#polish aunts scare me

[izel-scribbles]

scurrying away from the family function to hide in my lair and make my dastardly little creations

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom. (TW: domestic violence)

Building Walls

Both had been scared as boys. John of the dark, Sherlock of the light. 

John’s vivid imagination made up monsters under the bed and kidnappers in the woods around the tent when the Watsons went camping. 

“Fear is a weakness,” John’s father growled when his son was shaking and sobbing, terrified of the horrors of the darkness around him.

The solution was to beat the fear out of John while using spite words like coward, squeamish, queer, faggot, weak.

It took some time before it worked. For every stroke from his father’s hand or belt, John’s protecting wall was reinforced with a new brick, until his father was satisfied, and John’s fear had dissipated. So it seemed anyway.

***

Sherlock was a night owl from an early age but was forced to live in the light where others could see his aberrant behaviour. His cousins, aunts and uncles all called him freak, queer, weak, abnormal.

He just wanted to be left alone with his experiments, which he preferred to conduct in the dark hours.

“Fearing the light is a sickness,” his mother told him, and caught him in an iron grip before he could abscond and ordered him to sit in the conservatory with her and his cousins for hours.

When he finally was released, his head throbbed, his eyes stung, and he felt bone tired. He cried when he woke in the morning, realising that he’d been too exhausted to escape sleep.

“You must not let them see your weakness, brother mine,” Mycroft advised him, so Sherlock built a wall around himself and called it his Mind Palace.

***

In the dark Afghan desert, John met many soldiers who were afraid of what they could not see, and with good reason. He knew he should be terrified, and deep down he was, but he had a responsibility as a captain. His wall was strong and didn’t crack until a bullet came out of the velvet night and found his shoulder.

Back in the radiant city that was London, John’s wall crumbled. His mind was a dark hole even if he was surrounded by light.

“Nothing ever happens to me,” became a mantra he lived by, until he met Mike Stamford, and later Sherlock Holmes.

The brief and totally ridiculous encounter in the lab at Barts, lifted a vail, and a glimpse of sunshine entered John’s mind.

***

For years Sherlock lived in the blissful darkness, but people still interfered and made his life miserable. His mother and brother in particular. So, he sought out company that at first was a relief, but later put him on the path towards addiction and destruction.

Stumbling over Greg Lestrade’s crime scene, high as a kite, but still capable of observing and deducing what had happened, saved Sherlock’s life. For the first time in years, someone was interested in the knowledge he possessed; signs that a victim had been poisoned, different traces of mud or ash. 

“Get clean, and I’ll call you when we’re out of our depths,” Lestrade said.

Mycroft probably ensured Lestrade’s promotion after that, when Sherlock explained, and begged Mycroft to take him to rehab.

The incongruous scale Sherlock used to categorise the crimes Lestrade called him about, wasn’t all about how interesting a case was, but had more to do with the time of day. Only a serial killer could make Sherlock attend a crime scene in broad daylight. The darkness was his friend, and his dramatic persona thrived and added mystery to it all when he whirled around in his beloved Belstaff and polished Italian shoes.

John was like the sun and should frighten Sherlock with his warmth and incandescence. Instead, Sherlock felt an instant calmness fall over him when his fingers brushed John’s as he took the phone John offered him the day they met. 

***

John’s fear of the dark night vanished when he saw Sherlock together with Jeff Hope, and his hand was steady when he shot the awful cabbie.

Sherlock’s case scale suddenly changed, and he and John turned up at crime scenes at all hours, even when the sun shone bright and clear.

The only fear they had left, was losing each other.

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

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @helloliriels

@raina-at @meetinginsamarra @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitch-adler @topsyturvy-turtely

@jolieblack @peanitbear @phoenix27884 @bs2sjh @brandiwein1982

@meandhisjohn @a-victorian-girl @221beloved @ninasnakie @shy-bi-inlovewithregandmoony

(Tell me if you want to be added or removed from the tags)

[kookies2000]

I am now working on chapters 3 to 5 of The Smile Behind the Crown (Digital Wonderland AU.) I did this to myself. I can't stop!!!!! I'm running on pure adrenaline here!!!! Take a sneak peek to chapters 4 - 5!!!! MY FAVORITE CHAPTERS SO FAR!!!!

@endomentendo you put this curse on me!!!

@it-came-from-an-orchard I have to tag her now on anything Wonderland related.

#########

Ann is a teen at a boarding school with her brother Randy and friend Chatter.

#########

If this boarding school was huge on the outside, the inside was even bigger. Glass ceiling in the lobby. The stained windows were as big as trees and created rays of multiple colors. The sunlight made everything inside sparkle like the stars at night. The floor looked polished and white like the moon above. And what caught her attention the most was the chandelier above all the students. Silver, white, and blue crystals. But that wasn't the reason it stood out. It was the ticking clock that hanged onto the middle of the chandelier. Swaying back and forth and rocking the chandelier with it. Creating a storm of ticking and clanking sounds in the lobby. It was oddly calming to hear it.

###########

"Oooooh! What's this?" Jax zoomed past her curtains and stuffed himself into her closet.

"Jax! You can't just wonder around so carelessly!" Ann ran to her closet and opened the door. Only to be greeted by a sight that almost made her laugh out loud.

"Your aunt really packed you....... this?" Jax had put on one of the dresses Susan gave her. The purple one with a turtle neck and ruffled sleeves. It looked oddly good on him when he walked out and twirled to the mirror. Giving a few poses as he checked himself out.

"Is there something wrong with it?" Ann had forgotten about her annoyance. Whenever she thought a smile was impossible for her, he found a way to bring it back. Just like when they were kids, he always found a way to make her smile in the darkest of days. Well, making the impossible possible was always his thing. She should know this by now.

##########

"Chesires are children's tales." The student slammed Randys book shut.

"We don't know that," Randy was annoyed by this kids rude talk. He stood up and roughly stuffed his book into his backpack, "Hundreds of years ago, the White Kingdom had sightings of unkown creatures who can disappear at will."

"Ooooooo, how interesting," the boy rolled his eyes and opened another book, "A disappearing creature! It's not like we haven't discovered hundreds of those already."

"Chesires are different! They have healing abilities, their saliva can heal!" Randy was ready to list the abilities.

"Ew." The boys face scrunched up in disgust.

"Evaporation, levitation, conjuring things, shape-shifting-" Before Randy can finish his list, the boy slammed his book shut. The loud noise echoed in the garden, causing many students to look their way. Randy sunk on his bench for a moment, looking up at the boy in shock.

"I...... don't...... want to hear....... anymore talk about chesires." The boy said firmly, his teeth grinding together from the anger he felt, "We are doing a project on creatures we've discovered in Wonderland, not made up creatures of the night from children's books. Parents only made them up to scare kids in behaving!"

#######

"They're real?" Turtles' face slowly opened up into a shocked one. Her mouth hung low in disbelief while Ryphbons' mouth formed the biggest smile you've ever seen. So wide it almost stretched out of her face.

"They're real!!!" Ryphbon cheered to the point where the glass windows shook. Ann just groaned in pain and threw herself back in bed. She threw her blanket over her head and tried to go back to sleep, hoping this was a dream from her being ill.

"Awe, what's wrong?" She heard Jax voice above her. She groaned again, her hot breath filling under the blankets, irritating her sore throat more, "I just thought I should meet your roommates and make myself welcome. Since we'll be seeing each other a lot in this fancy little school of yours."

#########

"Oh, for the love of......... who put footprints on the ceiling!?" The principle demanded in a voice that traveled across the school. She pointed straight up to reveal dark marks on the ceiling and chandelier, "I told you all, curfew is at 10pm! No one should be tap dancing around here at that hour!"

The principal looked around the crowd of students who were all looking at her in fear. Her eyes scanned every single one, trying to find the culprit. Until something registered in her mind.

"Where's Ann?"

As if on cue, they heard a loud yell coming from outside. Everyone looked out the window to the side where the bushes were planted. The scream came closer and closer, signaling the doll was coming in fast.

Soon, a loud shattering sound filled the air, and the doll crushed onto some students below. Causing them to moan in pain while she laughed. The principal and the students looked straight up to see she had come through the glass ceiling. Leaving a doll shaped hole with her plush body somehow.

"Well then....... now that Ann is here, let's start the assembly." The principal looked down at her papers and cleared her throat. Not even giving a second thought at Ann's tardiness.

##########

These are rough drafts. They may look different when officially released.

[uselesseaweedbrain]

Supercorptober - 11. Emerald

***************************

Emerald. The core of her home planet, her energy supply and the last thing she ever saw of her dying world. 

Until Lex Luthor found it and used it as a weapon against Kal, bringing Superman to his knees on national television.

The people closest to your heart are the ones most able to hurt you, Kara knew. But she didn’t know it applied to objects, too. 

She didn’t know how everything she had ever loved could suddenly turn into a weapon against her - her planet’s core, a torturous poison, her baby cousin, a grown-up stranger, her lovely aunt, a world conqueror, her noble parents, genocidal criminals, her adoptive sister, slayer of Astra. 

But for a while, things had settled and Kara had slipped into forgetful bliss.

And now- now Kara knew she was stupid to think the curse could have ever stopped.

***************************

“You’ve made Kryptonite?” No, not you, not you, too. Anyone but you.

“You will hand over the formula to the DEO, and destroy any remaining Kryptonite, and you will never make it again.”

Supergirl had overcome the Worldkillers, Lena had promised to tell her about any further Kryptonite synthesis, and the story had stopped there.

****************************

“J’onn? J’onn, this is Agent Danvers. I think we have a problem. Kara is not acting like herself. In the beginning, it was harmless, but she’s starting to scare me, and she won’t talk to me-“

“”

“Yes. Yes, okay, I’ll try to localise her and keep you posted.”

“”

“Thank you, J’onn.”

****************************

Kara landed on Lena’s L-Corp balcony late into the night, having ditched her comms and her usual suit to avoid Alex’s relentless tracking. 

She was dressed in a black fitted suit inherited from her aunt, her blond curls sharp against the dark material, the glowing red vein in her neck starkly visible in the dusk’s feeble light.

Lena heard a knock on her balcony’s door and her heartbeat sped up.

Supergirl. Her first reflex was to snark, but the hero looked different, less polished, more angular and threatening than Lena had ever seen her - truer to herself, Lena thought.

So Lena opted for the safe approach, rising from her leather chair in a smooth motion and opening the balcony door.

“Supergirl. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I would like to talk to you, Ms. Luthor. Privately. There are things that you need to know, things that I want to tell you, but I am being watched as we speak. So, if you would allow me-“

“You want to fly me.”

The black-clad hero nodded, and Lena’s face hardened.

“I don’t trust you, Supergirl. You have never treated me fairly, and I do not feel comfortable putting myself in your hands.”

The blonde’s lips pulled into an appreciative smile, and Lena felt shivers run down her spine.

“Very well. Then I assume you have secluded and protected spaces at your disposal?”

Lena acquiesced slowly, obscuring the windows of her office with a command muttered under her breath. The balcony’s door closed automatically, and Lena led the blonde outside her office, stepping into the corridor and pressing her hand against the wall three times.

Green light pulsed under the CEO’s fingers and a portion of the wall pivoted open, revealing a sizeable, empty room, without windows or furniture, the walls blank to the naked eye.

The walls closed behind them and Kara’s X-Ray vision was obscured completely.

Lead.

“This space is safe, Supergirl. You can speak freely - whatever you would like to say.”

The hero hummed, facing the CEO and standing straight. 

“Safe for whom?”, she wondered out loud, but Lena scoffed and Kara waved her hand dismissively.

“Forget it. I did not come here to fight.”

They were standing face to face, the lack of furniture depriving them the luxury of sitting down.

“Very well. The first thing you should know is that I was exposed to red Kryptonite.”

Lena’s eyes widened imperceptibly, her lips quickly pursing in distaste as her left eyebrow rose.

“So you came all this way to accuse me, is that it? Even for you, Supergirl, this seems extremely convoluted.”

The blonde chuckled. “This is not it, Ms. Luthor."

“Then, what is it? Has the DEO proved its incompetence again? Do you need a cure that they cannot provide?”

“Oh, no, I don’t need a cure. The symptoms are not physical - red Kryptonite affects brain chemistry and reduces inhibitions to a level close to zero. And I didn’t come to accuse you. I know exactly who the culprit is - a stupid man named Maxwell Lord.”

“Then, what did you come here for?”

“How interesting,” Kara mused, as she started slowly circling around the CEO.

“What is?” Lena inquired. 

“You don’t seem afraid of me at all.”

“This version of you is actually easier to deal with than your usual self-righteous self.” Lena admitted, and Kara’s laugh rung out in the empty space.

“Tell that to my sister.”

“You have a sister?”

“Lena, Lena, Lena. Are we still playing this game?”

“What game?”

“The game where you pretend you don’t know who I am, and where I pretend you’re not smart enough to have already figured it out.”

“I- I don’t know what you are talking about, Supergirl.”

“Really, now? I don’t blame you for not wanting to see - I treated you horribly, after all, but I think we both deserve some honesty. So, let’s start from the beginning, shall we?”

Kara stopped in front of Lena, executing a bow reminiscent of medieval times, and raised her head as she spoke. 

“I am Kara Zor-El, heir of the El family and last daughter of Krypton. On this planet, I am known as Kara Danvers or Supergirl - though both are but shallow facets of a role I was forced to play.”

Lena stood for a moment, her lips parted and her brow furrowed, her green eyes pensive and guarded.

“Why are you telling me this now? What do you want from me?”

“I want you to stop trying to protect Kara Danvers. I want you to stop being afraid around Supergirl. I want you to hold me accountable as both my selves. I want you to know me and I want you to have me.”

Lena shook her head. “This is the red Kryptonite talking. Supergirl would never say something like this, would never endanger or entrust her identity to a Luthor-“

“I am not them, nor am I simply the sum of the two. I don’t need to be protected - and I am done hiding from you.”

“How can I trust anything you’re saying? How can I trust that you’re not manipulating me again, telling me what I want to hear?”

“You can’t. You can't trust me, and, quite frankly, you shouldn't. But you can trust yourself. Trust your darkness, calling mine.”

Kara took one step closer. Lena didn’t move. 

“Your instincts when they tell you I won’t hurt you.” 

Kara took one more step, getting dangerously near.

“You can trust your gut when it feels more at ease with Kara Zor-El than it ever did with Supergirl.”

Kara raised one hand and caressed Lena’s cheek, swiping her thumb gently on Lena’s lower lip, leaving a trail of goosebumps and a galloping heart in her wake.

“Your lips when they beg for my touch.” 

Her hand slid down on Lena’s hips.

“Your skin shivering under my fingers.”

Her movements halted and her voice became a murmur. 

“You can trust how much you want this,” she whispered against Lena’s lips.

And Lena surrendered in a breath and a surge forward, her lips crashing against crimson steel, her hands roaming the leather clad shape with barely concealed hunger.

Red pulsed on Kara’s throat and Lena kissed it, following the ominous light up to the goddess’s jaw, nipping and biting at the invulnerable skin as Kara slowly sunk to her knees for her.

*********************************************

[kavehpilled]

aunt got me my favorite color nail polish but i fear i am too scared to put it on someone sedate me like a shivering chihuahua

[bluejay-flies]

This is probably going to come as a surprise to a lot of you, but I’ve decided to try half writing half drawing the next part. ( I was inspired by @loupy-mongoose do do this!)

Drawing everything has taken a serious toll on me, I enjoy it but I find myself getting burnt out after each part is finished. So we’ll just see how this goes! I might love it, I might hate it, we’ll just have to see.

