#it might have taken far too long but I'm getting into the spirit of things now

[zhivaoverdrive]

Filling the Void Breast Expansion and Butt Expansion via Saline Expander Implants.

But you've seen the image, too late.

Each image from the poster wall is available in full on the extras gallery, some with their own small stories.

Have fun.

----- As I pushed open the door, my eyes widened in horror. Lani lay sprawled across her bed, her body resembling a collection of medicine balls that had been inflated one too many times. Her breasts hung from her chest like overfilled water balloons, threatening to burst at any moment. 

The soft light cast by the lamp on her nightstand danced across her skin, highlighting every vein and crease as if trying to accentuate the sheer magnitude of her transformation. The implants themselves seemed to be straining against Lani's skin, like four enormous balloons about to burst at any moment.

Lani's eyes snapped towards mine, wide with surprise and shame. She looked guilty, her face flushed like a person who'd just been caught cheating. Her gaze darted around the room as if searching for a way to make this situation disappear, but the evidence was undeniable. It was like trying to hide a skyscraper behind a curtain – impossible.

I took in the scene: her already-enormous frame now straining against the seams of reality; empty saline solution bottles littering the room like discarded confetti; and Lani's body... altered, distended by the relentless stream of liquid she'd forced into it. The four orbs of saline inside her seemed to be straining against their containment, as if desperate to escape were it not for Lani's stretched skin holding on with all its might.

"It's not that big of a deal," she said, her voice laced with justification. "I'm fine. Just... just this little bit more..."

I took a deep breath before speaking. "Lani, I know we agreed monthly would be the limit," I reminded her gently.  "But you know how close you came to... complications. And yet here you are again, doing it without supervision."

Lani looked at me pleadingly, her eyes welling up with tears. "Please," she whispered, the air thickening with shame and desperation.

The shame and desperation, struggled to come to terms with being caught. AGAIN.

On one hand, I was impressed by her willingness to take control of her body and push the boundaries of what society considers "OK".

But I was also worried about how far she was taking things. Like, expanders... that's some next-level stuff.

And not just that - Lani had taken her body modification game to a whole new level by having expanders in her butt as well.

I couldn't help but wonder what kind of discomfort she must be going through with those things implanted in her backside. And yet...part of me couldn't help but admire her spirit.

I get that Lani wanted to change herself, but this was just crazy. "You're not even trying to hide what you're doing," I said, shaking my head in amazement. "You're trying to turn yourself into a human balloon or something!"

But as soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I had spoken too bluntly.

"You're using expanders like they're some kind of...I don't know, saline-filled superpower or something!" I said, trying to lighten my tone.

"I just need this one more time," she said quietly, her voice filled with reverence.  "I promise I'll slow down after this. It's not like..."

She trailed off, looking down at the floor as if embarrassed by her own words. But that did not last long.

Lani gazed up at the posters on her wall. Her gaze lingered on the statuesque figures, their bodies seemingly defying gravity itself - their breasts rose up from their chests like mountains, butts jutted out far behind them.

"Look at them," Lani said quietly, her voice filled with awe and longing. "They're doing it... Just look at them - so many people adore them, that one's been on TV!"

As Lani admired these perfect forms of femininity, the competing idea inside of her believed she was still the waifish girl she'd been years ago stewed. Trapped between two conflicting realities unable to be reconciled.

"And honestly, what's another litre of saline when you're already..."

I didn't push her for more. Another unnecessary question. A different tack was in order.

"Lani, baby," I said carefully,

"You've never removed ANY saline before. I'm not even exactly sure if we can. What if this is a one-way process without going back to the doctor..."

Her eyes dropped, and she nodded slowly. "I know, but what's the worst that could happen? You'll still l-" "Ah," I interrupted her, trying to sound more reassuring than concerned. "The weight of... well, let me ask you this: how much saline are we talking about here?"

Lani looked down at her chest, a sheepish expression spreading across her face. "I've got 10 litres in each boob.."

My eyes widened in shock. Ten litres per implant? That was... that was a lot of saline. A lot more than last time.

"And?" I prompted, trying to keep my tone light despite the gravity of the situation.

Lani faltered for a moment before she spoke up again. "And... um... well, I might have also exceeded 10 litres in each butt cheek."

My jaw dropped. She couldn't be serious. Could she?

"Lani," I said softly, trying to keep my tone gentle despite the shock and concern I was feeling. "You're telling me that you've got a total of 40,000cc saline forced in your body?"

Lani nodded sheepishly, her face flushing with embarrassment.

I glanced at Lani's ass and saw the telltale signs of strain: deep creases in her skin, fine lines tracing the contours of each implant, and an eerie sheen that hinted at stretchmarks. Her veins stood out like blue highways, pulsing with effort as they struggled to deliver oxygen to her skin.

"The weight of this much saline is crushing you," I said firmly. "You've already been struggling with everyday tasks for months now. You're going to continue to struggle even more as time goes on. Your body simply can't keep up."

Lani's gaze faltered as she tried to consider the consequences of her actions.

"What does the future hold?" I continued. "Don't even get me started on trying to cook dinner or do laundry. You're being short-sighted! What happens when you can't even get out of bed in the morning?"

The silence between us grew thick with unspoken understanding – a tacit agreement that more caution was needed, but also a recognition that we were both too afraid to seek help.

She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving mine.

"You're right," she said quietly. "I'll need you".

[ratstuckinamarble]

I haven't had the time to do anything really halloweeny this year, but I've got some older projects I never shared so... Why not?

I present: my ring holder (plus bracelets).

I made the hand out of polymer clay instead of learning how to make a mold or something cause past me was into suffering apparently (jk I just felt like making a hand. Truth be told it was good practice). Standard procedure, inside is a wire skeleton surrounded by aluminium foil, and then I globbed clay on there and shaped it until it looked right. Which took forever.

This was several years ago now so I could do a better job these days, but I still like it. It's a fun spooky prop with that cauldron I made for it (that's just craft foam. Paint it black, throw metallic paint on top and you're golden).

I actually only started using it for jewelry after my cat threw it on the floor... It hides the cracks.

[thedarlingdearestdead]

The Jedi Way:

A quick oneshot for Anakin Skywalker! Might do a pt2 depending... Ok I did - here it is.

Summary: Anakin questions the war and his place in it, you interrupt him and try to calm him down, it does not work, he just gets wound up...

Warnings: MATURE, almost smut, dub!con kiss, angst, jedi heresy, etc.

Word count: 1,070

Anakin wasn't quite sure how he had ended up here, but he wasn't upset about it. For the first time in a long time, the world had gone quiet, and he relished the feeling. It was far too often these days that the Force became too loud for him to concentrate, for him to function. He knew it was becoming a problem but wasn't sure how to fix it. He also wasn't willing to think about it now, not when he had finally gotten some peace.

Rain was falling outside of the windows at the Jedi Temple where Anakin had returned just days before. He hadn't yet been assigned another mission, and he hadn't yet asked either. His head still buzzed with energy and fire from the days before; he'd been finding it hard to breathe, hard to focus. It was by accident that he arrived at the edge of the gardens, looking out of the large window at the end of the pavilion. He acknowledged that it might have been a habit from his days as a Padawan.

His master was always keen on this room, always brought Anakin here to practice meditating. The humidity was slightly comforting to Anakin in its warmth.

Perhaps he should try meditating. Anakin was usually so restless, but recently, he just felt tired. Tired of the war.

"Anakin?"

Of course, it was you; you always had the ability to find him. Anakin turned with a small smile on his face. "Where did you come from?"

"Master Plo and I just landed; he is doing a debrief with the Council, and, I fear, picking up another mission."

"So you're on a layover?"

"Practically. What are you still doing here? I thought the Hoth offensive ended days ago?"

He looked down at his hand; the blurry memory of blood and ash turned them red and marked in his mind. He cringed slightly and pocketed his hands in his cloak. "Yeah, well, I'm sure I'll be off again soon too."

His shoulders were uncharacteristically slumped. It had been a while since you had seen your childhood friend but surely this change in demeanour was wrought by something… 

“Anakin, what's wrong?” 

In that moment, he made a conscious choice: to tell the truth. Maybe you would understand. If any one could… ”It’s been a long war."

You reached across to him and grabbed his hand, standing beside him much closer and staring out of the window into the storm. Battle fatigue was common, you had seen it in many of your clone forces in the past months. You sighed and attempted to reassure him, to give him some of your spirit and strength, whatever remained you would share with him. 

"I know you're tired—"

"I'm not tired.” His voice was stony, stubborn, frustrated.

"I know the last few trips have been hard—"

"It's not just the last few trips."

"I know."

"Do you? I thought you would but now I wonder. How can you, and I, and everyone else know and let it continue… Why are you asking me questions? It is so obvious what is wrong.” Anakin's voice grew in volume as he continued, "The Jedi Council—"

"Anakin, stop talking."

"No, I have to. I have to speak. How can you not? How can you stand there and look at me like I'm crazy? I'm not crazy. You have to know this has gone too far." He was looking down at you now, almost challenging. He edged toward you, and you shuffled backward through reflex. “Something has to be done, some decisive action taken. There is a reason the war is continuing for so long, it isn’t an accident.”

"Anakin, you scare me sometimes. The things you say…"

Anxiety now flushed through Anakin's system. A horrible icy cold of misunderstanding, because you didn't get it. You were far too caught up in the Council's propaganda, you hadn't experienced the things that he had.

"What about the things I do? All I want is for the council to listen, to think about what I say. They exclude me but have I done anything wrong?" He was expectant, he was insistent. 

"Not yet. But you’re going somewhere dangerous. And there are some lines you should not cross.”

And suddenly, you weren't talking about the war. You were talking about the air between your bodies, the unlit spark, the quiet buzz which surrounded the two of you whenever you were alone.

He searched your eyes for a minute, angry and determined to make you see. Make you realise. And suddenly, he kissed you. His hand immediately came up to grip your face, pull you toward him. His lips were hot and all-consuming in their hunger. It took a moment for your mind to awaken to your reality, and you shoved him away violently.

"What do you think you're doing!?”

His lips were red and swollen, so were yours, you assumed. He didn't seem the slightest bit put out by your rejection.

"I'm doing what I have to do to make you understand. Don't tell me you've never thought of it; I know you have. I've felt it."

You bristled and blushed, ”I'm sure I don't know what you mean. Anakin, please…"

"Say that again." Now he moved back toward you with a dangerous, devilish look in his eye, backing you up against the window as you unsteadily attempted to push him off. One meek hand rested on his chest.

"It isn't the Jedi way…"

You were looking down at your fingers splayed on his chest in fickle protestation. His beautiful muscled chest.

"Let me teach you the Jedi way.”

As Anakin's lips hovered tantalisingly close to yours, a storm of emotions raged within you. Your heart pounded, and you felt a heat rise in your cheeks. The rain outside the window intensified, matching the tumultuous uncertainty inside the pavilion.

You took a deep breath and tried to gather your thoughts. Anakin's persistent advances had caught you off guard, but you couldn't deny the undeniable attraction that had simmered beneath the surface for years. The unspoken tension between you and Anakin, your fellow Jedi, had grown to a breaking point.

His intense gaze bore into your eyes, demanding a response. The connection between you two, an unspoken bond formed through countless missions and shared experiences, had reached a pivotal moment.

He leaned in again and you couldn’t help but to surrender. 

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 37: Alexander's Housekeeper

Masterlist > Next

September 1925

TW: Captivity, mind control, mentions of abuse and murder

Just as Oliver had feared on his first night, it was far too easy to get used to living in a vampire's manor.

He'd spent the past few nights utterly engrossed in the books Alexander had picked out for him, primers on the supernatural world and its history. Oliver had always had a fascination for material like this, for horror stories and medieval descriptions of witchcraft and pictures of fairies at the bottoms of gardens, but he'd logically seen it all as just entertaining curiosities. Now he wanted to devour everything related to the strange new world he'd found himself in.

Naturally, he was focusing on information about vampires -- their strengths and weaknesses, their culture and habits. He learned that only blood taken fresh from live humans could truly sustain them -- bottled blood of the sort found in his master's icebox was at best a temporary salve to hunger, and animal blood did very little. It also was clear that very few vampires held moral objections to taking thralls. At least according to the vampiric author of the book he was reading, any vampire of means would have a handful of them in the household, usually taking the roles of servants and pets.

He remembered what Alexander had said in the auction house, that it had been months since he'd had a fresh human. If he were speaking the truth, he must have been starving and weak. That did track -- he had looked so utterly exhausted and spent when Oliver had arrived, and acted so much like a starving man when he'd fed. And now that he had fed, he was very obviously healthier and in better spirits.

The strange part was that a vampire that clearly had so much wealth went so long without sufficient blood.  His master had remarked several times now that he hadn't been prepared to take a thrall, and that Oliver's situation had forced his hand. Why not, though? If moral considerations and money were clearly no object, what reason did he have for depriving himself? Given his power, why hadn't he taken Oliver from his bookshop the moment he decided he wanted him?

And what had happened to his previous thralls?

Perhaps he might get a chance to ask his master himself.

"Well, now, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

Oliver whipped around to see a complete stranger, a curly-haired man with a dusty blouse and a curious expression. He was grinning and baring her fangs. Oliver's heart raced -- what was another vampire doing here? Did his master know? He must, or so Oliver hoped, but he couldn't help but shrink himself against the shelves in fear.

"What a rich morsel Lord Alexander's found. Not every day I come across a thrall like you," he said, putting an arm on the shelves next to Oliver, blocking his means of escape. "Wonder if the lord of the house would mind me taking a taste."

"Please don't, sir," he said. Being fed on by his master was one thing, being fed on by a strange vampire with unknown intentions was quite another. "I think my Master -- I don't think you should --"

He laughed, loud and long, and backed off. "You know I'm just yanking your chain, right? I'm not going to eat you. Lord Alexander would fire me on the spot, if he didn't ram a stake straight through my heart."

Oliver let out his anxious breath as he remembered who this person must be, the vampire housekeeper that Alexander had mentioned. "So -- you're not going to --"

"I'm Kenny. I keep the place tidy and do the lord's laundry and such. And it looks like I'll be cleaning up for his pretty little thrall, now," he said, and Oliver wasn't sure how he felt about that designation. "Honestly, it's about time he got a new one. Whoever heard of a vampire lord who doesn't have any thrall? I think he was even drinking bottled blood."

"That's... bad, right, sir?"

"I mean... I drink bottled blood a lot, yeah, but that's because I've only been a vampire for a few years and I'm poor as dirt. Can't afford a fancy thrall, too much of a coward to go get my own and risk hunters. At least bottled blood sates the urge for a little bit," he said. "If I were a rich lord, I'd have a whole mansion full of thralls at my beck and call. A different flavor of blood for every day of the week, and they'd all be attractive, too."

"So do you know what happened to Master's last thrall, sir?" Oliver asked, before Kenny lost himself in his fantasy world, seizing on the opportunity to get some of his questions answered.

"Oh, yeah, Henry? Awful thing. Got killed by a jealous vampire, from what I heard." He leaned in a little too close to Oliver. "I assume that vampire's dead now. Lord Alexander's not a vampire I'd like to cross. Not a bad boss, though."

"How long have you --"

"I see you've met my new thrall," said a deep voice from behind Kenny.  "I hope you understand that his blood is not part of your compensation."

Alexander was barely taller than Kenny, and significantly scrawnier, but Kenny still was immediately cowed. "I'm not harming a hair on his delicious little head, sir," he said, bowing meekly. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"See that you don't. And refrain from terrorizing him as well, in the future."

"Yes, sir."

"And make sure you do a thorough job of cleaning the main bed and bath on the second floor from now on, and do any laundry left out for you. I won't have my thrall living in squalor."

"Yes, sir, understood."

"...I'll increase your pay, to compensate for the additional time."

"Oh, thank you, sir," said Kenny, his face lighting up. "Between rent and saving up for a thrall of my own, I can always use the money. I'll go clean the new thrall's quarters right away, sir." 

He scurried away, and Alexander fell sideways into an overstuffed leather couch. "Are you doing well this evening, Oliver?"

Any of Oliver's unease melted away in his master's comforting presence. "I feel very well, sir. How are you? Is there any way I can be of service?" 

His master's smile was relaxed, and he looked so much more at ease than Oliver had ever remembered, even when he was patronizing the bookshop. "Not at all, you're doing quite enough, and I hate to interrupt your reading," he said. "But if you don't mind, I would appreciate your company by the fire. The nights are starting to grow chill, and it's quite agreeable to have one's thrall near."

"Yes, sir," said Oliver eagerly, sitting next to Alexander on the couch, and feeling a soft thrill as his master beckoned him closer, close enough that they were brushing up against each other. His master gently pet his hair before cracking open a book and settling in to read.

Oliver picked up his own book, relaxing with the warm fire and the proximity of his master. A perfect scene of contentment. 

Except for the one thing that had been worrying him and stealing his focus...

His master did seem like he was in a good mood. This might be a good time to press him.

"Excuse me, sir," said Oliver, "I don't mean to interrupt your reading, but could I ask you a question?"

Alexander's eyebrows raised, and the look on his face suggested that Oliver's request was about to be denied. "Very well," he said, after a long moment. "But I might advise against asking questions if you suspect you won't like the answers."

Oliver felt a small twist, a spark. "With all respect, Master, I prefer to know the truth regardless."

"That's admirable. Truly," said Alexander, looking surprised. "Lily really did do a fine job with you -- I appreciate that you can push back. I've been lacking that, lately. Too far up in my own head. She'd put it in much more vulgar terms, of course." He sat up. "Ask, then, but understand that many things are better kept private."

Oliver felt relieved that they had an understanding of sorts. "What happened to your last thrall, sir?" he said bluntly.

Alexander let out a sharp laugh. "Of course that's the first thing you'd ask. I can't say I blame you. I'd want to know the same in your shoes." He sat in silent thought for a moment. "He was killed by a vampire."

His heart pounded. "Why, sir?"

