#light fingers is an incredible ambition with an incredible ending for all the horror it forced me through and i'm so grateful

[thegreatyin]

honestly looking back at all the irem futures. the funniest takeaway from all of them is that fires is 2000% doomed by the narrative. no matter what, This Specific Evil Capitalist Bat, out of All The Other Evil Capitalist Bats, is apparently The Most Dead Guy Coded member of the bazaar's fucked up goofy horrible workplace sitcom. how does (will?) this even happen

[blacknovelist]

“I’m not gonna cry when I finish my ambition in fallen london” I said, when I was looking up what i need to finish it so I could finally get around to it a month ago. “I won’t cry because I know what’s gonna happen, more or less” I said today, five minutes ago.

you know, like a liar.

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 11)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3245 Warnings: fluff

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​​ Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 10 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

It was cold. No, that was a massive understatement. It was freezing. It was the type of weather that caused a chill to settle in your bones before you had even stepped outside, and you definitely did not want to be outside. Not when the mere action of standing outside for more than one second caused your face to burn from the frigid winds.

You forgo style, bundling up in the thickest jacket you have with gloves, scarves and a hat. You were sweating under all your layers but it was better than freezing. Thankfully the wine bar you were meeting Wanda at was only a few more frozen steps away.

It’s warm in the small restaurant, packed with people looking to escape the cold just as you were. Wanda waves at you from a table and you questioned how she was even seated before you had shown up, considering the crowd this seemed like the type of place that wants your whole party available before seating.

“The owner is Sokovian,” she smiled, shrugging her shoulders proudly. “And we’re going to order the paprikash.”

There was no arguing with Wanda, though you did choose the other menu item you would be sharing. You liked tapas and sharing so you could have a bit of everything but what you wanted the most right now was some wine.

Time seemed to move by so slowly at the hospital today and you really couldn’t wait to get out. It was Saturday night but only you and Wanda were available to hang out and you didn’t mind that at all, in fact you really wanted to speak with her.

“So I wanted to talk to you…” You took a dramatic pause, taking a sip of wine for courage. “...about Bucky.”

Wanda’s eyes widened with intrigue as she leaned closer, a smile spreading across her face as she was ready to listen.

“That kiss on New Year’s was…”

Her hands shook with glee. “Oh my god I knew it!”

Your face scrunched with confusion. “What do you know?”

“You and Bucky! I knew this would happen. I called it and ahh I’m so excited.”

“Slow down there,” you chuckled, motioning your hands for her to settle down. “Wan, what I’m trying to say is that kiss was incredible.”

“Aaaannnnd?” Her mouth hung open wide with a smile.

“Wanda, this isn’t about Bucky!” Her expression dropped into a frown, she pouted as she took a large sip of wine. “Kissing him was amazing, seriously, he’s a fantastic kisser but kissing him made me realize how much I miss being kissed.”

When you first began college you were casually dating someone, wanting to enjoy life as a young student in New York. Then your world turned upside down. Working full time and going to school left you without a lot of free time and putting yourself out there to meet new people seemed more intimidating the longer you put it off. It was easy to just convince yourself that you didn’t have the time to devote to a relationship and everything was fine up until recently.

Wanda was right in a way, Bucky had a big impact on your life. Your friendship with him led to the larger friend group and soon you began to see things for how they looked on the surface. Everyone was in a relationship except you and Bucky, and you knew his opinions on dating.

Bucky’s kiss sparked so much inside you and ever since you’ve been trying to reconcile the feelings that you can’t let go of, longing and loneliness. Bittersweet thoughts plague your mind as you think about how much of a gentleman Steve is, placing his jacket over Peggy’s shoulders when she was cold, or how Sam knows just the way to get Wanda to burst out with joyful laughter; or Natasha and Clint and how they know each other so well as best friend’s do, their hearts filled to the brim with love.

You wanted all of that but truthfully you would settle for a fraction of affection. Maybe it was time to finally download some apps, go out a bit more and meet someone. It was a scary thought, too scary for the moment, but thankfully the wine helped distract you.

By your second glass you felt nice and cozy with warmth spreading across your cheeks. You eyed the last crostini, staring back at Wanda with a big hopeful expression because it was so delicious. She waved an approval, laughing as you cheered under your breath before grabbing it and taking a bite.

“So you’re going for it?” she asked, nodding to your phone on the table and the visible Tinder logo.

Wiping the corner of your mouth with your napkin first you answered, “Yes? I don’t know. I want to be but...”

Wanda grabbed your phone and tapped on the screen, much to your horror. “Look, there’s no harm in downloading the app, okay? That’s step one, easy. I won’t force you to sign up but you really should.”

“I’m scared Wan. What if no one likes me? What if I don’t have anything to say to someone and can’t hold a conversation? They’ll think I’m as boring as burnt toast and it’s gonna make me shut out the world forever.”

The wine comforted you again as you finished the glass, setting it down on the table and finding Wanda’s sympathetic eyes staring back at you.

“Y/N, you are not boring. You’re developing an organization with Tony freakin’ Stark! You’re a hardworking, kick ass social worker who saves lives– ”

“Wanda I– ”

“Don’t interrupt me while I’m hyping my best friend!” She said firmly while pointing her finger in your face. “You’re the glue to our whole group of friends. You’re an amazing, talented, beautiful, kind person and anyone that doesn’t see that isn't worth your time.”

