#its specter haunted me fr

[acciotaitlynn]

Xavier following you around begging for forgiveness, interfering with your dates, etc after you break up with him because he chose mc to save instead of you but he regrets it now plzzzzzz? 🥺

Hiii! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ I hope it's okay that this is spicy! Xavikitty's got me really worked up 😩💦 This healed something in me fr. Thank you for requesting!

→ xavier༝you ꒰sylus is your bestie꒱

→ 18+, unprotected sex, vsex, marking/claiming, fingering, masturbation, oral;꒰fem!receiving꒱ angst, overstim, angel/baby/good girl used, ⋆˙⟡ reader is not mc from lads

→ wc: 9k

It plays on an endless loop in Xavier’s head—he remembers pushing you into harm's way to protect her. He shuts his eyes, steeling himself as the memory flares up like a haunting specter, nausea twisting at its force.

How can he possibly make you understand? After countless lifetimes dedicated to protecting Mai, it’s become instinctual, as natural as breathing. He’s devoted himself to placing her life above all else, including his own, to the point where it requires no conscious thought. His body moves according to her needs, like weary clay molded to her unyielding will.

Typically, keeping her safe fills him with immense pride and joy. She’s the center of his existence—the one thing he’s never once regretted dedicating himself to.

He’s unsure when that began to change. Perhaps it was the first moment he laid eyes on you. He remembers it vividly… 

You stood beside Mai, the woman he’s always considered the most beautiful soul in the world, yet all he could see was you. A soft, surprised inhale escaped him as he caught your radiant gaze. Then his eyes wandered over your form, drawn to the uniform that hugged your curves in all the right places—curves that stirred a long-buried ache in him, a longing he’d almost forgotten existed.

Captain Jenna assigned you to the Unicorns team, instructing them to show you the ropes during your first few months. Much to Mai's dismay, Xavier took a shine to you. You both hit it off instantly, diving into animated discussions about books, video games, and anime that last for hours. 

Xavier changes around you. It's a stark contrast from his usual aloof demeanor; he becomes like an overeager puppy, radiating a cheerful, youthful energy that draws you in. You make him feel alive, his soul buzzing with excitement whenever you're around.

Then there's Mai. The lingering touches and flirtations between her and Xavier are familiar yet futile. He feels something for her—his body still heats up when she’s near, and the butterflies flutter in his stomach whenever she hugs him. But you? You make his heart race to the point where he can't think straight. You ignite a spark in him that he’s hesitant to acknowledge, filling him with light and hope. 

With Mai, it’s different. While she makes him happy, the constant chase for something unachievable cloaks their moments in a bittersweet melancholy, even during the brightest times. A nagging question lingers in his mind—is he starting to care for you so deeply that it’s overshadowing his feelings for her? Is that even possible?

Mai has consumed his thoughts and desires for as long as he can remember. He struggles to disentangle himself from her, even against his will. But ever since that first mission together, you’ve carved a place in his psyche that’s too significant to ignore. 

Unbeknownst to him, his changes around you are glaringly obvious. And you can't help but smirk at how annoyed it makes Mai. She does her best to keep you away from him, often splitting up during missions to maintain her hold. She sits closer to Xavier, throwing you daggers with her glares, her flirtations with him seemingly growing bolder by the day. 

Currently, her arm is draped over his shoulders as she whispers into his ear. As your eyes meet Xavier’s, warmth blooms in his gaze, only to falter when you quickly look away.

It’s only been three days since he pushed you in front of that wanderer without a second thought, pulling Mai away as though her safety was paramount. Mai executed her plan with precision, positioning herself between you and the threat when Xavier was distracted to force a choice upon him. It was meant to convey that he ultimately belongs to her.

You've asked him to avoid speaking to you unless it’s work-related, and even then, you prefer silence. His gentle voice feels like a sharp knife cutting deep into your resolve. Just one more month, and you can escape this toxic duo for good.

Watching Mai cling to him is torture—some sort of cruel cosmic punishment for an unknown transgression. Every place her hands linger is a spot you crave for yourself. Your desire for Xavier has burned since the moment you laid eyes on him. It’s evident he shares that longing, how his gaze roams over you when he thinks you’re not looking, and how he blushes fiercely at the simplest of touches.

You just don’t understand it. You know their heartbreaking history; Sylus filled you in. Giving up on something you've worked so hard for is a monumental challenge. Still, they don’t joke and laugh like you do. His eyes don’t light up for her the way they do for you; that deep cerulean gaze doesn’t trace her form with the same heat anymore. He no longer seeks her out or reciprocates her touches. In fact, he’d likely forget her entirely if she weren’t always throwing herself at him. 

So, why doesn’t he draw a line? Why won’t he create the boundary he so obviously needs? It’s maddening. 

You wish for the patrol minutes to fly by so you can escape, grab a few drinks, and retreat to the safety of binge-watching anime, where you can finally process your feelings. 

Your friend’s ringtone cuts through your frustration as Mai nuzzles into Xavier, earning a grimace from him as he pulls back slightly. The deep voice on the other end of your phone call soothes your irritation like crisp, smoky whiskey. 

“Sylus,” you breathe, relief washing over you at the welcome distraction. You hadn’t realized how much you needed it until now.

“You sound upset, sweetie. Is a certain naughty kitten causing you some frustration again?” he teases, referring to the skank currently toeing Xavier’s thigh. You glance around, taking in the scene around you, and it only intensifies your disgust. It's a crowded street, and she just pops her boot off and goes for it.

“It would be great if you could come take her away. for like, ever,” you mumble grumpily.

"But then you might miss me," he drawls, a hint of mischief in his voice.

"That's why video chat exists," you reply, rolling your eyes.

Mai knows exactly who’s on the other end of that line, but her confidence in your friendship with Sylus keeps her at ease. She knows you don’t stand in the way of her claim on him. Instead, she leans closer to Xavier, her fingers tracing lazy shapes along his arm, a suggestive grin plastered on her face. 

Yet it’s a futile effort. Xavier is hanging on your every word, his focus unwavering. His remains unreadable as you assure Sylus you'll arrive soon.

Finally, the clock strikes midnight. Unfortunately, you’ve ridden here with Mai, as your car is in the shop. You contemplate how to ask for a lift, but before you can gather the courage, Xavier swiftly breaks free from Mai’s grasp and gently guides you toward his car.

Your brow furrows in confusion. “Xavier!” Mai's voice drips with irritation as she tries to pull him back.

He dodges her intervention, a determined look in his eyes. “Don’t you need a ride?” he asks, keeping his gaze steady on you.

Mai’s stunned expression is almost comical, but Xavier doesn’t give her the satisfaction of a response. He’s not about to subject you to another awkward ride with her, especially when he can’t shake the unsettled feeling that gnaws at him at the thought of you having dinner with Sylus. How easily you seemed to relax upon receiving his call is driving Xavier mad. 

As Mai seethes next to her bike, Xavier’s focus remains ahead, his expression calm, but his grip on the steering wheel is white-knuckled. You angle toward the window, crossing your arms and letting the scenery blur past. Irritation bubbles just beneath the surface, and you can’t help but murmur, “Escaping your master’s leash. Impressive.” 

He glances at you, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but then he turns his gaze back to the road, leaving the tension hanging in the air between you.

Sylus is waiting when you pull up, propped casually against the bar’s porch, with a cigarette in hand and a knowing glint in his eyes as he watches you arrive. Xavier seems poised to say something, but you hop out of the car before he can get the words out, striding straight past Sylus and tossing a casual “What’s up?” over your shoulder.

You miss the way Sylus shoots a glance at Xavier—a look that says, “You better behave.” He has no grudge against the hunter; Mai chose Sylus, so what was there for him to resent? That was until Xavier started hurting you.

“I seriously don’t understand what you see in her,” you mutter as Sylus takes a seat, prompting a chuckle from him and a playful ruffle of your hair.

“I find it all part of her charm,” he shoots back with a grin.

With an exasperated sigh, you focus on getting drunk enough to forget Xavier. That task feels daunting until Sylus volunteers for karaoke, his performance drowning out your worries. When he flops back down at the table, he wears a broad grin, eyes sparkling.

“Good, right?” he asks, confidence overflowing, and it takes all your restraint not to tease him.

He’s sensitive about his singing. So, you lean in with your best serious face. “So good, Sy. You’ve gotten even better!”

His ego balloons as he settles back into the booth, nodding appreciatively as he says, “Truly.”

Carmine eyes brightened by the drinks, his flushed face scans the room, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance at how effortlessly beautiful he looks when he lets loose. Just once, you wish he’d look bad, allowing you to be the cute one in the friendship.

Noticing your irritated appraisal, Sylus chuckles, his arm draping over the booth. He shoots you a mock, severe look. “Better not let your hunter catch you looking at me like that, sweetie. Or Mai, for that matter.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Your head is getting bigger. Seriously, it might be wider than your shoulders by now.”

But his smile vanishes, replaced by concern as he studies you. “How are you holding up?”

Your gentle smile reflects your appreciation for his genuine concern. Sylus can be a pain, but he also knows how to be a great friend. “I’m okay, I guess. If your girl gets any more hands-on, though…” You narrow your eyes at him like it’s his fault. “Doesn’t it bother you that she’s all over him lately?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, tossing back a shot. “Sweetie, look at me, then at him—what’s there to worry about?”

Your scoff drips with sarcasm, enough to irk him. He raises an eyebrow and playfully kicks your ankle, smirking as you wince and curse loudly enough to catch others' attention. But soon, his worry returns, his voice softening as he tries to comfort you. “You know their history, dove. Surely, you can see that letting her go will be nearly impossible for him. I warned you about this.”

He did warn you, and you didn’t listen. Now you wish you had. You gave him a tender smile and a reassuring pat on his hand, murmuring, “I know. I just need time to accept it.”

Mission accomplished—both you and Sylus are sufficiently drunk as you head out, making plans for him to drop you off at your place. You’re busy teasing Mephisto, who’s perched on Sylus’s shoulder. His irritated nip catches your attention, and you notice Xavier’s car is still parked outside. 

Xavier knows you can see him, but you turn away, hopping on Sylus’s bike as he takes off. Guilt and irritation bubble within him as he hits the dashboard, cursing softly while watching you disappear into the distance.

When did he start hating Sylus for being near you rather than for being near Mai? As he contemplates, he realizes their relationship hasn’t bothered him lately. He’s certain he heard them banging last night from his apartment, and he couldn’t have cared less. All that consumed his mind was how to show you how sorry he is. 

After a while, his imagination ran wild, turning Mai’s cries of pleasure into thoughts of you, your sweet voice calling out in ecstasy.  His desire grew painfully as he imagined you beneath him, gripping himself tightly as he came hard enough to see stars, all while dealing with the guilt of betraying your trust.

Earlier, words had failed him, bound tight by guilt and nerves. He doesn’t know how to make you understand, but he has to try; the thought of seeing you in pain any longer is unbearable. The need to wrap you in his arms and kiss away that adorable frown grows stronger daily.

The hope of taking you home and getting a chance to try again disappears with your retreating silhouette. He groans in frustration, his head hitting the steering wheel as exhaustion trickles over him.

He’s an absolute mess. He can’t eat or sleep—two of his favorite things. Even meat doesn’t hold appeal right now. He’s miserable. 

Helplessly, he follows you and Sylus, watching your figures from his car as you sit in front of the TV.  Eventually, though, he leaves, knowing knocking on your door in the middle of the night to fall on his knees and apologize isn’t a realistic option unless he wants you to see just how much he’s falling apart over this.

At some point, you fall asleep, and Sylus covers you up before heading out. Both you and Xavier hope for relief in your dreams, but instead, your dreams are haunted by each other’s presence.

Mai has taken the day off to accompany Sylus on a business deal, and as much as you hate to admit it, you miss her. It would have been nice if Sylus had taken you along instead, leaving her here to make Xavier as miserable as you are.

Once upon a time, the thought of being alone with him on a mission filled you with excitement, practically keeping you awake the night before from sheer nerves. Now, you do your best to ignore him, walking just out of reach.

He kicks a rock, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. “We should head back soon; it’s getting late. We can look for the protocore again tomorrow.”

Guilt bubbles up in you at the melancholy lacing his voice. You nod and gesture toward a nearby Wanderer, saying, “Let’s take that one down and head out.”

The two of you fight seamlessly, your movements flowing together in a rhythm more exquisite than what he shares with Mai—something that seems to stun him every time. Without realizing it, he’s started gravitating toward you during battles, often having to forcibly pull himself back to her side.

A fresh pang of guilt gnaws at him, a feeling of drifting further away from what he’s always believed to be his purpose in life. He feels so lost, and there’s only one direction he longs to run in.

When did you become his guiding star?