Next

Previous

First

The small Mewtwo and the strange human sat and stared at the other in shock. Iris’s eyes flicked from the bright green ones of the human in front of her and the darker green of it’s Pokémon companion’s. Her body felt frozen, and she struggled to inhale the frosty air as her mind raced with a thousand thoughts. “O-oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!”

The stranger fumbled it’s words, mouth still agape at the strange Pokemon lying in front of it. Iris was still frozen on the ground, throat tight and chest heaving.

“I-”

WHEEZE-

“D-don’t-”

HGHHH-

Her words kept coming out half formed, and her chest convulsed in an attempt to get the oxygen she so desperately needed. A wave of terror crashed over her, sending her spiraling. She didn’t know what was happening- why was her body reacting like this? Her chest hurt, and despite the chilly weather her skin dripped with sweat.

The human was staring, staring right at her and she knew it was going to kill her, trap her, steal her away and never let her go. For a moment the world disappeared, and she was back in that room, that polished, cold room surrounded by white robed figures…

NO!!!

All of the fear, pain, and panic swirled together, condensing into a tight ball of terror in her chest that filled her body with only one need, a desperate need-

To escape

“AAAAAAAAAAA!!!!”

A scream burst out of her as the energy swirling within seemed to erupt out of her chest. With a final push of power, she teleported.

Iris opened her eyes.

She was surrounded by white, crystal leaves.

Her feet rested on a slick brown surface coated in ice, and she reflexively grabbed for something to hold onto. Her hands found the trunk and she clung to it.

She was in a tree, not too high above the ground but high enough to make her feel dizzy. She shut her eyes tight, taking a moment to let herself feel the relief of escape.

“…are you ok up there?”

She froze.

The voice came again.

“I’m sorry if I scared you. I just haven’t ever seen a Pokémon like you before, s-so I was a little startled.”

Crap. Crap crap crap.

She had teleported a mere 10 feet away, and was up in the high boughs of a tree easily in sight of the human.

“G-go away!”

“D-don’t h-hurt me!”

Iris choked out the words, voice and body shaking violently as she clung onto the trunk for support.

The human carefully stood up and brushed the snow off of its pants. It picked up it’s Pokémon and brushed the snow off of them, too.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I’d feel terrible if I did! Do you need help getting down?”

Iris hesitated.

She was still scared and shaking, but…

She was also a little curious. Sure, humans were bad, but she’d never actually talked with one before. The only stories she knew were what Aunt Mimi told her, and her memories were very fuzzy.

Auntie said humans were dangerous… but this one seemed different somehow. Less… scary.

Besides, it had promised not to hurt her. And promises were important to humans. At least, she thought so.

“N-no, I can get down ok…”

The human’s eyes widened.

“So you CAN talk… I thought I was imagining it before!”

Slipping and sliding, the little Mewtwo half climbed, half fell down the tree, landing with a thump on the snowy white ground. The two surveyed each other, taking a moment to assess the situation. Iris clenched her teeth to stop them from chattering, hands stiff by her side to keep them still. Calm. DOWN.

She took a couple of deep breaths before returning the human’s gaze.

The human was rather short, about half the height of her Dad (she felt a pang of sorrow at that, but it had a thicker build with broader shoulders and waist.

Suddenly the human moved, walking closer with eyes wide with wonder. Iris jumped back, fur puffed up in surprise and fear. The human didn't seem to notice as it continued it’s thorough examination of her.

"If you don’t mind, can I ask what you are? You're like no Pokémon I’ve ever seen, and I've seen a bunch before!”

“U-uhm, I don’t… really feel ok with that…”

Iris stammered out hee response, still wary of this new presence. As curious as she was, she wasn’t about to give the human any reason to hurt her.

“That’s ok! You don’t need to answer if you don’t feel comfortable doing so.”

The human stuck out it’s hand in some strange gesture Iris didn’t know.

“I’m Rose! Nice to meet you.”

Iris stared at the hand for a moment before taking another cautious step back.

“Uh… Iris. Nice to… meet you too?”

Hope you guys enjoyed the change of pace!

Next

Previous

First

[erikiara80]

El, Sarah and Shirley Jane Temple

Becky and Terry's aunt Shirley thinks that their house is haunted (**) and when El meets Axel, he calls her Shirley Temple.

Axel: Aw... Shirley Temple lost her sister. So sad. [...] If I have to ask again, Shirley, you'll start losing things. Starting with those pretty little locks.

Shirley Temple's full name was Shirley Jane Temple, and when she was a kid, she was famous for her golden locks. El does have locks, she's been associated with blonde girls/sisters since S1, and the child Terry sees in the Rainbow Room is blonde. But she doesn't have locks. I know, I know, maybe it's not important. But I keep thinking that there is a girl with golden locks who "haunted" Hopper, like a ghost. A girl who is connected to the lab, Eleven and Will. Maybe, Shirley Temple is a subtle reference to her.

Sarah (or the actual Jane?)

"After Sarah, I saw her, too" (other references to ghosts)

I'm still working on this theory to see if it makes sense, but the connection between Hopper and Terry is undeniable. We still don't know the whole truth, and I think this scene is more relevant than we think.

Sarah died in the lab.

In 2x07, this bald man says to El "You're dead! We're all dead!"

There's also this graffiti: ICU. Someone said that it could be a hint that Vecna is spying El (I see you). And Shippingfangirl013 pointed out that it could also mean Intensive Care Unit.

It reminds me of the I see you -> but do you see me? in the bathroom, in the scene of Chrissy's vision (of her mother), and the hand with nail polish, similar to the mysterious hand El sees in her memory.

One of the guards in Terry's memory resembles Hopper, and Becky resembles Diane. This seems intentional.

Becky says twice, with a smirk, that Hopper and Terry would've gotten along.

There are octagon tables in Terry's and Hopper's houses, and we see them when Becky is talking about MK Ultra and LSD, and when Hopper has just woken up after being drugged and is searching the house for microphones.

Octagons on Jane's blanket

The octagon fountain

This octagon in the russian prison. Joyce says that she lost Hopper for eight months, and in 2x04 Flo tells Hopper that Joyce called him eight times.

So, Hopper and Terry are both connected to number 8. Kali, who has the power to make people see or not see what she chooses. Basically, what drugs and mind control do. ("LSD mind control experiments -Powell in 1x03. "Elaborate experimentations in perusal of mind control" - newspaper article in 1x08) There's clearly something wrong, because Hopper never mentioned that Sarah died in the lab, but in S3 he says that he came back to Hawkins after her death, because he was running away from those sad memories. That proves that he doesn't know that Sarah died in Hawkins. He forgot (was drugged)

Kali mentions El's policeman a few times, she interrupts and scares El when she's listening to Hopper's message, and S2 literally starts with Kali being chased by the police.

It's also interesting that it's Hopper who mentions the lab turning parents' brains into mush, in the season in which the agents drug him and threat to kill him and make it look like overdose. Cigarettes are another big hint that Hopper and, imo, Joyce have been drugged. Almost every time we see someone with a cigarette, the scene is connected to Hopper, Joyce and their kids, the lab or Billy, the "new Will". I'm thinking about one scene in particular, I'll make a post about it.

Anyway, there are other hints at Hopper and Terry's connection. The clowns and the elephant in Jane's crib, and the clowns and elephants on Sarah's pajamas (and Will was afraid of clowns)

The russian elephant gas masks we see in 3x01, after the keys activate the Machine. At the end of the season, Hopper and Joyce take the keys.

Elephant Ears behind them, when they're looking for their children.

And the Elephant, the torture device the Russian use on Hopper.

This post is already long, but there are also mentions of coffee, donuts and police chases on Terry's TV and in her message, when she changes the channels. And mentions of kids' breathing that are always about Sarah, Will and El.

(**) Speaking of aunts, I'm also thinking about Joyce's crazy aunt, Darlene, and this weird line, when Becky asks Hopper and Joyce if they want to talk to her sister, and Hopper says: "If Terry Ives is your sister, then yeah, we do".

Why the if? Are they implying that Becky is not really Terry's sister? What does it mean? So much to think about!

[fanficwritinggirl]

My Montana (Cole Walter Fanfic)

Chapter 4 The visitor

"So Josie, how have you been?" the older woman sat across from her, pen in hand, book in lap. It takes a minute to reply, her nail polish becoming all of a sudden interesting.

"I've been good. You know, just been busy with school and all," her eyes don't meet the women, keeping her focus on picking the nail polish off.

"I'm assuming that's why it has been a few weeks since you have come for a session," the question is simple, all she had to do was say, and she was for some reason finding that hard to say. Her head moves up and down and she looks up and gives the woman a small smile before looking down again.

"Has there been something bothering you?" she shakes her head. The woman leans back in her chair and sighs.

"Josie, you have been coming to see me for years. You know that you can talk to me," Josie bites her lips and takes a deep breath.

"Is it normal to still have them? The nightmares. Because it has been 8 years and I am still waking up from them, multiple times a week. When does it stop? How do I make them stop?" her voice cracks and she bites down on her tongue to stop the tears threatening her eyes. The older woman looks at her, her eyebrows frowned together and she sighs.

"Everyone deals with trauma differently Josie. Some people never get over it, it's something that they always have to deal with and it never seems to stop. There usually isn't much they can do. But there is only one thing that i have seen that work," Josie looks up at the woman and scoffs.

"And what's that?"

"Find what makes you happy, cling onto it. Don't hold back on happiness because you are scared of losing it. Sometimes you have to embrace the fear in order to be happy."

Josie walks out of the building, covering her head with her jacket as the rain pours down on her. Sprinting across the car park, she flings open the door and catapults herself into the seat, slamming the door behind her. Hattie chuckles as she takes in her appearance.

"Bet you werent expecting that," she jokes, causing Hattie to shake her head.

"Definitely not what I needed," she buckles herself into the seat and leans her head back and sighs.

"So how was therapy?" Hattie asks slowly, not wanting to ask too much, she treads carefully. Josie shakes her head and lets out a breath before turning to her aunt.

"Exhausting, like it always is. You know" she turns fully in her seat and leans on the armrest in the middle. "I have been going to see June for 8 years, and just as i think i have her completely worked out, she goes and says some completely unexpected shit." Hattie chuckles.

"Sweetie, she is the therapist, she is meant to be figuring you out to help you, not the other way round," Hattie turns the key in the ignition, bringing the car to the lift and driving forward. Josie turns in her seat facing forward.

"I know, but it's fun. I mean we can't just focus on me all the time. I need to put my head somewhere else for a little bit when I'm with her," Hattie gives a soft hum in acknowledgement but keeping herself focused on the road.

"Do you feel better," Hattie asks her, letting her eyes fall to Josie for a split second. Josie shrugs.

"I mean... kinda. I don't know, she just said some stuff that I'm trying to make sense of."

"And what's that?"

"She suggested that I need to let myself be happy. Maybe being happy will help suppress the nightmares. Which dont get it," she turns her head and looks outside the car at the town as it passes by.

"And what aren't you understanding?" Hattie asks and Josie turns her eyebrows up.

"I mean, I am happy. I am doing okay in school. I have you, Danny, the rest of the boys. How can i not be happy," she expresses. Hattie purses her lips and nods.

"Yeah, I agree. But maybe, there is part of you that wants more. And it's okay if there is. There's nothing wrong with wanting more, even though some people make you feel like you are being selfish for wanting those things," Josie sighs, putting her hands on her forehead.

"I don't know. Sometimes I just wish that my head would let me get on with my life and stop tormenting me," she flops down in her seat a little and Hattie gives her a simple smile and nods her head.

"I know, it's hard. So how about I drop you home before I go back to work. You are not going to miss much if you take the day off of school. I know that Miss Jacobs will understand," Josie looks over at her aunt and allows her lips to curl up a little bit.

"Thank Aunt Hat."

Turns out agreeing to stay at home was the worst thing that she could have done. She sat leaning against her headboard, guitar placed in her lap as she strummed the strings quietly, trying to think about anything other than what June said. This is why she hates going to therapy, why she asked Aunt Hat to let her take a break from therapy for a while because everytime June would say something that would cause her to go into her head and start questioning her life.

Humming, she changes key and she plays the song gold rush by Taylor Swift, letting her eyes trail around her room as she mutters the lyrics. Her room was painted with an off white color, besides the wall behind her bed which was painted a burnt orange. A few posters of her favorite singers were on the wall next to the door. A white desk sat in the corner of the room, a mix of music sheets and homeworks littered it. Polaroids were strung up with fairy lights above it, polaroids of her and Danny, Aunt Hattie, the other walter boys, some taken back when she first came here, now slightly faded with the sun that beams into her room most day. Though that was not a problem today.

Sighing, she lets her fingers leave the guitar, slipping it off of her lap and next to the bed and sliding down the cushions until she was laying, pretty much flat on her back staring at the ceiling. Little, plastic stars decorated the ceiling, once upon a time they had the ability to glow in the dark but after being up there for so many years they have lost their magic. Josie remembers the day when her and Aunt Hat spent hours putting them on.

It was one of the first few weeks of her living there, she had woken up most mornings, screaming from the nightmares, remembering the blood. Aunt Hat would come in, taking her into her arms and consoling her as best she could but they kept happening, so that was when she started to see June. She suggested that they put something in her room that will help distract her, so that when she wakes up from nightmares that she could focus on them and hopefully it should help her realize that they were merely bad memories and that she was past that. And that's when the idea of the glow in the dark stars came about.

Aunt Hat had ordered them online and was like a kid and christmas the day they arrived, so excited to put them up with Josie. They spent most of the day putting them up and at night when it became dark, they both lay on her bed looking up as they lit the room, and Josie felt a sense of calm from them. After that the nightmares became less and less frequent, and though they didn't completely go away, they were not as big of a problem anymore. Until the last few months, where for some reason they were becoming worse and more frequent. Why? Josie didn't know.

Lying down, for what feels like forever, she feels her eyes start to flutter shut, sleep calling to her, her body starts to feel heavy, her muscles letting go of all of her problems. Sleep was just in her grasp when it was ripped away by the knocking on the door. Her muscles tense up again, her eyes now wide open, all calls of sleep silenced. Groaning, she lifts herself off of her bed and she stomps down the stairs, ready to tell off whoever it was who decided that they had the right to disturb her sleep.

Reaching the door, she takes the handle in her hand in a tight grip and rips it open coming face to face with the person on the other side of the door in a flash.

"What," she bites out, regretting the way she said it as soon as it leaves her lips. Cole stands on the other side of the door, his face changing to shock at her outburst. He puts his hands out to her in surrender, a smile playing on his lips.

"Wow, okay. Hey Montana. Lovely to see you on this fine day; well not really fine day," he says, a slight joking tone in his voice as he tries to lighten the situation. Josie, feeling horrible about her action, sighs and puts a hand on her head.

"I'm sorry Cole, I shouldn't have acted like that. I was just surprised that anyone came around today," she apologized, looking him in the eyes. Cole puts his hands down and smirks at her.

"It's cool," Josie pulls her hand off of her head and crosses her arms around herself as his graze is on her.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at school?" she asks, confused. He puts his hands in the pockets of his jacket and shrugs at her.

"Nothing really important is happening there. Shouldn't you be at school?" he asks, his eyebrows raise a tiny bit.

"I had a migraine."

"You don't still have a migraine do you? I can get you something if you need," Cole asks, the smirk leaving his face, concern plasters his face. Josie can't help but blush at how quickly he became concerned for her. She offers him a smile and shakes her head.

"No, I'm fine , thank you. I just went back to sleep, woke up completely fine," Coles face relaxes, all of the concern leaving his body as he lets out a breath.

"That's good," he says nodding at her, his head leaning down a little avoiding her gaze. They stand there in silence for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say.