"It was the doing of my sire. Most of the misfortune that befalls me is," Alexander said. "I haven't been eager to have this conversation, but you should know about him."

Despite his curiosity, Oliver was getting the feeling once more that he was in over his head.

Previous >> Masterlist >> Next

The Bookseller parts have been getting longer and longer, so I've been splitting them up so I can return to a more regular posting schedule. 1-2K words a week was possible, 3-4K words a week was pushing it. Hopefully I'll be able to post a part a week along with asks and side stories!

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader

[warrior-cats-rewritten]

sorry to spam you, but. what happens with scourge in your rewrite? he’s my favorite <3

Please, don't ever apologize for sending lots of asks! I love answering them and they can help me think of things I hadn't thought about before, or flesh an arc out. Send as many as you want, all of you!

Anyways, Scourge, the literal scourge of my brain, because I've had to rewrite him 3 different times.

This little guy has been reworked SO much. The first was to tell the story of a downfall, how sometimes people become worse than the people who hurt them, and pay for it, but showing that there was still 'Tiny' in there, having The Rise Of Scourge end with his spirit, now back to being Tiny, reuniting with Quince, while his older self faded away.

I... Hated the vibe. And I'm probably gonna save THAT kind of ending for someone else...

I then changed it to be somewhat more like Better Bones, but with Scourge remaining leader of Bloodclan.... But that also doesn't line up with the themes of Graystripe's Clan and Ravenpaw's Path, where Fury and Neo Bloodclan come into play.

I didn't wanna kill him. I didn't want him to join Thunderclan. I didn't want him to stay in Bloodclan....

Then, it hit me.

So... Meet the new Scourge. He can say the F word.

Scourge

His story is one about coming back from the brink of no return.

Firestar has noticed something about Scourge. The fur around his neck has rubbed off, his voice is brittle, swallowing is so difficult that he drools a bit, his breathing is shallow, and he's... Painfully underweight. Now, aside from the terrifying thought that is "how strong would this guy be if he WAS properly nourished?", he realizes that even if Scourge manages to make it through this battle, he will most likely not make it to next season.

In a flash, Firestar leaps onto Scourge's back, and sinks his teeth into his scruff and collar. Just like his new deputy Longtail did to him, he begins to pull, hoping and praying that Starclan will grant another miracle.

The collar snaps, just as Scourge is about to pass out, he takes in his first deep breath in ages. Firestar pays for it with his first life.

Swiftpaw, now posthumously named Swiftclaw, is chosen as his first life to lose. He feels the pain and terror and rage and desperation that Swiftclaw did, but he also puts pieces together. Why did this happen? The real why. Not just the dogs getting a taste for cat. Not Tigerstar's seemingly unending thirst for power. Before all that.

This problem is the fault of the Clans. Churning out radicalized youths who will hurt others because of the instilled belief that Might Makes Right. Sure, Scourge has taken things too far, and seems hellbent on revenge, but the seeds of this bloody battle were planted on Clan Land.

Blackfoot, Brokenstar, Leopardstar, Mistfang, Darkstripe, Longtail, even Crookedstar and Nightstar have all fallen victim to this belief at one point of another. Tigerstar was not made in a vacuum. This kind of "kill or be killed" mentality is not making the Clans strong, it is getting cats killed.

He sees another vision of himself fighting Scourge, killing him. But his sight flickers, and it makes him sick. Scourge's build is so much like Princess. His eyes the same shade of blue that Cloudtail has. He sees his own loved ones in the one he is fighting. He is sinking his teeth and claws into his own Kin.

And then, finally, he sees the vision of Tigerpaw being goaded by Thistleclaw to beat Tiny. Then Thistlepaw being rewarded by Adderfang for sparring with a Riverclan apprentice and tearing their ear. Adderfang charging into battle alongside his father, too eager to take a life from Heatherstar Heatherstep. Tigerclaw berating Darkpaw for failing a training exercise. Darkstripe getting his new apprentice Longpaw to eat prey instead of giving it to the sick elder... The vision ending with Longtail touching noses with the newly named Swiftpaw, a line of cats behind him so long it stretches into the shadows, endless kittens behind Swiftpaw, a mentorship doomed before it even began. Generations of cats hurting each other with no end in sight.

Enough is enough.

When he comes back to life, he slams against Scourge, dodging his attack again, and looking around to confirm his worst fears. All of Bloodclan's cats are fully grown. The Clans have brought apprentices. This victory is for the future, to Save The Clans as Fire Alone.

He slams Scourge against the ground, and knocks him out. However, Rooster, a Bloodclan cat, cries out that Scourge has been killed. To be fair to Rooster, Scourge is laying limp at the feet of Lionclan's leader.

While many Bloodclan cats scurry away, some to one day become Neo Bloodclan, Firestar taps the ground to call attention to Snowpaw, using a bit of Body Speaking to silently tell the deaf apprentice to sneak Scourge to camp, grabbing Scourge's torn collar and hiding it for later.

Bloodclan negotiations begin with the cats who stay and will later be seen in Graystripe's Clan.

Meanwhile, Snowpaw drags Scourge through the woods and sneaks him into Cinderpelt's den, scaring Cinderpelt half to death. She begins to treat Scourge, removing the enforced claw tips and gathering some food for him to eat without getting sick from the influx of sudden nutrition. Snowpaw is so friendly that he manages to become friends with Scourge while he is slowly recovering, hidden in the back of Cinderpelt's den and slowly putting on some weight as he eats with his friend while getting more comfortable with others. None of this would have happened if Snowkit had been taken by that hawk...

Eventually, he is healthy enough to groom himself properly and walk around. But... What now? Can he stay in Thunderclan? Would that be a safe option for him? Firestar is still teaching cats to unlearn their biases, and Scourge may be subject to suspicion and discrimination, which isn't fair to him.

Firestar talks with Princess, and the answer is clear.

His housefolk are not home now, haven't been in a week, but... Smudge is pretty lonely. Rusty left a bit of a hole there, he could use a good friend.

Scourge is brought to Smudge's home in the dark of the night, collar in his teeth, and welcomed inside. His collar tag reads 'Tiny' but with no phone number or microchip, Smudge's people take him in as their own, and Smudge isn't so lonely anymore.

Firestar left housecat life to be wild, proving himself with a broken collar, and Scourge is leaving wild life to be a housecat once more, saving himself with a broken collar.

He is seen during Firestar's Quest, slightly chubby and full of energy, and I might have him go on the Quest with them to round out the party. The important thing is, he is happy.

Princess's Short Story, currently unnamed, is about her passing, visiting her old friends and family as a spirit. She finds Scourge's spirit, along with Quince, Socks, and Smoke, enjoying a peaceful afterlife together.

He is allowed a place in Starclan and Sky-Starclan, and will reappear during Beyond The Stars as a supporting cast member.

[angeledeggs]

Can you pls do a HC for the courtiers where their S/o caught some illness and fell into a coma due to it? (Sleeping beauty sorta). Also how would they react after they wake up after a year or two? (:

//How are you doing? Had a nice day so far

This is so creative, yeah, I'll do it! I'm alright. Sorry writing has taken me longer 😭 I'm trying to make it higher quality for y'all to enjoy<33 thank all of yall for the requests!

Valerius🍷:

Oh gods, he's a mess.

He's already kind of a drinker but he DEFINITELY is drinking much more the first few weeks you fall into a coma.

Then he realizes that like, he definitely can't do that, what if you wake up and see him a drunken mess?

But then he realizes that you waking up is an if, and he drinks more.

He only stops when there happens to be a coincidental shortage of all spirits and all of the sort, and everything kind of clicks into place for him.

He has definite faith that you're going to wake up, and barely leaves your side.

He's a politician and as such, has countless meetings and scheduled appearances and things like that.

He ignores every one.

He'll make sure to take care of you in your coma, constantly checking your pulse, you're temperature, your breath. He even pays hundreds of physicians to try and help you, but none can find the answer. So he just stays with you and hopes.

He feels like a creep, always sitting with you, but he knows you're his lover and he'll stay with you for as long as it takes until you wake up.

He has so many dreams of you that when you finally awake, his first thought is he's dreaming. His hands reach out for you, though, instinctively, and when he touches your skin and sees your eyes he knows it's not a dream and bursts into tears immediately.

He'll definitely call your wake a miracle and will choke out prayers for the first time in years as he holds you.

Vlastomil🐛:

Valerius might numb the pain he feels with wine, but Vlastomil doesn't engage in such disgusting alcohol for his body.

The first few weeks he's anxiously jumping everytime he thinks he sees your breath sputter or pause, and is quick to check your breath and heartbeat.

He's desperate, and tries to read every book for anything he can find about your coma. He calls doctors, magicians, curse breakers, everyone, but he cant find anyone to help.

When the first month of your coma happens, he takes up smoking again.

But not just any type of smoking, no. When he was younger he would go for a cigar every now and then, but in the event of your coma he smokes two packs of simply cigarettes, right in a row, and when his chest wheezes, he only feels numb.

He never smokes in your room, he always smokes on the balcony, as he's too afraid that the smoke will hurt you.

After around a week of chain-smoking, he finally just quits. There's no point, as it barely calms him down. But he still shakes for cigarettes, for your awakening, so he drinks cup after cup of tea.

He finds it hard just to make one cup, when he's become so accustomed to making two.

You awake as his tea water is boiling, but he hears the slightest shift from your room and runs in so quickly that he knocks the pot clean off the stove.

He bursts into immediate, relieved tears when he sees you're finally awake, and embraces you as he falls to his knees, unable to even get out how he missed you so.

Valdemar💉:

They don't need anyone else's help.

You're the love of their life, they will be the one to care for you. They needn't any other doctor, any other magician, any of their assistants, nothing.

They practically dote on you, wait on you as if it is their life's duty. And as far as they're concerned, it is now, because they have abandoned their work and left it to collect dust in the dungeons.

They even leave their beloved beetles to Julian to take care of, for the are bugs and their pride and joy, yes, but you are the one person that softens them, their beloved, someone who they are certain is their soulmate.

They grow frustrated after months and months. They're a doctor, a scientist, a genius, dammit, and they can't figure out what's wrong.

They consider making another deal for your consciousness. But no. They will not sacrifice what's left of them another time. They will not rope you into their own mistakes. They will not give the devil what he wants.

They're transformed in the months of your coma. Their bandages are either dreadfully tight or messily loose, no in between, and their already gaunt body has turned thinner with the stress.

They are in a state of always checking your pulse, always stroking your hair, always whispering to the sun and moon their love for you, their pleas for you to return.

They move you often from not just laying but sitting positions so that when you awake you have no aches. For you will wake up. You will wake up or they will go with you.

And when you finally wake up, they can barely even speak. They can't speak. You have taken their work, their motivation, their remaining care for the beetles. They simply can't do it without you. And they drop to their knees in front of you, reaching for the pulse on your wrist, to feel it.

They feel a steady beat, rather than the slow, sleepy one that had plagued you in your coma. And they slump in relief, smile, kiss you with their mask on in their rush. You're back.

Volta🍰:

She just thinks you're really tired, at first. Then you're sleeping two days in a row and she is quite worried. She thinks you might be drunk or injured, but the alcohol cabinet is the way she left it and your body is relaxed with that of sleep, not slow death.

She's of course, an anxious mess. Usually, she simply cries when stressed, but she finds herself so worried that her tears turn into yelling. She screams at every doctor that doesn't know what to do with you until soon no more doctors will come and assess the situation.

She's so worried for you, that you'll die, and for a few days she ends up sleeping next to you, sobbing softly and praying to whoever will listen that she wants you to be fine when she wakes up. And after a few days she knows it's pointless.

She does her best to keep you comfortable, always adjusting your blankets to make sure your temperature is fine, carefully brushing your hair, trying to rouse you by lighting the incense.

She also tries to keep calm. She feels as though she is a doll that is splitting at the seams, and so she tries to engage in her hobby of baking, but when she finally finishes a cake and realizes you won't see it she collapses in the kitchen in grief.

She tries other hobbies.

Sewing is the only one she can handle, as she can be in the same room with you and sew you things for when you wake up. If you wake up. When you wake up.

She falls asleep with her needle and thread in her hand countless times and one day when she wakes, you're rubbing your eyes and sitting up.

Volta finds herself frozen for a long moment. Then she leaps over to you, wraps her arms around your shoulders and finally, she can cry and hold you with relief.

Vulgora⚔️:

They're usually very angry.

Usually.

But when they realize you're not sleeping, you're in a coma, they find themself a sudden, broken shell of their warrior spirit.

They try to reason with themself. They have won countless wars. They have killed thousands. They have seen countries rise and fall, and will continue to. But seeing you like this has made them weak.

You are their only weakness, and as such, they protect you with their life. Nobody hears of you or them, and they are constantly by your side, brushing back your hair and feeling for your heartbeat.

They rarely leave your side and as such, lose weight from how little they eat, in fear of leaving you and coming back to you hurt or.. Worse.

Their muscles are in a constant state of tense or shaking, and they find their strength has somehow left with your beautiful laugh and eyes. When they try to grab their sword, they crumble beneath their own very weapon that has slain all who faced them.

When you awake though, they suddenly stop shaking. Their muscles are hard with shock. And then they relax. And they collapse next to you, reach out for you, sighing of how relieved they are to see you awake, finally.

❀

PS GUYS OH MY GOD I THINK THIS MIGHT JUST BE ONE OF MY BEST WORKS I WASNT EVEN PLANNING TO RIGHT TODAY THIS ALL JUST HAPPENED LIKE OH MY GOD??? I GOT POSSESSED BY THE WRITERS BEFORE ME???? OH MY GOD YIPPEE

[mellancholy-morose]

@puppys-teeth You said you wanted Au's and silly thoughts in this post. I'm finally getting around to responding like I wanted to. I made it it's own post cause it got long and this is basically just gonna be a list of my WIP's with some general information and thoughts with some links to some snippets I've shared previously.

Longfics:

Knowing Spirit Albarn is a Drag Current WC about 14k

This is the current longfic I'm trying working on. Spirit ends up doing drag at chupa cabras, Stein comes looking for Spirit and finds out his secret and is thoroughly amused. Stein keeps coming back cause he finds it entertaining and is trying to understand why Spirit's doing it. But Spirit's double life takes a toll on him.

A few snippets I've posted so far:

Here, Here, Here, and Here

Graves/Fountains (a Wip title) Current WC about 3k (not counting notes that are just dialog spread around my note taking locations)

Stein and Spirit go on a mission and things go wrong, they're both left unable to resonate with anyone, as they're both ignored their problems for so long their souls have gone into what is basically a perpetual state of self defense, so LD puts them both on mandatory leave until they can fix their shit. They end up working at Deathbucks to pay the bills when its been a while with no progress and LD is like 'we can't keep paying you'. They eventually are going to have to go into each others mindscapes and help each other deal with all these things they've buried deep. The wip title is in reference to the imagery in their respective mindscapes.

Pacts Writ in Flesh and Blood Current WC about 27k

A resbang I was unable to finish, as it got a bit too depressing at the time. I will come back to it eventually, but it might yet be awhile. It's present stein/marie and past stein/spirit. It's a supernatural horror au, that started from the idea of Faustian deals, if you know 'the magnus archives' there's also some inspiration taken from there for this one. The promo from resbang will give you a better idea what it's about and has some excerpts:

promo

P.I. AU Currently just notes

More like a very long fic. Its ensemble cast and its scope scares me, it'll probably be a while before I tackle this one, simply cause juggling an ensemble cast this large, and having to make sure the murder mystery makes sense is going to be a lot balls in the air. When it was first conceived it was intended to be Stein/Marie but I'm likely to pivot it slightly to make it still that to and extent but likely end game Stein/Spirit. Idk it's not currently very fleshed out besides some general beats I want to hit with things. Stein is Frank Stone (I think it's hilarious and this choice of mine will never stop amusing me) private investigator who's investigating his buddy Sid's death. also did I mention its the 1920's? cause its the 1920's.

Oneshots:

none of these titles are finalized and are more just ways for me to tell them apart from each other

Carnival Currently just notes

Based off that one ending image of Stein making Spirit puke on the teacups, Spirit is there to chaperone the kids, and asks Stein to come a long. Marie upon learning this implies its a date, which worms its way into Stein's head, leading to something of a disappointing experience when they go.

GD Current WC 2.5k

(I don't want to say the title of this one as it gives away something small that I haven't decided if I want the reader to go into the fic knowing about yet)

Current oneshot I'm working on, after a mission Spirit convinces Stein to visit his parents when he learns they're in the area. It is a bit awkward for all involved but Spirit is learning things about Stein he never knew.

A snippet of this one can be found here and here.

Two fucked up little guys Current WC 1.6K

This one admittedly is almost done, but I haven't felt up for finishing it. Set after Stein and Spirit stopped being partners and after Maka is born, but before the anime. Neither have good coping mechanisms for their stress and end up instinctually reaching out for each others wavelengths, and connect while half way across the city. It's angsty, there's some hurt/comfort but it's not got a happy end coming for it. Though this one is also one that after I post it and people are interested I might end up coming back to and expanding the story on later (and giving it a happier ending most likely)

Misc:

These are things that are minimally fleshed out and tend to be more prompts then actual Wips atm

Gay Pirates:

Spirit used to be steins first mate, now they both have their own crews, and spirit keeps boasting about his getting them into trouble. Maka mutinies her dad stranding him on an island but still kinda feels bad about it so sends Stein a letter addressed as if from Spirit for a duel to the death, and Stein ends up getting stranded on the island with him cause his crew get drove off while he's off board by the navy.