The trip home is the most awkward car ride you’ve ever endured, the air thick with unease. You let out a long sigh, adjusting your seat as you turn up the volume on Mozart's Symphony No. 41, the "Jupiter" movement, hoping the music can cut through the oppressive silence. The soothing notes help ease Xavier's anxiety a bit, which in turn allows you to relax as the tension around you fades—if only slightly.

But as he parks in front of your place and kills the engine, the uncomfortable atmosphere returns with full force. Every part of you longs to bolt inside, terrified of the conversation that looms ahead. You know what’s coming. He’ll look at you with those beautiful, earnest eyes and say he’s sorry, genuinely believing it, but that apology will only sharpen the pain. If he genuinely cared, he wouldn’t have put you in harm’s way. If you mattered to him, he would have shown it when it counted.

You look away, remaining still in a silent invitation for him to speak.

His soft voice slices through the tension, murmuring, “I’m so sorry.”

Another wave of silence washes over you, anger surging beneath the surface—a force that takes all your strength to suppress. You shake your head in disbelief, your nails digging into your palms as you seek relief from the emotional turmoil. Pain to drown out the pain.

He notices, gently taking your hand, unfurling your fingers, and placing them back in your lap. Your body responds to his touch, a raw ache begging for more, while a part of you screams in frustration. Shooting him a glare, you cross your arms tightly, fighting against the tears welling up.

“Don’t touch me, Xavier.” Your voice is low and firm—an order that conflicts with the desperate plea of your heart, urging you to draw him closer.

His face falls, shoulders slumping as his hand drops to his lap. “Okay,” he whispers, the hurt in his voice cracking your heart a little more. You reach for him, then quickly pull back.

Searching your face, he pleads, “May I have a moment to explain? I know it won’t help, but—”

You grab your bag, cutting him off. “No need; Sylus took care of it. You chase her across the cosmos, hopelessly in love with someone who doesn’t deserve you. I'm caught up. Thank you for the apology, though. Really,” you say softly, closing the door behind you. As you walk away, you can almost feel the weight of his regret lingering in the air.

A date at Meow’s Cafe, surrounded by adorable miniature cats, should be a delightful experience. Yet today, it feels heavy with the weight of Xavier’s absence. It’s your first time here without him, and everything is off; the playful mews of the kitties have lost their charm, grating on your nerves instead, while the usually vibrant atmosphere feels dull and lifeless.

The man sitting across from you is undeniably attractive, with dark, wavy hair, a chiseled jawline, and a smile that promises excitement and chaos. You can’t help but appreciate the way his fingers linger a moment too long on your skin or the longing glint in his eyes. Yet, the ache of Xavier’s absence lingers, casting a shadow over your attempts to enjoy the moment.

Excusing yourself to the restroom, you scrub your hands, your thoughts lingering on thoughts of him. Just as you’re about to shake the memories away, his soft voice—almost a whisper—brushes against your ear. “Does he play as well as me?”

You can almost feel the tension radiating from him, the palpable mix of frustration and jealousy. Xavier’s emotions swirl around him, creating a glow that’s impossible to ignore. Watching you with someone else, someone who seems to draw you in far too easily, has shattered something within him. 

As you turn, you’re startled to find him standing there, his presence commanding and intense. His cheeks are flushed, his breaths quickening, and his hooded blue eyes betray a storm of feelings: anger, grief, desire, and a potent possessiveness that sends a thrilling shiver down your spine.

You fight to maintain your composure, voice steady as you ask, “What are you doing here?” Tara set this date up for you just yesterday, assuring you that it would help you forget about Xavier. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

He closes the distance between you in a heartbeat, his lips grazing your cheek as he pushes you gently against the wall. For a moment, his tender touch makes you forget all about the boundaries you've set.

“What are you—”

He cups your cheek, kissing you so softly it nearly steals your breath away. “There aren’t words to express how sorry I am,” he murmurs, his forehead resting against yours, thumb brushing away your unshed tears as you stand frozen, torn between pushing him away and kissing him again.

You allow his lips to skim your neck, cursing your body’s betrayal when you feel an intense warmth spread through you at just the brush of his breath on your skin. 

“If I could do it over, I wouldn’t make the same choice,” he confesses, his eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. The truth in his words shakes him to his core—given another chance, he would choose you without hesitation.

Reality crashes over you, jarring you from his spell. You pull away, a sad, pitying look crossing your face. “Yes, you really would,” you reply quietly, determination solidifying your resolve as you stride out of the cafe with your date in tow.

Your date's name is Ash, but it feels irrelevant; he’s merely a means to an end, a warm body to help work out your frustrations. A pretty placeholder whose touch you imagine belongs to Xavier—a delicious fantasy until you accidentally murmur Xavier’s name, and the atmosphere grows awkward. 

Left alone, forced to find release on your own. Visions of Xavier’s cock filling you up while his beautiful gaze locks with yours consume your mind. You’re a mess of whimpers, chanting his name in a prayer that fills the stillness of your room as you ride an orgasm so powerful it borders on pain. Despite its overwhelming intensity, it does nothing to ease the ache that demands you give in to him, insisting on your claim in every way possible.

It disgusts you how you can still want someone who causes you so much pain, someone who can never care for you like you care for him. 

Your phone pings, lighting up with a message—from Xavier. He hasn’t texted you since that fateful mission, and you kick yourself at the happiness the sudden communication brings you.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Next, a video comes through, sending your phone flying across the carpet as a shriek leaves you. Your hand claps over your mouth in shock, and you immediately rush to retrieve it, relentless desire flooding you at the image on the screen.

Xavier reclines on a sofa with his legs spread wide, his black button-up open to show off his lean, sculpted form. He frees his cock—so hard it looks painful. He must be super sensitive because the moment his hand wraps around himself, he lets out a needy little whimper that curls your toes.

You wish more than anything to take him in your mouth, to taste the pretty beads of precum that make his movements slick and sloppy.

Your stunned murmur of, “W-what is happening…” sounds so horrified and horny that it's comical.

Your fingers move almost of their own accord, slipping deep inside you to match his rhythm. You prop your phone up so your free hand can trail over your body, pinching and rolling your nipples as your breath quickens alongside his. You hate yourself for every touch, but you can’t stop. Your attention latches onto him and nothing else, unable to look away, even if what’s about to happen ends up ruining you. 

His grip firms instantly as if aware of your reaction, and he strokes himself faster. His head kicks back, his eyes slam shut, and a low groan escapes him. “I’m picturing myself inside you,” he admits, “Imagining laying claim to every inch of your body and soul.”

His gaze pierces through the camera, earnest and pleading, his blue eyes shining with unfathomable need.

“You think I wouldn’t make a different choice if given the chance, but you’re wrong. Besides fucking you, regret is a constant on my mind, relentlessly replaying as I watch myself make the stupidest choice of my life.” He lays his head back again, keeping his eyes on the camera as he languidly strokes himself, continuing, “Centuries of longing for and chasing after Mai, of dedicating my very existence to her, and then you come along and turn my entire world upside down with just a smile. You make me want to give up everything I believe in to be with you.”

His words trail off as his movements become frantic. With an incoherent mumble, he says, “I bet you’re so tight… so warm. Are you wet for me, angel? I hope so… W-will you cum with me?” The plea in his voice is unmistakable.

You whimper, nodding frantically, your pussy squeezing your fingers as his filthy words spur you on.

Your gaze flits over his body, unable to settle as your pleasure builds. He’s so pretty—his face flushed, sweat beading on his skin, his cerulean eyes burning bright. A whiny, needy repetition of your name leaves his lips as cum covers his hand and stomach, sending you hurtling into your own release.

Shame fills you when the pleasure subsides. His face moves closer to the camera, and he softly murmurs, “I really miss you,” effectively ripping your heart out and stomping on it before the video cuts off, an unsettling silence filling the air. You want to scream and cry, and most frustratingly, you want a second round with the most significant thing ever filmed.

A sudden realization hits you, and you groan, stuffing your face into a pillow with a muted scream. Work tomorrow is going to be so awkward.

Thank the gods your car is finally back from the shop. An immense sense of relief washes over you, knowing you won’t have to endure another ride with Xavier after what happened last night—or, possibly even worse, with Mai.

However, that relief quickly evaporates as you arrive at work and see Xavier striding toward you. He boldly brushes your hair back and leans in close, whispering, “Did you enjoy yourself last night? I know I did,” his smile warm and inviting.

He takes your chin and tilts your face, his voice soft as he confesses, “I’ve never felt so good. Not even at the thought of Mai.” You squeak in surprise, instinctively pulling away.

Xavier has decided he’s done fighting his feelings for you. The hesitation about the changes this could bring to his life—and the guilt that comes with it—is gone. He wants you more than anything, and now he’s determined to show you just how much.

As you walk side by side on patrol, his soft voice fills the air with light-hearted musings and playful teasing, yet you constantly remind yourself why you must keep your distance.

Meanwhile, Mai glares daggers from behind, trying desperately to distract Xavier at every opportunity. She attempts to hold his hand at one point, batting her lashes with a cute little pout. But he quickly pulls away, brushes your arm tenderly, and continues walking by your side. 

A warmth spreads in your heart, and you can’t help but worry about how easily he’s breaking down the walls you’ve built around yourself.

Mai’s cheerful voice grates on Xavier’s nerves as he struggles to finish his paperwork for the day. The office is empty now, and he’s itching to leave, his mind consumed with thoughts of seeing you.

Mai pulls up a chair, pretending to help him, but her true intentions are clear when she rests her hand on his thigh, continuing to write as if it’s the most natural thing. Her fingers begin their creeping ascent, and Xavier’s heart races. His body locks up, and anxiety rises as the ability to breathe leaves him. 

Mai has always been flirty, something he used to find endearing, even if it was just a ruse to keep him coming back for more. But this was more than suggestive flirtation. When she presses her lips to his for the first time, she sighs as if kissing him brings her true joy.

How many times has he longed for this? Centuries of wishing for this moment—and he feels nothing at all. 

Xavier pulls back with a pained expression, searching her beautiful eyes. He makes no move to stop her, testing how he truly feels. After so much effort and heartbreak over wanting, no, needing this and Mai, he has to be sure before giving it all up.

Her fingers trail delicately over his abs and chest. He lets her kiss him again; this time, Xavier kisses back, trying to coax out some emotion other than this empty void. Kisses trail his skin as she frees his cock, only to pull back in disbelief when she feels his lack of arousal.

He watches her with detachment as she strokes him, pouting when he remains limp in her hand. Gently stopping her as she moves to take him into her mouth, he says, “I can’t do this anymore,” his voice soft but resolute, as a weight lifts from his shoulders.

Mai narrows her eyes, her mask slipping momentarily as she murmurs, “Xavier, you don’t truly want her. You’re just so pent up after all these years that anyone will do,” her veil of teasing returns as she leans closer, urging, “Let me help. This is what you’ve always wanted, right?” 

She frees her breasts from her tank top, squeezing and tugging enticingly. This isn’t the girl he fell in love with—the gentle, kind soul that captured his heart so long ago. Over her lifetimes, she’s become cold and cruel, the alluring brightness in her eyes dimming with time. Xavier realizes he’s been chasing someone who no longer exists, a profound grief washing over him.

Taking out his phone, he finds a picture of you and shows it to Mai as she scowls. Pushing her hand away, he murmurs, “You have no idea what I want. Watch.”

Gazing at your smiling face on the screen, he begins stroking his cock, becoming painfully hard within moments, lust shadowing his features. Mai’s eyes burn with genuine desire and jealousy, but he feels nothing for her.

Tucking himself back into his boxers and fixing his pants, he asks, “Did you throw yourself in front of that Wanderer to lure me into saving you?” This question has nagged him whenever the scene replays in his mind. 

He’s almost certain Mai wasn’t near you when he began the battle, only to find her next to you when the Wanderer attacked. The chaos made it difficult for him to be sure.

The answer becomes clear when Mai clears her throat, quickly glancing away. Nervousness plays on her features as Xavier takes on a chilling demeanor, standing and collecting his paperwork with meticulous movements. Any remaining connection to her ignites and burns away as he regards her coldly, fighting hard to maintain his composure. 

“I’ll be requesting a transfer for both her and myself. In the meantime, don’t even look in her direction,” Xavier says, his calm tone carrying an underlying warning: there will be consequences if she crosses the boundary he’s setting. Adjusting her top, shame, and embarrassment on her features, Mai watches as Xavier turns and walks away. 

Your phone pings as you slip into an oversized T-shirt, and the screen lights up with a message from Sylus: “Looks like you won the game, dove. My money was on you all along,” complete with a celebratory champagne bottle emoji.

What the heck is that supposed to mean? 

You’re about to hit the call button to get an explanation when a knock at the door reveals a rain-soaked Xavier. His eyes light with relief upon seeing you. You let him in, grabbing a towel and doing your best to help him dry off, earning a gentle smile as you fluff his hair. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, pulling away and searching his face.

His fingers brush your cheek tenderly as he nods and says, “If I were to ask you to leave Linkon with me, what would you say?”