Your lips had slowly pulled into a smile the more she went on. Leave it to Wanda to always have your back and know just what to say.

“Love you Wan, thank you. Okay, I’m gonna maybe try and make a profile by the end of this weekend…. Or next weekend.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “In the meanwhile you could always knock on Bucky’s door if you really wanted to.” Her brows rose mischievously.

“If I didn’t think it would ruin our friendship I would absolutely make out with Bucky every second of every free moment I had. Wanda, I swear you have no idea what those lips can do.”

Talking about Bucky suddenly made you feel a lot warmer and Wanda didn’t miss the large lump you swallowed as you took a drink. She smirked, holding back a comment she could have made. Instead the check arrived, saving you from any further embarrassment.

That night you stared at the app on your phone, contemplating whether you should make a profile or not. Craning your neck around you looked at the wall you shared with Bucky.

You hadn’t seen him much since the kiss on New Year’s, and your anxiety made you wonder if you had already ruined things. It was a silly thought. You shared a kiss, nothing more and as you are well aware, Bucky does not grow emotional attachments like that.

Opening your phone to your messages, you wrote a quick hello but then realizing it was a Saturday night you deleted your text without sending. There was no noise coming from next door meaning he was probably out, and the idea of interrupting him if he was with someone (which was a big possibility) made you feel really uncomfortable.

Tomorrow would be a new day, you can text him then when he’s alone.

You woke up with ambitions to be productive but the steady fall of snow that began to cover the city made you change your mind. Today was not a day to do anything despite needing to. You bundled yourself up in your comforter and made breakfast, carefully setting the bowl of cereal down on the coffee table as you tucked your feet into your blanket burrito.

Scrolling through Instagram you saw Bucky had posted a story from early in the morning, a black and white video of the snow coming down which reminded you to message him. You replied to his post, asking what he was doing up so early, then sending a secondary message realizing he might not have been up early but still awake.

Then your nerves got the best of you, thinking if that was in fact the case then you were probably disturbing him with all the messages you were sending now. You sent a final text, apologizing for bothering him, which probably made it all worse.

You shook your head, tossing your phone beside you as scrolled aimlessly to find something good to watch so you could distract yourself. Thirty minutes into a movie you heard a knock at your door.

Still bundled up, you shuffled towards your door, looking through the door and were surprised to see Bucky standing there.

“Hey,” you said, smiling as you opened the door.

He was wearing a dark blue sweatshirt and light grey sweatpants. His hair was loose and looking a little bit wild, as if he had only combed it through with his fingers.

“Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine. What’s goin’ on?”

Bucky looked relieved, dragging a few fingers down his temple. “I messaged you back and I don’t know… you didn’t respond so I thought… well I don’t know what I thought but I’m glad you’re alright.”

A soft smile pulled at his lips as he stared back at you which set your mind at ease. “Did I wake you earlier?”

“Nah, I was up. Couldn’t really sleep last night.”

“That sucks. I kinda wanted to sleep all day since it’s so gross outside but I know it’ll mess me up for tomorrow so I’m just being a potato.”

Bucky chuckled, giving your “outfit” a once over as he seemed to approve. “So, what do potatoes do?”

“Well this potato is finally watching Back to the Future.”

Bucky blinked rapidly, his mouth falling open with bewilderment as he stared at you. “What do you mean finally? You’ve never seen Back to the Future?” he asked, with a hint of exasperation in his tone.

“I mean…” you looked everywhere but at Bucky, pressing your lips together as you tried to break the news to him gently, “I’ve seen clips here and there and I know things about it… Doc Brown, the DeLorean, flux capacitor...”

Every word broke Bucky’s heart. “You’ve never seen Back to the Future?” he repeated.

“Wrong, I’ve seen about thirty minutes of Back to the Future.” You laughed as Bucky threw his hands up in shock. “Do you want to watch it with me?”

Bucky gladly accepted your invitation, locking up his place before he went into yours.

He muttered under his breath, still in disbelief that you haven’t seen this movie as he made himself comfortable on your couch. “The score! Do you know about the score and how amazing it is?!”

“I can’t wait for you to tell me,” you winked, anticipating an earful of musical knowledge. “Can I get you anything?”

“Nah, I’m good.” A chill ran down his spine that he tried to shrug off. “Maybe a blanket? Oh wait.”

He turned around to pull the fuzzy blanket over himself but it definitely wasn’t thick or large enough to keep him warm in this weather. The only real blanket you had was currently wrapped around your body so you wanted to share.

You took it off your shoulders and sat beside Bucky, removing the fuzzy blanket so you could drape your own across both of you. Then you placed the fuzzy blanket on top of that to add an extra layer of warmth.

You smiled looking at Bucky as you asked if he was ready to watch the movie though your eyes drifted to those lips of his, perfectly pink and so much softer than you imagined. The memory of your kiss makes your heart stutter and it takes a moment for you to realize you need to press play and not think about kissing him.