Road Trip:

Been sitting on this one for awhile, but @bcbdrums reminded me it was in my wips by mentioning her own road trip ideas on some posts. I was gonna work on this on the side of my long fic but it grew past oneshot territory and is likely gonna be a medium length fic so it went back on the backburner. It's normal world au and is a last road trip before Stein leaves for med school. But there's gonna be a time skip after the trip to after med school

Verbatim from my notes:

"You've got mail Au but with more dicks and its grindr, cause its 2022 my dude" (can you tell how long these idiots have been plaguing me? The ideas and wips are constantly stacking up)

Theater kids au:

Stein is a teacher, Spirit is parent who wont fucking go home

Some Stein/Spirit/Marie poly thing

Doesn't have much to it currently besides my thoughts about similarities between Marie and Spirit

Incubus Au

Likely to be a longish fic, Spirit is a incubus that's hanging around Stein for reasons (one of those not sure if i want readers to know going into it things) and Stein is a kind of John Constantine type

[greatbritishsimchallenge]

"Cassian! I have amazing news!" beamed Elizabeth.

"Is that so, my love? Pray tell!"

"I'm pregnant!"

Cassian hugged Elizabeth and began to rub his hands over her bump, "How far along are you? This is... a sizeable bump."

"I don't know much about these things, sweetie. Must have been from one of our spirited love-making sessions a while back and it's just taken me a minute to realise."

"But we didn't make love in a manner that could bear children until quite recently?" asked Cassian, confused.

"What are you talking about?" laughed Elizabeth, "We've been at it since long before our wedding day! It's honestly a wonder this hasn't happened already."

"No, but -" Cassian tried to interrupt, but Elizabeth quickly covered him in kisses.

"Oh, you are going to be such a wonderful father, I can't wait! I must dash, sweetheart, I have a riding lesson booked and you know how fussy the squires get if you're late. Honestly, you'd think the mood of the horse was more important than my own!"

Before Cassian could challenge her further, Elizabeth had left.

Cassian sought out Henry to ask his thoughts.

"Perhaps she is right, father. Perhaps you just forgot one of your particular episodes with her? You have been rather active, after all."

"Maybe I am just becoming forgetful in my old age..." Cassian replied, unconvinced. "I'll try talking to her again when she returns from riding."

Hearing that Elizabeth was out riding, Henry quickly shifted tact.

"Although," he added cautiously, "If you are that concerned, I wouldn't wait. Perhaps she didn't feel able to speak openly in the castle - the walls have too many ears. Perhaps in the privacy of the woods she might feel able to be more honest?"

Cassian nodded sombrely, "I suppose... I'll go talk to her. I'm probably wrong, but... something just feels off."

"Better to be sure with these things," Henry agreed. As he watched his father leave, Henry felt a cautious happiness build within him.

Story continues under the cut (NSFW: sex, murder, domestic violence against women)

It took Cassian some time to find Elizabeth. Eventually it was the noise that drew him to her; at first it sounded like the intense rustling of animals fighting, then the noises became distinctly more human and sounded like moaning and groaning. Concerned she might be hurt, Cassian rushed towards the sound and halted to an abrupt stop when he was able to see the source of noise.

Cassian watched Elizabeth rolling around in the grass with her lover, his rage building as she failed to notice that she was being watched. As he watched, he thought of all the times she was with him. With him, sex with her suddenly seemed like an amateur dramatic performance filled with over-the-top cries of pleasure and performative declarations of love. Seeing her with this man, Cassian could see how real and genuine her pleasure was - and that only infuriated him more.

"Elizabeth!"

"Cassian!" Elizabeth pushed the man away from her and lept up, looking frantically around as if for some reasoning she could give to what Cassian had seen. "I... umm... thank goodness you're here! That man attacked me!"

Cassian looked the petrified, naked man once over and saw the way he looked at Elizabeth with eyes filled with hurt and betrayal.

"You're lying. I watched you two together and you were wanting every fucking second," Cassian snarled, before adding to the man, "Get out of here." The man grabbed his clothes and rushed to his horse, galloping off without looking back.

Cassian stepped menacingly towards Elizabeth.

"That baby is not mine, is it?"

"Cassian, darling, of course it is. This was a one time mistake, I -"

"Stop lying to me!" Cassian yelled, grabbing Elizabeth by the throat. "How long have you been lying to me? Did you ever even love me? Or have you just been using me all of this time? You were going to pass another man's child off as mine? You made me think you loved me! How could you do this to me, you evil whore!"

In his rage, Cassian failed to recognise how tightly he gripped Elizabeth's neck, nor how her flails were growing weaker. It was only when her eyes closed and her arms dropped to her sides that he released her. Her dead body fell in a crumple to the floor.

The moment her body fell, all of Cassian's rage left his body and was immediately replaced with sadness.

"What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?" I repeated over and over to himself.

Start (Iron Age) | Start (Roman Britain) | Start (Anglo Saxon) | Start (Medieval) | Start (Tudor)

Previous | Next

[teenietinytangerine]

I’ve got a fic I doubt I’ll ever write so let me unload my notes app here:

jane austen period drama setting

a is an adoptee/pupil to a Count who is known as a great music composer, regularly hosts parties and welcomes students in music to educate them over the summer at his home that is always full.

outside of a, also has four sons and a young daughter.

the count took A in because she is the daughter of his life long friend now dead in the war; mom was a working woman that fell ill while waiting for her secret husband.

When her mother died, A moved into the Count's residence, she was about 9.

A is a full sunshine to be around, social butterfly with a sneaky side, she has taken over the role of organizing and hosting the parties as the oldest "daughter”.

a is also a piano genius, she writes songs she sells to less talented, more man, would-be composers (did smn say overcompensing for daddy's approval? no one?)

her origins are known by all, the fact that the Count will always prioritize his own children over her in terms of dowry and inheritance, which keeps all suitors away but not boys with lesser intentions. a is the first one to redirect attentions of the men she finds suitable on her little sister.

b is a broke lord, from a family that cares for nothing but titles and got screwed over by a vengeful accountant (that honestly may have had a point). They managed to keep their financial situation a secret, putting all their hopes on their two sons to marry well before it is known.

b is the eldest, and is a moderatly renowned pianist as his parents kept sending him away to lords and masters (mostly to not have to pay for his upkeep). This is how he caught the eye of the Count and is invited to stay at his Manor to become his student.

during his stay, his family expects a lot, he will never be more in company of young rich ladies.

But, of course, he meets a.

though a bit coldly at first as her entrance disturbs his performance by how loud the children welcome her back.

b does not know about a's circumstances, he comes from too far away, and just assumes she is a bored daughter of a Count that took up music as another hobby.

a takes a lot of pleasure teasing the shit out of straight-arrow-no-funny-business b, quickly becoming their guide in this new fancy world, much like a cat plays with a prey, until the fake flirting became a bit too real, and their feelings menaces their status quo.

b: “I want to finally do one thing I truly want to do before i throw my will away and marry smart and that is to kiss you” a:"we can kiss ONCE but no more, you’ve got to marry well and that is not me”

a: “since we can’t seem to move on, and we’re both very free spirited, we should have sex to get it out of our systems and then forget it all about it” b: “since we can’t seem to move on, we should marry eo actually”

a:”I’m not marrying you bc we’re horny, ur not being reasonable which is very hard and annoying to me bc so far you have been the reasonable one, and I do not appreciate this position when I’m just as damn horny for u”

b:”this is way beyond being horny and ur being blind to how deep we’ve fallen bc ur so sure i'm gonna change my mind, I’m not just willing to give up an easier life for you, I would be miserable without you, therefore this is me being reasonable by telling you I want to marry you and if you keep saying we should just get it out of our systems, then i'm telling you we can’t have sex until we’re married”

a thousand teasings later and flirtatious attempts, a few existential crisis, and resignation over a's own feelings and trust issues*

a: “fine, I’ll marry ur sorry adorable ass.”

b: “that’s such great news, let’s have sex to celebrate!”

a: “nah, we might as well wait now, it’ll be more special *is absolutely taking revenge*”

[tiredcowpoke]

A BETTER EVENING

Pairing: Molly O'Shea x Fem!Reader Request: Anon sent “Hey! I was wondering if you’d ever consider writing Molly? Something about an angsty molly/f!reader just makes me 😩. An “I can treat you so much better” type situation and both are aware there’s feelings there? (one-sided or otherwise! however it comes to you!). Smut if you are up to it, but no pressure at all!“ Warnings: Cheating (emotional, at least), pretty Dutch critical, angst, pining. Note: I'm upset I had to take forever with this, but I'm always down to write something with Molly. lol Thank you for requesting, anon, and I hope this at least lives up to your expectations? Regardless, I hope you all enjoy.

She disappeared down the shoreline again, fists clenched and arms swinging at her sides as if she was going to punch whoever might appear at the end of her march.

A part of you, not born out of frustration toward her or her situation, almost wished that she’d just keep going. You had seen and heard her issues with Dutch, that she had taken a punch from Karen a day or so back for some sort of fight between the two of them, and you knew she would fare better if she just left. Yet, you knew she wouldn’t. She was loyal to Dutch, she loved Dutch, and you could see her trying to win his affections back.

Given how he’d been acting around Mary-Beth, who was unwillingly dragged into this mess without wanting to be, you had found yourself biting your tongue a few times from making a comment or two to him about everything. Yet, you knew your time would be better spent giving Molly your time. Things had been good between you two–you had been warned by the other women a few times about her temperament and how Molly kept her distance. You still found a way to get her to talk with you–it wasn’t hard, back in Horseshoe. Spirits were high, or better than they had been since Colter, but now things felt…different.

Molly was distancing herself. Didn’t really want to talk with you for too long, and her anger was rearing its head a lot more since the gang had moved camps. With her and Dutch going head-to-head most days, you couldn’t blame her for the foul moods.

Still, you wanted to try. Even if it was a small conversation or she would brush you off.

Upon seeing her sit down on a rock just out of eyesight from most of the camp, you started to make your way over toward her. There was some apprehension to your movements–at most, you just didn’t want to ruin her day more than it already has been. It wasn’t even midday yet and she was sitting out on her own again after another shouting match. You knew you would have to tread carefully, at least.

“Molly?” you asked once you came within a couple steps of her.

She glanced toward you, eyes sharp but you could tell from the puffiness that she was holding back the tears. Seeing her like this, it pulled at something in your chest–sympathy, but also anger toward Dutch. You realized you were about to give her the apology that he wouldn’t.

“That was horrible…” you started, “I’m sorry. I know things aren’t good with you, but I just wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine,” she stated, voice tight. You didn’t believe that for a second, but you didn’t press as you gestured toward the space beside her.

“You mind if I sit?”

“Go ahead,” she replied shortly.

With a small exhale, you finally crossed the space between you two and sat down beside her. You looked out at the river, the islands across from you that were still shrouded in the morning mist. Even with the tension, you didn’t want to speak. To push Molly into talking when she didn’t want to. Yet, you just…wanted her to know you were there, you supposed. You had wanted that more than you cared to admit, and not just within situations like your current one.

You knew you were just putting yourself into more pain in the end, but it was hard not to feel drawn to her. Yet, you knew you couldn’t act on it. As far as you were aware, Molly hadn’t made any signals that she returned your sentiments, and you knew trying to pursue the woman who was with your gang’s leader was just asking for trouble. Reason pointed largely toward why it was a bad idea, but you couldn’t seem to help yourself.

You had wanted to see her smile. See her laugh. Anything other than the shouting and crying that you had seen out of her as of late.

“I don’t know what to do,” Molly admitted, pulling you out of your thoughts as you glanced toward her. Her voice was shaky and tired, her Irish accent thick with the tears you could hear she was holding back.

“I know you’re all watchin’ me, too,” she continued, the venom in her voice taking you aback somewhat, “Just waitin’ for the next show–well, I’m sure you’ll all keep gettin’ it.”

“I’m not finding any amusement,” you said, tone even despite the anger that clearly sat her own. “You’re one of the first people I got close to in this camp. I care about you.”

Molly turned to glance over at you, then. While she didn’t say anything, you could see her expression shift. The sharp gaze she gave you when you first approached fell away to something a little softer, though you could clearly see the hurt in her eyes before she turned to look away from you. This place was draining her–clearly. You could see that, and you knew others did too. Yet, you had the feeling that you might be one of the few, if not the only one, to try to talk to her directly about it.

“Let’s get out of here,” you said, the words slipping out without much thought, as much as you knew an idea had been forming in your head.

“What?”

“Just for a while,” you continued, “I know a quiet place that would be nice for the afternoon. I…well, I think we both could use some time away from here.”

“I…I don’t know,” Molly replied after a pause, looking conflicted. You raised your hands somewhat in a placating gesture–you didn’t want to stress her out, but you thought that maybe it would be nice for her. You knew nobody else was going to, anyway.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought I would offer. I can lead my horse around, you won’t even have to explain it to anybody else. It’s not like I’m asking you to rob a bank with me or anything.”

Molly seemed to debate that for a few moments–in that time, though, you had noticed a change in her body language. Even if it was just a suddenness of the offer, she seemed to perk up somewhat at the idea, even if she hadn’t voiced it out loud just yet.

“…Not for too long,” she settled on, making a small grin appear on your face.

***

You appreciated the shift in temperature from Lymone into New Hanover.

Perhaps more than you did when the gang had been staying in Horseshoe, but the current camp was stifling in more ways than just the tension you had noticed in places. While it wasn’t a major drop in temperature, you didn’t want to go too far out, it felt like you could breathe a little easier. Well, as much as you could in the current situation.

Honestly, you were a little nervous as your horse trotted along at an easy pace, you being all too aware of the passenger you had behind you on the horse. Molly’s hands rested on your hips, the two of you not really talking much on the journey toward a little spot you knew from a while ago. A place you took off to from time to time to be alone with your thoughts, or when camplife got to you a little too much. It was quiet, isolated, and sometimes it felt like you were separated from reality for a while. Little peaceful places like that, you had learned to appreciate where you could.

You didn’t know if Molly would get the same experience, but you hoped so. At the end of the day, you were just hoping that perhaps it would give her a chance to relax. To get away from the camp, Dutch, and all the rest. (As much as a small part of you did wish that it’d be your company that would help her do that, but you didn’t want to put her in that position. As much as your mind tormented you with the idea from time to time.)

“I haven’t done this in a long while, you know,” Molly said suddenly, pulling you from your thoughts as you turned your head toward her somewhat over your shoulder. “Dutch used to take me on rides like this before, but…not so much anymore.”

“…He’s busy these days. You know how he is,” you offered in reply, though your tone betrayed the fact that you didn’t put much heart into your defense of Dutch. It kind of felt like a knee-jerk reaction, sometimes. You cleared your throat somewhat, perking up a little. “Though, I’m happy to take you out for a bit. It’s not too far now, I think.”

“Ya don’t have to defend him to me, you know,” she said, “He…I just want someone to tell me that they see what I do.”

“What do you see?” you asked after a pause.

“That he’s…different, now,” Molly said, you feeling her hands tighten a bit on your hips as she shifted on the back of your horse as you steered down toward a familiar patch of trees.

“A lot of things have changed lately, haven’t they?” you asked, “Not to dismiss your concerns…”

“Yes, but…” Molly trailed off, sounding a little frustrated but you were glad that at least she wasn’t bottling it all up. “Even before Blackwater, you saw how he was. I thought things were getting better in Horseshoe, but now he has no time for me. Can’t help but resent the man.”

“I can’t say I know him that well,” you said, “I’ve only been around for…maybe half a year? Yet…well, I’ve seen the way you two yell at each other now, so I can’t say I haven’t noticed a change.”

“Mortifyin’, that’s what that is,” Molly muttered, “I just don’t want to sit there and take it. I just want him to listen.”

“I know,” you replied, reaching a hand back to grasp at her own where she was gripping your shirt, “Dutch…he…Don’t tell anybody I said this, but it feels like doesn’t listen to anybody unless they are agreeing with him. From what I’ve seen, anyway. He may change. Come to his senses or something…”

God, listening to yourself say those last couple of sentences didn’t make you believe you believed what you were saying. Molly didn’t say anything in return–you couldn’t blame her. You wanted to respect her relationship with him; and for all you had to say, Dutch did help you out. Yet, you really didn’t want to force yourself to defend the man you saw hurting someone you cared about, day after day. You knew Molly hurled her own share back at him, but after seeing what happened with Mary-Beth and her discomfort, you couldn’t help but want to stand with Molly.

It wasn't your place to get involved, anyway. Not directly, at least. You could just offer her things like this, you supposed.

Finally, after making sure to take a path into the clearing that wouldn’t get you both smacked by tree branches, you arrived at the little clearing. The little stream, some rabbits running off into the bushes on the other side and the early evening sunlight giving you plenty of shade. You steered your horse to a stop near a tree, slipping out of the saddle first before offering your hands out to Molly for some help down with a somewhat awkward chuckle.

She took your offered help, slipping off the side of your horse with your assistance, gripping onto your hands as she glanced around herself. You couldn’t help but notice the freckles that dotted her cheeks, a few strands of her red hair resting against her shoulders as you still gripped her hands in your own. Your heart was beating hard, both worried about her reaction and the fact that you were still standing like you were.

Finally, you dropped your hands to your sides as you looked around yourself before giving Molly a small grin.

“Like I said, it’s not a gala or anything, but it’s nice.”

“I don’t think I could handle anythin’ more than this,” Molly said, “It’s…quiet.”

You made a sound of agreement, moving toward one of the trees to rest under as you gave Molly the option to follow. Really, you couldn’t say you had many hobbies that you could do in a place like this, but just taking in the relative quiet was enough for you. Though, you noticed Molly walking over to join you after a few moments, lowering herself down to sit next to you as you glanced toward her.

She pulled her legs up to her chest somewhat, crossing her arms on her knees as she looked off at the treeline across from you both. It was probably the most casual you had seen her.

“I used to look for places like this to write poetry,” Molly commented, making you raise your eyebrows at her somewhat.

“You’re a poet?”

She chuckled lightly at that, the sound pulling at your heart a little. “I appreciate the flattery, but I wouldn’t say that. I don’t write nearly enough.”

“You could always pick it up again,” you encouraged, “I’ve seen Arthur with his journal many times, Sean and his whittling. Javier and his guitar, even Uncle with the banjo…”

“I know, but…” Molly started with a small shrug of her shoulders, “I don’t think I could write the same. About nature, love, folktales…things have changed too much.”