Your eyes widen as you sputter, “Um, I—like for the day?” 

He gives you a rare, genuine smile, then chuckles as he replies, “No. Like forever. Together.” He kisses you tenderly and nuzzles your nose. “We can start over somewhere new,” he whispers earnestly.

You want to believe such a thing is possible, but doubt lingers, pulling you away from his embrace. “Xavier… you don’t mean that. Mai—” 

“Is no longer part of my life,” he finishes. Gripping you by the waist and drawing you closer, he tilts your head to meet his gaze.“I don’t care how long it takes to prove it to you. I’m a very patient man,” he murmurs.

“How exactly do you plan to prove it to me?” you ask, your voice low and sensual, surprising even yourself.

You adore the way Xavier’s eyes heat up when he hears it. He hums softly, his lips brushing your ear while one arm holds you close, his fingers tracing down your arm to entwine with yours. When he kisses you this time, your body aches to melt against his, but you stand your ground, determined to make him fight for it. His tongue gently explores your mouth, groaning as he tastes you fully, cupping your cheek and deepening the kiss.

He pulls back and studies you, his thumb grazing your lips, admiring how they glisten as he spreads the moisture around. “So pretty…” he murmurs, his mouth skimming the soft skin under your ear, teeth grazing lightly, sending shivers through your body.

His brows scrunch in a pout as he reaches for your hands that hang limply at your sides, “Why won’t you touch me?” he asks, hurt evident in his tone.

“I’m not sure you deserve it yet,” you mumble, crossing your arms and turning away.

“I see,” he says with a hint of amusement.

Slowly, his touch travels under your shirt, teasing your nipple with light sweeps of his thumb. His mouth and hands explore every inch of your skin he can reach, worshiping you so delicately it takes your breath away. 

“Xavier?”

“Hmm?”

“I want to see you,” you admit, nervousness spilling into your voice.

Xavier’s throat bobs as he nods, his eyes never leaving yours as he sheds his clothing. At first, he’s hesitant, afraid you may not like what you see.

It’s a silly fear since he’s the most perfect thing you’ve ever seen. Lean and slender, his body is honed by centuries of combat, the faint scars on his pale skin testifying to trials overcome. Your hungry eyes catch on his cock, so long and pretty that you moan quietly, just thinking about how good it would feel to take it.

The look of pure longing on your face instantly eases Xavier’s insecurities. His thumb sweeps over his cock, gathering beads of precum before he holds it to your mouth, a plea evident in his eyes. You want to remain strong, but the desire to taste him overpowers you. You suck it clean, your eyes fluttering shut with a sigh. His cock twitches eagerly as a strangled “fuckk, angel” escapes him, his thumb pumping deeply into your mouth as he bites his puffy lip. 

“May I see you too?” he asks quietly, fingers tracing the hem of your shirt. You nod and let him pull it off, fighting the urge to cover yourself as your nipples perk in the chilly air. The way his gaze travels your body is so sensual and awe-filled that it’s almost devastating.

His hands tangle in your hair as he tilts your head, his kiss far more profound than any before. He presses you against the wall, trailing kisses down your stomach and along your inner thighs before pulling your shorts down. A groan escapes him when he sees your bare pussy. 

Instantly, he thumbs open your folds, dragging long, languid fingers through your heat before holding his hand up for you to see. “So wet,” he murmurs, rubbing it around and watching it stick to his fingers. “Is this all for me? he asks, wonder filling his voice. 

You nod, whimpering pitifully as he licks them clean, his eyes shutting in ecstasy at your taste. A desperate curse leaves him as he commands,  “Spread your legs then; I can’t let any go to waste.” You do as he says, whimpering again as his fingers trace delicate circles over your clit. “You’ve done so well for me, angel… practically dripping. You’ll feel amazing like this.” Then his tongue is deep in your cunt, eagerly lapping up your arousal with a deep groan against your skin that shocks your entire system. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair without hesitation, holding his face firmly in place as you grind against it. His straight nose brushes your clit with every turn of your hips, sending waves of pleasure through you. He kneels before you, and his gaze is unwavering as he slips a finger inside you, his lips and teeth teasing your slick, warm skin. Xavier loves how puffy your clit gets under his mouth and how sensitive you are to even the slightest of his touches.

He yearns to be closer to you, to be enveloped in your warmth and your scent as you cum in his mouth. Guiding you to the couch, he lies down and motions for you to come closer. “Use my face,” he commands softly, his voice laden with desire as he finishes. “I want to enjoy my meal.”

He eases you over him, his mouth inhaling you eagerly. Growing frustrated that you won’t put all your weight on him, he pushes you down so your pussy lands flush on his face. “Good girl,” he mumbles against you, urging your hips along. At first, you’re concerned about his ability to breathe, but the worry quickly vanishes as he teases your nipples and plays with your ass.

He whimpers as your fingers finally begin to trace his skin, his hips making needy pumps into the air, desperately seeking friction. Your touches are so tender, your gaze full of adoration, and a giddy smile spreads across your face at the sight of his slick-covered features.

You run your hands lovingly through his hair, the look on your face causing him to fall apart. He lets out a strangled cry that vibrates through your pussy as his cum covers his stomach. He sucks your clit harder, fingers pumping into you rapidly as you ride his face.

“Yes, yes, yess!” you shout, hand gripping his hair tightly while the other reaches around to play in his essence, coating his sensitive, twitching cock as he whimpers quietly. You can’t find it in yourself to feel ashamed as you turn into an absolute slut above him. It’s just so deliciously indecent. 

He’s so sticky from his release, shimmering with sweat and the faint glow of his evol. His face and ears are flushed, your essence covering his mouth and chin. He gazes up at you with so much desire as you bring your soaked fingers to your mouth, tasting them slowly.

The moment he feels your tight walls flutter around his fingers at his taste, he replaces them with his tongue, devouring every bit of your cunt. Even after he cleans all your cum, he refuses to stop. He pulls you tighter against him, forcing your hips to move until you whine and tremble uncontrollably above him.

“T-too much, Xavier, pleasee,” you mumble desperately, tugging at his hair. He chuckles softly and sits up, letting you rest. You settle on his lap as he leans back against the sofa, giving you a gentle smile, his lips still wet and shiny. Your touch is uninhibited now, free from hesitation as your fingers map his skin. 

He’s so responsive. Just the gentlest of touches elicit the most adorable, most sensual sounds. Your fingers ghost over a perked nipple, earning a strangled groan in return. His head kicks, and his hands form tight fists as he tries to show restraint.

You meet his eyes, your voice soft as you ask, ‘Xavier… have you ever felt truly cared for and cherished before?” 

You want to cry and rage when he blushes and turns away, whispering “no” as pain briefly crosses his features. 

Cupping his face, you kiss him tenderly, savoring the taste of yourself on his lips. “I promise, you’ll never have to spend another day without knowing how loved you are,” you vow earnestly.

His eyes widen in surprise as he silently mouths the word “love,” as if trying to see how it feels on his tongue. “No one’s ever said that word to me before,” he admits quietly.

You smile gently, meeting his gaze. “Well, try saying it out loud next time. You need to get used to it.” Your lips find his again, gentle and searching, conveying all the emotions too scary to put into words just yet. You bite and suck at his neck, teasing relentlessly when his body betrays how good it feels. 

You work a faint mark on his collarbone, admiring it with a brush of your fingers as you quietly ask, “Are you really all mine?” Your awe-filled gaze meets his. He pulls you close, cupping the nape of your neck and murmuring, “Yes,” against your lips. A smile lights up your face, mirrored by his beaming expression as he witnesses your joy.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says earnestly, brushing your hair over your shoulder.

You roll your eyes with a teasing grin and mumble, “Don’t push it,” before silencing his words by pressing your tongue into his mouth. He pulls away after a moment, biting his lip as he forces himself to be gentle, playing with your breasts. Little tugs and pinches over one nipple while the other hand traces your curves.

It’s not nearly enough.

“I won’t break, Xavier. You need to do it harder,” you plead, frustration filling your voice.  Your plea is soon replaced with a surprised, strangled cry when he murmurs, “Yes, mam,” and stuffs his mouth full, biting and sucking roughly.

His touch turns rougher, too. His fingers squeeze your ass so hard they’ll surely leave marks, complimenting the bruise blooming on the swell of your breast. 

“All mine,” he says, meeting your eyes with a teasing, confident smile as he echoes your earlier sentiment. You squeak in surprise as he grabs your thighs and presses down, sliding you along his cock, using your pussy to smear his cum around, soaking your heat and thighs in slickness.

You take over, hips moving faster, desperately seeking more of the pleasure he’s bringing you. 

“You’re so soft and warm…” you murmur dreamily, ruining him when you finish with a whimper of, “Gonna feel so good filling me up,” before burying your face in his neck as you move against him.

“Can I put it in? Please?” he begs, lifting your ass just enough to rub circles with his leaking tip at your entrance. He’s trembling, holding back the urge to fuck you roughly. Instead of answering, you lower yourself onto him, wincing as his cock stretches you open. 

He can’t take his eyes away from where you join, watching you drip down his length as he delicately rubs your clit, his eyebrows scrunched up in an adorable expression of concentration. 

“Does it hurt?’ he asks, noticing your quiet gasp of pain as you take him halfway. You nod, whimpering slightly. He leans up to kiss you, pressing down on your bottom lip and tilting your chin to meet your blissed-out gaze. “You’re still so tight, angel. I’ll open you up better next time, I promise.” He nuzzles your nose, trying to distract you from the pain as he pushes in deeper.“Can you take it for me? I-i’m almost there,” he says, his eyes trickling back down to where you suck him in.

Pleasure begins to mix seamlessly with the pain, and you don’t bother to respond, your eyes rolling back as a sigh of ecstasy leaves you. Xavier takes that as a yes and gently presses you down until he bottoms out. Desire begins to overwhelm his features as he watches your essence mix with his at the base of his cock.

He searches your eyes, kissing you softly and murmuring, “How does it feel?” 

“Honestly? Nothing has ever felt so good. So full…” you mumble, starting a slow, torturous cycle of movements. You pull him out to the tip before letting him fill you up again, over and over, until the moment comes when he finally allows himself to let go. He presses you flush against him and pushes deep inside you, setting his own much more intense pace. He spanks your ass with an adorable smile, his blue eyes shining with joy. 

You eagerly match his movements, chanting, “Harder, Xavier! Harder!” You squeal happily when he flips you onto your back, throwing your legs above your head and fucking you so much harder. A mirthful smile appears on his face as his cock pierces deep inside you, forcing out a raw, strangled cry of pleasure. Pleasure builds and crashes in an instant, your pussy gripping and pulsing so tightly around him that he can barely breathe.

“That’s it, baby, cum all over me,” he praises, stroking your clit in time with his thrusts. His pace quickens, helping you ride your release. Sloppy sounds fill the air as you spill over him, spurring him on. He grips your hips tight to keep you from sliding as he fucks into you relentlessly.

“Such a good girl. You can give me another one, can’t you?” he murmurs, his weight pressing down on you, pushing his cock even deeper than before. The soft, pale hair trailing from his pelvis rubs your clit just right. His moves are deliberate, urging you to come again with a sharp cry as tears fill your eyes and your body starts to tremble. 

He kisses your cheek, his movements never slowing. “So perfect for me… Just one more, angel,” he whispers, making pointed thrusts into your g-spot over and over and over until you spill all over him again. 

He can’t seem to stop. Every orgasm he pulls from you only makes him more desperate and needy. “So fucking wet… you have no idea how good you feel,” he mumbles incoherently, burying his face in your neck and bringing you to release again just from the feeling of his warm mouth on your skin and his filthy words. 

“T-too much, Xavier, I can’t! Please!” You’re sobbing and overstimulated—a sensitive, weak mess. 

“Shh. It’s okay… It’ll be over soon. You want to show me how much you love me, right?” His tone is teasing, but the sincerity in his eyes tells you your answer means a lot to him. 

Tears fall harder as he kisses you, and you manage to choke out a strangled “yes.” 

“I know you do,” he says tenderly. His tongue pries open your mouth and softly commands, “Swallow,” as he spits into it. 

Blushing deeply,  you follow his instructions, moaning in ecstasy at the taste, which earns a pleased hum from him. He tugs on your bottom lip, admiring your blissful expression and the tears tracing your cheeks. His praises continue, bringing you closer and closer to the edge again. 

“Such a pretty little angel, following my instructions so well.” Another orgasm approaches alarmingly fast, feeling almost too powerful, and you wonder if your body can withstand it. Xavier seems to read your mind because he mumbles, “You can,” before fucking you even harder. 

You squirt so much that it pulls out a strangled, “Fuck, yes. You’re doing so fucking well…” from him as his cock squelches around inside you. “I–i can’t hold out much longer. You… you feel too good,” he admits softly against your lips.