It doesn’t help that you’ve shuffled closer to each other. It’s for warmth, nothing more. Bucky tried his best not to distract you from watching but he was squirming in his seat, itching to talk about the music.

“See how the score begins softly? You hardly notice the drums. Then everything gets stronger, the drums, the horns, and as Doc spots the car coming down the empty street the score amps up even more signaling the danger. It’s fantastic!”

You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t. Somehow Bucky’s passion for his work had stunned you into silence and all you could do was nod, smiling so genuinely your cheeks began to hurt as you listened to him. Bucky may not realize the way he glows when he talks about music but you see it, he’s shimmering brighter than snow in sunlight.

It was nice to spend a lazy Sunday with Bucky, two potatoes that continued to watch movies and order in food when you were hungry. Plans with everyone for the following weekend were brought up but not once did he mention the New Year’s party. Not that you expected him to. It was nice not having the kiss awkwardly hang over your friendship.

“Blanket warm. I don’t want to leave,” he whined before getting up.

You walked him to the door, stealing a quick look at the way the sweatpants hugged his ass. Clearing your throat in an awkward cough you wished him goodnight, “I’ll try not to sit on my phone the next time you text me.”

Bucky leaned in to hug you goodbye but his lips made a detour, feeling them press against the soft skin of your cheek.

“G-goodnight Y/N.”

You stood in your doorway, waiting to let the breath out that you hadn’t realized you were holding in until after he closed his door. It’s nothing, just a friendly kiss on the cheek, nothing more than that.

“Hi Mr. Napoli.” You smiled as you approached the older man in his hospital bed. “I spoke with your son and he said he’s on his way.”

You had to repeat yourself louder a few times for him to understand but he gave you a gummy smile when he finally did. He had come into the hospital late last night after falling in his apartment and breaking his hip. Living alone had apparently become more difficult over the last few months so you’ve prepared options to discuss with his family when they arrive.

As Mr. Napoli continued to speak with you, your ears perked up at a loud conversation. Looking up for a moment you caught the gaze of a man staring at you as he stood over the bed of another man. He was tall and slim, dressed nicely in a suit under a wool peacoat. His hair was dark and slicked back though it was cropped short on the sides, with stubble peppering his face and neck.

He smiled, nodding as if to convey an apology for the noise he and his friend made. You felt your cheeks pulling the corner of your lips slightly but focused your attention back to Mr. Napoli.

“Miss, can I have more water?”

“Of course, let me ask,” you replied.

Scanning the area you checked for any nurses that might be around. Unable to find any that weren’t in the middle of something, you told Mr. Napoli you’d be right back with it. The ER kept the refreshments for the patients in a locked room so you walked towards the nurses’ desk in hopes someone there could help you.

“Thanks Stacie.” You smiled back as she needed to call the doctor to make sure this wouldn’t interfere with Mr. Napoli’s pre-surgical prep.

As you turned to step away from the desk you nearly walked into a body. Gasping, it took you a moment to realize it was the man from before.

“Sorry about that,” he said, chuckling lightly. “I wanted to apologize about before. Hope my buddy and I weren’t interrupting your work.” His tone was soft with a heavy New York accent.

“That’s alright, you didn’t,” you said, studying his features up close. His eyes were much darker than you realized, like deep chasms that were full of mystery. Pale pink lips pulled into a smile as he extended his hand towards you.

“I’m Billy.”

You shook his hand, able to tell right away that he was the type of guy that takes pride in taking care of himself. His hand was lotion soft, not a strand of hair was out of place and his skin looked so flawless you were a little jealous.

His gaze fell to your ID badge. “So, Y/N. How long have you been in social work?”

“So eager getting to know me, Billy?”

Billy shut his eyes as a smile crept across his face. “I can’t help it, I’m very observant.”

Your lips pulled into a smirk as you stared at him skeptically until Stacie called your name. She told you to wait a moment as she got the okay to give Mr. Napoli some water. Turning back to Billy you noticed his stance was taller and stiff.

He raised his hand to salute. “Former Lieutenant William Russo, US Marine Corps.”

“I get it now. You’re not just a creep that reads people’s name tags.” Your smirk gave way to a tiny smile and Billy relaxed.

Through a laugh he replied, “I try not to be.”

His smile was pretty, making his whole face light up, those eyes sparkling like onyx gems. Your attention was turned away for a moment as Stacie handed you a plastic pink pitcher full of water.

“Well, I have to get this drink back to my patient. It was nice to meet you.”

As you began to walk away you heard Billy’s footsteps rapidly catching up behind you.

“Wait, Y/N.” You turned to find him digging out something from his pocket. “Maybe I could take you out for a drink one day?”

He handed you a sleek black card which you put in your pocket. “Goodbye Mr. Russo,” you said, giving him a tiny salute that made him smile again.

Later that evening as you were getting your coat on in preparation to leave you felt something digging in your hip. You remembered Billy’s card from earlier, pulling it out now to finally read it.

The card was as dark as his eyes and in bold white text was the name of the company, ANVIL. Beneath it was his name and title, CEO. No wonder he dressed so well. His number was staring back at you.

You thought back to your conversation with Wanda, maybe you should go for this. You were still too scared to make a profile on Tinder, worried about what strangers might think of you but after meeting a gorgeous man that actually wants to take you out it gave you some renewed confidence.