“I don’t think that means you should stop…” you replied, “Not to pressure you. Just…well, I know Mary-Beth writes romance, but I doubt Arthur’s journal is sunshine and rainbows. It’s a way to express yourself, I guess.”

“I never took you for the creative sort,” Molly commented in some mild amusement, which made you huff.

“I just think I’m overcompensating for the fact that I don’t have a creative bone in my body.”

“Well…I don’t think many people have encouraged my poetry in a long while,” Molly admitted after a few moments, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you said with a nod, glancing down at the tips of your shoes, “You deserve to have people supporting you.”

“You…always do that,” Molly said after another pause, which had you glancing back toward her, “Since we’ve met. You go out of your way to lift my spirits. I know I don’t appreciate that enough.”

“I just…” you started, squeezing your hands together, “I want to help. I like you–your company. I think you deserve better than a passing greeting or…” Dutch, you wanted to say. You deserve better than Dutch. “I know you appreciate it. You don’t have to say it.”

“…Why me?” Molly asked, the question taking you a little off guard. “You’re friendly with others, but you go out of your way for me…”

“I…It’s…” you said, trying not to stammer as you could feel your heart in your throat, “I mean…you have to know by now, right? I appreciate your company and friendship a lot, and I shouldn’t even say anything more, but…I’m sweet on you.”

“You’re sweet on me?” Molly asked, her tone not quite as shocked and put-off as you had been expecting. “That…makes sense, I just never thought…”

“You don’t have to say or do anything,” you said, meeting her gaze with your serious one, “I just know that you deserve better than Dutch. I know you love him, but I’d hate to see you chasing after someone who isn’t there anymore. The idea of him, at least. I don’t want to say I’d be the one who would be better for you, but…I just think you deserve better than to be brushed off and ignored. Certainly better than being condescended to and yelled at.”

Your gaze had dropped as you spoke, feeling like you were saying too much and should stop while you were ahead. Yet, it was all true. You knew you had felt some sort of way toward her for a while now, and to see her and Dutch had taken on a particular sting. Especially with how things had been lately. Still, it wasn’t your place. You were expecting to be told off or something along those lines, and you’d understand that.

So, you were surprised when she leaned into you, her head resting against your shoulder as she wrapped her arms around your middle. You returned the embrace, holding onto her as she didn’t say anything. You knew it was a lot to take in, and you were concerned that you had ruined things, but this reaction was a bit of a relief. You rubbed your hand over her shoulder lightly in a small, soothing gesture.

“Regardless of how you feel about this now or later, I just wanted you to hear that from somebody,” you muttered, Molly nodding before she pulled back somewhat.

It looked like she might say something for a few moments, but instead she just reached out for your arm again as she leaned her head against your shoulder. You sighed, turning your head and pressed a small kiss to her hairline before pulling back to look across the clearing where some rabbits had returned to graze.

“I know,” you muttered.

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

Pierced my heart part 3

The sooner the better. You watched as your elder finished setting his traps along the border line. Everything needed to be ready before the energetic demon returns.

Elder crow stood up examining his work. It was just before midnight. He turns to you. And while you can't see his face due to his mask you know he is scowling.

You bow your head as he disappeared into the trees. The Hum-in-oda tribe had been avoiding demons since the beginning. It was how the clan stayed safe. The clan had to be thought of as a whole and no individual could be favored over another. Especially if one was to be labeled as a hazard to the tribes safety.

You were a hazard now. A demons interest was not a good thing to have. You sat and waited. It was the only thing you could do at this point. The moon hanging high over head.

You heard heard the tell tail signs of wings. Your only clue that he had arrived. You sat patiently. You knew he spotted you because his steps got careless instead of stealthy. You drew out a knife and threw it.

The blade cut through the air and embedded itself into the ground in front of him before he could take another step. He's smiling again. You could have stabbed his foot and he was smiling.

Demons were strange... especially this one. "That's as far as your getting." You try to keep your voice flat and your heartbeat calm. He dropped his bag. His green eyes never left yours.

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

They were here! They were waiting for him! He thought he had been super early by arriving at midnight on the dot but nope!

Ah! Maybe they were waiting the entire time for him to come back. His heart raced. He wanted to hold them! But they threw a blade at him before he could get further. He pouted.

"But I missed you!" He whines. They look so pretty standing there in the moonlight. He knew they would be even prettier without the mask.

"Is it because I took to long getting back. I'm sorry next time I'll come back right away!" He says egarly. "Go back to your clan and stay there!" They hissed. "No way!" He shakes his head.

He couldn't leave! He didn't even know their name yet! "I have so many questions!" He tries to advance further but they throw another knife. This time it lands in a trap that would have most likely taken his leg. THEY DID CARE♡!

"What's your name? Do you like flowers? Which do you like better fish or meat?" He shoots rapid-fire questions at them. "Why do you want to know that?!?" They snapped at him.

"Well I think I should get to know my future spouse!" He says happily. He's met with silence. He looks at them. He can't tell what their thinking with the mask on.

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧ Your brain was broken. That had to be the most logical explanation. You misheard. Definitely misheard.

"What did you just say?" You asks in a tight voice. "Ah I said I should get to know my future spouse!" He said it again. 'AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH' you threw your hands up into the air. Spirits give you strength.

"Who said I was marrying you!" You pointed an accusing finger at him. Embarrassment flooding your body. "I did just now!" He has the nerve to be cheerful about this!!!??!!

"I didn't agree to this!!!" You snapped enraged. "You haven't disagreed either!" You froze. Blinking and thinking back you realized you technically hadn't rejected him.

"To late can't change it now! We're getting married!" You sputtered and gasped at the conviction he held in his eyes. This wasn't fair! Not at all!

"Don't worry, I'm gonna court you properly. So by the time we get married, you'll be head over heels for me too!" He declares. You just stare at him. You should have just killed him when you had the chance.

He's gonna haunt the border forever at this rate. You could practically hear Elder Oak laughing about this when Elder Crow would report back.

Maybe it wasn't too late to drown in the river? You were dealing with an internal crisis. You were gonna die anyway, and you might as well put yourself out of your own misery.

"So what's your name?" You looked into the demons' bright green eyes. They glowed in the moonlight. It was beautiful... just a name couldn't hurt... right?

"They... they call me... Y/N." Of course. That would be the moment. That is the exact moment you are pierced through the heart by an invisible arrow.

Cause in that moment... there in the moonlight. He gave you a smile so bright it oushined the heavens. All from knowing your name.

"Y/N...? I like it! It's beautiful!" He cheered. You blushed behind your mask. He was just... just so...? Enchanting. How could a demon like him possibly be bad?

[chuplayswithfire]

to preface: same way djenks doesn't care about pirates i dont care about accuracy either

BUT

months and months ago i got an ask that I'm still percolating on regarding what if stede was a fae. and my response to this concept was to think:

But what if ed was the one among the fae. what if blackbeard was a fae knight, taken in ages and ages ago, barely remembers his life in the mortal world, busy with the endless work of his position, collecting victims for the Hunt, gathering people for fae dances, chasing off the intruders and those who damage their sacred spaces, and it's all so fucking boring, he's been doing the same thing over and over and over, is this all there is? is this all there will ever be??? all he knows is be blackbeard, eat chip, and never die.

and then one day there's stede bonnet, who falls asleep in a fae circle on accident and stumbles into a whole new world - and then, manages to stumble himself right out. without falling into the usual traps. without making unwise deals. without eating something poisoned and getting himself stranded. he just gets out.

and of course he's swagless and clumsy and barely survives, but he does it. and he keeps doing it. fumbling his way into the world of the fae and fumbling himself back out, his ragtag team of adventurers and paid companions and they keep getting out of trouble and no one's doing it like stede.

ed didn't even know someone could do it like stede. he's fascinated. he has to meet him.

the next time stede tumbles his way where he isn't meant to be, there's ed, there's blackbeard, there's the greatest fae knight to ever live, an expert at spiriting people away, and he wants stede to come to a fae dance and then get away. he wants him to find a way out.

of course stede takes him up on it. of course they dance. of course stede tells him that the fae world is fascinating and different and interesting but he doesn't stay, because he's been locked in place before and he doesn't want to be trapped again. he ran away from his prison of a marriage and his tomb of a home to have adventure, not to make a new grave. there are good things about being human too, good things about being mortal, good things about their world, and he wants to see them all and doesn't ed want to see it all, isn't that why he's been THEE blackbeard for so long and ed

ed hasn't thought about it that way. ed hasn't seen that light. ed's been do fucking bored and here's this interesting guy, this so interesting guy offering him a new way to see things. and for the first time in years ed is thinking about the fact that he might have remained in the fae world all this time, been trickier than any changeling, more crafty than any trickster, but he isn't actually a fae.

he's mortal. he was born mortal. he forgot about it, for years and years, but the more time he spends with stede the more he remembers and the more he thinks he can face what he left behind, and the more he wants to, the more he wants things to change

and meanwhile, stede's got his own notoriety problem, people are talking about the man who keeps dancing in and out of the fae world, far are talking about the man who dances in and out of their borders as if they don't exist, and not everyone's as captivated by his swagless whimsy as ed is and boy is he facing a reckoning (not even an earned one!)

and yet. as unworthy as he feels as the consequences start stacking, as concerned as he is, he wants ed. oh he wants ed. oh he's never felt as alive as when he's with ed.

for the legacy of fae knight blackbeard to die and the mortal ed to be free from the shadow of that legend, for stede to survive the wrath of the fair folk, to keep the flame of their love lit, they'll have to risk everything

[somanyfuckedupiftruebooks]

Mag 24

First of all, amazing opening to the statement. Thank you Leannne, you're a treasure. Secondly, it's weird that she seems to be basically immune to the Stranger, considering her family history. She doesn't necessarily have to take after her grandfather, but still, you'd think she'd have some reaction to clowns other than indifference.

Haha, I get it, he was a 'strange' man who played 'strange' music. Very funny Jonny.

I wonder what his plan was here. The statement implies that Grandpa Nick's death wasn't a shock, and yet he made no plans regarding the contents of the loft. Did he think his granddaughter would keep it locked forever? Or did he want her to find it, and maybe take over as organist? Then why lock the basement at all? If it was to keep Nikola inside, why not warn her that it was up there?

I knew Nikola took her father's surname, but I didn't realise she'd taken her other father's first name! That's oddly endearing... or it would be, if not for the larger implications of a Stranger taking someone's name.

Okay, so Nick was part of the circus and obviously had some kind of relationship with Nikola. Why did he lock it away inside of his loft? Because it killed Gregor Orsinov? Seems that like that happened a long time ago, though. Maybe the lock was a relatively recent thing, only installed after Nick got too sick to care for himself and Leanne moved in? Prior to growing too unwell, Nick might have just been chillin' with Nikola, playing sick beats on the calliope and letting it rip people's jaws off whenever it wanted. The lock could have been to keep Leaane out, not to keep Nikola in. But he left Leanne the house, clown and calliope included...

I dont know. There's unanswered questions here.

Okay, nope, 'thick layer of dust'. Nick hasn't been up here for a loooong time. He definitely just locked Nikola away, with seemingly no plans for what to do when she eventually got out. Maybe he got sick of the #circuslife and thought that if he just left her alone for long enough she would either die or stop pretending to be alive.

Okay, this might just be my automatonophobic ass, but I swear to god if I found this in my house I would immediately burn it. Maybe that would be a bad decision, but I figure I already fucked up by opening the locked room and releasing the spirits of the broken dolls, may as well destroy them all immediately before they have a chance to come alive while I'm sleeping.

It's probably been evident from my commentary thus far, but I subscribe to the theory that this clown doll is Nikola, in one of it's many forms. Which makes it hilaroous that the first introduction we get to one of the primary antagonists of the series is a doll that is immediately called ugly and almost thrown out as garbage.

Omg hi queen!!! It's so nice to meet you!!! Though in hindsight, I really wish your first on-tape appearance hadn't been in a Stranger statement...

But still, iconic to have your first line of dialogue be both interrupting and correcting the Archivist. Get his ass.

🥺 They were friends. He praised her, and they joked around with each other at work.

[gigglemugger]

Shaking With a Deadly Fear.

Fandom: The Evil Clergyman - H.P. Lovecraft, Jeffrey Combs in general.

Pairing: None. Gen.

Synopsis:

Sally Elmer is excited to see her bigger sister Susan Brady again. However, upon arrival, she realizes there's something really wrong with her and that it might have something to do with a certain lover she has taken in the past. Now, Sally must go against the demonic Evil Clergyman for the hope of getting what's left of her sister's soul back.

A.K.A. An entirely TOO long Evil Clergyman, basically sequel fic, that was beamed into my brain after I finished watching the movie the first time.

No comment.

Absolutely not beta read.

THE GIF IS DECEPTIVE. THERE IS NO SMUT HERE. I'M NOT GOOD AT WRITING THAT. IT'S STILL GRAPHIC THOUGH.

Word Count: 12,052.

AO3 Tags: The Evil Clergyman - Freeform, I will gladly go down as the only person in history who wrote a 37 page Evil Clergyman fanfiction, Jeffrey Combs is in this but he's not the main character by far, Yes I am sad as well, I Don't Even Know, Why Did I Write This?Psychological Horror, Family bonding over having a sister possessed by the devil and needing to save her still counts right?, Family, I wonder if this is what H.P. Lovecraft envisioned when he wrote The Evil Clergyman, Of course not this isn't even what the screenwriters envisioned when they wrote The Evil Clergyman, I basically gave the main character a new family and life cause she didn't have any, i don't know how to tag things.

Language: English.

CW: A LOT. This is not my regular fanfic, it's more like an edgier version of what I write nowadays (which is either comedy, character studies, or melancholic horror, or all three) so: Men being gross, graphic depictions of violence, possession, sexual themes, suicide, smoking.

AO3 link.

Work notes (important):

For notes, I'll simply post what I prefaced my word document with, which I recommend reading cause it does clarify some things:

The Evil Clergyman Fanfiction cause why not. I mean, why not. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t write this right now.

Things I’ll add:

1. Name for the main character cause she doesn’t got any.

2. A life and family for the main character. She also doesn’t got any. Poor thing, she just exists, really.

3. Ok, scratch that, apparently she has a husband and her name is… *squints* Said Brady. Is it a typo? Is it supposed to be just Brady, the last name, but they (director? Producer?) said Brady one time and whoever wrote the credits thought that was the first name? Very confusing stuff.

4. Whatever, I’ll keep Said as the name. Anyone who wants to correct me, feel so free to do so. The world is your commentary oyster. Go ham.

5. Oh God, if I keep Said as a name will I have to write “Said said?” Oh no.

6. Her name is now Susan. Said is a nickname. It was the natural thing to do.

7. Ok, apparently no one knows shit about this film, cause I can’t find anything online. Like, what did they intend with this (short) movie other than making an erotic rereading of the original Lovecraft tale? I mean, whatever, works for me.

8. I don’t completely understand the setting of the film. It seems to be a monastery, but also… Not? I’ll just say it’s a tower and that father Jonathan was working at church. At which point does this cross the point of fanfiction to simply just fiction? Who knows?

9. Did Jonathan’s bedroom have a table?? I’m not gonna watch it again to see if it did, I already watched it twice. I mean it’s good, but it’s not that good. The original Evil Clergyman™ has a desk, so I’ll add that. Get rekt Jonathan.

10. Ok. Let’s go girls. *Shania Twain bops in the distance* *Yes this is a songfic now*

I was clearly having a breakdown here and wrote this in three days. Further warnings would be:

There’s a surprising lack of Jeffrey Combs in this fanfiction. There’s possessed-with-Jeffrey-Combs’-spirit-Barbara-Crampton, but nothing too non-PG. I know, I am upset as well. He appears as a character some of the time and he is still very much debated, but unfortunately this is kind of like… Its own thing. Like a weird sequel almost?

Does this still qualify as fanfiction?

This piece is also riddled with original characters I decided to make up for shits and giggles. I don’t know why either, this fanfiction came to me in a vision right after I finished watching the movie and it stuck with me, so I had to purge it. This is also very much NOT beta read, like, at all. I barely skimmed through it after I was done with it, so any mistakes or incongruenties are entirely my fault and likely will never be fixed. I’m sorry.

Proceed with caution all ye that might even read this. You were warned.

(Also, I would like to say that any opinions expressed about Yoko Ono in this fanfiction are not necessarily that of the author’s. Enjoy.)

—

“I became good at pretending. I became so good that after a while the lines blurred between my truth and fiction. And sometimes, when I did a really good job of pretending, I even fooled myself.”

Ruta Sepetys

—

When I walked into the room that day, I hadn’t expected to leave as a monster. I don’t know what I did expect, in the cold air of that deadly tower where we made love every day for two months. Maybe to see him again. Maybe to be free. They told me he— I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to see with my own eyes and remember what we had. It is a stupid thought in retrospect, considering what I know now, but you have to understand that those two months were the best thing that happened in my life. I know it sounds sad, but I didn’t have it great, not always. You have to be a peculiar type of person to fuck a clergyman, I guess, to look at that life choice and pretend it’s a good one. But Jonathan wasn’t like other men. Jonathan was perfect.

—

Sally was waiting for her sister to come back home. She looked around for the comfort of the window, anticipating, with an anxious heartbeat, for the car to arrive at the door. She hopped on one foot, then the other, then checked the cupboard for more muffins, then the cooking books her sister kept on the white shelves, beside the potted plants. Nothing was enough. She ended up at the counter again.

At present, the place where Sally stood in was a perfectly suburban kitchen. It was immaculate in its tidying and cleaning, thanks to the matriarch of the house, Susan “Said” Brady, née Elmer, the eldest of the Elmer daughters. Sally was the youngest and Sandra was the middle child, and now was finishing her art course at an university. There was a difference of roughly eight years between Susan and Sally, which would put the eldest at twenty-five, nearly twenty-six and the youngest at a measly eighteen, which she loathed with all her might.