 “Please, Xavier... Please cum for me, i–i’ll do anything,” you plead, needing to feel claimed by him more than you can express. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you murmur, “Do you want to finish inside?” pulling him as close as you can. 

He whimpers at your words, cradling your head against his chest as his cock continues to fuck into you mercilessly. The moment his hips stutter and he sinks into you with one last, deep thrust, his cum spills inside of you, and he captures your lips in the most tender kiss you’ve ever felt. Despite reaching his climax, he doesn’t stop. His cock pistons into you with renewed force.

With fierce determination, he pulls one final orgasm from you, his movements gradually slowing as you ride through it. As soon as he pulls back and looks at your ruined form beneath him, lust clouds his features, and his cock hardens again. Anxiety hits you over the state of your more-than-abused pussy, and you whine, “Noo, Xavier—just let me take care of you for a little while. ’m too sensitive.” 

He chuckles, scooping you up in his arms and resting back on the couch. You try to fight the arousal his hardened length pressing against your ass brings. He meets your gaze, kissing you softly and holding you close as your heartbeats grow steady. He peppers your face with gentle, searching kisses. 

“Earlier, I asked you how you felt about leaving Linkon with me,” he says, tucking hair behind your ear as nervousness plays on his face. 

“Mhmm; the forever trip,” you murmur dreamily. 

He smiles softly, meeting your gaze, and asks, “So, what’s your answer?” 

You nuzzle his nose and answer earnestly, “I’ll follow you anywhere, Xavier. Just lead the way.”

A month later, you wake up before dawn to find Sylus’s face just inches from yours, a wry grin on his lips as he glances at Xavier sleeping beside you. “I took your key away specifically to prevent this kind of thing,” you hiss, careful not to wake Xavier as you untangle yourself from his limbs and quietly climb out of bed.

You gently brush his hair back, marveling at how his smile lingers even in sleep now. The melancholy that once plagued him for centuries has vanished, replaced by a serenity brought by your affection. He often tells you that you make him feel truly happy and free for the first time in his life. 

After pulling on a robe, you follow Sylus to the kitchen, halting in your tracks when you see a brand-new laptop on the counter. “Sy, what did you do?” you ask hesitantly, eyeing the device with suspicion. He rolls his eyes and motions toward it.

“What does it look like, sweetie?” he retorts, as if that clears everything up.

“Why did you buy me a laptop, Sylus? You know I don’t like gifts…” you start, but he quickly interrupts.

“Well, you should have thought about that when you decided to move several hours away from me,” he replies. You can sense he’s happy for you and Xavier, but there’s a hint of struggle with this change in your relationship.

Drawing him close, you pinch his cheeks, enjoying the irritated glare he gives you. “You’re my best friend, Sylus. I’m not just going to up and leave you after all these years,” you assure him, giving his nose a gentle boop before turning away.

He chuckles, relaxing a fraction as he ruffles your hair and then refocuses on the task at hand. “I bought you the best one on the market. They assured me it has an excellent camera—I need to ensure that my pretty face comes through crystal clear during our video chats,” he says with a teasing grin.

“Ah, I almost forgot,” he adds, casually pulling a new, shiny smartphone from his pocket and handing it to you. “Both this and the laptop come with a tracking system that alerts me immediately if anything seems off,” he assures you, gently grasping your chin to meet your gaze. “Never hesitate to reach out for my help or just for company. I’m here for you, no matter how far away you are. Got it, dove?”

You want to tease him for being so serious, but his sincerity makes it difficult. It’s a rare and precious thing from him. With a gentle smile and tears welling up in your eyes, you pull him in for a tight hug. He freezes for a moment in surprise, but then his arms wrap around you, a smile spreading across his face as he swings you around.

When your feet settle back on the floor, the sadness has melted from his features. “The laptop has top-notch sound specs, too, so I can still sing to you when you’re feeling down,” he reassures you. It takes considerable effort to suppress the grimace that threatens to break your mask of enthusiasm.

Sylus lets out a low, knowing chuckle, easily seeing through you. “Hopefully, you’ll be able to fake that better over video,” he muses.

You grin and look around your empty home, excitement coursing through you. The transfer request with the Hunter’s Association went through almost immediately, and Xavier found a charming cottage with a small farm, plenty of bookshelves, and just enough room for the two of you. Sylus can’t help but smile at your evident joy. “Today’s the big day,” he teases.

You nod, your grin widening as he raises an eyebrow and offers a suggestive head toss. “You should wake your precious hunter now. You’ve got a lot to do,” he says.

Giggling, you pull him down to plant a kiss on his cheek, earning a blush that makes you laugh even harder. Then, you dash off to wake Xavier.

[circuitryandflesharchived]

“Idea’s Erasure”

PROLOGUE

Warnings: Technical Character Death- I mean- Maybe??? Chapter Theme: Dreams [Chillout/Ambient]

“.... I don’t want to contribute to the narrator style, but... There is something inherently intriguing about beginning with ‘my story started like any other... And then it went right off the rails’....”

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

“They can’t change a-what I like~ They can’t change a-what I say~ They can’t hurt me~ I’ll do things my way~”

Cold wind dragged nails along the cement, hissing over metal car skin and breaking through the pores of organic material. The sun was hiding behind a crowd of endless gang-clouds, nearly dripping with a desire to rain. The complex split and whirled in maddening mazes, refusing any sane mortal from discerning all of its depths.

One small speck was stupid enough to be out amidst the driving winds. Their black hair flicked this way and that, caught in a dance with the air around it. No jacket or hoodie was upon their back, leading to a raise of flesh on their arms. Their light blue t-shirt flirted with the wind all the same.

Two silver-gray orbs reflected the outer world with bleak shadows. Apartments rose up and fell as they stepped along, dark gray shoes tapping silently against the cement. A card of sorts hung loosely from their neck by a ratty old gray necklace, the letters ‘KDG’ engraved into the small metal tablet.

The song that had been playing through their earbuds came to a gentle end, letting the person’s thoughts drift down from the lyrical high. They shook their head. Both earbuds were pulled out. A ringing pain had settled in the person’s ears, but they barely noticed or cared. It was a ring so painful and ordinary to them that life felt wrong without it.

Their phone went off. They glanced quickly to the screen, reading the text that they had received.

“I GOT MY PAYCHECK EARLY HAHAHHAHA!!!! (Adi Lowkey, 4:31 P. M.)” The person smiled vaguely, a half-smile that didn’t quite reach their eyes. Of course she did. She always did. They closed their phone down, content to just walk for the moment.

The moment’s serenity was ripped away by a flash of white-hot electricity. The person didn’t even pause, instead glancing to the clouds. They raised both of their arms, hands wide open.

“C’mon! Bring it on!” Their words were highly rigid and structured, voice tinted up in pitch. Their height was decent- the size of any other human. However, the way they sounded and looked gave away neither their age nor their gender. At most, they were maybe sixteen based on looks. A sixteen year old girl or a twelve year old boy who was just entering puberty. “I daaare you!”

More white flashes. The weather would never dare, they knew that. The person continued walking, unabated. They blinked momentarily.

One of those flashes had seemed wrong.

The person paused, watching as more lightning struck down.

They couldn’t see anything amiss with further strikes.... With a subtle hesitation to their step, the person walked on. Nothing else really mattered at the moment. They were left to their thoughts- Adi and her paychecks, the rent on the apartment, their parents.

Everything was far too fresh for their liking.

“What are you going to do, Key?....” The words were whispered between cold and chapped lips. Key bit on some of the overhung flesh that was trying to escape their mouth. Key subconsciously ripped a small square of it away, swallowing the piece like it was nothing. A small golden key was pulled from the pocket of Key’s navy pants.

Key deviated from their previous line of walk, drifting like a specter. Their feet carried them silently towards one of the many apartments in the endless, maddening maze. Apartment 572. The key slid without a sound into the lock, turning with a muted click.

“.... Aside from continue on with this charade of life and death, that is...” Their mutter was almost a curse. A set of words to the unseen world to harm any creature nearby. The brown-facade door was pushed open. It slid on oiled hinges away from Key.

Key moved inside, closing the door behind themselves with nary a thought. They looked around the space. The apartment was decently sized, big enough for a living room and a kitchen- but the living room had been cannibalized in favor of a work space. Page after page of words were stacked on high, lead smudges imprinted into a white plastic table that served for a desk.

The walls were all white, with only a few select blemishes of a work boot or a cut into the material. The kitchen slowly pulled into focus as Key made their way towards it, opening their freezer. Inside was an endless tunnel of Hot Pockets. They pulled out a four cheese pizza Hot Pocket, ripping apart the packaging.

The scent of garlic and butter rang out in a home filled with the taste of coconut oil- cheap coconut oil. Key placed the Hot Pocket into its ‘pocket’, deftly getting the only plate in the cupboard and placing the Hot Pocket atop it. They then opened the microwave that was above and to the left of the freezer, placing their meal inside.

Two minutes.

Key removed themselves from the kitchen, taking a moment to look over the stack of forgotten words. Their gray orbs flickered for a moment with an old, burning desire- but it was gone in a moment. There were some things that simply could not be conjured once more, now that they were gone.

Age old realms of infinite possibilities were in those pages, now left to rot for eternity. That was all they were good for. They would rot, forgotten to time because they never had it. Key nearly touched the stack, but retracted their small hand at the last second.

Time would drift on, whether they approved or not. They didn’t dare look at the accursed uniform that hung just at the edge of the desk. It was clean, freshly washed and dried. The thing would haunt them until they rested and awoke to take on another mantle of a job they could barely mentally endure.

The microwave went off. Key pulled themselves out of their thoughts. They easily navigated back to the microwave, setting another timer for two minutes- this one without further cooking their meal. They moved over to the freezer. Key pulled their body over the edge, sitting atop the thing like it was the only seat they knew.

“.... What am I going to do...” A low exhale was breathed out in the near-silence, to the in-between places where they hoped a scythe was watching.

Lightning struck outside.

It caused a low bubble of a giggle in Key’s throat. They covered their mouth, rolling their eyes at nature’s attempt to kill them.

“Sorry dear, but I think you failed.-” The next sentence of their beginning paragraph was cut off. Key felt their hand go down further than it should’ve when they tried to touch the edge of the freezer. In fact, their hand felt fuzzy. Really, really fuzzy. The sensation spread like venom through their veins.

Key looked down.

And released a high-pitch scream so loud it would deafen the neighbors.

Their hand and a good portion of their arm was gone. Where Key’s arm ended was like something was slowly wiping away at them, erasing the skin and clothing and blood and muscle.

“WHAT THE FR-!” And it sped up. Key froze, staring at their own body as it began to vanish, that fuzzy feeling spreading all over. “NO NO NO NO-!!!”

And it was over before it could even hope to begin.

Outside, a single lightning strike went the wrong way- flashing blue for a moment as it arced into outer space, faint traces of peach and gray flickering along its energy skin.

“W̴a̵r̸n̵i̷n̵g̷:̴ ̶D̶a̸t̶a̵ ̴i̸n̴c̴o̸m̷p̴a̴t̴i̴b̷l̶e̸.̸ ̵M̶e̶m̷o̵r̸y̸.̷t̸x̷t̷ ̷F̴i̴l̷e̴ ̶l̸o̴s̶t̸.̸ ̶S̷p̴e̵c̴i̵e̵s̵.̵t̴x̵t̸ ̵F̷i̶l̴e̵ ̶l̵o̶s̸t̵.̷ ̴A̵t̴-̵t̴-̶t̸e̵m̴p̶t̶i̵n̸n̴n̶n̴n̵g̴ ̵s̶a̵l̷v̶-̵v̵a̶g̸e̸-̷”

[File End]

[scarlettlawyer]

Part 9 of my reaction/commentary to the Phantoms & Mirages fanfic series by @renegadewangs

(Chasing Phantoms): Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

(Haunted Specters): Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

(Vanquishing Mirages): Part 7 | Part 8

Welp. This is gonna be very painful for me on sooo many levels.

Hooo I kinda feel like I’m playing directly with fire in this post.

Now, it’s worth calling attention to the fact that these reaction/commentary posts are, first and foremost, built on my reactions to the source material. They are recounting the journey I, personally, went through as I read this series – that’s why I focus so much on my feelings and what I thought. There is more objective analysis at times, but it’s not the primary focus. Just in case you’re wondering why I’m focusing on myself so much and might get a little “omg can u shut up about urself and just get back to the story already???” pff. (And besides, more objective analysis is always inevitably filtered through the individual’s thoughts/mindset/perspective/preferences/etc anyway. So I’m basically just not even trying to tune any of that stuff out, as one would inevitably have to for a more proper series of reviews.) Ah… I hope reading in such depth about my personal rollercoaster journey is at least somewhat interesting. And not too boring.

…Yes, at the very least, I hope this post makes for a SOMEWHAT entertaining read.

That was part of my goal. Other than honesty to the point of self-sabotage.

