapped Kalinka, Cossack installed a buster so that Bright man could help rescue her, unfortunately Wily reprogrammed all of Cossack's robots before the rescue could happen. His element is Light for obvious reasons, and his weakness is Rain flush due to rain messing up electronics.

Toad man is an agricultural robot who aids in the growth of crops during dry seasons by creating artificial rainfall with a specialized nutrient rich liquid solution. He loves his job, and is very knowledgeable and all types of garden plants and crops. Snake woman loves to tease him, which he very much dislikes, so he's often looking for garden slugs he can use to scare her off. He was going to use his jumping ability to rescue Kalinka, but then Wily reprogrammed him and replaced his rainfall solution with a strange acid. His Element is Life, as he was made to help plant growth (and because toads aren't in water as much as frogs are) and his Weakness is Drill bomb.

Drill man is a mining and construction robot built with a highly durable body in case of accidental cave-ins. He loves to work quickly and efficiently, but he lacks proper planning skills. This does lead to accidents as one would imagine, but he once found a hot spring on the job, and he was commended for it. His Drill bombs are already a powerful weapon on their own, so it's no surprise Wily chose to reprogram him. His element is Earth, and his Weakness is Dive missile, as it can easily shoot through his armor.

Built for tomb and cave exploration, Pharoah Man is equipped with highly sensitive camera eyes for dimly lit environments, a special Tutankhaman mask for warding off curses, and the ability to produce miniature suns so he can charge his solar power core while underground or deep in a tomb. Despite being made for archeology, he takes each expedition seriously and takes great care not to desecrate graves. While initially a Fire type when built, he somehow gained the ability to levitate and teleport after going on several expeditions, and his suns started to take a more unnatural color. According to Pharoah Man, these abilities are "gifts from the spirits" and this results in his Undead typing. He is the robot besides Skull woman closest to Kalinka, and he was ready to use his supernatural powers to rescue her, but then Wily intervened and reprogrammed him. Because of his sensitive camera eyes, his Weakness is Flash stopper.

Dust man is a clumsy robot who was built for cleaning and transporting garbage, and he does so by sucking it up into the vacuum duct on his head... which is his mouth oddly enough... He has a big appetite, and is a compulsive cleaner, so it's often hard for him to stop eating. His mostly trash based diet results in bad breath, which is something he hates to have pointed out, and his clumsiness often results in scratches or dents he patches up with duct tape. Besides being able to gather and shoot big clumps of garbage from his main duct, he is also able to weaponize and shoot smaller bits from his buster. His element is Air, since vacuums suck things in and shoot things out via Air pressure, and his Weakness is Ring boomerang, as it jams his vacuum duct and causes him to choke a bit. The ring boomerang is also fairly sharp.

Built for Marine exploration and fishing, Dive man is a submarine robot with the disposition of a naval officer, which is why he hates Pirate Man. Through the power of water pressure, he can propel himself both forward and backwards through water, or launch his Dive missile. Though impressive and environmentally friendly, this also has a flaw that causes him to spin uncontrollably and shoot forward quickly... which doesn't bode well for Dive man as he sometimes suffers from sea sickness. Despite how painful this flaw is, Wily would weaponize it when reprogramming Dive man anyway. Obviously his element is Water, and his Weakness is Skull barrier... since he's a robot focused on offense, it's good to have a strong defense, though his Weakness may also be a reference to sailor superstition surrounding skulls or spirits.

When Wily kidnapped Kalinka and blackmailed Cossack, Wily forced the good scientist to build two more robots solely for fighting Mega man, and he gave Cossack two rough concepts to work off of. One was for a buff male blade robot... but instead of building that, Cossack built a robot with Ring shaped boomerangs that would be hard to shoot down, and made her a female simply to spite Wily. Ring woman is the most competitive of the two combat oriented robots, and after Mega man stopped Wily and Proto man saved Kalinka, Ring and Skull would go on to become body guards for the Cossack family. Ring woman loves to practice gymnastics and ply ring toss, but she hates kids who aren't Kalinka... so she stays at Cossack's side while Skull takes Kalinka to school. Her element is Magic, as she technically has a toy theme, though some people think her theme is Space (Magic includes both), and her weakness is Pharoah shot, most likely in reference to gold being a metal with a low melting point.