"Do you want to come in?" Josie says boldly. Cole lifts his head and his eyes meeting hers, his lips turn up.

"Yeah, I would love that," Josie opens the door and lets him walk past her and into the house. She closes the door and turns around and faces him as he looks around him, taking in everything.

"You know, i can't remember the last time i was in your house," he tells her, she chuckles.

"I think the last time you were in here was for my 12th birthday. You all came over and the house wasn't big enough for all of us, so Aunt Hat and Katherine agreed that they would host my birthday at your house from then on," Cole silently chuckles, remembering that day.

"I remember. You, me and Danny ended up sitting outside when we were eating the cake, wanting to get some peace and quiet from the rest of the kids," Josie giggles.

"It was chaotic."

"It's always chaotic with us. Some more than others."

"Not always," Josie says, Cole looks at her, shocked at her understanding what he was insinuating. One side of Josie's lip lifts up in a smile and Cole can feel himself warm up.

"It's pretty cold in here," he tells her, rubbing his hands up his arms. Josie grows and turns around, walking down the hall.

"I'll put the heat on," she calls to him as she pushes some of the buttons. Cole looks around the corner as she does it. Turning around, she sees Cole looking at her and she smiles walking towards him. "It'll take a bit for the house to heat up, so how about some hot chocolate?" And how could Cole turn down that offer?

[growling]

For all the (mostly american) mutuals that were curious about the realm of Poland and its strange and unusual inhabitants:

Polish soldiers/armed forces etc salute with two fingers instead of the whole hand. Apparently some cub scouts also do that??

Mushroom picking season is like REALLY big here. Like. It's big. Poles love mushroom picking. When I was a young boy my mother, aunt and grandparents would drop me off into the wilderness to pick boletes for 4 hours straight then get lost and have to navigate back into the car via utilizing the earth's magnetic field to determine our position which took like 1 more hour and then once we got back I had to physically recover from that shit for like an entire week. We got like at least 4 huge baskets mushrooms after that that lasted for at least a few months if they're preserved well however I do not like mushrooms so I never even ate them. Except for cultivated mushrooms these are fine the soup bangs actually

I thought this was normal in most countries but turns out it's just us and a few others in eastern/middle Europe: most movies in Poland use voice-over translation/lektor filmowy instead of dubbing/subtitles. Multiple va dubbing is reserved mostly for children's movies and those real popular but mostly younger audience marvel type movies or something, while the subtitle type of translation is pretty rare and I honestly never even seen it on tv.

A FUCKTON of roadside/wayside shrines just being there, especially in smaller towns. Sometimes theres also a single shrine in the middle of nowhere in some woods with no civilization in sight and you just don't question it

those fuckibg white storks

We still got blasphemy laws ("offending religious feelings"/"obraza uczuć religijnych") by the way. Yes you can actually get arrested and fined and get sentenced to months of restriction of freedom for being mean to jesus

Not removing your shoes upon entering someone's place is considered rude. I feel physical pain whenever someone doesn't do that. Take them off kurwa jebana jego mać stop staining my beautiful surfaces I am going to kill you

Unlike the horror stories I've been hearing about the USA in Poland you're allowed to be rude to customers at your job🥰🥰 You can just not smile if you want🥰🥰🥰🥰 its so funny seeing tourists get so confused and offended over that and half the time we're not even being mean just. Literally servicing you with a neutral facial expression and minimal required effort sfdysrsfjewdggs

Yeah uhh related to above point kind of, there still seems to be a few remnants of a culture of distrust. 30-40 years ago neighbors snitched on each other for subversion and people sometimes just disappeared (PRL times). Fun fact during PRL my dipshit mega absent dead paternal grandfather used to beat people on the street with sticks as a job or perhaps a recreational activity in order to get goodboy points from the police. or the secret police. No idea all we know is that he didn't do that for free. Growling family lore drop

National eating donuts/pączki day. National water fight day

As far as I know, USAmericans (and honestly other english-speaking countries too?) really like to regard people they know only a little as a "friend" like I noticed its really really easy to get called a friend in there. Poles on the other hand are very scared of the word "friend" they really avoid saying it nearly all the time you won't hear a pole just say that. Most people are not our friends. That title is special sacred and reserved for only the worthy ones who you actually genuinely know and trust for a minimum of 10 years. In order to be considered someone's friend in Poland you have to max out all their meters complete all of their quests and defeat their father at the end. Most poles only have like 2-3 true "friends" lmao we really don't throw around that term lightly

Carpet hanger jumpscare

The "polish cow song" people love to meme not knowing the language/lyrics is actually about drug addiction lmao. Sorry. Lol

We also got raccoon dogs here👍👍👍

[itsupermanti]

Pyrrha Rose-Arc #3; Innocent Curiousity

Pyrrha is seen eating some of Ruby’s chocolate chip cookies at the dining table, her 8 year old face filled with happiness and satisfaction as she takes each bite.

Pyrrha(as she continues eating her plate of fresh cookies): I get why Ruby loves these now, they’re amazing!

Pyrrha(taking a sip of chocolate milk): Especially with chocolate milk!

Jaune(looking at Pyrrha from his place in the living room, letting out a chuckle): You should really pace yourself sweetie.

Jaune(smirking as he goes back to polishing his sword): Unless you want to get a cavity.

Pyrrha(pouting as her mouth is full of chocolatey goodness): But ‘s sho good!

Ruby(sitting down next to Pyrrha, ruffling her daughter’s hair): Don’t worry dear, she’ll just brush her teeth again after she’s done.

Pyrrha(turning to her former friend turned mother): Is THAT why they never got any cavities from the sweets they ate?

Jaune(chuckling): She better if she wants to keep what few adult teeth she has so far.

Pyrrha turns to her old crush turned father, that’ll still take some getting used to, and sees him polishing a long sword with a black blade and glowing red lines.

Pyrrha(confused by the unfamiliar sword): I thought he used Crocea Mors?

Pyrrha(recalling how Ruby pulled out a weapon that wasn’t Crescent Rose when she destroyed THAT tree): And didn’t Ruby use a scythe?

Pyrrha(speaking up): Mama, Papa?

Jaune(pausing while sharpening the blade): Yes sweetie?

Pyrrha(looking at the sword in his hands): How did you two get your weapons?

Jaune lets out a chuckle as he stands up from his place on the couch, walks over to the fire place to retrieve an ornate black sheath, and makes his way to the table.

Jaune(taking a seat with his family): Remember that sword your grandparents gave you for your 8th birthday?

Pyrrha(remembering the small replica of Crocea Mors she used to stab her TV a few days ago): Yeah.

Jaune(smiling): That was a replica of how the Arc family blade used to look like, we called it “Crocea Mors”.

Jaune(placing his current sword and sheath on the table after Ruby moved the plate of cookies aside): After your mother and I managed to escape from the Ever After with your aunts, Crocea Mors was left with a shattered blade, and your mother was left haunted by all the friends we’d failed to save by that point, and she was scared at the idea of even using her old scythe, Crescent Rose.

Ruby(walking back to the table with her own sword and sheath): By the time I managed to get over my personal trauma enough to use a weapon again, a few years had passed for me, so I was around the same age as your father when we first found him in the Ever After.

Pyrrha(checking her memories from her new life to understand what they were talking about): The Ever After, a world that seemingly exists outside our own, where time flows differently. Jaune was the last to fall, but when they found him, he was practically a full fledged adult.

Pyrrha(turning to Ruby as she places her own sword on the table): So Ruby must have gotten separated from them and had something similar happen to her…

Ruby(turning to Pyrrha): By the time we got out of that…place…Crescent Rose reminded me too much of my failures, but your father assured me that I shouldn’t let them hold me back.

Jaune(placing a hand on Ruby’s shoulder, allowing Pyrrha to see his wedding ring): And eventually, she did the same to me. And before long, we were in a proper relationship.

Ruby(placing a hand over Jaune’s, showing her own wedding ring): Everyone said that we’re already practically married, and a few weeks after we ended the war against Salem, we got engaged.

Pyrrha(thinking to herself): So that’s how they got to together, they helped each other through their guilt…

Pyrrha: And the weapons?

Jaune(smirking as he removes his hand from Ruby’s shoulders): They were the wedding gifts your mother made, she melted down what remained of Crocea Mors and Crescent Rose.

Ruby(smiling ruefully): Crescent Rose meant a lot to me, I used to consider him an extension of my soul, and I wanted to give your father something that would reflect how I also thought that about him.

Ruby(glancing at an old picture of Team Ruby): And how we’d be leaving the past behind us…

Jaune(waving at his sword): She used the materials to make me this, “Noire Mors”, the Black Death.

Ruby(pulling out her own sword): And “Rose Favonia”, the Rose of the Wind.

Jaune(as he lefts up his black sheath): Your mother wanted me to know that no matter where we were in the world.

Ruby(as she picks up her own sheath): No matter what trials we faced as Hunstmen and Hunteress, as husband and wife.

Jaune: We’d always have a piece of each other with us.

Ruby: We’d always face those trials…

Jaune+Ruby(pressing buttons on their sheaths to make them unfold into black shields with red and gold detailings and matching emblems of a rose surround by to crescent moons): Together, always…

Pyrrha simply stares at the matching shields in awe, before she asks another question.

Pyrrha(raising a brow): How long did it take for you two to actually get married?

Jaune(blushing along with Ruby): Well, we actually had to rush the wedding a bit…

Pyrrha(confused): Why?

Ruby(looking away while twiddling her fingers together): We had a…bun…in the oven…

Pyrrha(eyes widening): …

Jaune(concerned): Pyr?

Pyrrha(looking away with a blush): Forget I said anything!

The parents just awkwardly look at their blushing daughter before moving to put their weapons away.

Pyrrha(clutching her head as her parents leave the table): I DID NOT NEED TO KNOW THAT MY SECOND LIFE WAS CONCEIVED BEFORE THEY GOT MARRIED!!!

Author’s Note; Hope you all enjoy!

[evilbonehag]

My Sort of Polished Timeline for Norman Osborn’s Descent Into Madness, Mischief and other general Goblinness- All My Bullshit Beneath the Cut

GOBLIN: “WHO IS LIVING IN MY HOUSE?”

• “if you give them your everything, they will hate you for it” NORMAN OSBORN WHO GAVE EVERY PIECE OF HIMSELF- who tried to be everything, who tried to be a good son, a good husband, and in turn a good father but could not. Norman who gives too little too late- “please come sit with me, I know it’s late-“ “dad I have homework” Norman who tried and tried to love through distance (it was his father’s love) HOW ELSE CAN A FATHER LOVE (CAN A FATHER LOVE AT ALL?!)

• Repression. Try being severely mentally ill and a homosexual in the 70’s (HA! MONEY WON’T SAVE YOU!) You go out in drag in college and hope no one knows its Norman Fucking Osborn, son of that Connecticut Republican Senator who wants to increase military spending. You fuck your roommate in secret, you can’t tell him you love him because “Norman I never liked that Octavius boy, his parents are immigrants aren’t they-?” You’re just not that kind of guy. You’re experimenting, you’ll probably settle with a nice Catholic girl someday. You have a project to finish.

• Oscorp. You know nothing about money, about business- (You don’t need to honey, it’s Daddy’s dollar anyway!) You just want to show them- show them what visions of flight and fear filled your head as a child, scribbles on a notebook page brought to life in steel and chrome. The glider, the suit, the mask. (They’ll take your dreams if they can pay you for them- PEOPLE ARE DYING FOR IT NORMAN, THAT IS WHO PAYS FOR YOUR DREAMS OF FLIGHT)

Icarus falls.

• Octavius doesn’t believe in you anymore. Harry is three and you’re newly divorced. Dad won’t keep backing your company if you don’t have something to show for it. You work harder than you ever have in your life to get this shit to take off. (you don’t want this- Norman, NORMAN, you wanted to fly remember?)

• Harry is 16. Dad is long dead. Oscorp has become more than you ever hoped (more than you wanted). The military is applying pressure- you just want to succeed. You will get this to work if it kills y-

• CANON EVENT: GOBLIN SURFACES

• Spots in your memory. Harry seems fine. You don’t see him often. Who is that in the mirror?

• You have a wall of masks in your apartment. A very private joke- you always loved Halloween. Masks are important to you (You always loved to hide from the world, Norman) (FRIGHTENED CHILD) Someone is speaking to you again (a friend) Stromm? Emily? Otto? (No. Your oldest friend) You don’t see Harry anymore.

• When you were a child you saved all your money to buy the most terrifying Halloween mask you could find at the drugstore- green and evil looking, with yellow eyes. Your mother recalls that you wouldn’t take it off, “You scared me so badly, you cried and screamed if I tried to take it from you- I thought I’d get a call from the neighbors, you made it sound like I was hurting you, Norman” Kids in your class picked on you and you wanted to scare them for Halloween. Something about your mask made your feel safe. Your father took it and hid it from you after the holiday.

• You get kicked from Oscorp by your own fucking board of directors. Final nail in the coffin. (Give them everything and they will hate you anyway) WHERE IS HARRY?

• There’s a boy in a mask swinging around outside- saving New York, they say.

• You’re fine. Harry has a girlfriend now (She looks like her- she’ll hurt him she’ll hurt our boy) you like his friend Peter, his aunt is lovely. You almost all look like a family. (Harry is gone from you, you’re ruining everything, he knows you favor his friend, you FUCKED UP, your son is LEAVING) No. Wrong. Not gone-

• Spider-Man, hero of New York City We know exactly where Harry went.

(A FATHER’S LOVE IS A HARD LESSON LEARNED)

• Harry’s playing around- Harry’s run away, out past sundown- (then who’s the ghost of a boy walking around the apartment?) (NO, WHO IS THE BOY IN THE MASK WHO WILL NOT LISTEN?! A BOY WHO WEARS A MASK JUST LIKE HIS FATHER) He has to learn, we have to teach him what it means to GIVE AWAY EVERYTHING and for what? For a city, for a girl who will both break his heart?

• Break his heart and bring him home

We wear our masks to hide them from us and to hide us from them

• Harry is home. Harry is home and we did not see it. Who is Spider-Man?

• You find out you were wrong- maybe this friend, older than all the others is wrong- dangerous- We neglected our son- You neglected your son for a week chasing a delusional fantasy. Harry does not wear a mask like you do. (HARRY IS NOT A COWARD LIKE HIS FATHER) Harry cannot be Spider-Man. Harry lost his girl to Peter Parker and cried for his father alone, HIS FATHER WHO WAS NOT THERE

“I have to rectify certain inequities.”

• make it up to him now. Find Peter Parker.

FIND SPIDER-MAN

[dastanbladeswriter]

18. Souls Collide

Six months later, Matt was having lunch with his parents in their small kitchen. He had already polished off his plate of spaghetti, and as he settled back in his chair, he looked down at his hands on the white table.

Matt was dressed in gray sweats and a black hoodie. His parents, Monique and Basil, were sitting across from each other, still savoring their food. Monique wore a beige sweater and dark pants, while Basil had on a gray sweater and matching sweats. 

Matt looked lost in thought, and after sipping his water, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat.

«I'm moving out,» he announced, setting his glass down.

At Matt's words, Monique and Basil exchanged worried looks.

«Moving out? What are you talkin' about, Matt?» Basil asked, raising an eyebrow mid-bite.

«Uh, well... Martine and I decided to rent a little place nearby. We just need our own space,» Matt explained, leaning forward to sound more sure of himself.

Monique moved her plate aside, squinting at him.

«What do you mean you're moving in with Martine?» she snapped, glaring at him. «You're only twenty-five! You should focus on finding a better job first!»