Vanquishing Mirages, Chapter 18

There’s a whole bunch of small things I could comment on in this chapter but I’m going to gloss over them instead. I… can’t bring myself to dwell too much on the “side-things” in this post, really.

So. The image of the phantom, sitting with his head in his hands as Bobby and Palaeno dote over him while the phantom just irritably tries to wave them off is just, everything to me. xDDDD One of my faaaaavourite things. And then the phantom just leaping to his feet like that… The entire scene I could just go on and on about it at length… But I won’t. xDDDD The best game of “how much of an uncomfortable situation and awkwardness can we possibly apply to our dear spy – having other characters dote to the point of it being outright patronising – and how will this near-emotionless man respond to such outside forces?”

Okay actually, I will ramble just a Little. “Bobby and phantom = mother and child” is one of my favourite dynamics in this whole series. Bobby in this scene is just No. 1 Mum and it’s aaaall of my yes. So the phantom is forced to play the role of the child once more at this point in the chapter. The reality is that he’s a convicted criminal and therefore cannot be trusted on his own, hence requiring a bathroom escort. But he might as well be a helpless little child who requires adult supervision, as is the norm with children – this is the other amusing lens through which you can joke about Blackquill needing to lead the way there for him.

With that, Simon turned and led the way towards the door. The Phantom followed, as obedient as could be, and Fulbright looked like he was about to do the same. 

The “as obedient as could be” gets me every damn time, ahahaha. Because it really feels to slot him firmly into that “child” role. Being a good little child. For now. His major modes seem to be “obedient child” (e.g. “Sam Specter” doing the dishes in Haunted Specters if you wanted to push it) and of course the classic “petulant child”.

“Am I still meant to thank you for saving my life?” “Would it have even the slightest shred of sincerity to it?” Simon questioned. “Of course not.” “Then, no.”

THIS IS RIGHT UP THERE WITH SOME OF MY FAVOURITE PHANTOM EXCHANGES IN THIS SERIES.

“A fool, but not worthy of the title Fool Bright. Isn’t that right?” The Phantom managed some sort of failed echo of a smile. A smile that wouldn’t convince anyone who saw it. The words struck Simon as odd. Before the Phantom regained his memories, he would choose Fulbright’s side and use an almost defensive attitude to protect the man. Now that the lost year had returned to him, things seemed different.

Just. Shoot me. Please.

So I guess. Maybe he’s still trying to determine if Simon might be hurt the same way he’s sure Bobby will be?? I guess??? Perhaps… his words aren’t so much about how the name “Fool Bright” impacts him personally, but from his perspective… Simon calling him “Fool Bright” could imply that capacity for him to get deeply hurt by the phantom’s death, that Simon might also have some kind of attachment to him like Bobby does but is less obvious about it, and the phantom obviously doesn’t want that. So I guess his goal here… is possibly trying to determine if Simon has any sentimentality towards him that also needs to be stomped out for Simon’s own sake??

“You need to watch your tongue, Phantom. One might almost accuse you of being jealous.”

Me: um dude did he just. Go there? Did Simon really just- nah that can’t be right, I’m just reading things into his words that aren’t there you know-

“Your relationship? You believe I hold romantic or even sexual interest in you?”

Me: OH. OH OKAY. SO I GUESS WE’RE JUST? I GUESS SIMON REALLY WENT THERE HUH AND THE BOTH OF THEM ARE JUST NOT SHYING AWAY FROM THIS TOPIC OF CONVERSATION. THEY’RE JUST MEETING THIS TOPIC HEAD-ON. WELL. OKAY THEN!

The sheer level of whiplash that this turn in their conversation had on me- I had literally only just been joking with my friend about the parent-child dynamics present among the trio from EARLIER ON IN THE SAME CHAPTER as I’d been reading through it.

The scene just. Ends on that line. Wild enough on its own.

And then it. Bobby. The next scene. H. And then the ffffffffffffff

Chapter end.

Me:

“DOES ANYBODY WANNA TELL ME WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED???????”

And on that absolutely wild note, Vanquishing Mirages draws to a firm close. It was a little bit strange that this scene never gets revisited or expanded upon moving forward, but that’s no matter. I’m sure it was an innocent writing oversight. At least this fic managed to go out with a huge bang! Turns out that thanks to Simon, the phantom had been saddled with unnecessary feelings! Hahaha, what do you know! Sooo, that about wraps it up for me and my reaction/commentary/review for this post folks, I wish anyone reading this all the best! So next up, we have Lifting Spirits! Going into Lifting Spirits, the title already has a positive touch to it, and well, we’ll just have to see what else it has in store. Cya!

      Ah… I guess this post is a little short to just leave it at that then, isn’t it? Very well. Continuing on with the very next chapter that happens immediately after this one, as we begin the new fic:

Lifting Spirits, Chapter 1

He was just watching a documentary on the Tasmanian masked owl when the doorbell rang.

Hahaha omg that is such a Simon thing to do

A bit irksome, but then again, he was fairly sure he’d already seen this footage before.

Dfkjsfjksdf BIG NERD. BIRD NERD.

THE WHIPPED CREAM AND CHOCOLATE SAUCE COMMENT FROM BOBBY djdjnk GOODNESS ME. I wonder if we’ll get any further allusions to what his relationship with Domestique was, ahem, possibly like in future!

And there’s also th

     OKAY FINE.

     [sigh] FIIIIINE.

Finishing the Chapter 18 review then.

Well my first incredulous reaction was something like, “Are you… serious. Did we not just spend like… Two entire fics playing around with the notion that “Blackquill is Basically the phantom’s dad”???? And then you turn around and do this? HOW IS THE READER SUPPOSED TO FEEL ABOUT THIS? NARRATIVE CAN YOU MAKE UP YOUR MIIIIND? ARE YA REALLY GONNA MAKE A PLAY AT THIS AFTER ALL THE PARENTAL DYNAMICS THAT WERE INTRODUCED?

It’s… Oh my god.

But then again.

It wasn’t like these themes hadn’t been introduced before. The first fic in the series felt so far away, out of reach, and from so long ago (and I’ve already gone over how separated it felt from the rest of the story on first readthrough so I needn’t do so again)… But I had some vague recollections you know. The main thing that stood out to me was Blackquill’s confrontation with the phantom before the phantom allowed himself to fall from the apartment window. Where Blackquill basically Trump Cards the phantom with “Ha! You’re totally into me!” and the phantom went “oh god you’re right” and was soooo ruined over the idea that he was apparently ATTRACTED TO SOMEONE that he was like whew! Think I’ll be taking my leave now and never seeing or needing to speak to you or anyone else again, so great is my mortification! And then he went BYE BYE out the window, the end. That’s Totally what happened, right? And even if that’s not exactly how the scene went, I knew, for some reason(s) that I couldn’t quite remember at the time, that the phantom having a Thing for Simon during the first fic was indisputable. (WE WILL GET TO THAT).

And the thing that’s been preventing this being brought up this entire time? The memory loss. And what’s no longer an issue? The memory loss. It was paaaaainfully obvious that things were different once the phantom regained those memories. The entire parental dynamic wherein the phantom was positioned as being Simon’s son was all set up purely in Haunted Specters, during the memory loss phase. But if I looked at it this way, I took it as “fact” that phantom was into Simon in some way or another prior to the memory loss. All of the weird parental projection stuff seemed to only come after that, while the memories of the missing year were gone. And IF THOSE MEMORIES HAD NOW RETURNED… It makes sense that……………………………

There would be some kind of reversion back to…………

So could this fic compartmentalise it like that, then? And we are to leap from the parental realm now that the memories are returned, and straight into… this? Hmm. But this alone was not enough. There were a couple of other things, too.

See, I’ve already alluded to/essentially stated this previously, but… That scene just before the phantom allows himself to fall from the window? On first readthrough, at the time, I didn’t even particularly like it or truly appreciate it. And then, we come full circle, back to when I had all my pesky little “doubts” about how the phantom’s character was handled in the first fic, finally catching up to me for my full re-evaluation.

I hadn’t really bought the one-sided phantomquill during fic 1. It was one of those doubts from back then. It just hadn’t stuck at the time.

Would it stick now?

Let’s talk a bit about phantomquill.

Well, phantomquill has never been my primary focus. My primary focus has always been the phantom (in Dual Destinies content, anyway). If given the choice, I’d prefer to just have content that has the phantom in it. Not really phantomquill stuff, although phantomquill can certainly be interesting to think about, it was never really a priority or a preference for me.

Except… Almost all phantom-focused content usually seems to be inherently phantomquill in nature. Which is fine! It would be nice to just have some neutral phantom stuff, but it looked like phantomquill was the default. The prerequisite, almost, if someone was gonna have a focus on the phantom in their story. And I didn’t mind. But I’d probably equally enjoy said stories regardless of whether the phantomquill was there or not.

So I guess I’m always kinda inclined to just shrug and go “I GUESS?” when phantomquill comes along. But I had, however, become waaay more fond of phantomquill over the years. It still wasn’t much of a preference but I’d certainly gained an appreciation for it and quite enjoyed thinking about it at times.

And obviously, obviously, from how the last two scenes are set-up – the suspiciously sudden jumpcut between them, I knew there had to be more to what was going on. I knew there probably had to be missing lines that got exchanged that the audience hadn’t seen yet, leading up to/into what Bobby walks in on.

But regardless of what those lines were… The outcome would be the same, wouldn’t it? So what difference could the conversation’s direction possibly make? Things, in one way or another, from how their conversation continues, must have gotten out of h- well. Spiralled into what Bobby sees the phantom doing!!

And I was also amused because HMM… THIS WHOLE SCENARIO… WHEREIN A BLOND PHANTOM… KISSES SIMON, COMMITTING A TERRIBLE MISTAKE IN THE PROCESS OF DOING SO… ALMOST SEEMS FAMILIAR, SOMEHOW.

But actually, there’s really no harm in that. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with fanfics containing similar scenarios playing out with their own differences added into the mix. It’s FUN and EXCITING to see different authors handle somewhat similar situations in their own ways. If anything, it should be encouraged.

So could I really accept this scene playing out in THIS fic in all its terrific absurdity? One of the important questions for that was, did it feel “earned” in any way?

I found myself thinking back to previous Vanquishing Mirages chapters, as covered in the last post. About how, back then, I was thinking how this was “peak phantomquill” and how if there’s any way phantomquill should be, it was this. Even back then, I inadvertently found myself glancing at the fic’s tags. “No phantomquill tag? No phantomquill tag? Huh… well okay then. I guess the author doesn’t think it’s phantomquill if it’s not “romantic” in nature and/or only remains subtext. That’s fair enough.” To look at those scenes… To think back to the first fic… And look at it all through a phantomquill lens…… It did feel kinda earned to me.

And you even warned me, in your own way. “Originally planned to have one-sided phantomquill.” ORIGINALLY. That’s essentially what you told me, isn’t it? Aaaand that confused me for the longest time. Honestly. I read through Chasing Phantoms like “???? “Originally” how? This one-sided phantomquill is uh, PRETTY SOLIDLY CANON IMO.” I just figured you meant “one-sided phantomquill that wasn’t just subtext” or “way more obvious”. Figured that in your opinion, if it only ever remained subtext yet still clearly there, well it wasn’t proper phantomquill then was it?

And then when I read this chapter, I was just like… (AND EVEN MESSAGED MY FRIEND BASICALLY SAYING THIS):

“THIS FIC ISN’T EVEN TAGGED AS PHANTOMQUILL W H A T”

(HOOTY HOOO PAST ME THERE’S A REASON FOR THAT).

But it just made me think, “Oh, well. I guess the only reason the author would tag something as “phantomquill” ever is if the pairing becomes canon then? Which it obviously never will here. Therefore there’s no tag for it.”

Now, I’d like to draw your attention to something I wrote in a recent reply of mine to you:

“Not to mention that I loved the courtroom jokes bit so much that, once I decided to let myself enjoy it and accept it, my Willing Suspension of Disbelief was strengthened tenfold and was ready to take just about anything you would throw at it. (And you sure were ready to throw stuff at me and had more up your sleeve!). I gave the story even more leeway to work with willingly, because everything was so perfect and I wanted my suspension of disbelief to have plenty of leeway to fully enjoy EVERYTHING. NO MORE INNER KILLJOY. I knew I could trust in the narrative because it was so strong.”

I guess this was a huge part of my downfall.

I looked at this set-up the chapter left us with – one-sided, inevitably angsty phantomquill, thought back on everything and what it came down to was… couldn’t I just accept it, just like I’d accepted things like the joke-telling? Did I want to? Did I enjoy this scenario?

…Yeah. Yeah, I realised with a bit of surprise that I did. I REALLY, REALLY DID, ACTUALLY. And I wanted to accept it. My inner killjoy was cast aside. It was tiiiime to just enjoy this perfect “angst” or whatever youd call it.