Alongside the buff blade bot, Wily also had another rough concept, but the other was for an utterly terrifying and destructive robot built in the likeness of Wily's Doc robots. Not wanting to create something so hideous and destructive, Cossack Built a defensive guardian spirit robot instead in the form of Skull woman. Based on heavy defense, Skull woman's primary weapon is a shield, and she takes her role as Kalinka's body guard very seriously. It's also rumored that Skull woman's unmasked face looks similar to that of a lost loved one... resulting in Skull woman developing an even closer bond with her family. She loves to watch horror movies, but hates Dust man's breath and Shade man's singing. Her element is Undead, and her weakness is Dust cluster, in reference to bones decaying at a much faster rate when exposed to Air and dust. It's also worth noting her Skull barrier causes her systems to overheat if she keeps it up for too long, and the Dust cluster clogs up the exhaust ports she uses to cool down.

In the original version of Mega man 4, Ring man is only built to fight Mega man, and not to be a detective like he was in Mega mix. That felt like something that would come later in the line, which is why I moved Ring in between Dive and Skull.

[translations-by-aiimee]

Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 2

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 - Ghost Encounter

Before that incident occurred, Lin Yan didn't believe that there were ghosts in the world. He studied history during his undergrad and continued straight into doing his master's in archaeology. When he was on an expedition with his professor, he picked up the bones of a dead body and plucked a jade cicada from the mouth of a mummified body. Ghost stories were always something joked about in their dormitories. If something happened to people after they died, then the world would know about it. For example, if someone picked up the imperial blue bowl of the emperor, the old man would notice and stand up, shouting: "That's mine!" How interesting.

The dead should just let the dust from the past settle and stay quiet.

Lin Yan had just finished dinner when things changed. He didn't live in the school dormitories. He had moved into the apartment his parents had set aside for him when he got married because of the fights his old roommates in the dorms had with their in-laws on the phone. This apartment was much closer to the school, and he had been living alone since then. He cooks alone, plays games alone, and travels halfway across the city to visit his parents on the weekends. Lin Yan is one of the tens of thousands of small researchers in dozens of colleges and universities in this city. If he makes great accomplishments, his future will be bright, but if he's average, then he will be lost in the crowd.

That day, he made himself Fried Sauce Noodles. Once the minced meat was boiled, it was mixed into the sweet stir-fry noodle sauce. The noodles were drained out of the pan, topped with the sauce, and it was delicious. Lin Yan took the bowl and sat in front of the computer, watching "My Old Memories of Old Beijing" and eating the noodles.

The air was humid and stuffy in the early summer weather. Suddenly, halfway through the movie, a clap of thunder rang out outside. It didn't take long for large raindrops to pour down, and the thin lines of water on the window glass became a curtain of rain, pattering against the windows.

Lin Yan was busy turning off the video. Before his computer had fully shut off, a bolt of lightning flashed across the night sky. With a snap, the computer went black.

Afraid that something might happen, Lin Yan complained and unplugged the computer from the socket. He used a desktop computer specially equipped for 3D restoration renderings of cultural relics. As soon as the power came back after the thunderstorm had passed, he would have to submit a repair request.

Tomorrow, he'd have to trouble Yin Zhou to repair the machine again.

Suddenly, a strange feeling washed over him.

Cold, inexplicably cold, sending a shiver up his spine.

He didn't know when the temperature of the room started to drop. He didn't even notice it while he was watching the movie. Now it feels like he was inside an ice cave. The cold is coming out from all corners and enveloping his body. The sweat on his body turning cold, his t-shirt sticking to his back.

Lin Yan vigorously wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans, thinking about how the weather must be cooling down because of the rain, and decided to get up to find a long-sleeved shirt. Before he could get up, his eyes glanced at the computer screen and nervously sat back down.

With the lights on in the room, the situation in the room was clearly reflected on the dark computer screen. In front of the screen was Lin Yan's face, and behind him was the window, which opened wide inward, and the curtains were swept around by the wind. It was the "person" standing in front of the curtain that made Lin Yan frozen from head to toe.

That's not it; it was more like the shape of a person - a person wearing a strange hat.

Lin Yan stared blankly at the things on the screen, a sense of panic slowly creeping up his spine.

It must have been a clothes hanger that he forgot to move, there's no need to jump to conclusions. Lin Yan pulled at the corner of his clothes, took a deep breath, and swung his head around.

Nothing was there. Everything in the house looked normal. The only difference was that the raindrops were coming even larger, the rainwater twisting into small streams on the glass and flowing down.

His suspenseful heart began to calm down.

No! Lin Yan went numb all of a sudden. Not only was there no one there, but the windows were clearly locked, and the curtains were tightly tied on both sides. How could they be blown by the wind? What he saw in the reflection on the screen just now. . . what was going on?

An illusion! It must be an illusion! Lin Yan clenched his jaw. He couldn't help but pinch himself to keep himself sane.