Not wanting to seem too eager (or desperate) you waited two days before texting Billy. A day of back and forth texting led to plans to go out. Your heart raced with anxiety; maybe you weren’t ready after all.

PART 12

[alexiela73]

Contest Winner 1

Merry Christmas to @karkata-english , one of my three contest winners! I hope the year held many joys and wonders for you, and the next one will do the same! Please enjoy your prize.

What had he done, Gabriel thought to himself, raking a hand through his short hair as he slowly walked down the street. What had he done?

Choosing to hire Moira, to use her to help him with his genetic mutations… what had started as a way to help him and molded into more. And now Gabe was realizing that his ambition was pushing him for more then he had anticipated…and was firing back in a way he hadn’t expected. 

Especially now, even as there were moments where his skin would flicker and melt into shadows in spots. Solid black tendrils of shadow that wisps around him… he was stronger, yes. The experiment had worked in that sense, but had failed. There were…moments where he felt like his fingers turned to smoke, like he couldn’t grasp anything.

What was he going to do? What was he going to tell you, he thought warily, knowing what your reaction would be if you found out. You had told him from the start that Moira was trouble, that it wasn’t worth losing himself to her sciences. And if you knew that he’d been working with her, letting her experiment on him like guinea pig…

A shudder slid through him at the thought. There were few things that angered you- you were generally calm, sweet and a bit soft spoken. Angry though and you could be incredibly terrifying. 

Stopping in front of a small house, Gabriel hesitated as he looked at the lit windows. The sky was dark, and few cars passed by. The house was cute, with little gardens in the front.

They were well-tended, with budding roses and tulips and many other flowers that he could not name. There were many days where he’d enjoyed just sitting on the porch, watching you work in the gardens…the happiness in your face as you tended your plants.

Letting out a sigh, he pulled his hood up and over his head before stepping up the stairs to the house. Opening the door, Gabriel was hit by the warm scent of freshly cooked food in the house before entering and shutting the door. Home…the place smelled like home.

“Gabriel?” a voice called, and Gabriel’s heart skipped a beat as it always did when the two of you reunited. “Are you home?”

This was likely the most mundane part of his life, considering his job as commander of Blackwatch. And yet, this was likely the most important part of his life…coming home to you.

“Yes, Karkata,” he said, taking off his shoes. “Just got home. Something smells amazing.” Perhaps if he kept his hood on, made sure that you couldn’t look at him for too long, then you wouldn’t notice the wisps of shadow beneath the hood.

Tomorrow. All he had to do was wait until tomorrow- Moira had promised that she would be able to find a cure overnight. That it would be okay and his body would return to a solid shape. Perhaps you wouldn’t even have to ever know of Moira’s involvement in Blackwatch.

How would he hide himself from you, he thought. In the light, it would be too easy…and then an idea popped into his head.

“Hey, baby? Why don’t we watch a movie with dinner-” Gabriel says, walking into the kitchen and he froze. Inside the kitchen, the table was set up with a satin white clothe. There were two plates heaped with hot food, and two glasses of red wine.

In the middle were three candles that smelled of cinnamon, he noted from where he was. And sitting there…was you. In a long, pretty black dress that flowed around you and had a slit along the side that gave him a view of your long legs. Hair pulled up into a side ponytail, Gabriel saw you had dolled yourself up…just for him. How beautiful you looked.

Swallowing hard, he stared at you while you twirled a strand of your hair around your finger. “Happy anniversary!” you said, smiling prettily and looking rather shyly. Gabriel’s heart stopped.

Oh…no. Oh no. OH NO. Gabriel…he’d thought there was something he was forgetting this morning, but this was not what he’d been expecting. All week…you’d been hinting at it. You’d mentioned today again and again, and he hadn’t understood the significance. He hadn’t remembered your two year anniversary.

Managing to smile brightly, Gabriel walked over and leaned in to press a soft kiss against her cheek. “Happy Anniversary!” he said, even as his heart continued to beat painfully in his chest. How could he have forgotten?

Looking almost shy, you took his hand. “Do you like it? I made your favorite meal,” you said happily. “I didn’t realize you would be home late, so it might have cooled off a bit but its still good. And I even made your favorite cake too.”

Gabriel managed to keep his smile as he turned off the light and took a seat at the table. He couldn’t say no to dinner with you, not today, and not when you had put so much effort into this. All he had to do was…keep you from noticing the shadows.

“It looks wonderful,” Gabe said softly. “It really is. I’m sorry I couldn’t come home sooner and cook for you. You already do so much,” Gabriel said, reaching across to take your hand. 

“So do you,” you said with a laugh. “And I understand that. I’m so proud of you, Gabe. I really am..” you murmured, turning your laced fingers over….and it took only a moment for him to realize what you’d stopped and were staring at.

His fingers were black, little wisps of smoke rising from them. Heart falling, Gabriel watched as horror filled your eyes and you slowly dragged them to his. Neither of you spoke for a moment as your hands slowly separated.

“What…why…is your hand…” you said, your voice small.

“Don’t worry about it,” Gabriel said quietly. “It…it’ll be fixed tomorrow. I promise.”