“What’s taking her so long?” Sally wondered, supporting her face on her hand and playing with her brother in law’s car keys, a car that was parked at the garage and that she looked at as if it was some sort of demon “She should be here…”

Sally looked at the glistening metal and at the chipped, black top, that was scratched all over and sighed a dramatic sigh that only someone that had been waiting an awfully long time could make sound so incredibly disgruntled and miserable.

“How you holding up, Sal?” a male voice asked and she jumped in place, making her long ponytail move up at an alarming speed “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare yo—Ouch!” he continued, after she playfully hit his arm. It was just David, her sister’s husband.

Her sister’s perfect husband.

“I’m okay,” she answered with a shrug, “Just worried about Said, that’s all.”

“Oh, she’ll be home soon. She had to go to Betty’s house to help her with the baby, these things take time. Sometimes even a whole night. You know how she gets over that kinda stuff, especially now that Betty’s husband died. Saint Susan,” he joked, looking a tad uncomfortable. Sally wondered what it was about, that uncharacteristic smile, but David’s teeth were perfect, so she couldn’t concentrate on much “She had no idea you’d be arriving today, otherwise I am sure that she would have thrown a party.”

The Elmer family was from California, but Susan lived in North Carolina now and Sandra went to college in New York, leaving poor Sally stranded back home. She usually spoke with her sisters over on the telephone whenever she could, and even if San usually had time for her, Susan was a respectful family woman now, a far cry from the unruly teenager that a five to nine year old Sally admired so much.

“I’m so sorry, Sal,” she’d say to Sally, over the telephone, sounding clearly tired enough to pass out right there “I can’t really talk right now, David is having a situation at work and I need to go there to help him, then to church to assist in the fundraiser that I’m helping the ladies with. It’s all a chaos right now. I’ll call you back, yeah?”

“Yeah…” Sal answered in the present, lowering her head and finding herself unable to hide her discontentment from David. Either that, or not wanting to. He lowered his head to look at her better, which made her smile.

“Don’t worry, Sal,” he said, with a smile “She’ll be here in a jiffy.”

—

A jiffy turned out to be fifty minutes more, which Sally used to unpack her things and occupy the guest bedroom, making sure to put up her posters. It was like preparation for college, if she decided to go. She was to stay for one month, and her parents hoped that one month with her best, most responsible sister would be enough to dissuade her of the idea of a sabbatical year. Shrugging that off, she took the next poster in hands. No way would she forget to pin up her Tears for Fears poster, or her Culture Club one. It was a far cry from the Beatles in the sixties, whom insisted in staying black and white for so long they became a stupid fucking band towards the end, just to break up over a dumb bitch.

At least that’s what she heard her friend Brittany say.

“That Yoko Ono woman is the worst fucking bitch there is,” she’d say in the bathroom of their school, when both were sixteen and Brittany hadn’t graduated and gone off to live with her boyfriend.

“Why?” Sally would ask, shamefully coughing through the drag she took of the cigarette offered, the smoke filling her lungs as her system tried to expel it back out. Brittany pretended not to notice. They were close like that.

“Well,” she turned around, her brown hair swooshing around her in a halo, putting her arm on top of the cold, white sink. “Simple,” Sally, engulfed in a white cloud, passed her the cigarette, which she dragged on without any issues “You don’t cheat on your husband and then steal another woman’s man in the process. It’s not even sanitary, for Christ’s sake. You got a dick and you go after another? She probably got a venereal disease,” Sally chuckled at that.

“Maybe you’re right… I mean, cheating is wrong, obviously” Sally said, adding the last part to not sound so dull. She wanted to agree with Brittany because Brittany was older, but, even though she knew she was correct, it just made her sound pathetically young, a toddler by comparison. When Brittany turned again, Sally pretended she wasn’t looking.

“Cheating. Is. Wrong,” Brittany agreed, putting emphasis on every single word with a swing of the cigarette hand, before taking another drag. She blew out the smoke in a circle, to a starry eyed audience “Remember that,” Brittany continued, tapping the cigarette on the sink “My dad went with that dumb bank cashier and no good came to either him or my mom. Or the bank cashier for that matter. It’s all a fucking mess. If you wanna hear my opinion, you find someone you like and you mate for life. Got it, kid?” Sally nodded.

“Got it,” she said, smiling.

“Good girl.” She turned to look at herself in the mirror, “Now, sex is different of course.”

Sally was aware that Brittany had several sexual partners. In fact, everyone in school was. It didn’t bother her, but they needed to meet in the bathroom, something about both of her reputations being in jeopardy if anyone saw them together. Such as high school goes.

“Of course,” Sally answered. “Of course.”

“Sal?!” David yelled, bringing her out of the trancelike state she found herself in and making her realize she had been staring right at Boy George’s face the whole time.

“Yeah?!”

“I think I see Said’s car turning the corner!” in a moment, Sally nearly jumped over the perfectly made bed (with her favorite bedsheets from home, which she insisted in bringing), and ran out of the room, nearly slipping on her socks before the promised land could be reached.

“Woah, there!” David said, catching her at the nick of time, looking into her eyes “Be careful, kid!”

“Got it!” she said, nearly pushing him away, running the remaining distance and opening the door with such gusto David had been certain it might come off of its hinges.

“Hey Said!” Sally began, all smiles, trying to still her ponytail as much as she could, before taking a glance at the woman leaving the shiny silver car, amidst the illuminated trees. On first glance, all was well – Susan hadn’t forgotten her scarf or purse, like she usually did, being so forgetful. Her hair was in place, her clothes were as if they had been put on at that same minute and her countenance seemed serene. But there was something wrong.

Her sister’s face twitched into a smile.

“Hello, Sal,” she said, and the words were so odd coming out, as if it was the first time they were being said. Sally instinctively stepped back “How are you doing?”

“I’m… fine.”

“I didn’t know you’d arrive today.”

“Yeah. My plane, uh, landed three hours ago. David came to pick me up at the airport.”

“Oh, did he? I must thank him.” Sally observed as her sister seemingly drank in the environment she was in – the other houses, perfectly aligned and white, the lawns, the sidewalk, her own well-manicured hands (Susan was always great at painting nails, while Sally was a poor slob). She looked past her, at the blue door, the living room and David, also standing by the door.

“Said?” Sally asked, finally, but not without some reserve, uncharacteristic to her. Susan looked over.

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?” her face twitched into a smile again.

“Of course,” Susan answered and closed the door of the car with an exaggerated bang, which made both David and Sally step back a half inch. That went unnoticed by Said “I’m quite fine, just tired” were her next words.

“I can tell,” Sally answered, determined to seem well-humored in spite of it all. She took to the three steps in front of the house running, even if only in socks, towards her most beloved sister, before opening her arms and engulfing her into a hug. For being in heels, Susan was taller than her at the moment. Sally felt as if seized by a giant.

“You’re so cold!” she exclaimed, feeling her sister’s hand on her neck.

“Maybe you’re too warm; and you shrunk!” Susan joked with a chuckle. That was more like it. Good old Said.

“You’re cheating. I’m not wearing heels!”

“You could be, though, you are a woman now after all,” she smiled down at her, a smile that Sally, quite frankly, had never seen on her sister’s face. She looked into her eyes. Susan’s were blue, she being the only one amongst the three Elmer daughters that had been fortunate enough to inherit their mother’s eyes instead of the “dull brown” of their father’s. Sally hadn’t envied that per se, even though she had grown up hearing Susan get complimented over them. She thought blue eyes made a person look slightly off, maybe evil, which was somewhat of an unpopular opinion she rarely expressed. Her sister, however, wore hers well. It was impossible to accuse her eyes of not expressing anything, they were the very door to her most heartfelt emotions – they spoke when she was sad, they spoke when she was glad. There was nothing she could do to tame such an outburst. It was her very nature to be that way.

That night, however, Sally found her sister’s eyes to be the very cold she never envied.

“Let’s go inside,” Susan said, taking her sister’s arm into hers. She guided Sally there, but the latter made sure to look at the ground instead of Said’s eyes. Her sister’s black velvet heels glanced back at her. Were her stockings ripped? What happened?

“Hello David,” Susan said, breaking Sally’s trance. She was looking at her husband with a smile. “How have you been?” David chuckled, maybe put off by the way that Susan phrased the question. Why so formal all of a sudden?

“Well, I’ve been good! What about you? How’s Betty?”

“She’s wonderful,” was the simple answer. “Dinner?”

While Susan worked in the kitchen, going back and forth amongst the pans, Sally observed her from the couch. She was separated by the dining table and chairs, which made her feel safer. From what, she didn’t know. What she did know was that she should be helping – that’s what good sisters, women, and guests do, after all – but instead she preferred to watch. Almost as if perceiving the fact, however, Susan halted in the middle of the kitchen.

“Is everything okay, Sal?” she asked, not looking at her, but at the sink. Sally turned around fast, burying herself into the couch as if to say she had never known to look in the first place.

“Yeah, of course!” she answered, sounding as casual as possible, completing with “I’ mean, I’m here with you, duh!”

“Oh, isn’t that sweet?” Susan asked, dutifully resuming her activities. There wasn’t a hint of sweetness in her tone, though. It felt to Sally almost condescending, as if she was looking down on her for being a little girl.

“Uh, there are muffins in the cupboard,” Sally decided to say, even if to hear her own voice being echoed “David and I bought them on the way from the airport.”

“Yum,” was all the answer she got. The pans continued moving and the stove was lit up. After ten minutes of mindless television, Sally lifted her head to look over the cushion behind her head and found her sister looking straight at her.

“Dinner’s almost ready. Why don’t you set the table, hmm?”

“Sure.” Obediently, Sally turned the TV off and got up from the couch. She went straight for the lower cupboard, having been in the house before and knowing that her sister liked to keep things at reach. From the other side of the kitchen, Susan watched.

“How was your trip, Sal?”

“Good, thanks!”

“Are mom and dad quite alright?”

“Yeah, they’re fine.” Sally put the plain, white plates over the counter, with the shiny glass cups next.

“Hmm,” she hummed “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your graduation. Things were hectic.”

“Yeah, it’s okay. At least we get to see each other now.”

Susan smiled.

“Yes. At least that.” Sally carried the cups and plates over to the table and began to spread them out, when she spoke up again “You know what, I’ll take care of the rest; will you please tell David dinner’s ready?”

“Sure,” Sally said, turning around and going down the hallway. With each step, the typewriter keys banged louder. David was really going at it, Sally thought. Upon arrival, she knocked.

“Yeah?!” The muffled voice answered from the inside.

“Hi David, dinner’s ready!”

“Already? Said is getting quick!”

“Yeah,” Sally agreed, but not with much enthusiasm. She prepared herself to turn around, when a cold hand slowly closed upon her shoulder, each well-manicured finger leaving a different, subtle feeling.

“Is he coming out?” Susan’s voice sounded behind her, a velvety quality having been added to it. Had she walked there? Sally hadn’t heard a thing. She instinctively looked down at her sister’s heels.

“Yeah, I’m coming right out,” David’s muffled voice answered, his chair moving almost immediately afterwards.

“Good. Let’s go, Sal,” she said and steered her away from the door once more.

“Are you sure you are okay, Said?” Sally asked as they crossed the hallway back to the dining room with David’s door opening behind them. Susan smiled; her arm wrapped around her sister’s shoulder now.

“Of course, darling. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re… different.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know…”

“Oh, Sal, don’t be ridiculous,” Susan continued, changing her tone so fast that Sally’s eyes darted towards her face, mouth slightly ajar “I just had a rough night with Betty, that’s all, and I’m tired. I can’t wait to eat and go to bed!”

“Yeah… But these are the most words you said to me all night. I thought you’d be happy to see me!”

“Oh, I am happy to see you, silly!” she continued, animated, standing in front of her sister now. When Sally looked into her eyes, though, they were still cold “You’re my little sister, I am always happy to see you!”

“Aren’t we all?” David sounded behind them, making them turn their heads “Good little Sally,” he said, flicking her ponytail up. “Shall we eat? I’m starving!”

“Sure, I’ll serve,” Susan said, leaving with David. Sally stood there and looked upon the two of them.

—

Dinner went as all dinners with Said and David usually go. Susan seemed as she had always been: Lively, telling Sally not to talk to Brittany anymore:

“A girl like that is not good. I would know.”

Telling Sally she’s proud of her grades:

“She’s even smarter than Sandra and Sandra was smart! It’s no wonder she’s in early acceptance at—”

Telling Sally she should go to church more often:

“A good relationship with God is essential to all of us, remember that young lady,” but at once Sally noticed her cross was missing. When she pointed that out, Susan looked and stroked her empty collarbone.

“Oh no, I must have left it at Betty’s!” she said, “Oh, I was so afraid the baby might grip onto it and tear it that I had to remove it, you know how babies can be.” Sally drank her orange juice and looked down at her plate.

“You never take that thing off!” David said, his mouth slightly ajar “That’s a first.”

“Yeah, it was a gift from our grandma,” Sally clarified, looking at David “It has “immensurable sentimental value”. It was gifted to her right before she died.” Susan’s smile twitched.

“Yes, well, that is true, which is why I needed to make sure it wouldn’t break, of course,” she took her wine glass and sipped the content of it. Sally nodded. That made sense to her, of course.

“What is Betty’s baby name again? I don’t think you ever told me,” David asked next, finishing her orange juice. Susan finished drinking as well and looked over at him.

“Oh, I think it’s Kayla. Right, sis?” Sally asked, looking up. Susan smiled warmly at her, like a nice hug.

“Yes, of course, Kayla. Little Kay. She’s just two months old, but she’s getting so big.”

Huh.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it, Said,” David said, sounding genuine, or as genuine as someone could sound with food in their mouth. Sally could see her sister’s face contorting to that, that despicable display of speaking with one’s mouth full, even if in trace amounts – as if it was a great offense. That was also strange, of course. Said doesn’t usually care about that kind of thing.

“Yeah, great!” Sally decided to add and then immediately ask to be excused. When allowed, she bid her good nights, saying “I had a long trip and I want to get some rest,” before running for the refuge of her bedroom. Once the door was closed and she was “safe”, she allowed herself to think freely.

Betty’s baby’s name was not Kayla, it was Kimberly. It was not a difficult leap to be made and Susan was allegedly exhausted, but her sister would never make that mistake. Not Susan. Betty was too dear a friend.

Looking back upon the doorknob, Sally verified if the key was on the lock.

“Ok, Sal, this is ridiculous,” she thought to herself, but couldn’t help it. She turned it, at a torturous pace, as to not alert the rest of the house, and locked herself in.

–

When Sally opened her eyes again, she wasn’t in the guest room of the Brady house – She wasn’t engulfed in her favorite bedsheets from home or looking at Boy George’s face as she had been, once upon a time. In fact, she couldn’t see anything in front of her, other than the pale spot the moon seemed to illuminate, from over at the only window. The bricks around the place were gray and there were soft, white curtains being gently blown by the air current.

“Hello,” a male voice sounded behind her, making her jump for the second time in what seemed to be the most Sally had jumped in her life. Turning around, she was faced with a small man, almost her height, with soft looking brown hair. He had green eyes and a charming smile… With a touch of something else.

“Hello…” Sally began, her position indicating her mounting discomfort, one hand behind herself and one foot ready to go at any minute “Who are you?”

“Jonathan,” he introduced himself with a small bow “I’m a… Friend of your sister.”

“Said never mentioned you.” He faced away from her and gave a light chuckle.

“There’s a lot of things Said didn’t mention.”

“Sure…” was all Sally could think to say. Was this a dream? “Where are we?”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” he said, with some joviality on the “Oh,” which made his voice higher. His voice was interesting, Sally thought. It was almost soothing, but seemed like could go off and become loud at any moment. He had an interesting way of standing too, very straight and almost controlled “You’re Sally.”

“Yes… How do you know that?” Sally asked, but he simply smiled. He wouldn’t take his eyes off of her. Usually, Sally didn’t mind when a beautiful man paid attention to her, she wasn’t stupid to think that any of them were interested, and truthfully she didn’t know if she was interested in them. It was just a pastime. This time, however, she curiously wanted him to stop “Where are w—"

“I already said that isn’t important.” Sally took a step back at the answer, which sounded much more forceful than his words had before. They were at an impasse now, looking at one another “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Sally didn’t believe that for a second, that man was too strange.

“How do you know my sister?” She asked next, looking at his clothes for the first time “Are you… A priest?”

“Yes,” he began, amused, touching his collar reflexively “A servant of the Lord. No more, no less.”

“Oh, so you know Said from church?” he paused, his green eyes glistening and his smile growing ever so slightly.

“Something like that.” He approached her and Sally instinctively went backwards “I, however, am here for you Sally.”

“For me?”

“Yes,” he smiled “You are very similar to your sister, after all. Did you know that?” he asked, stopping his advances and prompting her to halt too “Except for the eyes, of course, but I feel like you know that. Your sister, she’s… Somewhere else now. Somewhere no one can quite reach. It’s far away. Even I have never been… But I know people who have.”

“What do you mean by that?” Sally asked and Jonathan laughed, making her shrink.

“You really are an ignorant little one. Tell me, did you notice anything strange with Said lately?”

“I’ve only come over from California yesterday or…” she paused, but he picked up.

“…Or was it today?” She couldn’t remember.

“Well, doesn’t matter,” Sally said, finally.

“No, it doesn’t. Time doesn’t mean much anyway. Your sister was stuck here once for a time, but she got out,” he smiled yet again “Oh, she got out alright.”

“I can’t imagine Said being in this kind of place,” Sally said, confident of it.

“You can’t imagine much of what your sister was actually like. She was good at pretending to be something she is not. Tell me, do you trust her?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Yes? Would you trust her even if her skin was a bit too cold or if she forgot her friend’s baby name? Would you trust her even if, against your better judgement, you felt threatened by her presence?” Sally couldn’t answer “Oh, little Sally,” he approached her again and this time she let him “You are still too young, too naïve. One day, you’ll figure it out. You’ll…”

“Sally?” David’s voice spoke through the walls of the strange place, interrupting the other man’s speech. Sally looked around.