It didn’t matter how ridiculous it may be. When it comes to fanfiction… the sky tends to be the limit. It’s precisely where you can see little fantasies like this one played out. It’s… It’s… If there’s any place this kind of scenario could happen, for sure. This was it. The best thing to do is just… enjoy it for what it is.

Almost everything had primed me to thinking that… This was indisputable one-sided phantomquill, was it not? And if just about every phantom-heavy fic out there seems to have some phantomquill in it, it’s only natural that this one would too, right? There was nothing driving me to question it. And accepting it just made me ridiculously happy and excited. Yeah, it’s “angsty” and one-sided, but it made me so dang happy nonetheless.

And if this wasn’t bad enough.

I went on to make a number of other mistakes that proved to be very, very fatal.

I read this chapter after midnight. And it was sooo much to process, and I wanted to be fully awake to process whatever was coming next… And it was just way too late at night. I figured, I wouldn’t be able to handle whatever was coming next… I needed to sleep. I needed to… save it for tomorrow. And it was too late to read another chapter anyway.

…Oh, if only I had read on… I could have spared myself so much. If I had just gone straight from this chapter into the next one… I would’ve been mostly fine. Nothing would have truly had a chance to sink in and my misconception would have been quickly cleared up. I would’ve been pretty much fine, I’m sure. I would have likely suspended judgement and saved myself…

It really is the kiss itself that was the killing blow, too. If the chapter had only, if it had only ended at the phantom’s last line, and Bobby’s segment saved for the next chapter, I would have EASILY maintained plausible deniability and would have been spared. Even when Blackquill and phantom’s conversation turned in that direction, I had NOT made ANY concrete assumptions.

But what actually happened was.

I turned my computer off,

And went to sleep.

And ohhhhhh boy.

I was very excited to find out how the narrative would continue in the next chapter. Especially how the prose of the text itself would approach it. Naturally, there was going to be immediate fallout.

But the narrative patterns of this series so far also fooled me. One thing was clear: the audience was to find out what happened during the jumpcut from Blackquill’s to Bobby’s POV in the next chapter.

And WHOSE perspective is missing, that is normally left until last? Was it not evident…?

So it seems like my mind couldn’t help brainstorming, and seems my dreams were like, “Oh, what if the prose was like this, starting with this sentence, and then…”

Haah.

So you see, when I woke up the next morning, I had these lines of prose fresh in my mind! And I really liked them, actually! I couldn’t let them go to waste! I had to write them down…!

Yep. It’s terribly embarrassing to admit. But I wrote my own little snippet of a sequel before reading the next chapter. “I can compare, see how the next chapter actually goes…!” I thought to myself naively.

Which brings us to…

Vanquishing Mirages, Chapter 19

Finally, I eagerly open the next chapter to read and it was just…

I don’t think I’ve ever been more thoroughly played by a piece of fiction in my entire life.

There was that time I was reading a book and one of the beloved characters that I was deeply attached to was very clearly dying. Their death had been one of the possibilities I had been DREADING even before starting the book. It’s a little bit hard to stay alive when there’s a sword lodged in you like that, you know? Their consciousness was slipping away by the moment. I couldn’t read on through my tears. I had to pause reading and pull myself together to push on.

…And when I did? The character suddenly, recovered on the next page. And was fine. Because here’s the thing: said character was a zombie. But like, a weird kind of “alive” zombie which could still die I guess. Had the sword remained firmly lodged in him, chances are he would have actually died. But another character – devastated over this character’s impending death, 100% sure it was about to happen, pulled the sword out. And then, what do you know? The character sat up again and was like “lol wait I’m actually feeling a lot better now lol… well I guess that’s being a zombie for you huh.”

Hah. Well. That’s one example that comes to mind and at least, in this case… the bait and switch was actually going from one thing I desperately didn’t want – to something I actually desperately wanted. For the character to live, or “live” as a perfectly conscious zombie.

There is another example that comes to mind, a little bit closer to home, which involves… ship baiting.

I like to think that it is very hard to make me fall for ship baiting. Sure, I ship things that aren’t canon in media. And I do so with the full knowledge that they aren’t canon and will most likely never be canon. I keep those two realms nice and separate and therefore my feelings never get hurt. I never get too invested to the point of becoming upset… And I can tell, usually, what is sheer shipbaiting and what constitutes actual, canon evidence.

So there was one piece of media I was into, where two male characters were shipped with each other from the very start by the fandom, even before they ever interacted with each other. Then they actually started interacting and their dynamic was awesome, they cared for and were looking out for each other. So the shipping of the two characters only heightened dramatically in the fandom, naturally. Now, everyone was getting invested, but I looked at these two characters and went… “yeah, sure, I would love to see them get together, so I ship it.” But I figured, you know, it was never gonna actually happen, so I didn’t get too invested. I thought, yeah… the writers are deeefinitely throwing in some intentional bait with those two that they will never actually follow through on. So I didn’t get invested.

But then something happened that changed everything for me… One of those two characters got 100% confirmed, beyond a shadow of any doubt, to be canonically in love with the other, in the media itself, undeniably. I always usually look for plausible deniability to cover my bases. That’s what ship baiting relies on. But there was no way around the concrete fact that this character was in love with the other.

And in that piece of media, there was no canon reason, absolutely none, why those two characters couldn’t get together. And if Character A’s canonically in love with Character B… there were MOUNTAINS of evidence that Character B felt the same way. If anything, if I had to take a blind guess at who was in love with who, I would have figured it was Character B way more than Character A.

Well, the writers messed up and stuffed around and played with its audience. They wanted to keep baiting this ship, they introduced very transparent & pointless roadblocks as to why they couldn’t be together only after the fact of one of the character’s feelings revealed, and yeah, turns out the other character doesn’t feel the same way back. They employed just plain bad writing to introduce pointless drama and turned the previously inseparable pair against each other.

Nooow that hurt a lot because I was shipping something that, for all intents and purposes canonically speaking, could've been on the verge of becoming a reality. Before the writers decided to add unnecessary complications and reveal that the other character never felt that way. I got really invested and it turned out to be blatant baiting and, yeah.

Well the example in your fic is obviously very different from that one on a number of fronts. The example just provided was baiting the ship becoming canon. The example in your series is merely baiting the notion that a character had a specific type of feeling(s) for another. In some ways that made it all the more crushing.

Suffice it to say, I felt like the BIGGEST, STUPIDEST idiot EVER when I read the next chapter. I still do. The pain never truly went away sdklsd;madl;dfkj

Well, let’s start on the chapter itself, shall we?

With the chapter summary:

The Phantom’s crazy way of thinking turns the situation into a bit of a soap opera. How does he really feel about Simon Blackquill, as far as feeling goes with him?

Stupid, stupid me, leaning into a microphone: um. Do you even have to ask. This chapter summary alone was one of my favourite things in the world… before reading on.

”My actions were Bobby Fulbright’s actions, not a reflection of my own desires.”

Okay so. I had not actually remembered this line until this second readthrough, and I absolutely have to call bull on this. We know that prior to the phantom stealing Bobby’s life, Bobby never acted on his sexuality. FURTHERMORE, EVEN IF HE HAD, I’m calling bull once AGAIN and am gonna say that the real Bobby Fulbright would never have abused his role as parole officer to cross a line that should not have been crossed WITH A PRISONER THAT HE IS PERSONALLY RESPONSIBLE FOR. Unavoidable power balance. The Bobby I know would not, end of story. Even if the real Bobby was attracted to Simon. He wouldn’t have acted on it if he was Simon’s parole officer. AND THIS ENTIRE SPIEL IS MOOT ANYWAY BECAUSE THE PHANTOM WOULD HAVE NO WAY TO TELL WHO BOBBY WOULD BE ATTRACTED TO AND I SOMEHOW DOUBT HE GETS THAT INVESTED IN HIS ROLES TO FOLLOW THROUGH TO THIS EXTENT. I guess what it comes down to is how he later basically says “seeking acknowledgement is one thing, seeking a relationship is entirely another”. So part of the driving force was the seeking acknowledgement…? BUT IN A WEIRD NON-PHANTOMQUILL WAY…? And there’s also the fact that the identity of “Bobby Fulbright” and the nameless spy known as the phantom were blurring together. But IF the identity blurring actually played a role, that would make it phantomquill, so I kind of doubt that’s part of the explanation.

And like, sure, I get it. Pretty sure “Bobby Fulbright” behaved that way immediately after Simon mentioned “the phantom” to him. So his goal was to manipulate Simon, a little bit of that “seeking acknowledgement” in there too (BUT NOT ACTUAL PHANTOMQUILL-STYLE “SEEKING ACKNOWLEDGEMENT” APPARENTLY????) and who knows. Maybe he was searching for the damn profile. Maybe he thought it might be hidden in Simon’s clothes. WHO KNOWS. But like, I get it, it was “not a reflection of his own desires”, APPARENTLY.

fffffffffffffff

”I am what one might call aromantic and asexual,”

So as a quick aside, worth noting that on the first readthrough… Like… I knew the kiss was still coming so at the start when he’s saying this stuff, it felt more like him denying it, only for ya know… the kiss to happen and all. It was only after it fully played out that I came back to this line all like “Oh my god… he was right… he wasn’t kidding…” BUT WE’LL GET TO THERE. WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY THOUGH-

My goodness. Reading this sent me into another realm. It just like? Astral projected me to some other planet because heLLOOOO I WOULD LIKE TO DISSECT THIS A LITTLE BIT:

Firstly, the word “asexual”? Okay, that’s commonly used outside of the context of people being ace. So it would not be too surprising for him to say something about being asexual because, that’s already a commonly-used English word, even if that “common definition” (see: plants and whatever) is not the definition he is using here, he could easily use this word in this context without knowing that plenty of people actually do use it in this context as a label for themselves.

BUT “AROMANTIC” … NOW THAT’S INTERESTING. “Aromantic” is a very specific word with a specific definition! It is not a commonly-known English word in day-to-day life among the average person and it is not used outside of people using it as a label to identify themselves with!

ALL OF THIS TO SAY… FOR HIM TO USE BOTH WORDS? IMPLIES HE KNOWS HIS STUFF.

IF the phantom had been randomly pulling out the word “asexual” because it would be “obvious what it means in this context” without knowing that asexuality is A Fairly Common Thing, he would have just called himself asexual and nothing else. Because for people who aren’t particularly knowledgeable on the subject, they often conflate asexuality and aromanticism together!

With that being said, there is still the possibility that he isn’t aware of the communities that have been formed around those labels. That he was doing a simple equation here and putting “a-“ in front of “sexuality” and “romantic” to demonstrate that he’s “none” in both.

BUT I’M STILL INCLINED TO SAY THAT THE FACT THAT HE SPECIFICALLY SAYS “AROMANTIC” MEANS HE’S KINDA KNOWLEDGEABLE ABT IT…

And I just CANNOT get over this and the implications attached to it. The phantom knows about asexuality and aromanticism and self-identifies as aroace? THE PHANTOM KNOWS ABOUT THE SPLIT ATTRACTION MODEL? DSDFKLMLKDF;LDSL;-

Ohhh my god.

And yes, in this year 2019 these terms and communities are becoming more and more widespread, but they’re still not particularly mainstream. I know also that this fic is set in 2028, but… I’m more primed to think about when this fic was written – a few years back – when these terms and communities would have been a little bit more obscure. That’s the primary background I think of RE: the phantom actually knowing this stuff.

Also, hah, it’s so many layers because WOW… Talk about absolutely awful aroace representation in a sense right here. You get this character in your canon calling themselves aroace and they’re… the despicable, emotionless murderer & VILLAIN. Feels like it falls directly into the “bad representation” trap, HOWEVER. I do feel that the situation is much more nuanced in this case.

Like yeah, he might be an emotionless murderer, and on the surface that looks bad, BUT! He’s also a major protagonist that we have come to sympathise with at times and feel bad for… The story has followed and focused on him so much. It has shown him in so many different lights, somehow managing to make him such an extremely well-rounded character with depth. Therefore, at least to me… It doesn’t necessarily feel like bad representation at all. He’s not limited to being the bad guy. He’s so much more than that. This is nothing but another aspect to his character. And being aroace is not necessarily directly linked to his villainy. So much about him has been broken down and deconstructed. So somehow… by some miracle… In the context of this fic, the fact that the emotionless murderer is aroace could almost circle back around into being almost good representation, amazingly enough. Or… well, that’s the thing. Whether it’s “good” or “bad” representation most likely ultimately isn’t your primary concern anyway. Neither is “representation”, for that matter. What matters is a good story with good characters that make sense. So there may be no point talking about the representation angle anyway: it’s not necessarily “representation”. It’s just a character with a certain identity that happens to neutrally exist in the plot, whoever that character may be and whatever that character may happen to be.

And I also have happened to see you mention that you yourself are ace!