Matt folded his arms and sighed, taking a moment to gather himself. After a second, he cracked his neck and answered.

«Martine and I have been together for a while now, and I love her. We're ready for this,» Matt said, meeting his mom's eyes.

«And how are you gonna support yourself with that dog-sitting gig?» Basil asked, raising his voice a bit.

Matt looked away, a little annoyed. Things hadn't been great between him and his dad lately, and Matt always felt like he didn't believe in him.

«Martine's workin' too; we'll make it work with our paychecks,» he shot back, his gaze now steady.

«Did you talk this over with Martine's parents?» Monique asked, tilting her head up.

«Yeah, they're cool with it,» Matt said, pressing his lips together.

«You're still gonna need to chip in here, though. Who do you think's payin' the rent on this place?» his dad replied, sounding annoyed.

«What?» Matt squinted.

«We can't keep up with the little welfare we're getting and without your share,» Basil said, keeping his head up and staring down at Matt, like he was trying to make him feel guilty.

«Yeah, Matt, you can't just leave,» Monique added, tilting her head.

Matt looked away from his parents again, visibly irritated.

«I've been giving you guys money for five years. I can't keep doing this till you're retired,» he said, raising his voice and looking at them both. «I gotta build my own life; that's my right!» he exclaimed, leaning forward a bit.

Stung by his words, Basil stiffened, got up, and took a few steps toward him.

«Your right?» he said, sneering. «Where's that written down?» he added, standing beside him.

Matt didn't know what to say. Things were heating up, but he'd sworn to himself he wouldn't let anything stop him—not even his dad.

«If you don't keep pitchin' in, you can forget about that inheritance I'll get when my aunt passes,» Basil threatened, his voice sharp.

Matt stood up, getting in his dad's face.

«Like I care. You can't keep me hostage,» he said, narrowing his eyes. «What've you done these past five years, huh?» he spat, raising his voice. «You haven't gotten a damn job! Always whining and trying to revive your dead online business, between beers and whiskey!» he shot back, his mouth open, teeth showing.

«How dare you?» his dad growled, grabbing a plate and chucking it at him.

The plate shattered near the fridge, but Matt barely flinched. Their dog, Jackie, started barking at the scene, but Matt picked her up and carried her to the other room, calming her down with a few pats. Then he walked back to the kitchen, stepping around the broken pieces.

«I'm not scared of gangsters, so I sure as hell ain't scared of you,» he said, his eyes cold.

«Then get out,» his mom replied with a nod.

«Yeah, and when things with Martine don't work out, don't you dare coming back here,» his dad added, heading to the door.

Matt stood still for a moment and narrowed his gaze, then he walked to his room, grabbed his packed bags, and knelt one last time to pet Jackie.

«Take care of yourself, Jackie,» he said, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

Jackie seemed to get what Matt was saying, giving his hand a soft lick. Then he walked out of his room and headed for the open door, where his dad stood, still fuming. Right before he crossed the threshold, Matt slowly turned back to him.

«I'm gonna be a better father than you ever were,» he said in a low voice. «Marijan and Cyrus have done more for me than you ever did,» he added, eyes cold.

«Get lost, traitor. Don't ever come back,» his dad sneered, shoving him with an arm before slamming the door.

Matt held back his tears, wiping away the ones that slipped out with a handkerchief from his pocket. He walked to the park where he and Martine first met and found her waiting on the same bench. She was wearing a green blouse and jeans.

«What happened, Matt?» she asked, getting up and moving toward him, seeing the tears in his eyes.

He quickly wiped them away, trying to keep it together.

«They kicked me out,» he said, avoiding her gaze. «I knew it would end like this,» he went on, lips curling bitterly. «After everything I did for them, all the money I gave them, they just kicked me out. Those jerks!» he shouted, looking down.

Martine's eyes widened at his words; she knew things were rough with his parents but hadn't thought they'd go that far. She took his hands, trying to comfort him.

«I'm so sorry, Matt. But remember, you're here with me now, and you don't have to face this alone,» she said softly.

Matt finally looked up at her, his eyes still a bit teary.

«I know, Martine,» he started, looking at the bench and nodding a little. «I just feel like I failed,» he admitted, shaking his head. «I always thought one day I'd find a way to fix things with them. And now... I feel lost,» he said, wiping his eyes with his arm.

Martine stepped closer, cupping his cheek.

«You didn't fail, Matt,» she said, bringing her face close to his. «You tried your best, and they couldn't appreciate it,» she continued, looking past him at the trees. «It's not your fault.»

Matt took her hands and kissed them, closing his eyes. After a moment, he looked up at the sky.

«What now? We have our apartment, but everything feels so much harder than I expected.»

«Forget about them, Matt; focus on us now,» Martine said after taking a breath. «What's done is done.»

Matt nodded slowly and sighed. After all, there wasn't anything else he could do but look forward.

«You're right,» he replied with more conviction, shaking his head again. «Thank you, Martine. I don't know how I'd handle all this without you,» he continued, giving her a kiss.

«And you're my hero,» she replied after the kiss. «We've got a new life, and most importantly, we've got each other. That's what really matters.»

Matt closed his eyes, tilted his head, and kissed her forehead.

«I love you,» he said, wrapping his hands around her head.

«I love you too, Matt,» she replied, resting her head on his chest.

After grabbing their bags, Matt and Martine headed to their new apartment. They had decided to rent it right across from the park where they first met. They wanted every time they looked out the window to remember that moment. A casual moment, like fate brought them together.

Matt grabbed both bags and sprinted up the stairs, making it to the first floor first and waiting for Martine. When she showed up, she held out the key.

«We made it,» Matt said with a grin before sliding the key into the lock.

The door swung open, revealing the apartment they'd always dreamed of. They scored it thanks to a buddy of Lewis, who had some connections in real estate.

The living room was pretty spacious, with an open kitchen and light wood furniture. A staircase led up to a loft, which was going to be Matt and Martine's bedroom. Two big windows let in loads of light, and there were plants on the windowsill.

Matt climbed the steps to the bedroom and dropped the bags next to the queen bed. Then he headed back downstairs, feeling kinda wiped; his legs were heavy. The fight with his parents was still fresh in his mind, and it was already 11 PM.

He turned to Martine, who was chilling on the black couch in the living room. Matt walked over to her.

«I'm beat, babe. Think I'm gonna hit the hay. Can we sort everything out tomorrow?» he asked, rubbing his forehead.

«For sure, that's cool. I'm tired too,» Martine replied, tilting her head a bit.

Matt reached out to help her up. Martine took his hand, but he lifted her instead.

«What are you doing? Haha,» she laughed as Matt grinned, holding her tight.

«Let's inaugurate the bedroom like this,» Matt said as he started walking.

He took his sweet time climbing the stairs, and once he got to the top, he gently placed Martine on the bed. It was a classic queen bed, nice and roomy. The pillows were white, and the gray blanket had a heart pattern.

«You were wiped out, huh?» Martine asked, watching him put on his pajamas, almost teasing him with her gaze.

«I've drained the last of my energy, don't even try it,» her boyfriend joked as he climbed into bed and kissed her.

Martine pulled her tablet out of her bag and powered it on, typing in her Netflix username and password to keep watching Breaking Bad, the show they were rewatching for the second time. Matt, though, didn't even make it twenty minutes before he knocked out. He always crashed halfway through an episode.

Look at him, he's like a little angel, Martine thought, watching Matt as he was already snoring. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the forehead, but he didn't feel a thing. He was already deep in REM.

Suddenly, Matt found himself in a dark room; there wasn't much around him. It looked like an abandoned warehouse, reeking of blood. Then the dream started to clear up, and two figures began to take shape.

One was chained to a post, while the other sat across from him on a chair, arms crossed. The closer Matt got, the sharper the images became. There were bodies lying behind them, maybe dead bodies, but he couldn't make out any faces.

Wait... that's me, he thought as he neared the chained figure.

Then he turned his gaze to the blurred figure. He'd seen it before but couldn't fully remember. After a few more steps, the other's features started to become more defined. It was him. The same creature he had dreamed of years ago. When he was just a kid.

He had a bare chest and wore only dark jeans. His abs and pecs looked like steel, with veins popping beneath his dark skin. Spiked hair, dark skin, glowing copper scars, and most of all, those red eyes burning like fire.

«My powers... Gone...» the chained Matt muttered, clenching his fists.

Then he looked around until his gaze met his Doppelgänger's, who was grinning at him with a wicked smirk. His alter ego then got up from the chair and walked toward him slowly.

«How does it feel to be so powerless, Matt?» his Doppelgänger taunted, spreading his arms. «I think you know that feeling all too well, don't you?» he asked again, stopping right in front of his double and lifting his dark chin.

«Why all this? Why did we split? You said our bond would last forever,» asked the chained Matt, tilting his head forward.

Split? What the hell are they talking about?  thought the dreaming Matt, squinting his eyes.

He was close enough to hear them, but they didn't notice him. It felt like he was seeing the future. Actually, his other self looked older, maybe 28 or 30 years old.

«Nothing lasts forever, my dear,» the Doppelgänger answered, shrugging his dark shoulders. «Your fate wasn't to save this city; your fate is me. It always has been, Matt. And you're everything I hate,» he continued, narrowing his red eyes.

«You hate me? And why's that?» asked the chained Matt, blinking.

«It wasn't hate at first,» the Doppelgänger replied, turning to look out a broken window to his right. «But then I found out the truth,» he went on, turning back toward the chained Matt, making the crimson scars on his face and body glow. «My fate wasn't to help you fight the Cobras or the Spyders, but to become your greatest enemy,» he explained, crouching down in front of his double.

The two of them stared at each other for several seconds, the chained Matt's green-brown eyes locked onto the Doppelgänger's red ones. Then the chained Matt gritted his teeth, muscles straining.

«My... greatest enemy? You said we're the same person!» he exclaimed, leaning forward. «YOU SAID WE WERE ONE!» he yelled in his face.

The Doppelgänger smirked and stood up, turning around as he began walking through the warehouse. He stepped over the bodies scattered on the ground.

«True, but I'm the opposite of everything you are,» he shot back, shrugging. The dark entity then narrowed his red eyes, his mouth twisting into a sneer. «And so, I figured out that the more people you saved, the more you were loved, the more I had to take away from you,» he revealed, gesturing with his dark hands.

The chained Matt stayed silent, staring at the gray floor. His eyebrows furrowed, trying to make sense of it all, but it was no use.

«I'm the only one here who knows how to manipulate the darkness in your soul to get what I want!» the alter ego exclaimed, stepping closer to his counterpart.

What kind of madness is this?  thought the dreaming Matt, leaning in a bit to hear and understand better.

The chained Matt kept his eyes on his alter ego, and suddenly his face looked almost sad. Despair was creeping in, but then he remembered he couldn't let it end this way. He took a deep breath and tilted his head forward again.

The dreaming Matt then placed a hand on a wall, leaning against it.

Wait... he thought, watching the duo talk.

«So, the reason you ruined my life...» the chained Matt began to say, blinking. «Is it because you couldn't be me?» he asked, trying to stand up.

«I've become better than you!» yelled the Doppelgänger, stepping forward. «I'm the one thing you cannot stop, Matt,» he said, grabbing the chained Matt's chin and shoving him back.

The dreaming Matt woke up with a jolt, letting out a groan that woke Martine, who was sleeping beside him. He was leaning forward, eyes wide open, breathing heavily, his chest heaving like he'd just run a marathon.

«Babe, what happened?» asked Martine, touching his right arm.

«I... I don't know,» he replied, turning to her with a terrified look.

He swallowed hard, squinting a little, trying to remember, but he only felt that angst. He blinked harder, but it didn't help.

«All I know is... it was terrifying,» Matt managed to say, mouth slightly open.

«Calm down, it was just a nightmare,» Martine whispered, stroking his arm gently before lying back down.

Matt remained sat there a bit longer. He needed to figure out what it was about. There was something familiar about that nightmare, something he'd seen before. Then he looked back at Martine, who'd already fallen back asleep, and tried to shake off the unease. But just before lying back down, he got a flash, like lightning right before his eyes.

«Ah!» Matt gasped, bringing a hand up near his left eye.

It was the scarred face of his Doppelgänger, staring at him with his chin down and a wicked grin.

What could it all mean?

I wanna hear what you think about this chapter! Drop your thoughts in the comments—I'm here to chat and will respond to everyone! Every bit of feedback is welcome. 🙌

[rjmartin11]

Elvis & The Oracle

(One Shot)

Pairing: vampire!Elvis & black female!reader who's clairvoyant

Summary: A young oracle who lives in New York City bumps into the Vampire Elvis during a feeding, and later, she becomes his ultimate prey.

Word Count: 7.2K

Warnings: Vampire things such as fangs, blood, lust, and smut. Violence plus cussing. Speaks on sensitive subjects like seizures and anemia.

Material is not suitable for under 18 years of age. Viewer discretion is advised!

Author's Notes: So The Oracle is a story I wrote once about a clairvoyant girl named Thorne Malone, who could see the past, present, and future when she had skin to skin contact with people. She's not supposed to know love, but that changes for her. I'm polishing this story up a bit and putting it in New York City and adding the sexy Vampire Elvis! Thank you to @powerofelvis, @headfullofpresley , and @pianginferno for your beautiful Vampire Elvis tales. They are what got inspired to start this Headcannon turned to one shot.

P.S. this sucker is long! No punt intended. 😉😏

・┆✦ʚ🩸🩸ɞ✦ ┆・

The city buzzes like a hive with people walking and running in all directions. I enjoy the city at times it's so lively, but at times like this, I miss the country. The small town life. Less people, less of a chance that someone brushes against, and I see their life flash before my eyes.

The life of an oracle is miserable. If one person brushes against my skin with theirs, I'll see a lifetime of joys and pains. I feel as if I see more pains than joys most of the time, and it gets tedious. When I see things all at once, to someone who views me, it looks as though I'm have an episode or seizure.

As you can imagine, I was quite popular in high school... not!!! I wasn't allowed to have many friends. I got by with the two I had. Liv & Connie. My only friends. The only two that knew my secret other than my Aunt Theresa & Aunt Tara.

I'm the first in two generations to receive this gift. With great power comes great responsibility and consequences. My responsibility: See into the minds of others in hopes of saving them. One person at a time. My consequence: I can never know the love of another. I can know the love of family and friends, but I can never fall in love. I can never be intimate with someone.

I'm forced to be happy for the good people around me who get to be normal. I wish I knew how that felt. The touch of a lover. The embrace. His lips on mine.

This life's not fair for all, but it's the life I lead. I try to be happy for others and dismiss my jealousy. It's the right thing to do.

The Meeting:

Thank heavens that New Years was over! Less people around. Bumping into one another. The New York restaurants are always crowded during January and February. New Years & Valentine's Day. My least favorite holidays. People are all over the place. Thank God for long sleeves.

With Covid calming down, I can get away with gloves at work. I just need to change them every hour or two.

I was wondering home from work. Taking sides streets to my apartment. Less people. Sadly, more of the homeless. It's heartbreaking.

A week ago, a homeless lady touched my hand and asked for spare change. My black leather gloves weren't on my wrist, so I saw her life.

"She had a good life. A beautiful life. She was loved by her mother and father. She was a beauty queen. She fell in love with a good man, and they lived happily in their apartment in Manhattan. They never had children. He died sometime ago. Covid plus cancer. Hospital bills she couldn't afford on top of rent and was forced out on the streets."

I scared her but she tried to help me.

"Oh dear, are you okay? Do you need help?" She asked.

"No. I'm fine," I said, pulling up my glove. Shaking off her pain. I took out $40.00 bucks and placed it in her hands.