There was a small electric crackle. The power went out, and the whole room fell into silent darkness.

Almost at the same time, the indicator light of the computer monitor suddenly flickered. The two small red lights looked like blinking eyes, accompanied by the squeaking sound of the whirring motors. The screen that was in a completely power-off state glowed green as if the screen saver had been switched. It's like a procedure.

No. . . Wasn't there a power outage? Lin Yan was completely speechless. His whole body was pushed back into the chair by the sudden and weird atmosphere. Then the screen flashed and, as if someone was typing, large characters appeared one after the other on the screen, piercingly red.

"The first day of the month of Wushen; the death date is approaching."

Another clap of thunder boomed outside the window.

Lin Yan swallowed hard and stared at the line of words on the screen. He tried his best to calm himself down, but his mind went blank.

It must be. . . It must be Yin Zhou pranking him.

He was a professional programmer and technical expert. Messing with the program to mess up the power grid. It must be boring to try and scare yourself or something.

"The first day of the month of Wushen; the death date is approaching."

The line of red letters flashed on the screen twice and disappeared. The computer then powered back off. Only Lin Yan's heavy breathing remained in the dark room. He took out his cell phone from his pant pocket and tried to call Yin Zhou. Before he pressed the call button, there was a heavy and repetitive tapping on the windowpane.

"Taptaptap. . . taptaptap"

He couldn't see anything in the heavy curtain of rain.

Lin Yan suddenly jumped up and leaned against the computer desk, staring out the window. This. . . this was the twelfth floor, what could be knocking on the window?

"Taptaptap. . . taptaptap"

The knocking increased as if someone were waiting impatiently.

Materialists couldn't stand immediate losses. Besides, creatures always have the instinct to avoid danger. The atmosphere was so strange. Lin Yan grabbed the car keys from his pocket and rushed out of the house without looking back.

The rain fell harder and faster, and the normally bustling three-ring road was empty. There was only the heavy rain curtains and thick fog. Lin Yan turned on his headlights lights all the way. He hoped to find an exit that was bustling with life and filled with a large crowd. In one night, his normal life was completely messed up. There was no signal from his cell phone and no signal from the radio. He seemed to be isolated in a corner of the world and was just driving around endlessly.

Lin Yan glanced at the fuel gauge. He was running out of fuel as he went further down the road, but he had not found the exit of the overpass. He was a native to this country and yet he was trapped in the city that he had been living in for 22 years. Just saying it was absurd enough to make anyone laugh.

The low-beam light couldn't illuminate the road very far. Under the warm yellow light, only the dense lines of rain could be seen falling diagonally, washing down his windshield. There was a wide road in front of him, turn after turn. There were no people, no cars, and even the sound of the GPS reporting how many kilometres were left was inaudible and his speed on the speedometer was barely visible. Lin Yan looked straight ahead, for fear of missing any fork in the road.

After travelling on the highway for nearly three hours, Lin Yan finally began to panic after passing the IKEA billboard multiple times over.

A deep thought came to mind.

The ghost was making him go around in circles.

The arrow on his fuel gauge was almost at 'empty'. Lin Yan slowed down. He thought he couldn't keep driving forward. Obviously, there was a force trying to stop him. What he should do is to sort out his thoughts and find a solution instead of continuing to drive around aimlessly. He didn't dare think about what would happen if he ran out of fuel.

Lin Yan pulled the car over, leaving only his hazard lights on, then sat in the car and began to think about what happened at night.

Power outages, computers that suddenly freaked out, strange reflections.

The first thing that came to mind was that someone was playing a prank, but he immediately denied it. If it was just the problem with his computer, he might still suspect the unreliable programmer Yin Zhou, but the knocking on the window, preventing him from getting off the highway, and blocking his mobile and radio signals; none of that was this guy's style. Lin Yan searched his mind for a long time to find a candidate that might want to scare a friend like this, but he came up with nothing.

He himself was a very good person. He was a good student from elementary straight through his master's. Apart from skipping classes to play Warcraft, and handing notes to his classmates during an exam, he basically had no blips on his record. He has never even played any tricks on girls, let alone his immediate friend group. Even if someone wanted to play a prank on someone as revenge, that wasn't how Lin Yan handled things.

Lin Yan was a person who, even when he ate toothpaste and cookies on April Fool's Day, still believed that he was just eating something mint-flavoured. To understand what was going on, Lin Yan could only find the solution by going through his process of elimination. By the time he can go through his hilariously incompetent system of thinking, he has probably already vomited up three litres of blood.

Lin Yan rubbed his temples and thought hard. Someone was threatening him in an inexplicable way, or was outright declaring war.