“David?”

“Oh, David, David…!” Jonathan said, with scorn she wasn’t expecting, nearly supplicant. He looked at Sally “I must go now. Goodbye, little Sally.”

“Sally?” David slightly shook the young woman and was taken aback by how violently she was brought to her senses, as if terrified of something “Hey, hey, take it easy. Relax. We have breakfast, Said told me to wake you up before going to work,” he looked at her closely “Are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?”

“Yeah… I’m fine, though.”

“Good… Anyway, get up. Breakfast is getting cold,” he smiled at her and then went out of the room.

Sally got up and took a deep breath. It had been a dream, of course. How else could she have woken up in a stupid… Tower? Is that was it was? Definitely looked like one. Like Rapunzel’s, from the book she had when she was a little girl that Said used to read to her when she was nine. Even an unruly teenager has a soft spot for children. What did Jonathan mean by “Your sister is not what she seems” or whatever it was he said? She could only remember bits and parts now.

“Hi Sal,” another voice sounded from the door and she immediately raised her head. There, standing in full, long white nightgown and robe to match, was her sister Susan “Will you come eat?”

“Yeah, as I told David I’ll be right out.”

“David told me you had a bad dream.” Had he? Sally wondered. He was there five seconds ago.

“Yeah, but it’ll pass.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing a good breakfast can’t heal. Off you go, c’mon.” Obliging, Sally got up from bed and followed her sister.

The breakfast table was full. There was orange juice, what seemed to be more than a dozen fried eggs, a pile of bacon, fresh fruit, hashbrowns, waffles, and French toast.

“Wow, Said,” Sally couldn’t help but be shocked “When did you do all this?” Susan shrugged.

“I got up early, couldn’t sleep. I kept hearing this noise in the walls...”

“In the walls? When? What noise?” David asked, fast enough to sound like it was just one question, and Sally noticed, for the first time, that he had been diligently eating while they talked.

“Sounded like rats,” Susan said, simply shrugging “You know how they like to roam walls.”

“We never had rats in this house,” David said, looking at a fixed point of the table “However, I think the Johnsons said something about mice. I should get it checked, kill them while it’s time.”

“Oh, don’t!” Susan said, looking at her husband fixedly “They’re God’s creatures!”

“Rats?!” David interjected “Rats are not God’s creatures, honey. They’re a plague. You keep filling your head with that bible stuff and look at you now. No, we need to eradicate these rats, if there are any, which I’m not saying there aren’t” he raised his hands defensively, before resuming his eating “I’ll find someone to look at it for you and tell us definitely, how about that?” Susan didn’t answer, but stared instead.

“Great!” Sally did the talking, putting her hand on her sister’s arm and then removing it. Still cold. “That sounds great, David.”

“Yes. Great.”

“Good!” David said next, finishing his food and getting up “I’ll put this in the sink for you.” When he passed them by, he kissed his wife on the cheek. Susan smiled at him warmly, but Sally saw when she raised her hand and cleaned her cheek. “I’m off to work now. You two behave, will you?”

“Absolutely,” Susan said, still smiling. Sally smiled too. With a last wave, David closed the door behind him and made his way to the car that Sally stared at the previous night as if it was a demon. Now, she couldn’t fight the feeling arising in her chest: She wished Susan had never come back, as stupid as that sounded.

“So, it’s just us girls!” Susan said, smiling at her too “Now, you should eat. Sit down.” Sally did so, looking at her sister all the way to her chair, which she occupied “Care to talk about your dream, darling?”

“Oh, it was nothing.”

“I doubt that. You seem very pale.” Sally instinctively lifted a hand to her face while Susan put some eggs on her plate, “You can trust me, you know? I’m your sister,” Sally’s eyes immediately went to Susan. What did Jonathan say again?

“Yes, I know,” Sally began “I just don’t feel like talking about it.”

“That’s okay. Now, I need to go to church today. Will you be coming with me?”

“Uh, do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Ok then,” Sally said, serving herself of a portion of each thing that was at the table “Said, this is a lot of food. What are you gonna do with the rest?”

“Oh, I’ll pack it and bring over to church too. There’s always people there who need it.”

That seemed like a reasonable enough answer.

In a second, everything was over and Sally was leaving the table to change. She took a glance at Susan’s plate before that, though, and saw the eggs were untouched.

“You’re not gonna eat?” Susan looked down.

“Oh, where’s my head, of course!” Good old Said, Sally thought to herself, going from one foot to the other absently, always forgetting things. Always.

–

“Here we are,” Susan said, parking the car in front of the church. Sally looked over her sister’s body. Yep, it was the same as she remembered from her previous visits “Care to help me carry the boxes in there?”

“Yeah, sure.” They stepped out of the car and it was a second to open the trunk, get the boxes, cross the street and enter. The church was truly fuller than Sally had thought, but it was the weekend.

“Hello, hello!” Susan said to everyone. Sally didn’t know anyone there, so she fell behind. Everyone seemed to adore her sister, but that wasn’t really a surprise. Said was incredible, of course.

“I’ll carry some boxes over there!” she said, indicating what she had in hands with her head when Susan turned. Said nodded affirmatively and soon Sally was off to a nearby table.

Putting the box down, she turned her body back to find her sister, but the latter had disappeared.

“What the…?” Sally said.

“What’s wrong hon?” A woman with short, pitch black hair in a bob cut asked. Sally had not noticed her there. She was carrying a baby, wrapped in a pink towel “Wait, are you Said’s sister?”

“…Yes.”

“Oh, which one?! Sandra…? Sally…? Sally? Oh, Said told me all about you!” She was all smiles now, bouncing the baby up and down “She didn’t tell me she was back from her trip!”

“Trip? What trip?” The woman stopped now.

“Well, that trip that Said told me she and David would take, to celebrate their anniversary! Or something like that,” she didn’t seem sure, but continued anyway “She said it was gonna be a long one, that he was taking all of his weeks off; and then she’d be off to see her family. I had no idea you’d be coming over! Did you come back with her?”

“…Yeah, something like that. Are you by any chance Betty?”

“Yes!” Betty said, excited “She told you about me?”

“Oh yes, she did. She told me all about you. Congratulations on the baby!” Betty waved her hand.

“Oh please, this? She’s just the light of my life. Little Kimmie… I can’t wait for your sister to meet her. She was so excited for her arrival, just as much as me.” Sally went mute for a long second, looking at the baby being bounced up and down. The girl slept so peacefully; it was as if she never found a moment of chaos around her. Sally wondered what kinds of dreams must she be having?

“I’m so sorry, Betty,” she began again, with a tentative smile “Will you excuse me? My sister is somewhere around here, and I can’t find her…”

“Oh, darling, absolutely!” Betty, ever the best said, looking at the general direction of the other groups of people “Tell her when you find her that I said hi and that I am waiting for her to visit me! I’ll make blueberry muffins, her favorites!”

“I’ll tell her, thank you Betty. Goodbye!” Sally said, at once stepping away from the gentle woman and rushing, as much as she could in a church without attracting attention to herself, towards the backdoor. If Said wasn’t around the main hall, then she could only be at the back. With some difficulty she opened the old, wooden door. No one stopped her from entering, so she figured it was fine.

The back of the church was a simpler building. The walls were beige, quaint, and the lights were yellow. All were on at the moment Sally took her steps through the hallway.

“Said?” She asked the nothingness. There was no answer, so she decided to keep going “Saaaaid?” The hallway was echoing her footsteps back at her and the place, for being so beige, seemed almost endless. She could feel a certain brand of loneliness coming from the environment itself. How many priests had roamed this place, she wondered? How many nuns, how many boys and girls?

At the end, around the corner, she started to hear noises. They sounded wet, like someone was making out, hidden away from the world, like teenagers. Feebly, she tried:

“Said?” Her words barely left her lips. She kept going, silently this time, masquerading the sounds of her footsteps by gradually slowing her pace, until…

“Sally!” Susan said, at once separating from the man she had been kissing – or even more, considering the motion he made towards his pants – and moving closer to the wall “What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, you’re not supposed to be here,” the man said, as if he was in any position of chastising her. Sally couldn’t believe it.

“You can’t imagine much of what your sister was actually like. She was good at pretending to be something she is not. Tell me, do you trust her?”

“I wanna go home.”

“Would you trust her even if her skin was a bit too cold or if she forgot her friend’s baby name?”

“Yes, of course,” Susan said, trying to smile at her, even if painfully. The man looked at her and, coldly, she said a simple “Leave.” As if under a spell, he obliged and went away, looking down and avoiding Sally’s face.

“Betty told me to tell you to say hi,” Sally decided to say, defiantly looking within her sister’s cold, dead eyes “She said she can’t wait for you to meet her baby.”

–

Before leaving, Susan did talk to Betty. All Sally did was stand by the church’s front door and observe them, watch as Said gushed over the child. Who was that woman? It wasn’t her sister, that’s for sure. Jonathan had said… Something about her sister being someplace far away. What the hell did he mean by that?

“Ok, all done,” Susan said, coming towards Sally “We can go now.” All Sally did was nod faintly and turn around, determined to get to the car as soon as possible. Once in, she looked only at the road while her sister dutifully drove, also just as focused, at least at the beginning.

“Sal, what you saw at the church…”

“Spare me,” Sally said “I can’t believe you are cheating on David. It isn’t even…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. It isn’t even sanitary,” instead of scolding, Sally got a laugh back. It seemed so out of place she abruptly turned her head to finally look at her sister. Susan had a wide smile on, with all of her teeth showing.

“Would you trust her even if, against your better judgement, you felt threatened by her presence?”

“Stop that, Said,” Sally began, but the woman kept laughing “Said!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Sal. Did your little friend Brittany teach you that sanitary talk? I bet. You two talked about sex all the time.”

“So what if we did? That’s none of your business!”

“Oh yes, why not? Don’t you trust your big sister?” She was still smiling when she turned to look at the road again “We’re almost home. I’m gonna drop you off and go do some grocery shopping.”

“I’m sure. It’s not like you lied before.”

“My life is no concern of yours, Sal. One day, you’ll be old enough to understand what it’s like to have a marriage like mine.” She pulled the handbrake and the sound startled Sally as much as anything else. “Go out now. I’ll talk to you later, darling.” Sally looked at her sister in mute indignation before resigning and opening the car door. With a last smile, Susan said “Goodbye, little Sally.”

“What did you c—” but at the moment she turned around, her sister had already turned the car back on and driven off.

—

Sally got through dinner somehow. Said did come back with groceries and right at the nick of time: David arrived with her and the two shared a passionate kiss together. When they were done, he seemed a little tired.

“Are you okay, David?” Sally asked, observing his countenance. He gave her a weak smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just couldn’t sleep properly last night. That’s all.” Susan looked from one to the other. Sally could tell that she was afraid anything would come out of her mouth, so she kept it shut and excused herself extra early. For one reason or another, David barely argued against that and she was off to bed.

Once the door was closed, she didn’t mind to hide the locking sound this time. She wanted Susan to hear it. Sally wasn’t a child; she knew infidelity was normal. However, she also thought her sister would never cheat on someone like David. He was the perfect man! She said so herself. I mean, she did, right?

“So, you and your boyfriend are getting pretty serious, right?” Sally asked, looking at Brittany doing her make up at the school mirror. They were extra early this time, to avoid a crowd. Last time they wanted to talk, people kept coming in and out and it wasn’t exactly the ideal scenario. She smiled before answering.

“Yeah. Billy and I are gonna move in together after graduation. He’s got a house behind his parents’ and etc. They’re loaded, but want nothing to do with him, etc. Obviously they want nothing to do with me either.”

“That sucks,” Sally said, but Brittany shrugged.

“It’s what it is, kid. Life’s never perfect.”

“Are you two gonna be okay together?” Brittany looked at her.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Sally adjusted her jacket and poufy hair a little in front of the mirror, even though she knew it would never stay that voluminous “You have no money together.”

“Oh, we’ll get by. What did I tell you, kid? Catch one and keep ‘em for life. That’s Billy and me. Never one without the other.”

“Hmm…” Sally said “My sister married young too, she was eighteen.”

“Nobody said anything about marrying, but go on,” Sally did.

“Well, she met her husband when they were both in High School. They seem like the perfect couple, but…”

“But?”

“Well…” Sally looked at her friend “One time she called me, Said did, I mean. And she was crying I guess. Something about David.”

“Did she tell you what it was?” Sally waved her head.

“No. It was the last time she ever even mentioned it. I think she regretted calling me. I wish I had the guts to ask what the hell it was all about.”

“Well, I think he was probably a dick to her. He probably didn’t turn out to be what she expected to be. Maybe he cheated. The usual story.”

“Not David,” Sally said, resolute. Brittany looked at her for a second, red lip liner in hand. Sally thought that, like that, she looked like a worse for wear Kelly Kapowski from Saved By The Bell. Like a Kelly Kapowski that had cigarettes burned onto her skin multiple times, but remained beautiful and incredible through gritted teeth.

“Suit yourself,” it was all Brittany said before turning back to the mirror and finishing her lips.

—

When she woke up back at the strange tower from last night, Sally wasn’t surprised. She looked around with little interest until Jonathan showed back up again.

“Sally,” he said, with that usual voice of his. She smiled at him briefly.

“Jonathan.”

“You’re back.

“Not on my own volition.”

“Oh, I’m sure not. You wouldn’t do that, of course.” Sally crossed her arms “How’s your sister?”

“She’s fine.”

“That’s not what I see.”

“What do you mean by see?” Jonathan lowered his head and smiled.

“I can see you. Your head, I mean. I know everything you know when I appear in your dreams. It’s a… Subconscious thing, of course. I’m not really here. Neither are you.”

“Where are you then?” Instead of from right in front of her, Sally heard the answer from right behind herself.

“Somewhere else…” he whispered in her ear, startling her. She rapidly turned around, but he was gone. In his place, there was a shadow of something else.

“What is that?” she asked, looking closer at the floor. There, a dead carcass of what seemed to have once been a rat was, inside a rat trap. She flew back immediately, in time to hear what seemed to be Jonathan cackling.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Sally asked, almost yelling now.

“Don’t you know, you ignorant little girl?” A third voice asked and Sally looked at its direction, by the illuminated window. There, a man in robes was sitting, his face bloody and mashed in, with an air of unsurmountable sadness “You’re just like your sister, oh…”

“What do you know about my sister?” She asked, approaching the man. He didn’t make a move at first, but upon further inspection, Sally realized he was waving his head.

“Unfortunately, I know all about your sister. I know all about what she and that man Jonathan did in this filthy room for two months, about their desire, their consummation, their screams of unbridled passion.”

“What?!” Sally’s face contorted in an ugly frown “You’re lying!”

“Am I?!” He asked, his voice going louder than she thought possible, making her instinctively raise her hands to her ears “Am I?! Wasn’t she doing the same back in the church today? Oh, dead people see it all, little girl. That Jonathan man… He wants you too. He can’t have your body in its physical form though, she won’t let him.”

“Who?!”

“Your sister! He has her body, he has it, but she’s still in there, in their collective head. Oh, she was supposed to be somewhere else. She was supposed to be in Hell!”

“Sally?” Susan asked, gently shaking her sister “Saaally…?” She asked again, singing the name like a siren’s song. When Sally bolted awake, she smiled “Good morning sleepyhead. David has gone off to work already so I came to wake you up. Have you slept well today?”

Sally did nothing but stare at first, before smiling.

“Yeah, I did. Do we have breakfast?”

—

While they ate, Sally took to observing Susan again. She was humming to herself while spreading some jam on her toast, before biting onto it so hard, the crunch of the bread almost made Sally cry. She didn’t realize she had been so on edge until her hands started trembling. She needed to keep it together. First of all, nothing indicated that her dream was true, after all how crazy was that? Just because her sister was cheating on her husband – who may or may not have been an asshole in the past – does not mean that she is possessed by a former lover. That doesn’t make any sense!

“Darling?” Susan asked, looking at Sally’s plate “You have to eat.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sally answered “Right,” but she couldn’t bring herself to “Hey, can I borrow your car?”

“What for?” Sally smiled.

“I wanted to go to church,” Susan smiled at her as well.

“Sure. The keys are in the bowl, but you’re not leaving without eating.”

“Ok, fine,” Sally said, a semblance of normalcy seeping through as she devoured the eggs and drank the orange juice “Satisfied?”

Looking at her, more like leering, Susan smiled.

“Very.”

—

Sally did go to church at first. There, she stood alone, looking at the stained glass windows, the figures of the Lord, at Jesus Christ on the cross. She prayed for the first time in five years and cried to what seemed to be no one. She couldn’t believe she was actually doing what she was doing. What the hell was wrong with her? If she did everything her dreams told her to do, she would have kissed Brittany and told her not to go with Billy, to stay with her. That would have been a bad choice, wouldn’t it? Should she call Brittany now? Would she know what to do? She had before. She always knew what to do. Saint Brittany.

“Saint Said.” She remembered David saying. This was all wrong. He was suspicious of her; Sally knew that now. He had to have known she hadn’t been seeing Betty, that she had been seeing him. Jonathan. She wondered if David even knew Jonathan.

“Miss?” A male voice asked and she turned around. It was a small, old priest, with a kind face. She immediately smiled, but regretted it. She hated priests “May I help you?”

“Oh, no. I’m just… I’ll be right out,” he nodded his frail head and started to turn, when she gathered enough courage to ask “Hey, do you know a priest by the name of Jonathan?” he seemed to stop.

“Jonathan you say?”

“Yeah…”

“Yes. I know a priest by the name of Jonathan, or knew, rather.”

“Do you know what happened to him?” He looked pensive for a second, less confused about the events, but more pondering whether or not he should share them with the young woman in front of him.

“He went up to the tower of a Church a ways from here and took his own life. He had to do so; He had been excommunicated. They found some… Reprehensible things he had been involved in. It’s not really a subject to share with a woman as young as you…” but as he turned to leave, Sally stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Please. I have to know, it’s… Important.” The priest looked up at her.