"I'm so sorry about James. Go get something to eat, please, and stay warm." I said to her and ran in the direction of my apartment.

I don't see her tonight. I do hope she got her meal. I just want to get home without any interactions. As I walk the ally, that's a block away from my building, I see these two guys fighting. One looks like an older homeless man, and the other looks like a young street thug.

"Hey, stop!" I yelled.

I caught the kids' attention, and he was frozen in place. The old homeless man grabbed his neck, growls, and bites the hell out of his throat. He kid is screaming, but the screams end abruptly.

I couldn't move. Fear and shock have me frozen in place. The homeless guy threw the kid's body down to the cement. Dead.

I try running, but...

"Stop where you are." His voice calls to me. I can't help but obey his deep voice. I can't move. Why can't I move?

He slowly approaches me like predators catching his prey. His eyes are an unholy blood red. Then it hits me. He's a vampire.

I can't speak. I can't scream for help. I start fearing for my life.

"You are beautiful." He says, looking me over.

I'm looking him in the eyes but can't answer.

"When someone gives you a compliment, the kind thing to do is reply, "Thank you." So let's try that again. You are beautiful."

"Thank you." You said involuntarily but calmingly.

"What's your name, baby?" He asks.

"Thorne."

"Every rose has its thorn, but you are a rose. Just so pretty."

"Thank you." I spoke once again.

Fear passes through me because I believe I'm about to die. I feel a tear trickle down my cheek.

They say life flashes before your eyes when you die, but if he touches me, I'll see the lifetime of horror he has done for God knows how long.

He places his hand on my chest between my breasts, touching my scarf. My extra protection. He moves my scarf, revealing my neck to him. He licks his lips, and I hear a rumbling growl within him.

"I bet you taste delicious." He says, quickly grabbing my neck and biting me.

I feel his teeth sinking into my neck, and his icy lips touch the skin of my neck. I gasp and see it all. A lifetime of pain.

From birth, he was striped away from a brother. A twin. He carries that pain with him still. His mother was taken from him. The pain of trusting someone that they betray you. The pain of a beautiful woman biting into his neck the way he's biting me now. Turning him into this monster. I see him ripping through dozens and dozens of girls. I hear them screaming out his name.

At the moment, I gain my voice back. "Elvis. Stop."

He looks at me, puzzled. I reach my hand up to touch his face.

With tearful eyes, beg him, "Please, don't kill me."

His face softens into a handsome young man. I try to catch my breath, but the next thing I see is black.

I feel fingers lightly brush against my face, and l see their past. A joyful past.

I see a little boy running to his mama. There's a smile on his face that could light up the world. I see a young man singing nervously, dancing his fears away. I see love surround him. Girls placing kisses all over his face as he places his kisses on them. Then I see... me? With him? I'm smiling, and he kisses me. The next vision, he's all over me in this passionate way.

The fingers leave my face, and I wake up in a bed. My breath caught, but my heart races. Beside me, lies Elvis. The Elvis Presley.

I jump out of the bed and stare at him. He's quite relaxed and reserved, laying on his side in the bed.

"What are you?" He asked me.

Taken aback, I shake myself to speak up. "What am I? Fuck you!"

"That sounds fun, but you haven't answered my question. You taste unlike anything I've tasted before. So sweet."

"I'm human."

"I tasted that along with you being animic. Which is why you fainted. Eat more greens and drink red wine. Which I have. Wine, that is."

He zips behind me. I feel the wind as he makes his way to the table to pour me a glass. I stumbled away, seeing him pouring a glass of wine.

"I don't want that. I just want to go home." I say backing up.

He approaches me slowly. Very much like earlier when he bit me.

"Please don't touch me!" I say, falling on the bed.

"Take the wine if you want to leave here in one piece, Thorne." He tells me, handing out the glass.

Reluctantly, I take the glass from him and take a slow sip.

"I've seen a lot of things in my lifetime, but not you," Elvis says, sitting in a chair. Staring at me.

"Are you a fairy? You're not a werewolf. Are you a witch? Nah, too pretty."

He plays the guessing game with me, and I remain silent, finishing off my wine.

"If you're going to kill me, kill me. Otherwise, let me go," I say.

"No, you're too valuable to kill. I find you intriguing."

We stare at one another for a moment. Not wanting to tell him about myself, I remain silent.

"So you really aren't going to tell me what you are, Thorne?"

I slowly shake my head no.

He pauses. "Okay then. You're free to go."

I hesitate at moving.

"Thorne, go before I change mind."

I find my shoes by the bed and quickly put them on my cold feet. I'm trying to keep my eye on him as I prepare to leave. I run for the door, and he's in front of me with my jacket, beanie, and scarf.

"It's cold out. You may want these."

I snatched them from him and then continued to run out the door.

"Bye, Thorne," he says in an echo tone.

As I make my way down the steps, I realize that I'm in a fancy hotel. He must have used his powers of persuasion to get himself a room here. How long was I out?

Entering the lobby, the receptionist speaks to me.

"Oh, hi, Miss. You're up. It's nice to see you wake. Your boyfriend had to carry you upstairs."

I paused.

"Well, we just broke up. Don't let his good looks fool you. Stay away from him." I said, making my way out the revolving door.

20 minutes later...

I finally made it home after a long ass day out. I didn't expect what happened to happen, but I'm grateful to be alive.

I locked my door tight. I know vampires need to be invited into a home, so I have no fear of that. After my shower, I found my old crucifix in my jewelry box and planned on wearing it more often.

I blessed my house with prayers. I feared I'd see Elvis' face in my dreams. That scary face with razor-sharp teeth and blood red eyes.

Instead, I decided to do some research instead. Google is a great friend in times of need. He popped up as soon as I put his name in the search engine.

Elvis Presley, born 1935, died 1977 or so, they think. There's a lot of useful information about him but a lot of nonsense. He sure was talented and dare I say handsome.

I've never really been a fan of his. Though his music is pretty good for the 50s. Hopefully, I'll never ever see him again. I just can't shake off that vision of... us. I have a nervous feeling that it wasn't our last time seeing one another.

Elvis' Point of View

Thorne was a mystery to me. Never in my life have I met a woman like her. I couldn't shake her image from my mind. Her magnetic chocolate eyes, sun-kissed skin, full pouty lips, and her voice.

I just have to know her. I couldn't shake the way she looked at me. The way she said my name. Like she knew. I followed her to her apartment via the New York rooftops. Makes sense why she was in that neighborhood. She lived a block away from where I picked her up.

She has the perfect apartment for observation. A partial glass roof. I have a great view of her kitchen and living room.

I saw her reading her Bible in a way of blessing the apartment from me. Sadly, one of the myths that's not all true about vampires. I have her blood in my system, which makes for easy access inside.

She played on her little computer for a while. I hear a familiar tune coming from it. She's looking me up? I get it, "Know thy enemy."

Only if she knew I didn't want to be an enemy. I want to be her everything. I want to take care of her. Protect her... love her.

After the song ended, she put her little computer away and lays on the sofa. Staring out the rooftop ceiling until she fell asleep.

For the next few weeks or so, I watched as she got dressed and went off to work.

I watched her walk the few blocks to a Harlem restaurant. Sometimes I stay a few hours and watch her work. She has a genuine kindness that I find refreshing. I noticed that she wore gloves a lot. She changed them a lot too.

I remember her begging me not to touch her. I noticed she was careful about touching others and cautious about others touching her. Was it because of Covid? Or was it a fear of germs?

One day, when Thorne went to work, I went inside her place to get a closer look at her home. One of the skylights of her glass roof opened, and I jumped inside. Her scent was all over the apartment.

I glanced over her album collection. She played them to unwind after her long day in the city. She has a unique taste in music. R&B seems to be a favorite.

I grew up on the original R&B. The new stuff is quite good, I must admit. Lauryn Hill is a favorite of mine now that I've heard her play. Thorne plays her a lot. There's a lot of different albums and C.D.s. Her collection is large.

I look around her kitchen. It's clean minus one to-go box. Her fridge is empty, except for the water bottles, some juice, and an almost empty cart of eggs.

I did notice her not eating a lot. Some food here and there. When does she eat? In the cabinets, some ramnem noodles. I went into her room to explore.

She has a nice size bed. That could be fun for later. Thorne likes to place her night clothes neatly on her bed. Her closet is neatly kept. Clothes hung up.

In the corner, she has a dresser where she puts all her casual clothes. Her panties. Her lace panties. I had to shut that drawer. I'll be dreaming about that later.

The next place I checked was her bathroom. Again, clean. But what woman isn't? In her shower, shea butter moisturizer products. That scent... oh boy.

The entire apartment was clear of men products. She never has gentleman callers knocking at her door, paying her late night visits. Nor girls. I don't get it. She's beautiful. Thorne could have any man she wanted.

I glanced at a photo album of hers. Photos of a Young Thorne running around in a little dress all smiles. Just pretty. A picture of her mama holding her from the caption at the bottom. I don't see any more with her with her mother.

There are pictures of her with her aunts. Several pictures of her with two friends from high school. Photo caption Connie and Liv. Pictures of them dancing at prom. The next picture had my blood run hot with jealousy. Thorne with a guy, and the picture captioned, "Me and Blake at Prom."

She doesn't have pictures of him around, so I'm guessing he's out of the picture. Literally.

Some hours pass by, and Thorne comes through the door with two other girls following behind her, laughing. I recognize them as Liv & Connie from her photo album.

"Thorne, seriously! You got to tell us about this guy. You bumped into!"

"Please. We know you can't be with a guy because of your gifts, but... maybe you should put your heart out there."

"And what would my aunties say?" Thorne protests.

"Thorne, they're not here. You're grown! You only live once!"

"Thanks, Connie. I needed that reminder of how I'm going to die old and alone," Thorne says.

"Stop! You won't die alone!" Liv says, grabbing her hand.

"Thorne, you have us." Connie says, grabbing her other hand.

"Friend, you have a great heart with love to give. You deserve happiness."

"And sex! Lot and lots of sex!" Liv interrupts.

The ladies all laugh together and pour themselves some wine.

They have pizza boxes, wings, and cupcakes. They set themselves up in the living room. Liv takes out a candle and puts it in one of the cupcakes, lighting it up and passing it to Thorne.

"Happy Birthday, Thorne." The ladies say together. "Make a wish!"

I watch on as Thorne takes the lit cupcake. Her skin glows in the little light of the candle. Her eyes are lively, and her smile illuminates the room. She closes her eyes for a moment to make a wish and blows out the candle in a single puff.

"What did you wish for?"

"Come on, Connie. She wished for that guy she met the other night," Liv teased.

I got a bit mad that they were talking about some guy. I could see Thorne blush at the thought. I hated that. Even if she looked cute with a light pink tint on her cheeks.

"Guys, nothing happened. I just... bumped into him, walking home."

"We want details!" Liv said, grabbing her glass and scooting in closer.

Thorne sighed and said:

"He told me I was beautiful, and I thanked. My iron got low, and I fainted while we spoke. You know how my anemia is sometimes. Anyway, when I woke up, I was in his bed."

"Ohhhhh!!!" They said simultaneously.

She's talking about me. About us and what happened the other night. Thorne rolls her eyes and continues with our story.

"We spoke for a little. He poured me a glass of red wine, and I left. But not before he presented me with my hat, jacket, and scarf. He's a gentleman."

"Well..." Liv asked. "What's his name?"

"Aaron. His name is Aaron Garon."

My middle name and my twin brother's middle name. Clever.

"That's cute. His name rhymes. Is he as cute as he sounds?"

"Yes." Thorne's picturing me in her minds' eye. "He has these intense blue eyes. I swear he put me under a spell. Jet black hair. Broad shoulders. Deep voice. He's tall. Pouty lips."

She grows quiet.

"Did you see anything, Thorne? When he touched you?"

"His childhood. His mama. His many, many girlfriends." Thorne sadly speaks.

"Oh, he's one of those guys." Connie says, slapping her hand across her face.

"It's fine. Besides, It wasn't going any further than that room. I..." Thorne pauses.

"It sucks being an all-powerful Oracle that can't get laid, doesn't it?" Liv teases.

An Oracle? She's an Oracle?

That's why she told me not to touch her. She saw things when I bit her.

"Darling Liv, I could get laid and loose my power."

"Would that be so bad? To be normal, Thorne?" Connie chimes in.

"According to my aunts, yes. It's a horrible thing to put my wants before others. I have a duty as an Oracle to help others."

I see tears wail up in her eyes, with the thought of the things she wants and can't have.

"Besides, you two can give me nieces and nephews. I can have those."

They all giggle at the thought of it all. They spend the rest of the night talking about work, hopes, possibilities, and dreams for the future.

Another hour or some, Liv & Connie say their goodbyes to Thorne. Expressing their love and how they'll speak soon.

Thorne walks them out, and they give each other a group hug.

Thorne shuts and locks the door.

She finishes cleaning up the party mess, takes a shower, and gets in her bed.

When I was positive that she was asleep, I made my way down the skylight and into the living room.

I make my way to Thorne's room, her door ajar.

I pushed it open lightly, and she was sleeping peacely.

I crept closer to her to get a better look at her. So beautiful. So peaceful.

I wanted to give her a birthday kiss. Just one kiss.

She would know that I was here if I touched her. She would wake up, and I can't have that.

I wanted to feel her skin on my lips. I wanted to taste her one more.

I settled for kissing the top of her head where her forehead and hairline met.

Her scent engulfed my lungs. I could hear her blood pumping through her veins it was intoxicating. Invigorating.

What I'd give for one more taste of her blood.

The blood of an oracle. Ancient blood of the seer. That's why she tasted different, delicious. Power truly swims in her veins.

I wanted to touch her. What did she see when I touched her?

Would she see my past? Everything? Would she see me singing or hurting people? Would she see Mama and Daddy? Or Jesse? Would she see how I want her? The things I want to do with her?

I risk it and slowly put my lips to her cheek.

She flenches but doesn't wake.

I kiss her again lightly. She whimpers.

"Oh, Elvis."

I moved away. Did she know I was here? Did she see me?

Then it hits me, she sees me in her mind's eye when I touch her.

The way she said my name was full of lust and wanting. The things I want from her.

I placed my bare hand on her chest, and she nearly levitated off the mattress

The sounds coming from her lips were obscene and sinful.

I feel her heart beating under my hand. It's racing.

She slips her hand underneath her panties and goes to town!

"Elvis! Oh... yes. Don't stop."

I wanted to join her. I wanted to feel her skin as it touched mine.

I wanted to relieve myself of all my passion I stored for her.

Instead, I remove my hand from her chest and speed out her bedroom door, and back up her living room skylight.

I remove myself from her block and find a safe place.

For I am a danger to the one I love The one I long for. But I will have her.

Thorne's Point of View

I awake from the most passionate, sexual dream I've ever had.

Granted, I've had dreams of Elvis since the first night he touched me, but this was the deepest vision I've ever felt.

It was so vivid.

My heart pounded.

I was covered in sweat and was spent on the passions of my vision.

I've never touched myself before. Though I've never even seen myself in a vision of this sort.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead and go in the bedroom to take another shower.

I can't have these feelings for him. Especially a vampire. All they bring is misery.

After my shower, I go in the kitchen and make myself a cup of coffee.

With only a few more hours before work, I decided to clean my apartment more.

Make the living room more tiddy.

Do the dirty dishes.

Wash, dry, and fold my laundry.

The more I clean, the clearer my mind becomes.

I finish everything in time for me to get dressed for work.

I enjoyed my walk this morning. The crisp air was what I needed.

No one even grazed my shoulder today.

I got to work and said my usual greetings.

All was well, or it seemed.

I made my way to my first table and greeted my customer.

His face was concealed behind the menu.