But I’m merely analysing the text as I would with any piece of fiction – and will continue to do so. Being aware that you’re ace yourself gives me a little bit more perspective on things, but I wouldn’t have necessarily been aware of that in different circumstances and therefore wish to look at the text as its own entity and how it comes across to me as the reader.

As for the rest of what he says…

Ohhh geez. Now it’s time to talk about something else. Another little fatal mistake I made in my approach to reading this series. We must once again return ourselves to when I read Chasing Phantoms.

Now I myself am asexual, of the repulsed kind… xD

So when I came across That phantomquill scene in Chasing Phantoms, my response was basically just, “oh GEEZ that is NOT a mental image I want thankyouverymuch nope nope nope nope.” And just – kept reading on and did my best to forget about that scene. Juuust bury it away and not think about it. :P Ignore it! Pretend it didn’t happen. And this alone created some “distance” between myself and the narrative at the time, that my instinct already was to reject something connected back to that version of the phantom.

Looks like I did a little too good of a job forgetting about it. And with it out of mind, well, I’d become sooo heavily entrenched in the series by this point and really was clinging to everything that was canon.

I read this chapter and it was just like… oh dear. Oh DEAR. That was a thing. That happened in this series!!!

It was just SHOVED in my face undeniably in this chapter, as if I could not have possibly received a nastier slap in the face with the reminder of that incident’s existence. xDDDD

My distance when reading Chasing Phantoms had just come back to bite me in the biggest way… I’d gotten so heavily attached to the canon of this series by this point. But I’d conveniently forgotten the canon that I didn’t want to acknowledge, and hadn’t fully acknowledged back then. Suddenly! I was well and truly being forced to acknowledge EVERYTHING! Ahaha.

The spy pushed away from the sink to take a few steps towards Simon. The look on his face was harder than it’d ever been before. The closest thing to fierce determination the man could muster, perhaps.

THIS must be when he gets the STUPID idea to, I DON’T KNOW, SHIPBAIT ME INTO OBLIVION? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

There was nothing heartfelt or affectionate about it.

NOTHING????? NOTHING?????????

“Awww… Busted.” The Phantom ran a hand past his mouth, but he was still grinning. It was a grin that Simon remembered from those first visits to solitary confinement. A grin that’d been coupled with purposeful jabs below the belt. “Isn’t that a damn shame?”

In spite of everything…………. I love this line. I just love the “aw busted” it’s sdjdfnkljdlnk I LOVE IT. HE IS THE WORRRRRRRST.

“Don’t be like that. I was only attempting to relive that pleasant night we had last year before it’s too late.”

Me: OH MY GOD SOMEONE SHUT HIM UP SOMEONE SHUT HIM UP RIGHT NOW I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR ANY OF THIS SHUT IT DOWN.

Phantom: [opens mouth to speak]

Me:

Oh I can’t. I cannot.

Me: “I am BEGGING you to shut up. For once in your miserable life, in your whole pathetic existence… SHUT UP.”

This narrative had given me so much Suffering & Sympathetic Phantom and a whole manner of like… “Nice” Phantom and this is just…………… W O W. The narrative primed me so much on things like Sympathetic Phantom and “hahahaaaa he’s a child just look at him!” and this is just like! A harsh, merciless jolt! -OH ONE LIKE HE’S ABOUT TO RECEIVE ACTUALLY, WASN’T THINKING OF THAT WHEN I TYPED THAT BUT HAHAA…

BUT HIM SAYING THESE THINGS HAD SUCH ENTERTAINING SHOCK VALUE TOO. THE FLIPPANCY!

The Phantom stirred and pushed himself into a sitting position. He was still trembling, though at the very least that detestable grin had been washed off his face. “You’re welcome.”

Goooo to hell. Go to hell.

He briefly considered retrieving his feather from the ground as well, then thought better of himself. Five second rule aside, the fact that it was lying on the bathroom floor of a hospital instantly rendered it trash for the janitors to do away with.

SDKJBSDKJB SIMON.

“Understood.” The Phantom pushed himself to his feet, though he seemed to be having some trouble keeping his balance. Perhaps the electric currents had left a stronger impact on his body than was evident. To think this incident took place right before a jarring surgery…

HE IS SUCH A MORON. YOU IDIOT.

Perhaps this would be their final conversation, Simon realized with a sudden jolt. …No, the surgery would be harmless. It was an easy procedure. That was what the doctor had claimed.

This I had a small bit of trouble with, because something like brain surgery hardly seems like an “easy” and “harmless” procedure, but the dangers were actually touched on as I pointed out in my previous post… I just guess I would have emphasised the dangers a little more. But perhaps you did research and were able to determine that such a hypothetical procedure… would be “harmless”…?

The Phantom closed his eyes for a few seconds and Simon could see the corners of his mouth twitch. “I am… glad that we got to be partners one last time. Trust or no trust, I think that we make a favorable team.”

Look my soul had already well and truly left my body by this point of the chapter so I did not remember this line at all. I don’t really know what the hell’s it ‘sposed to mean or what’s going on. I guess it doesn’t matter. I have already been DESTROYED.

Dear Phantom,

Yours Sincerely,

-One of your biggest fans.

Sooo I was devastated. And felt deeply humiliated. And then that devastation turned to pure desperation. Even if things turned out this way… There had to still be hidden actual one-sided phantomquill nonetheless, right? I needed this. I needed this so badly, I’d staked everything on one-sided phantomquill’s reality here, something I had never truly done in any other phantom fic I’d ever read – fics that would willingly offer up phantomquill to me on a silver platter.

But every last bit of “phantomquill” that I’d been assuming and hadn’t even cared for prior to this point turned out not to be phantomquill at all…? It faded away, just when I needed it most. At which point, a second wave of devastation hit me. At the fact that not only had the chapter gone horribly, horribly awry from what my fantasies had played out in my mind, but that there had apparently never been any one-sided phantomquill. Heightening my sense of my own idiocy tenfold.

And this second wave was exacerbated by another realisation: Even if there were traces of genuine phantomquill to be found in other parts of the series, it hardly made any difference in the end. My feelings were hurt by chapter 19. Everything had been banked on that. And nothing could change how it actually played out.

And I thought it over countless times, because I usually like to pride myself on understanding and siding with authorial intent, you know? Or at least striving to most of the time. Was I truly just unbelievably stupid? What was I supposed to expect from the chapter? What about the other “phantomquill” scenes and implications that took place, dotted all throughout the series, that can be viewed through different lenses? It was clear that some baiting had been at play, but how much of it had been intentional and how much was me just an idiot reading the text incorrectly? (The fact that you were gunning for it in the beginning makes it seem like such a deep-rooted, ridiculously long-running con-job… my goodness… Even if it wasn’t intended to be a con from the start… That means the audience… Can you really say the audience is not being conned way back in Chasing Phantoms? How else were they supposed to interpret the phantom’s characterisation back then…?! How were they supposed to know…! And if actual phantomquill had been what you intended at the time of writing it…!) Oh I was ruined and driven into doubting myself so much and KICKING myself over this.

There was… No justice in any of this, it seemed. And I could not even feel “righteous” in any way. I just felt pathetic.

Because I’d only been asking for something one-sided… I’d wanted to see my favourite character suffer even more. It’s not the “normal” “I just want character to be happy” type angle. So it felt like such a weird thing to beg for. But beeeeeg for it I did anyway, huh.

I just! Wanted! To see some more Vulnerable Phantom! Maybe with just a little bit of genuine emotions leaking through! What would have made it so wonderful… Is that it takes place JUST before the surgery! Therefore it would demonstrate that even with his severely limited emotional state! He still…! THAT’S WHAT I WANTED OK IS THAT SO WRONG?!

No it isn’t and meet me out back I’ve got sources come prepared I’ll present my ten page essay on why you wrote your own fic wrong and sjsdjsdkj

^Me, in all-out confrontation & idiot mode, arguing at you over this, well and truly willing to go down with this one-sided ship

And when some of the devastation subsided, I went into Bitter Mode. Ohhhhhhh the saltiness. Ohhhhhhh I got salty, veeeeery salty. STILL not entirely sure if I’m done being salty. Or will ever be done being salty & bitter over this, played up intentionally to my friend to reap all of its comedic potential. :P I’d been burrrrrrrrrned.

So there you have it. Since you like irony so damn much…

I took the “phantomquill” in this series for granted at first. “Phantomquill” that I later practically begged for.

I didn’t care a whole lot for the initial scene where the phantom lets himself fall from that window in Chasing Phantoms (of course, I later realised how good it was on its own). A scene that was directly tied to and paralleled one of the extreme heights of my enjoyment in Vanquishing Mirages, also helping me to gain a far deeper appreciation of said earlier scene.

And the one time where I got super invested in phantomquill and wanted it, really wanted it, was with one of the very few fics that would flatly refuse to provide it.

Oh wait, one more thing too. The aro ace thing. Lol if he was agender too in this, he’d be triple-A hahaha

That was another thing when I came across the phantomquill in Chasing Phantoms initially. I was just like, “mmmm, no, nah. If anything, going by the “canon” of the game, if you absolutely had to put a label on the phantom, he’d be aro ace.”

Well. Turns out…

And, under just about any other circumstance, it would make me pleased to see the phantom call himself aro ace, and yet… The circumstances couldn’t be more… :T

So when it finally sunk in that, yea he is?

I was just like…

“No… no no no no no no… This is not happening… This cannot be happening…! MY OWN LOGIC IS BEING USED AGAINST MEEEEEE……………………”

: (

But yes. The ironies that can be listed of this situation do go on and on.

That was it. The last Simon saw or heard of the entity known as the Phantom.

Me, who in spite of everything, actually does still love the phantom very much and does not want to see him now promptly vanish from this really well-written series in his really well-written form, and has noooo idea how this is gonna go and what the result of this surgery is gonna be and is therefore very nervous about how “the phantom” will transform after this point:

If the doctors were successful, an intangible spirit would take the form of a true human, rather like a phoenix being reborn from its own ashes.

“I’ve literally just been brutally left in the dust I am hardly in any state to appreciate the beauty of sentences like this one. GO AHEAD, SHOW ME YOUR PRETTY PROSE, BUT IT’S A LITTLE LATE NOW ISN’T IT. IT WON’T WORRRRRRK I’M TOO BUSY HAVING BEEN SO THOROUGHLY OWNED BY A BAIT AND SWITCH THAT I’M LYING ON THE GROUND IN TINY PIECES”

To prove once and for all whether or not there was a true identity hidden inside him.

That’s nice but I literally just could not bring myself to care anymore. I was done. The fic ended in the last chapter. It was finished. “My version’s canon to me now.” That’s one way I could try to cope and pretend my heart & dignity can remain intact. Whatever is going on now it’s just an interesting au. My little self-indulgent version is what obviously happened.

This fic could do whatever the hell it wanted because nothing about it mattered anymore, I didn’t care, it’d lost me. I pettily decided at the time that Anything after Chapter 18 is the Wrong Timeline so It’s all meaningless as far as I was concerned!

Fulbright… Was he truly so angry that he would miss the moment of the Phantom’s awakening?

It’s kinda funny because in a sense, I was Bobby at this point of the chapter. Absent : ) Yeah, ok, I was reading on through my pain… But I was very. Emotionally absent, disconnected, or whatever you’d like to call it. In Chasing Phantoms I wasn’t particularly invested because of all the doubts I’d had. And here, my investment in however the series would continue dropped DRAMATICALLY because I’d been too invested in it. It was just like… “Ok. Might as well see whatever the hell happens. But nothing in this series can ever truly make me happy again as it did before. The line’s been crossed. Sayonara.”

…Yeah, rather bold words to utter just prior to Lifting Spirits.

But you baked the most perfect, beautiful and tantalising-looking phantomquill cake to me… and then you just… IMMEDIATELY destroyed it. You took a hammer to that cake. Threw it in the bin, leaving me desperately, brokenly reaching for the icing still smeared messily on the table, and when I did, YOU SLAPPED MY HAND AWAY. No siree I could not even have some of that icing. Ya blew it. I was done. UNFORGIVABLE. Line crossed. Your rights to the work were forfeit as far as I was concerned. It was all mine now.

Was he consulting with his trusted therapist, perhaps?

HOHOOH what if he did though. I can’t remember if that gets confirmed either way. PFFF WELL YOU CAN ADD THIS MESS TO THE LIST OF THINGS BENNY MIGHT KNOW ABOUT THEN???? HOW… INTERESTING!

Ok but also:

I SWEAR TO GOOOOOOOD THIS LINE ACTUALLY MADE ME SO? CONFUSED AND BORDERLINE, IF NOT OUTRIGHT SUSPICIOUS ON FIRST READ BECAUSE LIKE.

Okay, there was another much more direct Benny reference earlier this same fic. He’s actually NAMEDROPPED. I didn’t point it out at the time because I didn’t want to be too tedious about it and waited until the next reference like this, which I figured there would be, so that I could comment on MY THOUGHTS.