Swallowing once more, you stared at him. “Why are your fingers turning into smoke, Gabriel? What is going on?” you demanded quietly, knowing that there was something more to this. To all of this.

Noticing that he was wearing his hood up still, you got out of your seat and moved around the table. Gabriel knew what you going to do, knew what you’d see as your hand carefully pulled back the hood.

Gasping, your hand covered your mouth and you stared at him in shock. “Gabe…my god…” you whispered, reaching toward him but looking almost scared to touch him. Turning, you slowly started toward the sink, trying to get a grip on this.

Now Gabriel was worried. “Karkata, it’s going to be okay. Tomorrow I’ll head back to work and Moira will fix this. I’ll look normal and everything will be okay-” he started to say when you suddenly whirled.

Anger filled your features, swift and fierce. “Moira?” you snarled, and Gabriel suddenly wished he hadn’t spoken at all. Perhaps it would have been better if he’d stayed at work, but then…

“Karkata, look-”

“Gabriel, you promised me you wouldn’t work with that woman!” you cried, hands curled into fists. “You promised and you lied! That woman is terrible, Gabe! She isn’t helping you for anything else other then her own gain, and she doesn’t care about the consequences for you!”

He was really not in the mood to be criticized right now, as he felt his temper flare up. It wasn’t even your fault: the issue was that you were right and he couldn’t stand that. Couldn’t handle knowing the mistake he’d really made, and so he lashed out.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Gabriel said coldly, “so stop acting all high and mighty. I’m trying to defend our nation, defend you. I can’t do that unless I’m strong and she is the only thing that will make me powerful enough to protect everyone!” His voice was harsher then he had intended and made him feel guilty, but not guilty enough as you straightened your back.

“Is this about Jack? You want to be as strong as him?” you demanded, but continued even as a flicker of rage crossed his features at the name. “Jack wouldn’t be stupid enough to trust that witch’s help! Jack would keep his promises and likely be more rational in these kind of decisions! Jack-”

“If you think Jack is so great, why don’t you go fuck him instead? ” Gabriel snaps, and the moment he sees you flinch he regrets the words full-heartedly. The shock and hurt in your face… those words had never meant to leave his lips. He’d just been so…so angry.

Gabriel got up, seeing the tears in your eyes, which slowly slid to the ground as you struggled not to let your misery show. He knew you had just been worried, and he knew it was warranted…especially looking at him right now, at what he was…

“Baby…I…Karkata, I didn’t mean…” Gabriel stepped toward you, and felt a sharp pain in his heart when you backed away, flinching away from his hand. “Don’t…I…I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry, Karkata…”

The tears in your eyes slid down your cheeks silently, your hands held to your chest as you tried to breath. To keep yourself calm. Never had you thought he’d say something like that to you…it stung, much more deeply then you’d anticipated.

Turning, you left the room in a hurry as a sob escaped you. The sound of hurried footsteps told you that he was following you quickly. You couldn’t face him though- your Gabe wouldn’t say that to you.

“Karkata!” he said, catching your wrist and stopping you in place. You didn’t turn to face him though. “Baby… I’m sorry. You were right, okay? I’m…I’m being selfish. I will get this fixed and…and she will leave. I’ll send her away, and I’ll never have anything to do with her ever again…” Gabriel prayed you could hear the truth in his voice.

In the end, if Gabriel…if Gabriel had to choose between the two of you, between you and becoming powerful…he’d choose you, a hundred times over. Surely you knew that…

After a moment, you slowly looked at him, your cheeks wet and your eyes hollow. “….Did you even remember it was our anniversary? Or was your…project the most important thing to you?” you asked softly.

There was a minute of silence, and it was all the answer you needed. All that you needed to know about his priorities.

“I love you,” you said, voice hitching. “I need you, Gabriel, more then anyone else does. I wish you…could understand that.” After a moment, you turned. Pulling your hand from his, you slowly walked upstairs and left him there staring after you.

Breath shuddering, Gabriel watched as you walked away from him. His heart cracked in his chest, and he knew he’d made a grave mistake. All of this had been a mistake…if only he hadn’t hired Moira. If he hadn’t let himself go blind to what was truly important. 

Power was not the most important thing in the world, and yet the one thing that was had walked away. The worst part was thinking that you might have walked away forever, and he knew that it was one thing he would never be able to handle. As long as he had you in his life, life was worth living and fighting for.

Gabriel would make this right somehow, and remind you that you could trust him. Remind you how much he loved you.

[thedarkelegance]

The Floating Head

****A creepy narrative poem just for you*****

By Jules Haigler

THE FLOATING HEAD

There it sat and rested, a dead head inside a jar. 

So sweet and so bested, to the envy of all afar. 

I knew not her name or the buyer you see, 

just some money under the table and in the mail I did greet,

 the ode to my perfection, my collection was now complete.

Quite a bunch of oddities I beheld in my home. 

It stacked so high and so wide, I barely had room to roam. 

But oh, did I hide, these many treasures of least desire

 to grace my halls and hang from my walls on wires of crooked nails and failing spires. 

Should one dare to enter, I dare not think thoughts, 

of what they might say or react to my horrid lots. 