"Morning, sir, and welcome. Would you like a hot coffee to start your morning?"

He places his menu down and reveals himself.

My eyes grow wide, and my heart trimbles.

"Coffee sounds great."

"Isn't it too early for you to be out of your coffin, Elvis?"

He laughs this boisterous laugh and says, "That's a myth. I prefer beds, and the sunlight thing is a myth, too. At least for some of us."

"We don't have blood on the menu." I spoke low.

"Is that any way to speak to a paying customer? I hear your manager's a dick and I'd hate to get him involved because your customer service was terrible.

I shake off my nerves and pretend he's human for a moment.

"Yes, I apologize, sir. One hot cup of coffee, coming up. Would you like cream with that."

"No, I like it black."

I paused in shock once again.

He smirks. "I honestly like nothing in my coffee."

"O-okay. One moment, sir."

I go grab his coffee and head back to his table.

Placing the coffee cup down, I get this look from him. A look I can't read. I shake off the feeling.

"Are you ready to order, sir?"

"You mean you can't read my mind, Thorne?"

"No, sir, I'm not a psychic."

"No, but you're an oracle."

HE KNOWS! HOW COULD HE KNOW!

I'm left speechless.

"Don't worry, Thorne. I won't tell." He whispers.

"How?" I ask.

"That's a question for another time. Right now, it's breakfast time, and I'd like my bacon burnt and my eggs fried hard." He requests with a smile on his face.

I shake my head and go to the kitchen to place his order.

Ten to fifteen minutes later, I brought Elvis his burnt bacon and hard eggs. He thanked me and started eating.

I walked away and came back with the coffee pot to fill up his cup.

"Thank you, baby. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome, sir, and please don't call me baby. I'm not your baby."

"I'm sorry, Thorne. I meant no disrespect. You still sore at me for what happened a couple of weeks ago?"

I paused. I was still...sore. He bit me. I glanced at him.

"I'm a little late in saying this, but I'm sorry. And thank you, believe it or not, you saved my life. I haven't felt this great in a long time. Sincerely."

"Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?" I ask.

"No, ma'am. Thank you."

I rushed away to help some other guests.

The word "baby" rolling off his tongue and hitting my ear was like sugar.

I had to stay away from him.

Before he left, he slipped something in my hand and whispered in my ear.

"Thank you for your kindness. You're an amazing waitress."

He walked away and disappeared out the door.

I looked at my hand to see what he had given me.

Wow. He slipped me $200.00 dollars.

I slipped the money in my back pocket. The manager's a jerk that likes to take tips his own use.

We all hide our tips. If the customers leave the tips on the table, the manager will snatch them. If they tip us through a card, the manager will place that tip on the stores budget.

But never have I received a tip this big. Elvis placed it in my hand.

It's as if he knows my struggles.

I can buy myself some groceries tonight.

"Thorne, I need you to stay late and do the extra cleaning of the floor." Evil Ricky, the manager, says.

No forewarning. Just stay and work. I despise him.

Ten hours later, I'm wobbling out the door. With only a fifteen minute break and several customers from 6 am to 6 pm. Plus the extra cleaning until 7 pm, I'm beat.

I don't even have the strength to go get the groceries I need.

Too tired. Must get home.

I hear my bed calling my name.

As I walked home, I spotted three guys who looked like they were up to no good.

Literally a block away from my building.

I ignore a lot of things in fear that someone may touch me.

I don't stick around and ask questions.

The faster I walked the fast, the faster they walked behind me.

Oh God, please let me get to my apartment safely.

"Baby girl, slow down!" One yelled.

"We just wanna good time!"

They laughed and giggled.

As I walked towards one alleyway, I stranger walked in front of me.

"Aren't you tasty? Hmm?" He looked me up and down, licking his lips.

He reached out his hand to me and stepped back.

"Please, don't. I'm just trying to get home." I beseeched.

The boy behind me grabbed my wrist and saw:

His mother screamed at him to be better. Begging him to behave and to stay off the streets and away from thugs.

"Brandon." I screeched out. "Your mother's worried about you. She worries because she loves you. Go home."

"What the hell!" He dropped my wrist and backed away.

"Man, what the hell is she talking about?" The other one said.

Brandon stood there and shook his head in disbelief.

"Dean is just using you for his own selfish reasons. Brandon, just go home. You don't wanna do this." I cried.

Then I feel a hand hit me on the side of my head, and I fall to the pavement. The skin to skin contact was enough for me to see his fate.

"Shut up, bitch!"

I looked back up at my assaulter and delivered his message.

"Dean. You're gonna die tonight.

He backs himself away from me. I'm guessing feeling disillusioned.

"If you leave now, you'll live to see tomorrow." I tell him.

He hesitates. He wants something from me.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'm just a girl trying to get home. Dean. Go home."

He bows down to pick me up off the ground by my shirt.

He places me against the building. His hand connects with me neck, and I see.

"You broke your mother's heart. She wanted more for you, and you listened to the wrong man. He led you down this road of destruction." I screeched. "Dean, please!"

"Shut up!"

The next second, he's thrown against the walk.

His hand is released from my neck, and I can breathe again.

"What the fuck!"

"Where the hell did he come from?" *yells*

The guys are screaming in horror.

I don't see anything. I slump to the ground and hear the terror around me.

I hear growls and screams and running feet.

I'm dizzy, and everything is out of focus.

I see the light in the distance shining against the brick of building and something being tore apart.

I fall to the ground, completely hitting my head to the asphalt.

The screams and yells cease.

I see footprints of a dark figure come towards me, and then everything goes dark.

I awake in my bed, surrounded by complete comfort. An ice pack on my face from where I was hit.

How did I get here?

What happened to those guys?

If my visions were right, Brandon and Charles ran to safety.

Dean was dead.

I was saved thanks to...

"Elvis."

"Hey there. You feeling better?" He said, handing me a cup with steam coming out the top.

I hesitated, taking the cup from him. Giving Elvis the look like is it safe.

"It's coffee. It's safe, I promise."

I slowly take the cup from him and take a sip.

The coffee warmed me from the chill that seemed to loom over me.

I was still shaken from the hassle of thugs outside.

Yet, Elvis' presents brought a calm to me that I couldn't fully fathom. It was peaceful.

"May I sit?" He asks.

I nodded my head and sat beside me, looking me over to see if any real damage was done.

He brings his hand up to touch my face but stops short. He knows how much it hurts me to be touched.

Instead, Elvis takes my gloved hand and holds it.

There's no point to me being in love when an embrace could hurt me.

"Thank you for saving my life. And the coffee." I said, smiling at him.

"You're welcome."

"Were you following me?"

"You just thunk me now you're questioning my rescue?"

I gave him a "really" look.

He exhales and nods his head.

"Yes, Thorne. I was following ya."

"You know that's creepy, right?

Elvis raises his eyebrow,

"It's kinda what I do being a vampire and all."

I stare him directly in his eyes. At this point, I was over the mind games.

"How long, Elvis?"

"Honestly?"

"If you want my trust."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "For weeks now. Since the night we met."

"You've been in my apartment since, too, haven't you?

He shook his head.

"How did you get in here without an invitation?"

"That's a myth."

I turn to look in the mirror that's in my bathroom. I see our reflections. He turns to see me stare at him.

"And mirrors?"

"Myth."

"So, no one's safe?"

"You are. For the rest of your life, you are safe." Elvis whispers.

My heart skips a beat, and the memories of us start to play in my mind.

Elvis moves forward towards me, closing the space in between us. Not kissing me.

"Elvis, no. We can't. I can't."

He touches my covered arm.

"What would happen if I kissed you?"

"I may unintentionally sting you."

"Lucky for you, I like pain." Elvis snares.

"Elvis, no..."

He places his lips on mine, and I feel a slight shock of electricity go through us.

I don't feel the pain I feel when I'm touched by a hand or if an elbow grazes me.

This is quite delightful.

Not my first kiss, but I'm in awe.

I see... the future.

My future with Elvis.

We're walking down the street hand and gloved hand.

We're spending time together in the living room. Dancing and laughing.

I see us cuddling together on the sofa.

He whispers in my ears stories of times passed.

Him & I...

Together in bed, making love.

The feeling of him is comforting. No pain. I enjoy each kiss. Each embrace.

It's so weird being this close and completely comfortable.

He slowly moves away from me.

I slowly open my eyes and glaze upon him.

The pictures do not do him justice. He is breathtaking.

"You have the bluest eyes, I think I've ever seen." I tell.

He smirks. "Thank you. Your eyes aren't that brown. You have a little green there. Just gorgeous."

He kisses me again, but this time, it's more passionate. It's more like my visions I recently had.

I want this, but...

"I can't. Elvis, no, I can't." I say, pulling away from him.

"Why not."

"I can't because I'll lose my power."

"Would that be so bad?"

I shake my head and scoff. "Elvis, you sound like my friend." I scooted myself back in the bed.

"Connie?"

I widened my eyes. "How..."

"I was here for your little birthday party, and I heard what your girls were saying." Elvis explained himself.

I bowed my head, concealing my eyes from him. What does he know?

Elvis grabs my hand and I look up at him. His crystal blue hues entrap me in his gaze.

"Thorne, I know you were raised to never fall in love. I know you have a duty to help people, but it hurts you. A life without love is a lonely life to live."

"I have love. I have Connie and Liv. I have my aunts. I love myself and that's enough."

Elvis shakes his head. "What about being in love, Thorne? Don't you believe that you should be happy in love?"

"Elvis, you're talking about an erotic/sexual love of the flesh. My duties go beyond that."

"No, being in love is deeper than the flesh." He places our hands over his heart. "It's a soul connection. Being bonded within like the way I used to sing. The way you dance to Lauryn Hill. It's more to it. To life."

"Elvis..." I can't hold back my tears any longer. I knew he spoke the truth. "I want that life, but..."

"You can't. I've heard that already."

"Then why are you pushing me? What do I have that you want?"

"Everything."

"Why?"

"Because I love you, Thorne. I'm in love with you. I love your voice and the way you sing to your albums. I love the way you dance and how you work. Your smile lights up an entire room. Because of your gift you have to go without so much but you wear it well. You're a beautiful soul. A beautiful soul that would help an old man in need."

He refers to the night we met.

"You weren't really in need?"

"I had to be careful of what I consumed because of that Covid disease. I was starving. That punk would have truly hurt me. I was weak. You saved me, baby. Thank you."

All of a sudden, baby sounds better when there's a sentimental meaning behind it.

"When I bit you, I saw your soul. I see similar things like you do when I taste blood. It's like unlocking the mind. No pain. Well, for me, at least there's no pain."

"Can you back up to the part where you said you're in love me?"

"Thorne, let me show you." Elvis says, moving in for a kiss.

This kiss is loaded with passion, and it sends a thrill through me that I've never known before. I don't fight him. I allow him to take my body however he wants me.

He eases off my work blouse. I'm just realizing that I'm in my panties under the sheets. He took off pants? When did he have time?

Who cares? Quick and easy access to me. He stops for a moment, leaving me in my bra before him. He realizes that he must be careful with my skin.

At this moment, I don't care at all. I just want him. I take off my gloves and toss them to the side. Elvis slowly takes my hands and intertwines our fingers. I take a deep breath and allow this new sensation to take over me.

It's not painful, plus I see Elvis' current thoughts of us.

"Do it, Elvis." I say.

"Are you sure?"

"Don't make me wait."

Elvis does not hesitate. He climbs on top of me and slides his hand down my panties. The sensation of his touch was amazing, but nothing could prepare me for him touching my clit.

I took a deep breath, and oh my gosh! That feeling was incredible! I'm not supposed to feel this way.

"Elvis! I. Oh." I feel my heart rate speed up, and I try catch my breath.

"You're so wet, baby. You like this?" He seems so devilish.

"Yes." I breathe.

Elvis pulls the covers off of me, moving down my body he inserts his mouth on my clit. I feel shock and amazement come over my body.

"Oh, Elvis!" I cry out.

I felt goosebumps raise all over my body as he continued to lick my clit. My mind is flooded with thoughts of our unbridled passion. Elvis is unhinged, and I love it. I love each moment of this.

The next thing I know, Elvis bites my inner thigh while slipping his fingers into my wet pussy and I let out a screech. This mixture of pain and pleasure caused some sort of eruption within me.

"Elvis, fuck!!!" I holler out, tightening my thighs around him.

I look down at him to see him lick my blood away from my thigh.

I try to catch my breath.

Elvis stands on the floor and undresses completely. He's an Adonis, scrulped by hand. He's just so handsome. Beautiful even.

He lays on top of me, and I blush. He slides his fingers slowly up my body. The motion he slides them in tickles me. He stares into my eyes. Into my soul.

We're past the point of no return, yet I feel all his intentions with every touch.

"Are you ready for me?" Elvis whispers.

"Yes. Don't hurt me."

"Not my intention. I want to love you."

"Then make love to me, Elvis." I say, touching his face.

He widens my legs and fingers me once again. Preparing me for what's to come.

My heart beats uncontrollably.

Then he enters me as I inhale a deep breath. He practically takes me by surprise.

He rocks into me slowly. I feel him inside of me. I feel him inside my mind.

I cradle his head as he pushes and pulls himself in and out of me. It stings me, but I love the feeling of him.

I see a future... my future with him.

I see walks and talks and laughter. Adventures of travel. He shows me the world. I see us making love, and I feel him too. I feel my future pleasures, and they are all amazing!

Elvis is amazing. I see that he's the best friend that I ever have or will ever have.

Our souls have bonded within as he said. It physically hurts when we are separated from each other.

I love him. I really love him, and it's more than physical. It's mental and spiritual.

"Thorne. Your eyes are dark." He tells me, touching my face.

I close my minds eyes to him and wrap my legs around him.

"Elvis, don't stop. Keep going. I'm almost there! Please." I beseech him.

He continues to fuck me until we hit our peak of pleasure.

My breath catches, and I wrap myself around him. Elvis caresses me, and he's oh so warm.

"Thorne, look at me, baby." He asks, holding my face.

I open my eyes, and a tear trickles down my cheek. Oh, this feeling.

"Your eyes were completely black. What happened?" He asks.

"You saw my minds eye, Elvis. I was in a pleasure trance. I saw my future. That's never happened to me. No one should see too much of her or his future." I'm at a loss for words. I just stop speaking and lay my head on Elvis' shoulder.

"Is the future bright? For us?" He asks.

"Yes, it's illuminating." I cuddle him. "I love you, Elvis."

I look up at him, looking down at me. A smile dons his ethereal face.

"I knew you would." He kisses my lips. "Thorne, how do you feel?"

I'm guessing he was talking about my clairvoyance, and the truth is...

"I don't feel any different. I can touch you, and I don't feel that pain anymore. Just pleasure."

"Good." Elvis says, fully embracing me right now.

I wrap my arms around him and exhale. For this is my love. The love I never knew I needed. The love that I dreamed about. He's here. He's a vampire, and he's mine. It figures that I couldn't have a normal love because there's nothing normal about me.

"Elvis?" I say to him, moving out of bed with the sheet around me. I move to look out my window.

"What is it, Thorne?"

"I...I was read on vampires and how when they find a mate. They bond for life. Forever. Is that true or myth?"

I feel him close behind me, but he doesn't touch me. I feel the heat roll off his body. I feel him laugh lightly.

"Yes. I believe that's completely true." He whispers.

I turn to face him.

"You want to bond our souls for life, Elvis?"

"Yes, baby. I do." Elvis says, wrapping his arms around me.

"For the rest of my life?" I ask. I love Elvis, but I couldn't be a vampire. That's not the life I wanted for myself. I wanted Elvis, though. I wanted all of him. Everything he was.