“What do you want with this information, miss? Wait a minute dearie, aren’t you Susan’s little sister, Sally?” He looked at her closely “Yes, I am recognizing you now. So similar to her except… Yes, her eyes are blue.” He paused, his expression turning to a resigned one as the small priest decided to tell her everything, in light of the new information, perhaps out of pity “He… He had taken a lover somewhere,” he gesticulated vaguely, slowly, gripped by the immobility of old age “I don’t surely recall. She ended in a mental asylum. They also found another one, but she was already in a much better place. He had left her in a deplorable situation, some said “lying in her own blood.” I don’t really recall…”

“Where is this Church you mentioned?” Sally asked, interrupting in a manner that would have seem rude, if not urgent now.

—

Sally took to her car and drove as fast as she could. It wasn’t really a far away drive. The place stood in a town a few minutes from the one they were in now, more deserted too. There were no people on the streets as she slowly drove up to the only church. By the color of the bricks, it looked like the one from her dream alright. The priest told her only one person was at the church at this time, an old woman who took care of the place.

Sally parked and got out of the car at lightning speed, knocking at the door mere ten seconds after getting out of the car. Minutes later, a face emerged. It was probably the old lady that he had mentioned, her hair and make up matched the description she inquired on.

“What are you… Oh. I’m sorry, you’re not her,” the old lady looked at her from top to bottom “Yes. You are certainly not.”

“Hi, I’m Sally,” she said, still breathing with some difficulty, from the running she had done, ignoring the strange introduction, “I’m Susan Brady’s sister.”

“Oh, I see. Her sister.” The old lady snickered “He’s dead, you know? He can’t keep bringing people in like this. It was unethical in life and it’s even more now in death,” she motioned to close the door, but Sally desperately held it open.

“Please, I have to come in. Please,” she supplicated. The old lady looked at her.

“Did he do it to you too?” she asked. Sally couldn’t understand.

“What?” The old lady, however, refrained from answering. Instead, she gave out this cryptic comment:

“You and your sister truly are alike.” Sally stared at her, mute. The old lady stepped away “Go in. It’s all the way upstairs. I’m hoping to not hear anything strange coming from the walls, other than the rats.” Sally, who was going in, stopped.

“The rats?” She asked and the older woman, closing the door, nodded.

“Yes. There were rats in the walls. Curiously, I haven’t been hearing them lately.”

Sally couldn’t hear anything, but Said could. She was hearing rats in the walls.

“They’re God’s creatures…” Sally murmured to herself, like her sister had done before.

“What was that?” the old lady asked, standing with her hands over her stomach, very proper.

“Nothing!” Sally said and took to the stairs “Thank you, I won’t be here long!” once she was gone, the old lady walked towards the vase nearby.

“That’s what the other one said too. They always end up staying too long in that place. Long enough for the worm to get them… That vermin,” she looked up in time to see the door closing and locking. With a snicker, she finished “They never learn.”

—

The tower was illuminated this time and she could see everything. Sally looked around herself and observed the window, the bed, the empty space and the chair, standing at a strange point of the room. The priest had said he killed himself. Had he jumped from there?

Sally took to the bedroom. All there was, upon first glance, was the bed. It was made perfectly, and Sally suspected the old lady had something to do with it. Looking to the side, however, there was a table full of books. She assumed they belonged to the deceased. Why they were still there was the mystery. Maybe the old lady had a soft spot for Jonathan as well? That would make sense. Sally twisted her face into an ugly frown again. Ugh. He was quite the ladies man, huh?

Shaking her head, she started reading the titles and saw that the one time priest had an obsession with the occult. All of these were about demonic encounters, seals to summon specific demons, what they did and etc. She was surprised he hadn’t been thrown out sooner. Had no one stopped to read what he was researching.

“Sally, you’re here!” A female voice sounded behind her, strikingly familiar to her ears – so much so that she turned around at once – but there was nothing there.

She must be going insane.

“…Susan?” She asked the empty room, rubbing her forearm and immediately regretting it “God, what the hell is wrong with me?” was the next question, followed by quite a loud kick to the table, which shook everything on top of it, from candlesticks to books. She was dreaming of real dead clergymen she had never met, dreaming of also dead rats and now she was hearing voices which could only belong to her sister, who was supposedly at her house, far away. What had become of her life? She wondered, madly, if any boys would still like her if she was insane. She also wondered if Brittany would, back at home, with her boyfriend.

“Sally!” The voice sounded again, but this time behind her. Closing her eyes, as if to wish it away, she realized there was nothing she could truly do. She would either leave now, which was inherently unsatisfying, or she would turn around and see if there really was someone behind her. It was that or the mental hospital. Come to think of it, maybe it was the mental hospital anyway.

Slowly, but surely, Sally turned. There, in full display, was a pale reproduction of her sister Said, in her full glory. She was wearing the same clothes she wore on the first day Sally came to her house, the black skirt and white blouse. The scarf was nowhere to be seen, however, and around Susan’s neck, Sally noticed, were grotesque rope marks.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!” Susan said and took to hugging her little sister, for the first time in a long time. Sally was shocked that she could even feel her. Ghosts weren’t supposed to be huggable. Right?

“Susan, what is going on?” Was all the thoughts that Sally could voice right now. When they broke off the hug, they locked eyes and she could finally see the emotion back into her sister’s blue eyes.

“I’m sorry, Sally. It’s so horrible, I can’t…” She looked away briefly and then went back to her face, with a smile “I’m so glad you’re here,” she repeated, but continued “I kind of wish you weren’t though. This is no place for you. How did you even find it?”

“This priest at church told me that Jonathan lived here before he killed himself. He told me you and him…” Susan closed her eyes.

“Let’s not talk about Jonathan. I wanna talk about you. How are you?”

“We don’t have time! Look, this might sound insane, although I’m not sure how much more insane than that you are here right now when you were supposed to be home, but I think Jonathan has your body,” Sally looked at the pale semblance of her sister and wanted to cry “I think you’re still in there with him too. I think you’re not all here. This man in my dream told me something about that. He had this completely fucked up face…”

“Oh my God,” Susan said and stepped away from her sister, looking at a fixed point “Yeah, I remember…” when Sally looked too, she saw her sister’s glance was upon the chair “I… I killed myself, Sally.”

“No!” Sally said, covering her mouth with her hands “No, it can’t be! You’re here!” But Susan confirmed the fact with a nod.

“I was so foolish.” She raised her eyes “I thought that he loved me, I genuinely thought that he loved me. Oh, it was all a mess with David. I thought he was seeing someone else. When I confronted him, he threatened to leave me destitute and then did even worse…” She shook her head and lowered her eyes “When I… When I met Jonathan, I didn’t know anything about him other than he was kind. At least I thought so, at the beginning. He was working at our church, but slept here. I wondered why he drove so far every day for work, but then he told me it was because of me – that he had seen me with David, that he needed to have me. It all went wrong from there. He apparently had these other lovers… I was just the next casualty. And there was this rat…”

“Yes!” Sally said, approaching her sister eagerly “I saw the rat! He had a weird appearance and he was dead. The rat was dead!”

“I remember that!” Susan said, agreeing frantically with her head “The rat was caught in this mouse trap and…! And I saw it bleed out!”

“Can you leave this place?” Sally asked next, but Susan adamantly waved her head.

“No. I tried.” Sally instinctively looked over at the table.

“Maybe one of these books can help us,” she ran towards the skewed contents of the once kicked piece of furniture and picked the nearest one. Luckily, it seemed to be the most worn “Wow, Jonathan liked to highlight his books, Jesus.” Pages and pages of the book had words circled or crossed or writing, on the margins. Susan stopped by her sister’s side and raised her hand to her neck reflexively. She was still wearing the cross grandma had given her as a ghost.

“Well, I don’t know if you should mess with these things, Sal…” Susan said, sounding unsure “I think you should go back to mom and dad. That’s what you should do.”

“Absolutely not!” Sally exclaimed, indignant “I came all the way here for you, I am not going to turn back now, I want to see Jonathan dead in his grave forever!” She read the contents of the book now “This seems to be what he did to summon the rat. Here.” She showed it to Said, who intently read “It states that you need to bring a certain amount of sacrifices to this specific demon, you see? He brought the designated amount for sure… But the rat’s dead, or rather the physical form of the demon. He died in the middle of taking the last one, which means that it was never fully completed in the first place!”

“But how does that help us?”

“Well, if your soul is still inside of your body and Jonathan is also there, that means that you’re in half, just like I thought, but… It means Jonathan is also in half.”

“Aren’t you a clever girl?” A male voice echoed through the tower. In a second, Sally saw Susan’s remaining spirit had vanished, and Jonathan, the clergyman, was beside her where she once had stood.

At once, Sally closed the book and stepped away from the now snickering man “Oh, Sally, Sally, Sally…” he took a step towards her, then another… “You are so alike your sister. You can’t stop yourself from digging, can you?”

“Go fuck yourself, Jonathan!” Sally said, backing away towards the wall. He couldn’t help but cackle that stupid laugh of his. Sally had enough “I’m getting my sister back.”

“I don’t think so. You know, I loved your sister,” he said, close enough now to put an arm over her head and his face close to hers “I did,” he was whispering now, inside her ear “I loved her body, that is why I took it for myself. You are so alike her, but… Smarter. Younger. Fresher.” He then did something she could have never foreseen: Slowly and delectably he licked her cheek from jaw to eyebrow. Sally pushed him away from her, but all he did was laugh “Run little Sally! Save your sister! You could never have saved your brother in law!” that made her turn.

“What did you do to David?”

“Oh…” He paused and walked towards her, stopping half-way there “Did you really think he had gone off to work earlier that morning?” Jonathan waved his head “Oh, he was dead, right there in his office. You went right by it and never noticed it.” Shocked and muted yet again by the horror, Sally could only step away and run out of the tower as fast as she could, darting down the stairs. Even at the door, she could still hear the cackle in her ears.

“Gone so soon?” The old lady asked, but all Sally could do was nod, before crossing the threshold towards the parked vehicle. Behind her, the old lady uttered a measly “hmpf,” before closing the door.

—

When Sally parked the car outside of the house, night had already fallen. She turned her head to look at the house, illuminated only by the lampposts. David car was still parked at the garage and she cursed herself for not having looked before taking off that morning. She wondered if Jonathan was telling the truth, but it was useless. He obviously was.

She opened the door and stepped outside, closing it with moderate strength. She didn’t want to alert the neighbors, but she didn’t care if Said, or whatever the hell was in her body, heard her coming. She hoped it did.

Taking to the trunk, Sally stuck the key in the hole and popped it open. There, she brought out a brand new axe. She couldn’t bring herself to get a gun, she didn’t even know why she had that now. It seemed like a stupid precaution. She was not, in any sense, going to axe her sister. Still, she took it with her after closing the trunk and with a deep breath, she faced the house.

—

Inside, it was dark, as if no one was home. She opened the door, which was unlocked, and entered with ease, closing it back up. She looked at the kitchen, the living and dining rooms, and at the hallway, finally. Darkness there and nothing more.

“Said?” Sally asked.

“I’m here, Sally,” her voice came from David’s office. Soon, the door opened and a single light could be seen, yellow in tone “Come.” She started walking, wondering how she could have ever thought that was her sister. She couldn’t distinguish her cadence between that of Jonathan’s now – it was the same, through and through.

Sally wondered what she would see in that office, getting closer with each step. She wanted nothing more to end Jonathan, but she was still apprehensive. What did he do to David? Goddammit… Why was this fucking happening to her? She called upon God again for any help. She didn’t know if he could hear her, but she hoped so. The Devil was there, after all. Why not God?

When she finally reached the door, the first thing she saw was Said, sitting on the chair, smiling at her. Then, beneath her, she noticed the body of David, head bent away from her. His wrists had been slashed and there was blood all over the floor, in puddles.

“Oh my God!”

“Hello, little sister,” Susan said, waving a hand full of blood “I wondered if you were going to come back.” She looked down and pointed with her head at the axe “What’s that you got?”

“Can’t you see it? Are you blind now, or what?” Susan’s smile faded.

“That is no way to talk to your sister!”

“Oh, but you’re not my sister,” Sally stepped into the room, confident now in her words and stride, gripping the axe with force “I went to see you, at the tower – or whatever was left of you, Jonathan.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea of what you’re talking about. Who’s Jonathan?”

“Oh, cut the bullshit!” she said, clenching her free fist “I know it’s you in there, Jonathan and not Susan – Or at least not all of her. Did you know that you’re not full? Did you even notice? Or were you incomplete your entire life, so it didn’t matter?” Susan got up from her chair, a frown in place of the usual smile, and approached her sister, who jumped back, axe ready to strike. At that, she halted.

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Jonathan asked. It was him, through and through. Even if the body belonged to someone else.

“Your despicable familiar, that’s what I’m talking about! He died before bringing Said’s soul to Hell, or whatever the hell! She’s still in there with you.”

“That is impossible!”

“Oh, it’s not!” Sally said “I read your stupid book. You should have taken better care of that freakish rat, might have done you some good!” In a fit of rage, Jonathan darted towards Sally and immediately went for her hair, now loose, trying to grip it. Being faster, she dodged and managed to run away towards the kitchen, with him in her tail.

“Come back here, Sally!” He screamed, “Come back, you bitch!” She turned around to face him from the other side of the counter, where they came to an impasse. They shared a look “Oh, Sally, Sally… You might have read a book, but I’ve read thousands. What are you gonna do, huh? Save your sister?” he snickered, looking more and more like the deceased and less and less like Said “She’s dead! She’s dead!”

“So were you and now look at where we are!”

“Give it up, Sally!”

“Never!” she approached her face to his and said, in a low whisper “You’re gonna go down, little man.” With the small, paused reaction that caused, Sally ran around him, going towards the hallway and straight for the master bedroom.

“NO!!” she heard behind herself, but she was too fast to care about it at this point. At once, she closed the door and locked it, being almost immediately greeted with angry fists begging to be let in, making her back away fast “SALLY!! SALLY!!”

“You’re gonna wake the fucking neighbors, Said!” Sally yelled back as the doorknob was frantically assaulted. She didn’t have time for that. Doing an about face, she examined the walls and the floor closely “Now, if I were a nest of rats, where would I be?”

“SALLY!”

“SHUT UP!!” Sally yelled back “I’m trying to think!” she looked down at the floor. She knew what she had to do. According to the book, Sally needed to destroy any remnants of the familiar there might be. Rats proliferate rather quickly – as a matter of fact, so quickly that anyone would have a rat problem in no time – especially with a demon rat running around like that.

So, Sally took to swinging. First, she tried the walls, which crumbled easily. There was no success to be had there, as she came up mostly empty handed and buried in dust.

“Hope that wasn’t a foundational wall…” she whispered to herself and fixated upon the bed “Wait a minute!” she dropped the axe for a second and used all her might to pull one of the poles away. Surprisingly, the frame wasn’t that heavy, and the years of softball paid off in an immense way. In no time, the bed was out and she could see the scratches, even from the surface “Gotcha.”

“You bitch!” the voice on the other side still yelled, almost sobbed “Oh, I’ll get you for this Sally Elmer! I’ll fucking get you if it’s the last thing I do!” Sally paid no attention to him. He was bitter because he had lost. He had never lost so bad, after all.

She bent down and took the axe in hands, swinging at the floor full force. Soon, the room was filled with the sounds of rats. She swung again and it became louder. The screeching was deafening enough to drive anyone mad, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t doing this for herself, but for Said, for her big sister. That was enough.

At once, she was done. No rats were felt at her feet though, which was strange. When she finally opened her eyes to look at the masterpiece, Sally observed the black hole on the floor. There was… Nothing?

A laugh started at the other side of the door, becoming louder.

“What…? There were supposed to be…” Then she had an idea. Bending over, Sally looked within the hole and, gathering all of her courage, stuck her hand inside. Feeling the darkness, she quickly found what she was looking for and pulled it out.

It was the body of Jonathan’s near lifeless familiar.

He hadn’t procreated, he was barely alive.

“You… Bitch… You whore…” he said, amidst blood gushing out. His throat was barely there.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Are you?”

“Let me in, Sally!” Jonathan said, suddenly desperate again “Let me in and I promise you I’ll love you. I promise I’ll cherish you; I’ll adore you; I’ll fuck you with all my might, every day.” Sally contorted her face in disgust.

“Ew! I don’t think so,” she said and, throwing the rat on the floor, promptly stepped on him, ending his misery and hers.

—

The tower had become cold, or at least the wind indicated so. I couldn’t feel anything in the state I was in at that time. All I could do was sit down and watch the old lady tidy Jonathan’s things up day by day, like a sanctuary. I wondered what she’d think if she knew I was there. Most of the time, though, I wasn’t. I looked through the window and recalled the moments of passion I had spent there with him. It wasn’t worth it, in the end, even if I thought Jonathan was perfect.

When Sally came and went, I thought that I had a chance. I saw her leave and my heart sunk, as much as it could. I didn’t want my little sister to die. I sat in that tower for what seemed like an infinite amount of time – not that before it hadn’t, but it seemed even worse, as if the hours were dragging themselves, behaving like years. Goddammit! Goddammit…!

—

Sally opened the door in a hurry.

“Said?!” She asked, kneeling down to cradle her sister in her arms. She was not responding “Said!! Goddammit, Said, wake up! God…!” she looked up at the ceiling reflexively and then at the dead rat, to make sure. Maybe he was still…? But no. He had turned to mush at this point.

Maybe there was no hope. Maybe Jonathan had fucking won, maybe not the way he wanted to, but the way he could. Maybe he dragged Said to hell with him, leaving her the mess to fix, the dead body in the office, her poor sister…

“S… Sally?” Susan’s voice said, strained, and Sally looked down immediately “What? Where…?”

“Said?!” She exclaimed and hugged her “Oh my God, Said!” she raised her head back again and looked into her sister’s eyes. Yeah, it was definitely her “Oh, I’m so glad you’re alive!”