Would they become deplore and run fleeting out the door, 

never to hear from them again, never ever more? 

Well, forget them, those wasted friends, so shallow and filled with strife,

 to not understand or even pretend the grand illusion that is my life.

Now I have me a friend, one who will always contend, and listen to me when I speak, be so humble and so meek. 

This head, this floating head, in some liquid long since bled. A welcome addition to my ambition, 

                               this head, this floating head.

Carefully I carried it beyond the thresholds of my many rooms. 

To find the perfect place for it amongst the clutter, the utter volume of my gloom.

 Then finally I find, no place better in mind, than on the shelf across from my bed, 

                              so sit the jar, so sit the head.

In yellow light it bathed a radiant dome of clear glass, 

underwent a tantalizing transformation as it danced on top the bodiless lass.

The hair a speckled blonde, the cheeks a pickled peach, 

seemed to respond, to correspond with each syllable of my speech.  

“You're beautiful,” I whispered. My voice excited and low. 

I wanted to kiss her and let her know, that I would love her and treasure her so, till death do I part, till death do I go. 

But alas, she was just a floating head, no life in her closed eyes, just a fair and familiar maiden, who's face I'd come to idealize.

 I admit it seemed a tad bit strange as I stared into the jar, this warped face felt almost recognizable and extremely bizarre.

In some dankly dark elegance I discovered a faint smile. 

My face had not seen such a trick in a long long while. 

I pressed my lips to the jar and planted a little kiss. 

My unnamed maiden bobbed inside not far from my loving bliss. 

I was so happy, a feeling I could not convey, 

my delightfully disturbing madonna had made my dreary day.

Now it was time to sleep and drift off to my bed. 

I said goodnight, and sleep tight, to my prize, my floating head.

To dreams I fell, an enticement of the mind, led me, fed me to temptation and crime. 

At first it appeared a song, a tune of angelic beats, then like a thumping and a stamping, it changed to charging feet. 

My bed shook and lifted, in the darkness it shifted, as though a demon had scripted it to move on its own. 

I clinched my fists and wrapped the sheet around my wrists. I sat up and screamed, only to once again realize it was but a dream.

My chest it heaved, the sweat it grieved for it was hard to breathe due to those dreams I perceived.

I sat in a crouch looking all about, feeling something was there in the dark waiting to jump out.

But oh, it was nothing but my floating head, underneath the lamp light glowing instead. 

Like a nightlight of care, I breathed gently the air until I looked again and grew incredibly and suddenly grim. 

For this time I swore something was different than before. The frown it once held had now been replaced, 

                                    as a faint smile grew calmly on its face.

I jumped from my bed and rushed to the head studying the smirk it had gently jerked. 

Yet when I arrived and moved up close, the face was unchanged. “Perhaps it's a ghost.” 

I whispered and wondered deeply to myself, as I watched anticipating anything from the head on the shelf. 

“Did I not see some wicked illusion? Or could the dark had created this unkind confusion?” 

I hurriedly glided back to my bed and in fear I lifted the covers over my head.

Again I sensed the remarkable sleep, pull me, tool me to my comfort, to my keep. 

I saw a maiden standing by the foot of my bed, yet in this dream she was lacking a head. 

The dress was white, a bride to be, her arms by her side, and on her finger a ring. 

Then formed a voice hard to understand, broke from the silence like the baa of a lamb.

“Can you hear me?” I heard it said. “I'm speaking to you from beyond the dead.

 You are near me. Fear me. Can you hear me talking, inside your head?”

I peeked past the safety of my covers, expecting to see this ghostly other. 

But nothing stood at the foot of my bed, 

                                 only sat the jar, only sat the head.

I glanced once more, at this grisly piece, and to my horror the mouth opened to show its teeth. 

I heard it scream, a fantastic cry, like the sound one makes when one dies. 

I twisted to the edge, fearful to leave my bed, as I watched the mouth close shut and grow silent this head. 

By now I could not rest, for it invaded my senses, this unwarranted guest who had left me defenseless.

“Why do you torment me?” I called out. “Are you alive, or dead, or a devil's scout?” 

The head remained still as though again it seemed, all an illusion, an intrusion in my dreams.

My sanity was dwindling; my insanity was kindling. Something within me was winning and it frightened me so.

“Back these thoughts, this wretched disease, release my mind, put me at ease!” 

I writhed and yanked and shook the sheets. I stuttered, I muttered, I kicked high with my feet. 

And each time I glanced across my bed, 

                        the eyes it blinked from the jar, from the head.

In a rage I leapt to the jar, ripping it from its place, flinging it far, swinging its tar, bashing and crashing across its face. 

Liquid splashed the walls and drenched my obsessions landing amongst the possessions, the transgressions of my past. 

The head rolled and it bumped till it came to a thump, at rump of my bed with the stump of its head.

I watched its eyes open and look about, fearing the head would suddenly shout.

 But instead it did glance, with its face in a trance, to the photo it lead just beneath my bed, locking its eyes, dead... on the spot.

I paused for a moment to catch my breath staring idly into the eyes of death.

With each tense muscle I moved to my mate, the floorboards bending breaking beneath my weight. 