"For as long as we both should live together."

I nod my head and wrap my arms around his shoulders. "Deal."

As I kissed his pouty lips, I see beautiful visions of our future. A future filled with love.

Taglist: @missmaywemeetagain @beeandheroddobsessions @headfullofpresley @everythingpresley @epforeverohyes @plasticfantasticl0ver @pianginferno @powerofeight @ab4eva @foreverdolly @searchingforgravity @thatbanditqueen @daffieapple @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @epsgirl @richardslady121 @literally-just-elvis-fics @thememphisflash1935-1977 @c-rosenn @iloveelvis @vintageshanny

[the-bar-sinister]

Lucifer Was an Angel As Well (57000 words) by VickytheSnake, thesavagesabretooth

Summary: A sheltered young artist with a tragic past finds herself caught in the web of dark affection by a beautiful and sinister murderer, and his carefree rockstar brother.

catch up here

September 05, 2028– 12:25 pm

 “...my Guardian Angel is my demon as well. Kristoph Gavin.” 

Pearl gasped, and her fingers covered her mouth. The moment seemed to hang in the air if in the wake of an explosion, or the ringing of a bell.

"Oh! Gosh!"

Vera shifted to sit on her bed and reached over to grab the bottle of nail polish she’d recently unpacked, as well as the letter held in her pocket “I’ve been writing back and forth with him for two years or so.”

"Two years, huh? That's almost right as soon as you woke up, right? Or… do you mean it started before that?" There wasn't any judgment in Pearl's voice, but there was curiosity, and she leaned closer with wide eyes.

Vera flushed, looking down with a quiet smile. The fact that Pearl wasn’t judging her; that was a good sign. She’d been so scared to open up to anyone, scared that Kristoph’s frightening reputation would lead to others taking action…in removing her say in the matter.

But it was like as Simon had said– her fear was keeping her from becoming a person in her own right.

“They started coming regularly after I woke up, only a month or so later.” she murmured quietly. “but he’d written me before that, though it was mostly details about the job. He visited me back when I was younger, and took off his mask to talk to me about the Gramarye show and give me my nail polish…but the letters really started after my coma.” 

"Gosh," Pearl repeated. "And he became your guardian angel? What's he like? I never got the chance to meet him."

Vera turned the bottle around in her fingers, feeling its smooth crystal against her skin. 

“He became my guardian angel. He’s…” she paused for a moment “breathtaking. He’s polite and kind…he writes like a poet, and speaks like an angel.”

Her smile grew wistful, lovesick…she hoped that Pearl hadn’t noticed “He’s been giving me advice since I woke up. What cosmetics are good to use, how to face the world, ways to come out of my shell. He’s wise, and helpful, and is happy to listen and respond when I tell him about things I like or the world around me.”

Her fingers tightened on the bottle. “but he’s also the devil…a demon with a warm smile. He can be calculating, he draws people into his orbit and holds them there…he poisoned multiple people, beat a man to death…but he did so to save others. He saved me from my father, yet he almost killed me.”

She chuckled quietly “he’s a contradiction…but he’s always watched out for me, and I’ll always call him my guardian angel. I’ll always hold him in my heart.” 

Pearl listened with rapt attention, her fingers covering her mouth as she watched Vera with wide, dark eyes.

"Wow…I never realized there'd be someone else who could relate."

Vera’s eyes widened and she looked up to Pearl with her best attempt at a smile “you too, Pearl??”

Vera hadn’t thought there’d be anyone else who could relate either…but suddenly Pearl had her whole attention. 

Pearl seemed to feel the spotlight on her, and went scarlet, covering her full face. She nodded embarrassedly, her short, fluffy hair bouncing around her ears.

"I guess you could say I had a guardian angel too– me and Mistress Maya."

Vera’s fingers went to her lips in surprise , her other hand clutching her nail polish to her chest.

“You and Mistress Maya have a guardian angel too?” She smiled behind her hand. “so you understand…who is it? Did your guardian angel try and kill you too?” 

"Not exactly," Pearl replied, biting her lip for a moment. "But he put a bunch of people in danger and he killed my aunt– Maya's mom. But it was to protect us."

“Wow…” Vera leaned forward with interest. The circumstances were only a little different– but to think one of her best friends also held a guardian angel close to her heart. Someone who would, and had, killed for her and her cousin Maya.

The Fey Family’s Guardian Angel…and Vera’s own.

“That’s amazing, Pearl…can I ask who it is?” 

She nodded embarrassedly. "Mr. Diego Armando. He only got out of jail a couple of months ago, and now he's working as a prosecutor again. So, I was kind of hoping…"

 Vera blinked.

“Oh! I’ve heard of him…Mr. Edgeworth mentioned him a few times now that he’s back in the field…” She trailed off, a smile on her face as she leaned on her hand. “You were hoping that you could be assigned to him? That’s my dream for my guardian angel too. He’s being allowed to work like Mr. Blackquill had been, and I want to be his detective. If you’re in the same position…maybe talking to Mr. Edgeworth can help?” 

"Oh wow!" Pearl grinned widely, finally uncovering her face, and putting her hands in her lap as she fidgeted. "I was hoping you know, but I figured that I just had to let things play out– do you really think you can get assigned to Mr. Kristoph?"

“I’ll put in a good word…” Vera smiled warmly, brushing her fingers over the ‘palm’ of the bottle’s hand. “Because I think you deserve to be assigned to your guardian angel, Pearl…and Miles is a kind man.”

She tilted her head to the side “...I don’t know for certain, but…but I really hope I can. I’ve asked Miles…and told him that I’d do anything to manage it. So I simply have to hope that I excel at the Academy and…and follow my heart.” 

"That's so romantic," Pearl cooed. "Gosh… thank you so much for telling me about this! I bet it's something a lot of people don't know about, right? At least, you seemed awful quiet about it before!"

“Only a few people,” she said with a shy smile. “Mr. Edgeworth found out by reading my angel’s mail– I had to confide in the court psychologist, Mr. Blackquill. Trucy, Klavier, and you. That’s all– I was scared. Scared that if I said something, someone would take him away from me.”

Pearl's smile brightened even further. "I'm so glad that you trusted me with it. I promise I won't tell anybody if you don't want me to."

Vera ducked her head. “Of course I trust you with it, Pearl– you’re one of my best friends. I– I know you’ll keep my secret, even if I’m trying not to be so secret with it anymore…” 

"You're not trying to be secret about it any more, huh?"

“Mr. Blackquill said…b-basically…that I shouldn’t be afraid. That if I play a role and hide my feelings, I’m more a tool than a person. So I should…make the effort…try to live how I want. And I know exactly what I want.”

Vera looked down at the letter in her hands. She knew more than anything what she wanted. It was a vortex for her thoughts, pulling them all down into the part of her that was still so devoted to her guardian angel.

She wanted to be his– his detective– just as she wanted to be part of his strange ‘family’ with Klavier.

She knew it’d disappoint people she cared about, but Mr. Blackquill was right. Nothing good ever came of pretending to be someone you weren’t. 

"Well, you know, that sounds like really good advice," Pearl said, running her fingers through her short hair. "I've kinda been trying to do the same, lately.

She hopped up and scrambled over to her, throwing her arms around her in a hug.

Vera squeaked, snapped out of the mire of her thoughts enough to hug Pearl back. 

“oh!! He’s a pretty smart guy when you get to know him…a little frightful though.” She gave Pearl a squeeze “but I can tell…you look great, Pearl. You look happier.” 

"Awww, thanks," Pearl smiled broadly as she squeezed her in return. "I hope that'll be the case for you too, soon. I think you already do."

Vera couldn’t help but smile as she held her friend tight. It was true…she already felt lighter. Far from the rotting old house that smelt of acetone and mold, filled with purpose as she set forth on a path she chose for herself …with new connections and old bolstering her along the way.

“And it’ll only get better from here…Detective Fey.” 

October 1, 2028– 6:40 pm

The first days of academy were the hardest, when Vera didn't know where she was going, or quite what was expected of her. She stumbled through those days in a haze of barely restrained panic. Too many new faces mingled with too few comforts to make a cocktail of anxiety that nearly drove the words straight out of her and into the mutism she’d struggled to keep under control.

It was difficult, especially with the sharp tongued drill instructor and the battery of tests and lessons, but it slowly got easier. With the support and commiseration of Pearl Fey, and the arrival of the first of Kristoph’s letters, she could remember what she was fighting for and push on. 

Pearl did her best to help, but it was clear that she was struggling, too. Still, they had each other, and even more so she had Kristoph's letters, which came regular as clockwork, and were deeply interested in how she was faring, and full of encouragement and advice about how to navigate the social realities of the school.

She could imagine him, some nights quite vividly, smiling at him with his angelic expression as he told her how to survive the rigors of the police academy…telling her that she could and would make it out the other side.

It was advice she shared with Pearl, and before she knew it, the routine began to set in. Like a magic trick, the days became easier. Her body got stronger in increments, the faces around her became a little less frightening. It never became easy– she and Pearl still faltered of course, but Vera found herself smiling more and more through every target practice and protocol test.

Her guardian was her main source of strength, but her brother, too, checked in on her every day. And by the time a month had gone by they had a long chat history on her phone. He'd taken to wishing her good night every night as a reminder of when to go to bed– and when he was late with them, she knew it was because he was out late, and had started partying early.

Every time a late text came, she would playfully chide her ‘big brother’ in the morning…and every time she asked him how the hangover was going. She missed him very much, and part of her wanted to be out there with him experiencing the overwhelming feeling of the club– but he inspired her to keep going. Every message was another morale boost to push her through another day. Her Guardian Angel, and her big brother looking out for her as she pushed forward.

At some point, she’d found the time and materials to try showing Pearl how to make a stuffed animal…something that had soon become a bit of a mistake when some of the other recruits found out. It had become a little bit of a business for her– mostly to cover the costs of materials and trips to the store, as well as the time spent not doing homework– and it was a point of pride how many of the police academy students, many of whom were big, tough young men– had commissioned a plushie from her.

This exchange had apparently put her guardian angel's mind at ease. Her potential bullying, and tactics to avoid it or cope with it, had been a common thread in his letters early in the month. But once she'd settled in and started spreading her little toys, his worry had eased. He'd congratulated her on managing such a feat.

She still felt proud when she put needle to fabric– the congratulations ringing in her head as she worked on the first art projects to make her happy in a long time. The concerns of bullying evaporated…and she even began making friends with people she’d have never even imagined meeting only two years before.

Friends, appreciation for her art, a best friend by her side…and the joy of her weekly letters and good night texts. In almost no time at all, the Police Academy had gone from a frightful, confusing nightmare to an experience she wanted to remember forever. 

She was in the middle of work on a plushie when she got a text from Klavier.

She set aside the plushie, poking the needle into a small cushion before reaching to her end table to flip it open and take a look. 

Hey fraulein! Hope you're having a good evening! I have some personal news.

Personal news– that probably meant it wasn't an update about Kristoph or anything like that.

She balanced herself against the wall behind her, knees drawn up as she texted back.

Good news I hope…thinking of coming to visit?

His reply came quickly.

I would love to. But only if I can see you tonight? I have to go out of the country suddenly.Her eyes widened as she read it

Absolutely, if you can! You’re really leaving the country? Is it for another one of those commercials?He’d shown her a little while back a commercial he filmed in Cauli at some point– complete with the story of a stolen guitar and a bunch of silly sounding investigation. 

No, it is on a rescue mission! If you're available, I'll pick you up and tell you in person.

Vera stared at the phone for a moment, her brow furrowing as she read that again.

Rescue mission, big brother? Alright. Alright. I’ll get ready, the academy’s out of session for the moment anyway. I can finish this plush later.

Pearl was out of the dorm at the moment so she quickly sketched out a little note for her in her pad.

‘Be back in a bit, Pearl! Klavier wants to talk to me, I’ll tell you all the gossip later’ she wrote, signing it with a little sketch of herself giving her a thumbs up. 

Klavier's reply came back. Meet you at the front in 15 minutes, liebling.She typed in return. I’ll be right out. Just have to change out of my uniform!

October 1, 2028– 6:55 pm

Klavier leaned across the seats to push the door of his lilac painted convertible open for Vera as she came out of the academy. The weather was still warm enough for him to have the top down.

Vera gave him a wave as she hurried over and hopped into the seat with a smile. She settled into the seat, and smoothed out the pale white shirt bearing the LAPD Academy’s logo , before zipping up her light coat.

When she finished, she looked over at him with a cheerful smile “...it’s good to actually see you, big brother.” 

He scooped his arm around her happily, and looked her over. "It's good to see you too, little sister! You look like you've grown a bit already, ja?"

He was in a familiar outfit, with a pair of sunglasses balanced on his head.

Vera had indeed grown– it’d been a month at the academy, training day in and day out. When she’d entered, she’d been frail, barely recovered from the poison two years before. But now after it all she’d gained a little more muscle definition– stamina, only a bit, but enough that it still surprised her. It surprised her even more that he noticed.

She flushed, nuzzling under his arm “A little bit. It’s all the pushups they’ve got me doing. Still pretty cute though.” 

"Very cute, fraulein, very cute! No amount of pushups is going to change that." He pulled away from the curb and merged into traffic. "It makes me aware of how long it's been since I've seen you in person, that's all. And right after I resolved to keep up, ja?"

She leaned more solidly against him, “It’s been a while…but I know you’ve been busy, and I’ve been basically working nonstop. Besides, you’ve been texting me every night!”

She didn’t blame him, she knew she was lucky enough to get this moment to slip away from her studies, her drill instructor, her new friends– all of them even for a little bit. Not to mention his own packed schedule.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t getting a little desperate for his physical company.

“Missed you though.."

"Missed you too, liebling," he said, smiling at her in the rearview as they pulled onto the freeway. Vera felt the wind whipping through her hair as they drove. "Hoping this trip won't be too long so I can come see you again soon."

She chuckled quietly as she tucked her hair away from her face.

“I’d like that…especially if you told me all about it. A shame you can’t take me with you…where are you going, anyway? You said a rescue mission right? That’s…” She looked for the right word before she settled on “alarming.” 

"It is alarming, isn't it?" he shook his head. "I'll be honest, I was pretty alarmed. You know how we haven't seen Apollo Justice in a few months, fraulein?"

He pulled her closer as he drove, his hand warm on her, and she could feel that he was a little tense.

Vera nodded quietly, resting her head against his shoulder with a catlike nuzzle. “...It’s true, I haven’t even heard from him in a while…I think the last time I saw him was for a movie night a while back..” 

"Apparently it's because he's been in Khura'in for four months! Apparently he's gone to live in the mountains and become a monk! Ha! what do you think of that, little sister?"

He pulled off the highway and cruised into the parking lot of a small ice cream shop, on one of the last open days of its season.

Vera stared at him for a moment, tilting her head up with a puzzled frown. 

“Mr…Mr. Justice became a monk? I…I can’t believe that. He’d be a terrible monk…he’s so emotional!”

The whole thing was so absurd, it had to have been a joke. Apollo Justice…he’d saved her back during her murder trial. With his booming , clear voice, he spoke out for someone so few had done for before and cleared her of suspicion in time for her to fight off the poison in her veins.

A man like that vanishing and becoming a monk boggled belief…especially without a word to anyone. “You’re joking around right, big brother?” 

"I am not joking around even a little, fraulein! Well, a monk may be a slight exaggeration. He's gone to become the only lawyer in a country of monks, as far as I have heard."

He parked the car and hopped out– offering her his hand to help her up.

Vera took his hand and slipped to her feet with a click of her short heels on the ground. 