“Yeah, me too…” Said looked at the master bedroom “What did you do…?” Sally looked back too.

“Oh, I had to do some digging for a stupid rat.”

“Oh…” She looked up at her sister “And David?” Sally’s countenance changed.

“He’s… He’s dead. I’m sorry. Jonathan drove him to suicide as well. I think it was his… Way of doing things.”

“Oh, God…” Susan said, closing her eyes in pain “Will you help me get up?”

“Yeah, sure thing.” Together, the two grunted as they made their way from the floor to their usual heights, now completely equal once again. They looked at the mess they were in “It’s not ideal…”

“No, but we’ll figure it out,” Susan said, sounding confident, positive, more than Sally has ever seen her being. She turned to her sister “Thank you so much, Sally. Thank you!” As the sisters embraced again, the rat bled onto the floor and Jonathan, the Evil Clergyman, would never be back again.

He was finally at his final resting place.

[rosetyler42]

Ericka Pregnancy Dump Part 2!

1. Cute/funny idea I recently came up with of sleepy pregnant Ericka trying to get some work done (I'm sure both in WIR-Verse and in her regular one, she'd try to keep working as long as she can. Even if she gets taken off in-game duties. She's very much the cheerful enthusiastic passionate about her job workaholic like Joy is. And we all know about Joy's Stonetide faceplant.) Mavis of course is helpful, having been there once in a way. And Van Helsing...well, let's just say it's a little bit of payback for the times Ericka's been annoyed by his tendency to take impromptu naps. Not the best idea to be making those jokes next to the daughter of his former rival who's the one of the 3 who's actually BEEN there, but still. He would. XD

2/3. XD I drew Hungry pregnant Ericka. Along with a fun bit of fluff that spun out of it. Yes, I broke my craving rule but him calming her down/distracting her with a kiss is adorable. And it does have the spirit of the idea anyway.

4. Was in the mood for some new mom Ericka stuff. (Again, it's regular Ericka to make it workable for both universes.) When I drew the first one with Drac, I kinda figured Ericka would be wiped out from the end of a twin pregnancy and either birth or a c-cection. So she waited a bit to hold the twins so she could rest up. Thinking about that and the irony of Ericka worrying about being cold since she was raised by her strict, by-the-book Great-Grandfather with how I think she'd actually be (I do love Mama Ericka, whether it's with Mavis or the twins.), It inspired this.

Don't worry, she'll get to the "Look at these! I made these!" Showing the twins off to everybody point eventually. But everyone else had a chance while she was wiped, she wants her moment to bond and she's not letting go of her baby bats that easily.

5. Wanted to draw Ericka curled up asleep in the cape. Ended up being pregnant Ericka. Bonus sleepy Transylvanian and Ericka hugging her bump as she sleeps!

(And she was worried she might be a harsh cold mom, having beem raised by a strict, not-too-affectionate guardian herself.)

6. This one came to me while I was working on a previous idea. I liked the idea of Drac, despite actually being the one killable by sunlight, shielding/sheltering Ericka under his cape. Even better with her being pregnant since pregnancy DOES make your skin more sensitive AND can cause you to overheat since you feel warmer anyway with all the extra bloodflow. Hense this wholesome moment. (This may possibly be in Game Central Station. I've played with the idea that, like Bot Fighter, HT's time zones are flipped since most of the game happens at night.

Bonus:

" Nice hat...Isn't that your monster festival hat?"

"**blushing, looking away** Y-yez. I know it lookz zilly on me, but it'z ztill the mozt protective thing I have. Vell, I mean, bezidez the babushkaz, and-"

"Hmm, well you're hot to me, handsome vamp. **chuckle** ...Seriously, though. I like it. Sure, it's no ax. But...You look charming in ANYTHING."

7. This started out as a gag where Frank (being something of the calmer laid-back one of the group normally and almost the 2nd in command of the pack before Ericka came along. Especially in the first one. He's also kinda Ericka's "big brother" figure I think.) was trying to keep the guys from crowding Ericka trying to touch her bump and ended up being just general "family with a new/expectant mom" chaos of everybody around Ericka and her kind of giggling to herself about being surrounded by all this. I kinda like that, it shows how far my girl has come. Going from being largely on her own, doing for others more than herself, and actually at one point ignored or intimidated when she was upset to being fussed over and surrounded by family. It's sweet.

8. Drew this one a while back based on some fat Serleena screenshots XD (Since Ericka's pregnant with Twins and MIB 2 is also a Columbia Pictures film, I think the comparison is...kinda funny. Plus Ericka WOULD joke about eating people to those who point out how big she's gotten.)

9. I had to do the packs' reaction to finding out about Ericka having twins some point. while all of them ribbing him would be funny, I ended up going a little more with personality: Frank being the happy supportive guy, Murray's the excited one, Wayne's the experienced one trying to offer help, and of course Griffin is the smart-alec jokester. Drac's reaction to this is...well, what you'd expect. XD

Kinda fun to include Wayne in this considering he didn't really get a chance to react to Drac's crush on Ericka with the others (Aside from his comment in the Novelization which it's a shame it didn't happen in the film XD)

10. And the first drawing of the new year: Wanted to draw Dracula with his newborn twin babies. Ended up adding bonus post-labor Ericka. (Been whembling about if she actually does labor or a C-section.)

@gothicthundra @ebevkisk @neo-storm @that-obsessed-gay-girl @sine-qua-noon @chica-chuu @animatedpixie @erickadracula @ericka-van-helsing @erickaanddraculasblog @ericka4ever @elenadracula @drericka @drericka-prompts @drericka-is-lyfe-blog @drerickastan @thenerdynightprincess13 @thesecreatoroftrans @f-mhoteltransylvaniacomicseries @kittyball23 @lovelylivelyv

[stormxpadme]

Whumptober 2024 No. 22 - Reopening wounds

07/06/2018

The timing, for once, couldn’t be better.

Hank's worries kept revolving around that weird con that Mystique had pulled on him in the besieged city yesterday, the riddle of why the woman wanted to get in the X-Men's network so badly that she'd tried to Trojan a virus – fortunately quite a primitive one, compared to decades of highly developed Shi’ar tech in this house –, in Hank's hands, of all people, back to Westchester.

Whatever these files contained that the X-Men had acquired from their archenemies a while ago and still were at a loss about how to decipher them: It was very obviously crucial enough for their enemies to become increasingly restless about it, enough for the premature execution of ill-thought out plans. Which also meant, the next one they'd get up to would probably show up on the Mutant High doorstep a lot less subtle.

Therefore, Hank was relieved that this morning, he had to visit his currently only inpatient charge on the sick bay solely to finally release the girl. In case all these current dangerous conflicts might soon accumulate to yet another violent clash outside either their own gates or in New York – or even worse, around this whole poor planet –, the X-Men would need the young people shaping up to join them as their successors more by the day, to stand by their side.

Not to mention, their leader and headmaster would be back to a lot more focus and above all, show up at the breakfast table in a far better mood once his daughter would finally be sitting by his side again, to rate his ties on flop ten lists in the mutant social network and steal the last sip from his coffee. Especially in the light of the ongoing tragedy that was New York being in the enemy's hands and the question of why no one in Washington seemed to particularly care about that, it was about high time, some things at Mutant High finally went back to normal.

These embarrassingly pessimism haunting his mind before sunrise already – Christ –, Hank couldn’t help but smile when he entered said patient room, Saskia's file already opened on his datapad so he wouldn’t keep the girl waiting much longer, and spotted a certain young man with huge wings on his back already sitting by the bedside – again. It looked like he wasn’t the only one trying to at least start and fix things around here. "Hey, you two. Rise and shine."

Andréo slightly startled, apparently having dozed off for a moment. The last few nights had apparently taken their toll. He put a finger on his lips with a jerky headshake, indicating he'd not dared to wake his ex-girlfriend up for a little badly needed chatter.

Those just as noble as cowardly intentions came a little late though; Saskia's big round eyes were already fluttering open, a weak smile curling on her lips when the first thing they beheld was a certain strong built bare chest and unkempt, long brunet curls, dreamy dark eyes right next to her. "Hey … Did you get up even once since I passed out? You gave on sleeping or something?" The smile didn’t remain for long when Andréo's bashful little shrug brought a flush to far too pale cheeks and had Saskia lower her head inevitably … right toward where Hank had sneaked yet another needle into one of those thinned-out arms last night once the girl had fallen asleep. "Just couldn’t help yourself, Henry, could you?"

Hank silently smirked to himself about certain X-Men offspring copying a lot more of their parents' demeanor than naturally rebellious teenage spirits would ever want to admit, and pulled up a chair with one foot claw on the free bedside. He was nice enough to at least unhook the almost empty saline bag from Saskia's elbow so she could move more freely. "Just a little parting gift. You needed another dose of antibiotics after I found another small spot to correct between the fifth and sixth rib. Which is why I'm glad young Mister Worthington made time before training to check in on you again, as it gives me a chance to demonstrate to my future assistant how flawless post-surgery results can look when you bother to redo sloppy stitches."

Saskia didn't look awfully enthusiastic about Hank's efforts to have her leave this room with as few traces of her serious injury as possible. "You opened that damn thing again."

"Just half an inch of it. Last time, I promise. But you didn’t seriously think I'd let you walk out of here with the marks of the Brotherhood's incompetence all over your chest and back, did you? Andréo, that was not a polite request." Hank impatiently patted his side of the bed frame, motioning Saskia with his other hand to pull up her wide top with the Lord of the Rings map print for said detail check.

At least one of his stubborn two problem children this morning followed the request, albeit unnervingly slowly, with his eyes on the ground, unwilling to expose his former partner to having to get naked in front of him of all people.

Another time, with anyone else, Hank would maybe have taken such sensitivities into consideration. But not to mention he was getting increasingly tired of this childishness between two people who were all but suffocating his senses with the pheromones flying between them whenever they were in the same damn room, and who for his taste had learned far too much from their parents and teachers about how to silence problems into festering issues instead of solving them … This was a lesson that anyone wanting to work in the X-Men's medical facilities would have to internalize sooner or later. "Don't be infants, you two. This will not be the last time you have to take care of each other when one of you is compromised. If you are too unprofessional for that, being together on the same team will never work out for you."

"There's no need for shock treatment right now either though, Hank," Saskia nagged, a warning flash in her narrowing eyes as if she'd read his thoughts as easily as her best friend could. "I'm fine."

"Maybe, but this is not only about you but about the people who were worried sick about you when you ran into the next best sword available on your first big mission," Hank replied mercilessly, one paw coming to rest on Saskia's arm for a comforting squeeze when she shivered visibly, the faint fragrance of acid salt building on her fine neck for a second, at the memory of just how close to not making it out of Watergate alive she'd really been. "Which brings me to your question from earlier: Young Mister Worthington here hasn’t spent a single night in his own bed since they brought you home from New York."

"Really?" Saskia promptly blushed even deeper and shyly reached for Andréo's hand, following that unspoken yearning still smoldering between those two idiots for a moment … Then she apparently remembered why her no-longer boyfriend preferred to sit by her side in silence though and only when she wasn’t watching, instead of just lying down in that bed beside her to comfort her through the usual post near-death experience nightmares. Saskia's face tightened immediately. Pretending all the more now to not even care, clinging to that arduous sober relationship that those two clung to, ever since things had gone wrong between them, to not lose that spot on the X-Men successors' team respectively that they'd fought so hard for, she finally got her shirt out of the way and crossed her arms under her head.

When Andréo finally gathered enough courage to say as much as her name in a choked, helpless tone, she harshly shook her head. "Just do your job. Nothing to talk about, Worthington. Especially not when we got company."

"Hey, don't let me stop you. I'm not even listening," Hank claimed with a perfectly innocent smile, one hand on his chest to underline his utter and deep sincerity, before grabbing a Shi’ar scanner from his coat pocket to take a closer look at the freshly lasered wound in question.

"Right." Saskia rolled her eyes at him, her back tensing even more when Hank impatiently pulled Andréo closer by one of his elbow feathers to inspect the almost invisibly mended wound margins right below the underside of her breast. "Can you just get a move on it? Gym's waiting. We're a little too old to still fall for the Predatory Department sketch, McCoy, you know."

"That one only works when I got my workmate from counseling in here anyway," Henry replied with a sad smile, recalling the last time Katja and he had pulled off their little act of secretly applied mental therapy in these very premises, back then to ease a scratching, biting young man named Bastian Murray into his re-appearance in this house.

A boy who had happened to make sure at Watergate just a few weeks later, this very young woman lying before Hank here right now wouldn’t succumb to her horrible injuries before Hank had even gotten a chance to do anything about them. In a way, Bastian's arrival had ushered in this new period of ongoing lethal danger and drama in this house, after so many years of only the occasional mission and a cautiously growing hope for peace …

And yet it was these teenagers who should one day become valuable members of the X-Men's team, without whom there would be even less hope for this planet to not go up in the flames of war right now. Including Scott's and Katja's daughter who so shortly after almost having her heart cut out of her chest already couldn’t think of anything but getting back to training.

In this case, fortunately, Hank had the better arguments to keep his ambitious young patient from asking too much of herself, as her mother was so prone to as well. "The Counselor in question is still quite shaken from almost having to watch her daughter die by the way, so she's off duty for the moment." He nodded in satisfaction when Saskia promptly blushed once more and sank back down on the mattress with an unhappy sigh, the need to get out of this room and away from the prying eyes of someone who'd examined her without clothes for whole different reasons not too long ago, suppressed for the moment. "Better. Almost done, Sassy. Let me get that vital sign readings statistic in your file and write up the meds you're gonna need for a few more days, then you're free to go. How about you two make good use of that time before you go back to needlessly being a pain in each other's behind in training? You know, the good thing about feral senses? Selective perception. You two wrap things up between you guys, and I'll do the same in here." With that, Hank demonstratively turned to his datapad, albeit without much hope that his not-so-gentle nudge would achieve anything more this time than the last few attempts at helping in this complicated matter. Fixing emotions was sadly so much more complicated than knitting up tissue and straightening bones.

"Nothing left to wrap up left," Saskia promptly growled, back to stubbornly avoiding a certain sight by soulful eyes resting on her face, pleading for a kind of absolution that would never come, not as long as there were so many unspoken words between those two.

"Sassy, maybe he's ri…" Those hesitating, hopeless words, too, mumbled almost too quietly to hear anyway, died down immediately again when the next warning snarl from Saskia's lips, a noise that almost made Hank's own feral articulation proud, went his way.

A conversation reminding Hank far too much of the last personal talk these two lovebirds had had on that one bad night a few months back, one that fortunately only feral senses could have picked up on from one story above as most of the pupils had already been asleep at that hour.

Okay, so should we do this the classic way? Like, with you telling me, it's not what it looks like, me yelling at you for a while before I slap you and her across the face …

Hey, Hurricane, can you take it down a notch? We …

You want to know what it's like to freeze to death? Then keep on talking.

Sassy ...

Or you can put some damn clothes on right now and let me pack up my things alone. And never touch me again.

I'm sorry, Sassy.

Yeah, I don't give a fuck about that in either scenario.

"I'm sorry," Andréo murmured, undoubtedly replaying that same depressing scene in his mind while almost as stubbornly ignoring Hank's inviting glance from the side as Saskia had earlier. "I never meant to hurt you." That was undoubtedly true, but it what was really still in the air about this ugly drama back then that was standing between these two people, because Andréo just didn’t have the guts to come clean about the truth.

Saskia pulled down her shirt again with a harsh movement when Hank gestured her to, visibly relieved to finally be allowed to get up from her bed and hurry over to the patient cabinet to gather her belongings. "I believe that, Worthington, but it doesn’t make it better if you keep reopening that wound either. I just can’t forget."

"I wish that was true." It came before Andréo could really stop himself, and Hank could hear the boy gasp and curse himself silently immediately, see him bite his lower lip in regret when Saskia turned around to him in confusion.

"What was that?"

Sensing there was no way back now, Andréo gave himself a push at last and forced himself to seek that confused gaze again, wringing his hands in growing nervousness. "There’s something you don’t know about this whole thing between us, Sassy. Your mind … It refuses to remember for some reason. And I … I can’t tell you." His increasingly uncomfortable gaze found Hank's again, immediately turning away again when Hank cleared his throat, reminding the boy what Hank had told him about this whole tricky situation more than once. "You need to remember yourself. Or you’d never believe me."

Visibly only even more puzzled, Saskia looked back and forth between Andréo and Hank several times, frowning deeply, shaking herself a few times as she tried to retrieve that one certain tidbit from inside her head that would have changed everything in an instant but just couldn’t manage to, still, until her shoulders dropped in old and new disappointment and she continued dressing all the more quickly. "You never fought for me. That’s what I know. You just left that night."

"Because you told me to," Andréo reminded her quietly. "I respect you too much not to act against your wishes."

"Yeah … you always did." The unbelievably sad smile on Saskia's lips made it clear how much she, too, indeed still cared about this young man who'd been her first love. Which was why it hurt all the more how that whole thing had ended. Both times. "Until you fucked someone else behind my back. I wish it could be like it was."

"Maybe one day it will." Andréo took a small, depressed breath and got up, heavily as so often with probably not only the weight of his wings pulling him down, and trotted towards the door.

"You … uh … you could walk me to my apartment if you want," Saskia unexpectedly murmured before the door could open. She rolled her eyes a little when Andréo stopped in surprise, cocking his head at her, and motioned down on her still bandaged chest and back and then at Hank. "What can I say? Maybe if I agree on a babysitter to watch out for me for a day or two, King Kong will let me return to exercise faster."

"Wow, reason just walked into the room," Hank commented, smiling broadly to himself for more than one reason.

"I thought you weren’t listening," Saskia commented dryly.

"Almost 17 years, you still fall for that, Ice Princess." Hank ducked his head with a chuckle when Saskia made a move to throw her bag at him and then waved the two people away so that they could continue to make up a little on their way back through the at this time still-so-quiet halls of their home. Little glimpses of hope in the frightening dreariness of newly threatening war indeed.

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