So waaay back earlier in the fic, when Benny actually gets namedropped for the first time:

What sort of advice would his therapist offer? He wished he could call the man and explain his situation, because Benny always had just the right answer to any problem.

Me at the time: wow, even the offscreen therapist gets a name? What a series! Is this series fleshed out or what?!

But even back then.

There’d just been. Such a handful of references to this guy.

Like, when the therapist first started being referenced it was all like “oh I’m so glad Bobby’s getting the counselling and help that he needs”.

And then he just

Kept being referenced after that

And with each iteration I just got a tiny bit more and more like

“O-okay…? We know Bobby is getting help… We are aware of it. And that’s great. I’m really glad. Not sure why the therapist matters though… weird focus on the therapist since it’s Bobby’s recovery that is paramount here, not the therapist helping him. Just not relevant.”

Like I was deeply impressed that such an unimportant character got named, yet at the same time it was like. Aaaaalright. He’s really not warranting this much focus. But okay then.

And now it’s Blackquill bringing him up, not Bobby. And SURE I guess the mention KINDA makes sense from him but the focus felt so fishy to me… “TRUSTED therapist”… why the emphasis on how great this guy supposedly is. C’mooon. It REALLY made me go HMMMM. I was just like… who cares though. There’s literally no reason to bring the therapist up he’s not connected to any of this or the plot at ALLL… He serves ONE purpose and that is to be the unseen background force helping Bobby to work through his issues. That’s it!

Vanquishing Mirages, Chapter 20

Oh… This chapter… is so good. Wow… Wow. Not much else I can say rn.

He’d never appreciated her. Now it was too late.

Simon saw no need to keep the truth from him. This plan had been the Phantom’s, not his own. He’d merely been roped into it as an unwilling accomplice, yet he refused to cover the spy’s tracks.

Ffffffffffffff

Yeah I was gonna go off about “idiot spy” again at this point but I’ve tired myself out from all the salt I’ve overloaded into this post so that my past pain can serve at least some kind of fun… But god. God. The phantom’s plan was PAPER thin just, ridiculously flimsy, yeah sure he came up with it on the fly whatever I guess but it like. Depends on Blackquill playing along and ffffffffffffff. Alright I guess maybe he figured Simon would play along if Simon was interested in shielding Bobby from grief as the phantom explained was his intent but god. Ghhhhhh. It just feels like insult to injury too cause he has this Grand Plan to protect Bobby which immediately proceeds to fail.

And it was enough to fuel his loathing further. He shook his head so violently that it made him dizzy, yet he managed to stop himself from raising his voice again. Shouting wouldn’t make his point any clearer. Instead, he stepped forward and crouched down before Fulbright’s chair. He grabbed the man’s nearest hand with both of his own. He was lousy with words and he knew that much, but he needed to at least try to communicate his thoughts- his feelings- before this misunderstanding was allowed to spread any more. “Do you truly not remember what I’ve told you from the day I first met you?” he demanded, his tone of voice more fierce than he’d intended but lacking in volume nonetheless. “You are nothing like the man who played the part of my chaperone. I would sooner take my own life than return to those days. You, on the other hand, give me another reason to live. I can tell the difference between the two of you and that makes all the difference in the world.”

[…]

“I love you, Bobby Fulbright, not the fallacy that pretended to be you. However, if you dare to call my feelings into question again, I will not hesitate to tear you to shreds myself.”

This is a Crowning Moment of Heartwarming for Blackbright right here. This is SOO good. I really admired and appreciated this shining Blackbright moment even amidst the whirl of everything else I was busy reacting to.

And… On that uplifting note, I’ll finish this otherwise ridiculously salty mess of a post. XD I’ll tackle the rest of this chapter & more beyond next time. This is already waaaaay too long anyway. But I knew that this post would inevitably be a massive one, and I had to essentially say Stuff You to the very notion of any self-imposed word-limits.

[christinaengela]

Hello friends and fans!

Welcome to my 15th newsletter: March 2018 – jam-packed with tidbits and information about new releases and projects I’m currently busy with!

Coming up in this edition of Another Round @ The Crow Bar:

Regular updates, new releases, and a monthly spotlight on one of my books, this time “Panic! Horror In Space #2“, book 2 in Panic! Horror In Space Series!

Hello!

February was hectic – both because of work and other projects I have going on the sidelines, most importantly our handfasting which is taking place on the 10th of March! I will be including more about that and some photos in the next newsletter!

As I mentioned in last month’s newsletter, I’ve been busy with some of my dad’s books. My dad, Theo Engela, was also a writer, and he left a couple of unpublished works lying about when he punched out 33 years ago. I’ve decided to pass the first couple of months before our handfasting by working on these and getting them ready for publishing, which I will be doing via Lulu.com, alongside my own works, as editor. The first is finished and just about ready to go up, but I doubt it will happen before the big day – there’s just too much to do and focus on right now.

On the less happy side of recent news, on the 6th of March, I also tendered my resignation as a member of the Executive Committee of the South African Pagan Rights Alliance. I will leave you to read that separate item on your own rather than bring down the mood of the whole newsletter.

But before I waffle on too much, let’s get on with the newsletter! 🙂

New Releases

None for the moment! I’m busy with final arrangements for our handfasting on the tenth and I’ll get back to writing and publishing as soon as I can!

The Galaxii Series

Blachart by Christina Engela

Demonspawn by Christina Engela

Dead Man’s Hammer by Christina Engela

Galaxii – Into The Abyss by Christina Engela

“Galaxii – Into The Abyss” – a special omnibus of all three already released titles in the Galaxii Series, was released on 23 June and is only available in paperback 6″ x 9″ format. Work on book 4, “Where Darkness Softly Treads” is still pending due to other projects at this time.

The Quantum Series

Black Sunrise by Christina Engela

The Time Saving Agency by Christina Engela

Dead Man’s Hammer by Christina Engela

Loderunner by Christina Engela

Prodigal Sun by Christina Engela

High Steaks by Christina Engela

The Quantum Series – Keep Off The Crabbygrass by Christina Engela

“The Quantum Series – Keep Off The Crabbygrass”, an omnibus of The Quantum Series titles 1, 2, 3 and 4 (“Black Sunrise”, “The Time Saving Agency”, “Dead Man’s Hammer” and “Loderunner”) was released in July 2017.

About The Quantum Series will give you more background about the series, its settings and characters. To get a better idea of what the latest two titles are about, read What Readers Can Expect In “Prodigal Sun”, “High Steaks”, “Fortitude” & “The Last Hurrah”.

Panic! Horror In Space

Panic! Horror In Space #1 by Christina Engela

Panic! Horror In Space #2 by Christina Engela

Panic! Horror In Space #3 by Christina Engela

Panic! is a sci-fi/horror series, which will have some decidedly sci-fi characters encountering some decidedly horror entities – ghosts, haunted objects, zombies, etc. along with my usual twisted brand of humor! The first two titles are available in paperback and ebook versions on various distribution platforms including Amazon and Lulu. “Panic! Horror In Space #1” and “Panic! Horror In Space #2” were released earlier this year and “Panic! Horror In Space #3” was just released on 18 November 2017!

Non-Fiction

Bugspray by Christina Engela

The Pink Community – The Facts by Christina Engela

The Peed Off Peasant’s Collection of Awesome Parking Memes

On A Personal Note

Fan Mail & Honorable Mentions

Noticed in the past month by my long-suffering PA and fiance’e, Wendy K. Gloss, were the following honorable mentions:

“Christina Engela’s books are full of adventure and funny situations. The sci-fi is not too overly technical and the characters are quite unique. The writing is done with wit and funny repartee. If you are a novice at sci-fi, hers are good series to read. Her short stories left me waiting with bated breath and giddy anticipation for the next one. I thoroughly enjoyed them. Her talent and imagination are quite something to behold!” – Dina Gloss (on my fan mail page)

Alain Redcliffe, a friend of mine currently working in France to teach English, asked me if he could use one of my short stories in class – so naturally I agreed and promptly sent him my short story “Little Green Men“. The assignment was to see how his 10th grade students would interpret the description of a scene from a 15 or 20 line excerpt from a piece of sci-fi literature – in a quick drawing or artwork. He sent me a photo of some of his students’ interpretations – included below – and said they would be reading this newsletter – so let me take this opportunity to thank and congratulate you all on a job well done! Here’s a wave and a big, big smile for you all the way from South Africa! 🙂

I display my Fan Mail & Compliments with pride, gratitude and humility. You are always welcome to have a look.

Hate Mail & Horrible Mentions

February was rather quiet on the hate mail front. I’m almost sad to say I have nothing new to show you this time! (I may have something to show you next time though!)

This turned up in my Facebook filtered inbox and I only saw it in February. I’m not sure what this guy’s cerebral malfunction was… Perhaps sending women he has never known nasty little emails helps him to get it up. Who knows? Anyway, Kavit, here’s your five minutes of fame. Enjoy.

(I’m rather proud of my hate mail, and you can review it here – but be forewarned, don’t do it while eating or drinking or you might choke while laughing!)

Interviews

Nothing new during this past month! If you would like to do an interview with me about my works, please do get in touch!

New Videos

Nothing new at the moment, but in the meantime, here is the book trailer video for “High Steaks”!

New Listings

Nothing new for 2018 just yet! All my already published books now seem to be listed just about everywhere! Amazon, Anobii, Barnes & Noble, Bol (NL), Book Depository, eBookMall, FictionDB, Fnac (FR), Foyles (UK), Goodreads, Indigo, iTunes, Kobo (prices in ZAR ), Lybrary, Nook, Takealot (prices in ZAR ) and 24 Symbols. I recommend readers make their purchases via Lulu.

Monthly Book Spotlight [Spoiler Alert]: “Panic! Horror In Space #2“

“Christina Engela proudly presents the next two episodes in a series of horror misadventures in deep space with the crew of the I.S.S. Mercury.

Dead Center: Some people enjoy watching paranormal TV shows – but not Stuart Flane, captain of the Terran starship Mercury. Having just narrowly missed being a ghost – or worse, himself – after a weird incident involving reanimated corpses and alien nanobots, Flane wanted nothing to do with playing host to a bunch of paranormal investigators for a popular TV show called ‘Specter Adventures’. Neither did he fancy a 12 hour jaunt on Floridia-7, which was described by some as ‘the most haunted abandoned Terran outpost in the galaxy’ – but since he owed Commodore Peters for covering his ass after he lost nearly his entire crew to the zoms, he reluctantly agreed. And that, pretty much, is where things started going off the rails.

The deserted mine administration complex on Floridia-7

Mak Sagan pursued by Satan’s wheelie-chair!

Through A Dark Glassy:  Haunted paintings. Possessed dolls. Nightmarish accursed items that leave messy trails of misery, horror and death behind them through the pages of history. Regular folk would run a mile if someone offered them such a terrifying object, so what sort of person would want to actually collect them? More importantly, why would anyone think it was safe to transport these items via a courier service with only a poorly printed paper sign reading “WARNING: ABSOLUTELY POSITIVELY DO NOT OPEN” stuck on the box? What if someone did? Even more of interest to Captain Flane of the intrepid starship Mercury, why did it always have to be his ship that drew the short straw?”

Synopsis:

Christina Engela proudly presents the 2nd volume in a series of horror misadventures in deep space with the crew of the I.S.S. Mercury. In “Dead Center”, to repay a debt, Captain Flane accompanies the crew of the cult TV show “Specter Adventures” in a “lock-down” of the most haunted abandoned Terran outpost in the Galaxy, while “Through A Dark Glassy” explores the creepy consequences of placing a paper note reading “WARNING: ABSOLUTELY POSITIVELY DO NOT OPEN” on a crate containing some of the most dangerous haunted items known to humanity – and sending it away via a space courier service – and not in a hypothetical way either.

A collection of haunted items – a crate full of trouble!

“Ow…fucking…ow!”

Buy Now: Paperback  /  Ebook

Edition: First Edition Published: 10 August 2017 Pages: 224 Dimensions (inches): 4.25 wide x 6.88 tall

‘Like’ “Panic! Horror In Space” by Christina Engela on Facebook

In Closing

Well, that’s it, folks! 🙂

Thanks again for all your support, friendship and interaction! Until next time,

Cheers! 🙂

If you would like to know more about Christina Engela and her writing, please feel free to browse her website. If you want to know what Christina Engela’s focus group or target market is, please read here. If you would like to read more about Christina’s life and experiences, please go to her Biography and the article “Timeline of Milestones, Awards & Achievements“. To leave her a message, please use the Contact form. Visit her Shop. ‘Add’ Christina Engela on Facebook (Profile). ‘Like’ Christina Engela on Facebook (Page). All material copyright © Christina Engela, 2018.

Another Round @ The Crow Bar #15 – March 2018 Hello friends and fans! Welcome to my 15th newsletter: March 2018 - jam-packed with tidbits and information about new releases and projects I'm currently busy with!