“....the only lawyer in a country of mo—” She paused as the name finally sunk in. “wait…Khura’in…that’s the country that just had that massive revolution, right?” 

"Ja, fraulein, that's the one." He pulled her against his chest, and cupped her jaw with one hand. "Terrible, don't you think?"

Vera leaned against his chest. When she nodded, she felt the pleasant sensation of his fingertips against her jawline.

“Awful, big brother…what if he gets hurt, or worse? Is the revolution at least over?”

"That's one of many things I'm worried about, liebling," he said, leaning close and nuzzling his cheek on hers. "So I am going to bring him back."

She cherished the feeling of his cheek against hers, hugging him a little tighter. 

“please…I wish I could come, I really do…I miss him too, Klavier! I thought he..he had just gotten too busy to visit anymore.”

"I thought so too, liebling," he sighed. "or that he didn't want to see me, you know? Which I suppose still might be the case. But I don't care. I'm bringing him back, ja? I'd bring you with me if you didn't have school."

She nodded against his hand with a quiet sniffle. 

“Bad timing…if it’d been a few months ago, I coulda helped…but I’m too far into training to drop out now.” Her body pressed into his as she leaned up to meet his eyes. “so please make sure you bring him back safe and sound, big brother. I’ll train hard while you’re away…but please text when you can?” 

"Promise, liebling. Though I hear the place has notoriously bad reception. But I will make the most valiant effort."

He pulled her in the rest of the way, and pressed his lips to hers.

Vera kissed him fondly, standing on tip toes with her arms looped around his chest to part her lips in a passionate , warm kiss.

It would be sad to lose the nightly conversations…and to lose even the scant outings with him while he was gone…but…

She understood. Apollo Justice was someone dear to him, dear to her too in his own way, and he’d vanished to somewhere far, far away without a word. Someone had to go and make sure he was okay…to bring him home. 

He held her close as he kissed her, and stroked his fingers through her hair for a moment, as they stood near the car.

When he released her, he smiled. "Come on fraulein, I'll treat you to some ice cream and you can help me make a list of things to pack. I'd forget my own head if it wasn't attached."

Vera nodded with a smile of her own. 

“You would, wouldn’t you? I know how you can be when you get worked up, big brother.” She offered her hand to him with a wink. “...let me do at least that for you before you go. My memory for detail has got to be good for something.” 

"I am in your debt, little sister," he teased. And he tugged her away.

It seemed that after this, for the next little while it would just be her, Pearl, and her guardian angel's letters.

October 1, 2028– 7:45 pm

When Vera returned to her dorm, her head full of thoughts– Pearl was back, and practically ambushed her at the door.

"Oh wow, you are never going to believe what is up with Trucy!"

“Ahhhh!!” Vera squeaked, her heart rate briefly spiking in her chest before she managed to calm herself with a tilt of her head. “she’s got a new magic show?” 

"Nope!" Pearl draped herself around Vera's shoulders and pulled her into a half hug. "She's going out of the country! I'm missing another trip to Khura'in!"

Vera leaned against her, her arm halfway around her by the time the second half of Pearl’s sentence sunk in.

“...w-wait…she’s going where again, Pearl?” 

"Khura'in! Oh, you probably don't know where that is, huh? It's in the mountains, kind of close to Zheng Fa actually…"

“I…” Vera bit her lip. “I know where it is…I just can’t b-believe she’s going there too!” 

"Oh?" Pearl cocked her head looking at her curiously as she hung off of her.

Vera tilted her head to the side so they gently bonked together. “...big brother Klavier said that he…he’s going to Khura’in too. Which is why he won’t be able to visit me for a while.” 

"Ohh! Oh! She didn't mention Klavier but that makes so much sense!" Pearl nodded. "She said she was going to go get Apollo back to the country!"

Vera bit her nail before she stopped herself with a visceral shudder and the memory of the poison.

“So they’re going together…because that’s what Klavier said he was going to do. He was going to bring Apollo home to us so he doesn’t…v-vanish and become a monk. Or a lawyer for monks.” 

'Wow, now I'm even more jealous," Pearl pouted, sticking her tongue out. "But we're so busy with school there's no way we could go."

“M-me too.” Vera sighed. “I told him I wished I could go, you know? But there’s no way with school. If we dropped out now, we’d have to start from scratch….if they even accepted us again.” 

"Yeah. And there's no way we're going to give up on our dreams, right? So we'll have to cheer Trucy and Mr. Klavier on from here!"

Vera nodded, bumping her head against Pearl’s with a gentle smile. 

“and when they come back…we’ll have to catch them up on all the fun they missed out on…and show them our shiny new badges, of course.” 

Pearl grinned widely. "Honestly, that's going to be my favorite part. Well, and seeing Trucy again of course."

“Of course,” Vera laughed quietly into her hand. “Same for seeing Klavier for me…I think they’ll be pleasantly surprised by how far we’ll have come.” 

[postcreditscene]

Summer Post-Depression

It’s remarkably lonely coming out of such a crushing depression. Especially on the brink of change like this. Leaving the blanket of suicidal thoughts and the pillows of my prolonged girlhood is utterly terrifying. I, a girl who honestly did not plan to make it past the notable yet small age of thirteen, now have to pick universities, do my a-levels, wait patiently for exam results to know if my school will let me keep studying with them. My whole life is a painful and dreadful limbo now.

Summer holidays are always an end of an era in my life as my fall forsaken birthday comes closer yet again. This summer is decidedly my last as a girl and my first as a woman. Why? Because I finally don’t want to kill myself so badly that I need to make something of myself instead of just making sure the self survived. It clearly did as this is not a post mortem (although I may do one on my birthday, for the girl that will surely wither away for my more adult self). The past six months have been full of this, cramming the half of my classes I missed between gym sessions and fucking valorant matches has kept my mind occupied. Until now. Now I am sitting in the polish countryside, typing this on a sun warmed chair swing enjoying the last hours of silence before my aunt, her ape-ish husband and their rotund son come back. Nothing against my art of course, and every day I wonder what she did so wrong to be cursed with sons instead of daughters.

Either way, the peace will be over within the hour as my mother and her new boyfriend come back from their run. I’ve never met a man more loudly and confidently stupid. He is obtrusive. That is the only way I can describe him without being downright nasty and I’m really trying to stop doing that. Sadly after this holiday ad the following one in Paris with my father and his empty headed racist bimbo small-minded small-chested rotten in the soul wife I will be forced to live with my mother and her boyfriend in some sad new build house with his untrained poorly vaccinated dog and the fucking outdoor cat that I will be undoubtedly violently allergic to. Maybe I am a bit of a mean person. For context, my father’s wife forced me out of my own house (after having plunged me into living with her for a year, the attempts made during that year and the memories from that time are long forgotten) and my mother acts like a complete fucking retard as soon as her boyfriend is involved (for example, forgetting I exist, fucking off for two weeks at a time after my beloved childhood dog passed away, and most insultingly letting him call me ‘scary’). I had planned for this blog to be profound and not just a rant.

Circling back to the end of my girlhood and my subsequent rebirth as a woman (or just a teenage girl, god knows what kind of metamorphosis I will commit to). To simplify the goals of this transformation for myself, I’ve made a simply list.

• Get a boyfriend

• Go to school for at least 4/5 days of the week (I only did one full week of school last year about halfway through the spring)

• Fuck previously stated boyfriend (I might be scared of sex but I’ll totally get over that if he’s hot enough)

• Maybe get a girlfriend instead because dick is gross

• Go to the gym three times a week at least

• Plot some kind of cosmic level revenge on my sister who went fucking crazy and refused to do my hair before my school dance.

A very achievable list of goals for the summer and the following year of my life.

Back to the summer. I’m attending a wedding where there is apparently a very rich young man a year or two older than me that’s just finished studying at a boarding school in Switzerland who I’m supposed to be meeting. And he’s supposed to be handsome on top of that. What a catch (I’ll update you to weather he’s actually handsome or not). Perhaps a decent candidate to lose my ‘hold hands romantically’ virginity to. It is very hard being old and an ex-ugly still kind of strange neurodivergent woman. And now I sound like a social justice warrior.

Anyways, unbothered silence is over as is my writing session this fine morning. So I hope this serves as a half- decent introduction to my summer and my blog. Sorry that this is all over the place, I’m not good with introductions.

[we-dragons]

Chapter 20

The quietness of the world still scared me. All the mediocre patrols, all the calm nights. They were too peaceful given my circumstances. As my birthday closed the fear of this nothing only terrified me more. Nightmare, despite a telepathic and emotional connection, didn't seem to worry the same way. Even when I sent him out to do his own patrol in the veil. Nothing. Nothing was not a normal behavior of the Crow, nothing was not natural. Something tore into my core. A sort of despair I haven't felt since the trial of my parent's murder, my aunt not caught and danger still relevant. When I'm at school l Look over my shoulder so much I cause concern. I falter over my steps, constantly on guard. I know something isn't right. After all. The fate of the crows rests in the hands of my survival. And there is nowhere left to run. Not for me.

"What are you thinking so hard about dear?" Martha's voice pulls out of my head I turn to her almost shocked. "You've done nothing but polish silverware since that boy left with his brother. In fact, you've been doing it so much when your friends are gone. I'm sure they've begun emitting their own light." She puts a hand on my shoulder and leads my hands down, putting the silverware and polishing supplies away. "I think you should take a small break. You need it." I'm dragged to one of the tables set to the side for workers.

"Mrs. Martha, It's nothing really! I just felt they needed a good clean is all." Martha pushes me in a seat, and starts pouring one of the chamomile teas we have, and puts it in front of me. I attempt to get up and she shoots me a glare.

"You get up from that seat and I'll have Glen cancel your contract with us young lady." Sighing I sit back down and take a sip of the tea.

"I'm sorry, I've just had a lot on my mind recently."

"You're thinking about home again, right?"

"Something like that, It's just..." Pausing I turn the tea cup in my hands feeling the warmth heat my fingers. "So many nice things have been happening lately. I can't help but feel like I'm only in the eye of the storm."

"Do you really think that's where you are? The eye? Have you not left the storm, my dear?" A sadness hits her voice.

"No, what scares me more is that if this isn't the eye, then it's the calm before something worse."

She nods placing a hand on my wrist.

"And I'm sure not hearing about your family only makes that feeling fester. After all, you've been running for a long time haven't you?"

My eyes stare down at the ripples forming at the movements of the shop. I look back at all the people who had tried to help me in the past. Sheltered me. Fought. It weighs on me. I haven't felt so heavy in a long time. grip the cup tightly but not enough to break it.

"Yeah, nowhere is safe when a dangerous psychopath is after you. The government can only do so much I suppose."

"Yes, too bad the Faerie couldn't help you quite yet. 17 is a tight number you know! especially when you started lying about your birthday. Very clever of you to use your power to alter the knowledge of your birthday to the day you leave. But that magic was ours to spell with you can't influence us."

My blood freezes, and shakily I look at the old woman. The world seems to tear in front of me again. The slight tug I had been ignoring about these people aches urgently. I feel magic, old magic. Something I hadn't felt since the time I met with the Fay court. My body immediately adjusts not fighting the thought anymore. The old woman didn't look so kind her features became sharp, and the sense of calm I felt around her was replaced with warning. She looked younger despite her hair remaining white. I feel sick.

Her hand still remains soft around my wrist, her face still smiling.

"Your mother was a dear friend of mine. She spoke of you often. I was supposed to take care of you in the land of the Fay but your stunt in court, though understandable, made that difficult. I did Try to collect your brother, but your uncle and your pesky group made that too difficult. Your friends and family hid them well. Im really sorry that I couldn't be there to save you from the crow. I can't physically enter their relm. However me and Glen have been trying desperatly to make sure they don't break that barriar around this particular planet. It was so hard to get the Council to accept our agreement with your mother. But how could they say no to a binding deal."

I don't look but I feel the world freeze around me. Only one figure moves It was Glen, but not Glen. He pulls up a seat next to his wive. I stare at the hand that is too slender and elegant for a human. When he speaks he sounds so different and odd.

"All we had to do for them was capture your aunt and put her in the Plains. If she was only hard to find. All itterations of her were wicked and foul. She was so changed, she was half way to becoming a Crow herself. They way her flesh was torn-"

"My dear, she doesn't need to know the details."

I feel like static fills my brain, my body trembles and shakes when I finally look up the creatures both smile at me. I've never been able to accurately read the Fairy. My powers want so bad to learn about what makes them like that. Powerful and ethereal. I have to pull myself back fast.

"Why?"

They both increase their smile, it seems impossible. But they smile so widely I feel like their faces would break, but it looks like they could smile more.

"We loved your mother, she married our son after all."

"My father's parents were people from the Mediterranean! I met them, Don't-"

Their faces reform again taking on the those of my father's parents. I feel my breath catch in my mouth. I cant help but heave. Fairies can't completely match a person's appearance so I know it's them. My grandmother's mouth moves but all I can hear is the sound of the fairy's voice.

"With your...Birthday...coming soon. We think it's finally time to actually take you with us to Avalon.  was such a rebellious child. To choose a human wife and to have mortal children when he could have raised you and your brother with us. Preparing the wild hunt, and teaching you the mischief of our blood in the trees!"

"What-who are you?"

"Who else would I be my dear? I am your grandmother Mab, Queen of the Winter Court. Your father was crowned prince of the fall court. And this is your grandfather, Oberon. Dashing is he not?"

Glen, no, Oberon takes his hands in mine and kneels down below me.

"Your to come with us to live your life in our lands You will take your father's place and become the Crowned princess of the Fay Wilds. You'll not only rule the court of autumn, you'll be the heir to all the courts. Guaranteed safety within our realm. Forever."

"NO!"

I push myself away and off the chair. I run to my apartment slamming every sigil I ever learned on the door to my home.

"Nightmare! Nightmare! If you can hear me stay in whatever ever in between you in!"

I lock all my windows and doors and lock myself in my closet. The whole place smells like magic, it overwhelms my senses. I feel so sick.

Stay quiet Y/N it will all be over soon, breath slow, so hunters don't find you, and the predators don't hear you. You are safe in this space. You carved wards of all kinds on this door. Nothing that is magic finds you easy. So don't throw up, don't throw up, don't-

The door to the closet swings creaks open, and just before I surge energy around me I recognize the faint scent of cologne. My nerves tingle still unsure if my senses are being lied to.

"Y/N? I've been looking for you, what are you doing in the closet?" I hear him kneel down, and feel a hand cup my face. It didn't feel like that thing's fingers. So I opened my eyes and met the crystal green I had come to memorize. I latch onto him and breathe heavily, magic still permeates the air.

"Take me out of here please!"

"Y/N what's wrong? Did the crow come back?"

"We need to go! I beg you get me out of this place!"

He doesn't say anything but grabs some of my things and takes my hand. He leads me down the fire escape, to his car where I see Nightmare. He purrs as soon as he sees me. I watch the windows for things I wasn't catching before. There were so many eyes I had learned their frequency for shifting and now I can see them almost everywhere. Damian doesn't say anything for the entire ride only glances I can see from the side of my eye. We pull into a concealed entrance to an old clock tower. As soon as the entrance closes behind us I get out of the car. Cutting my hand open, drawing sigils, wards, and runes to any surface I can find.

"What are you doing?! Y/N!" He pulls me back wrapping his arms around my middle. "Calm down! Your safe! Stop mutilating yourself and look at me!" He turns me to face him. "What the matter why are you wiping your blood on the walls?"

"If I tell you, you can never go back to the coffee shop." I grip my fists in his shirt. "At this point, I don't know what's real or a figment of magic. I need you to be cautious of who you meet now. Because what just happened to me changes things. And I'm not actually sure what to believe at the moment."