Lin Yan turned on the cell phone's calendar and entered the date of the first day of the Wushan month. The small square immediately jumped to the corresponding date: July 15 and the gates of hell would be wide open.

Something is wrong, Lin Yan thought.

When he looked up again, there was suddenly something that hadn't been there before that appeared in front of his car.

A figure stood near the side of the road as the heavy rain poured down. The figure didn't seem to notice Lin Yan was there, neither holding an umbrella nor wearing a raincoat, quietly standing with his head held down under the dim street lamp. The fog everywhere made Lin Yan unable to see his appearance. He could only make out that it was tall and he was wearing weird, oversized clothes. The caring Lin Yan wanted to offer the figure a ride. Even though he can't really protect himself right now, but he can at least provide some shelter from the rain.

An empty highway, rainy night, a strange individual on the side of the road, this unfortunate picture seemed suspicious at first, but Lin Yan saw something a little more depressing.

The figure seemed. . . very lonely, like waiting for a resolution that will never come.

Lin Yan re-started the car after making sure all the doors were locked, and slowly slid forward along the roadside, thinking that after being trapped in this endless loop for so long anyway, it was more useful to see if this person might be able to help him break the cycle.

When he was less than ten metres away from the person, Lin Yan suddenly froze as though a gong went off beside his ear. He finally realized why he felt there was something wrong with this figure. This person had no shadow.

The streetlamp was casting light on this person, but there was no shadow at his feet. The place where the shadow should have been was just the shape of the streetlamp reflected in the puddle, which was shaken by the continuously falling rain, rippling and disturbing the surface of the water.

Lin Yan knew what he had encountered almost instantly.

He was covered in a cold sweat, he couldn't keep a grip on the steering wheel because of his clammy palms. There was a bitter taste in his mouth. He slammed his foot on the accelerator, not caring how much fuel he had left. He didn't even care if there was any road ahead, he just knew subconsciously that he had to get away.

40km, 60km, 80km, 90km. . .

Suddenly a car sped out in front of him. Lin Yan was stunned, and instinctively stepped on the brakes and jerked the steering wheel to the left!

"Squeel--" After the extremely sharp and piercing sound, the front bumper Lin Yan's Audi A4 was just a few centimetres away from the Buick's back bumper as he brushed past it. Immediately after, Lin Yan drove into the bushes and the car shook before getting stuck. After it stopped shaking, the windshield was covered with holly leaves.

The car had almost been totalled.

Lin Yan lay on the steering wheel, panting heavily, his whole body was frozen.

"Knockknockknock." Something harshly knocked against the car window

Lin Yan jumped nervously and stared at the glass in horror. When he could see the face of a man, he let out a long sigh, and then rolled down the car window.

"Who the hell taught you how to drive? If you were so desperate to die, just tell me and I'll beat you to death!"

A series of harsh curses about his ancestors gave Lin Yan a sense of joy, bringing him back to reality. He almost rushed out and hugged the Buick driver.

"No. . . I'm sorry, I've been on this highway for three hours. I just found my way. I was a little excited, sorry, sorry."

Lin Yan wasn't paying attention to what the other driver said, and couldn't help smiling bitterly since the driver must really consider him an idiot.

The Buick driver stared at Lin Yan for a while, then suddenly stopped the curse, and muttered, "You look like you've seen a ghost." He took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and handed one to Lin Yan: "Did you come across something weird? Smoke a cigarette to calm your nerves. You should bring out a protection charm next time. We all have strange experiences at night every now and again."

Lin Yan got out of the car, and the driver lit the cigarette for Lin Yan. The two stood side by side on the roadside. Strangely, cars began whizzing by on the road. There were rows of shops and tall buildings lit up on both sides of the street where there was originally only fog and dark shadows. Even the rain from earlier had stopped.

Lin Yan took a puff of cigarettes and calmed down, and said in surprise: "Have we met before?"

The driver smiled indifferently: "It often happens, especially in places with a lot of accidents. The more deadly the accident, the more evil will be left behind."

Lin Yan nodded. He didn't know how much his materialistic worldview changed from this information.

After sending the driver away, Lin Yan whipped the sweat off his forehead and took out his phone to check the time. The screen showed two text messages and three missed calls, one every half an hour on average within the past two hours. Lin Yan opened his settings; the phone wasn't muted, the volume wasn't very loud but it was enough from him to hear it. It confirmed that the signal had been blocked this whole time.

Message 1: "Will you come out for a drink? The regular place."

Message 2: "What are you doing? Answer the phone!"

Both the sender and the caller were Yin Zhou.

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