As I bent down to see, what these dead eyes had intrusted to me. I saw them follow; I felt their sorrow pressing, resting on me heavily. 

So I lifted this photo and turned it in my hands. It was the one shred of guilt I had left in the land. 

And there I had forgotten and left it rotting, underneath my incursion, in a pitiful diversion, the unyielding perversion of my miserable soul. 

Torn from me so quick. No lies could have left my lips, but this trick, this dastardly wit as it fell from my grip.

It was a photo of my wife, so pristine on our wedding day, before I cared to end her life, for the money her insurance would pay. 

And so they say that love never dies, neither does anger, hate, or despise. 

This head, this dripping head, lying in a puddle just below my bed.

It was my bride, a victim of my pride, to come back to me in my twisted fantasy, a reminder of my misdeeds, the flower in my weeds.

Stuck to watch its face forevermore, 

its blinking madness, its stuttering sadness, to live on and shake me to my core.

 And there it remains, these remains, on the table by my bed, 

                                      so forever sits the jar, 

                                so forever sits the floating head.

[themillenniumscribe]

Yu-Gi-Oh: Brilliancy (38)

(Yep. I am a garbage human who does not update often. Personal reasons have kept me away as well as conventions and costumes. But, here is the next chapter to move the story along! Enjoy and I will do my best to get the next one done in an orderly fashion...after next weekend...if Irma doesn’t try to take North Carolina with her...because I will be there...

Anyhoo, enjoy the spectacle! :D)

Her name is Clarisa Swansea. She was born in Hong Kong to a wealthy yet loving family, a father, mother, and two older sisters. A competitive beast in women’s lacrosse with a pretty face to match, there was no mistaking that she was striving for greatness far beyond any expectations. But, when one accident took her family along with her mobility, her life took an intriguing turn into the world of chess.

Clarisa let out a heavy sigh of frustration. This was now the third time they had passed what looked like the same tree and dirt path combination. She desperately wanted to rant and rave about how poorly constructed this world seemed to be. However, with Kaiba’s already foul mood, she was reluctant to push any of his buttons.

“Damn! Where does this forest lead to?” It seemed that Clarisa wasn’t the only one who was frustrated, as Mokuba’s outburst seemed to indicate. Chewing on her tongue, she glanced over at the brunette, gauging his reaction.

“Damn you, Noah…” He cursed quietly. “Just you wait. I will escape from this ridiculous Virtual World and show you who’s boss…”

“The only thing I find ridiculous about this world is that a lot of the same scenery motifs have been used.” Clarisa piped up, blue eyes roving once more over the forest. “I have personally seen that tree at least half a dozen times.”

She pointed nonchalantly at one of the oak trees. Sure enough, the more the boys looked at the tree, the more they started to see similar details show up. Kaiba’s brow furrowed, azure eyes gazing at her curiously.

“You seem to have a keen eye for detail.” He murmured gently. She could have sworn she heard a pinch of admiration behind his words.

“Only when it comes to virtual displays.” She replied, shrugging her shoulders. “Daddy always liked to make sure his daughters were kept up to date on his technology. That includes knowing when things are going wrong.”

As if on cue, another door appeared. It was the same wooden structure and Clarisa couldn’t help but narrow her eyes at the familiar sight. Her mouth formed a hard line.

“You know, it’s like he’s never seen another kind of door….” She grumbled with a huff. Her displeasure was disregarded and the CEO immediately approached the door without hesitation. Though she was reluctant to trust the entryway, when Mokuba followed, she made her way through the wooden structure and into the dull room within.

Grey carpet covered the floor, given only a little bit of light from the massive wall of windows at the back of the office. The walls were just as dismal, barely registering color along with the mediocre wood stain. Everything was so monotone, glossed over with a hammered silver finish. As Clarisa studied the space, the more she felt the walls close in around her like some kind of prison cell.

“The…The President’s office of Kaiba Corporation…”

“Really?” She chimed in. “More like a bunker than an office.”

“You need something from me?” The chair at the back of the room spoke, the graveled voice ringing in their ears. All three of them froze, wondering for a second if they were the ones being addressed. Kaiba and Mokuba both looked surprised while Clarisa was struck dumb.

It wasn’t until the man turned around that the color drained from her face.

“Gozaburo…” She murmured, making Kaiba’s thoughts audible.

“Yes, I want to talk with you about the Virtual System I created.” Clarisa’s head snapped in Kaiba’s direction only to find the CEO hadn’t said anything at all. Instead, another image appeared, one of a younger Seto but older than the one she had seen previously.

He was taller and thinner, his flesh a little gaunt but still pink with youth. He was wearing a white uniform and black shoes, something Clarisa wasn’t used to seeing him in. In addition to his wardrobe change, his voice had undergone a transformation, the soothing bass timbre starting to appear.

“Your voice dropped quite early for a boy…”

“Shush!” Mokuba hissed, placing a finger to his mouth. Clarisa zipped her lips.

“I remember this…” Kaiba murmured, his tone almost gentle. “It was two years before I became the president…I was thirteen…”

Now this was intriguing to Clarisa. She had known that Kaiba was a young man when he took over Kaiba Corporation but she didn’t realize that he was that young. Her brow knitted together, lips pursing.

“I thought you were sixteen when you became Kaiba Corporation’s CEO…” Her head tilted to the side, studying the brunette carefully.

“He just turned sixteen when he took over…” Mokuba stated calmly. “He was about thirteen when this happened…”

“You were thirteen when you created the Solid Vision program?” Clarisa’s strong inquiry earned her a narrowing of the eyes from Kaiba. His shoulders tightened and his lips hardened.

“Yes,” He affirmed sternly. “Is that a concern?”

“Not so much a concern for you as it is for me.” She replied with a sigh, her hand rubbing the back of her neck. “God, what am I doing with my life?”

“Playing chess and hanging out with us?” Mokuba’s hazel eyes met her own and Clarisa felt inadequate.

“It sounds so much worse when you say it…” She mumbled solemnly, returning her attention to the young Seto and Gozaburo.

“If that is what you want then I have nothing to say to you.” The older man gruffed out, picking up several papers on his desk. His dark eyes skimmed over the details, his face remaining as stoic as ever.

“I’m busy, Seto.” He responded firmly. “Leave.”

“I invented that system so everyone could enjoy games!” The young Seto argued, a young fire burning in his eyes. “But, you wanted to use it for war!”

Clarisa registered Kaiba flinching at her side.

“You didn’t hear me.” Gozaburo’s voice was eerily sterile. “Get out.”

“This system is not a war tool!” Seto cried out, his hands clenching into fists. “I invented it for people to use in the future Kaiba Land!”

Papers flew at the young Seto, striking him in the face as Gozaburo got to his feet. Clarisa could see the rage building behind his dark eyes and his voice boomed in the room.

“I said get out!” He roared. “You are still fixated on this Kaiba Land? It’s all nonsense! Such ridiculous games have no use in this world!”

Clarisa felt her heart sink in her chest and a fire settled there. She didn’t like what she was seeing. Not one bit.

“Listen very carefully, Seto!” Gozaburo’s yelling turned into a seething command. “The Kaiba family makes things that are of great use to mankind around the world! My objective is to dominate the world with my military business and I will start by the Virtual System you developed to reproduce the territory of the world so I can sell it to train soldiers.”

There was a steely wash that flashed over the man’s eyes and Clarisa watched as the young Seto’s face filled with a silent horror.

“You’re wrong! You can’t!” He put up a defiant front but it was in vain when security escorted him out. Clarisa watched the boy kick and scream, even addressing Gozaburo as his father a few times. She figured it was one of the last times he ever addressed Gozaburo as such.

The scene ended with a white out, pixels dancing around and the forest surrounded them once again. Clarisa must have been more disappointed than she thought because she actually made an audible groan when the scene took shape.

“Really!?” She exclaimed to the sky. “Forest again?!”

Silence answered her and she took a few breaths to calm herself. In the meantime, she eyed the two brothers carefully, noticing the concern on Mokuba’s face and the tension in Kaiba’s body. To her surprise, she noticed that his lips were pulled back in on themselves, pressing together as though to hold back something that was on his mind.

“He was willing to let countless people die in wars using my Virtual Software…” He whispered harshly. “Just so he could make a profit.”

His arms crossed over his chest, eyes averting to the ground.

“I couldn’t hand it over to that evil man. On that day, I lost all my respect for him and I made up my mind that Kaiba Corporation would belong to me.”

“So, what changed?”

Clarisa was alarmed when she saw the shock on Kaiba’s face. His eyes were wild, burning with an incredible ferocity at her challenging his narrative. Though she could feel the anxiety of a fight coming on, Clarisa didn’t back down and held her head high when she met his glare.

“What do you mean, Risa?” Mokuba asked tentatively. She could hear a sense of guilt behind his tone. Her eyes flicked his direction to register his question but all of her focus was on Kaiba.

“That boy I just saw was so full of life and light. He had a sense of hope in his ambition to make the world a better place. He believed in doing things for those who are less privileged and to fight for a dream that is inherently good. Nothing like the man I see now.” Her eyes narrowed on Kaiba, giving him a once over. His expression didn’t waver.

“I ask you again,” She inquired carefully. “What changed?”

She mostly expected Kaiba to shut her out again, give her a stony stare that commanded her to shut her trap with one angry glower. However, the longer they maintained eye contact, the more variety of emotions she began to catch in his eyes.

There was anger, of course, but where it was directed, Clarisa wasn’t sure. Mostly at her for sure, however, something told her it was also aimed at himself. Guilt was also present, buried deep but still visible to her eyes. The rest was a mixture of surprise and panic wrapped vainly in a blanket of half hearted stoicism.

“Gozaburo said that games were meaningless to the world. They served no purpose and were a waste of time.” Kaiba’s voice was low, softer than usual. A part of it felt like a confession that Clarisa wasn’t meant to hear.

“What he didn’t know was that we had been playing a game the whole time…and that was his downfall.”

“But, that doesn’t explain what changed if you were the one that made the game.” A flash of bitterness washed over his eyes as he flinched. His silence didn’t give her the answer but it slowly came to her as the world around them began to fade once more into pixels.

Kaiba may have made the game but Clarisa was about to find out who made the rules.