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nonbinaryhomu · 3 years

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kyomami week day iii: very, very angst

oneshot, 1040 words

sorry for any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my native language

i’m very disappointed nobody are talking about that one scene where kyoko was close to becoming a witch and i always thinked about au where mami didn’t save her because she was late, so. here we are

and yeah that’s all additional memory references in there

“I-Is it… the end…?”

Redhead fourteen-year-old girl fell down into a ground, feeling the blood flowing from the corner of her lips. Still not wanting to die here, gathered all her strengths and crawled out from Witch’s Barrier, coughing up red liquid and stretching her hand forward, as if expecting help. This obviously isn’t true, she was all alone, nobody would help her.

This is like her life in this moment showed the end credits. All is over, the audience may diverge, only the main actor still stuck in this end, don’t know what will she do. Her career is over, these are her last moment in this place. She want to scream Please, let me still be there! Don’t leave me, you all! but this doesn’t work, all she can do is cry, because she can’t dry her tears anymore.

Her life lantern flickered and barely smoldered, rotating weakly around its axis. Red flames burned out, leaving only meaningless sediment behind. Darkness fell and through the ever darker lantern it was impossible to see anything; there were only empty holes glowing with despair, which she did not manage to fill during her life. There were so many unfinished things behind her, but maybe it’s even better – her life was so meaningless. All she could do was watch as an impenetrable curtain covers all her dreams.

“You can’t use your magic anymore, didn’t you?” cat-like creature smiled innocently and jumped on her chest. “It really looks like it’s the end for you. You’re useless.”

“But… Why…?” girl choked out hard, looking at creature from under half-closed lids. “It’s not that I just forgot how to use my magic, right…? You must joking, Kyubey…”

“You said you don’t need her anymore, Kyoko” smiled Kyubey and wagged his tail. “Didn’t you see? Your words worked. And, all your magic was to help your beloved family, but they all died, because of you. Isn’t that alright? Object of your wish died, your magic is useless. You are useless.”

“Why… Did you say this to me?” asked Kyoko, transforming from her magical girl outfit to her usual clothes and closing her eyes. “I always though… You aren’t type who help his innocent victims…”

“I’m not helping you” announced Incubator, still with him smile in him face. “I just want to inform you that you die in a moment. All of your magical energy disappeared, and you haven’t any Grief Seeds anymore. This is the situation without exit.”

“What will happen to me?” red-eyed asked again, feeling, how her body starts to get colder, like her heart and even Soul Gem. “This… It will not the painless death, right…?”

“You’ll just turn into a Witch. That’s all, the fate of all magical girls. Although, to be honest, I didn’t think you ever turn into this, but even I can be wrong. Like humans.”

Teen girl sighed deeply, feeling, how her heart was ripped off. She turns into the monster that her dad called her, isn't that fair? She led her family to death, she deserved this fate, she deserved everything, what will happen to her.

But deep in her dying heart one thought flashed out: Let me hug her. Let me hug her once more…

–––

The sun was slowly going down.

Mami sighed heavy, when the winter wind pierced her body. She was so alone in evenings like this. Kyoko didn’t come today too and looks like even Kyubey didn’t want to be with her. When her classmates invited her to walk together, she refused, but now regretted it.

Sun started bounced back on the fountain she passed, what made her remembered times, when she passed this way with her only one magical girl friend. Those times were singing to the accompaniment of an orange sky and trying to stop the sun from switching places with the moon. Those times made her laugh, made her happy. But now, when she was left alone again, from unknown reason, her thoughts were going in one direction: what if she wasn't so afraid to do what she always wanted? When sun was going down and she was focused her eyes on younger girl, saying Let’s go home, so we don’t lose our way, choosing the wrong road, she always wanted to just grab her kouhai’s hand, but was too scared to do this. When their hands were meeting by accident she started apologizing, saying, she didn’t want to this happen. But all of her words were lies. All of her words concealed within themselves tears, what she couldn’t dry anymore.

She didn’t want to be “just friends”, staying just friends wouldn't please her, all of her words were love, what she can’t confess. All the goodbyes, all the “See you tomorrow”, this all made her hoping one day in answer she would hear “Goodbye, I love you”. Of course, she was so wrong and so naive, but she want to be so wrong and so naive, this was the only hope she has left. Sky refused to accept her tears anymore, the evening words sparkled with lonely regret, oh God, she couldn’t bear this feeling. Kyoko will never can hear her thoughts, but if only… If only…

“I can’t take this anymore” escaped from her lips, when she started running to place in town near Mitakihara, only to see that person she wanted to see the most. “I’m sorry, I love you.”

–––

Grief Seed bloomed at the sky above dying Kyoko, making her sure it’s the end. Her life lantern disappeared and even those regretful words didn’t want to cover her heart. She can’t just go back, she can’t go to home and forget about everything. All that is left are tears she can’t dry, the whole world around her turned upside down. Nothing left to her, but…

“W-Wait, please, no!” the gentle and as if from a distance voice what she knew perfectly well started screaming, but she can’t open her eyes, covered with shedding tears. “Sakura-san, don’t say you…!”

This still was the end, no matter how she didn’t want to die in that moment.

The curtain finally fell.

”Sorry and hey, I loved you so much” was her only answer, until world ended to her.

#i love additional memory sm okay #one of my fave kagepro songs #and maybe that cover i based on more suit to chapter 11 but nevermind #kyomami week #puella magi madoka magica #madoka magica #pmmm #madomagi #kyomami #kyoko sakura #mami tomoe #* imu's writing #* my post #;; i want to meet you all in a world without witches || the different story #;; otp: you're the only family i have left || kyomami

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demialwrites · 4 years

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Fallen Angel, Down to Earth

Fuck me, things have been rough with my mental health lately. So I slowly nurtured this fic. It was relaxing to write so it’s not too exciting. It’s a nice length, tho!

Hanging upside-down was more awkward than you previously thought. Especially since one of the biggest heroes of Wutai was the one holding you up. By the ankle and you were sure his hand was made of iron by the way he gripped you. If anyone saw Sephiroth holding you from plummetting to your death over a cliff, the story would spread like a nasty fart until everyone in Shinra knew. And laughed. You would have laughed, too.

You pled silently with him to put you down. You would have spoke the words but the hero himself but you were too engrossed in checking him out up-close. You did that instead, brows knitted in concentration. He did wear more belts than he needed to. His long, silver hair was glorious. And his eyes were a spring green that you'd never seen before. His black slit pupils dilated when your eyes met and you shivered. "Please, put me down, Sir!" you blurted. He smirked slightly before doing as you asked, giving his full bottom lip extra curve. He was surprisingly gentle, not just dropping you to the hard ground. "Are you hurt?" he asked. You sprang up, rapidly patting yourself down for injuries. You came up with nothing but extra dirt. "No!" Another slight smile. "Good." He turned from you and walked away. You stood there for a second before you realized he expected you to follow without being asked. You hurried up to his side. "So what do we do now?" "We find everyone else." Oh, right. You forgot you got separated from the rest while you were falling off the cliff. "Where could they be?" you wondered aloud. "I don't know. This shouldn't have happened." You followed Sephiroth around for a while, with no one in sight. You almost followed him around a corner when he quickly doubled back a step, shoving you back, also. "What?" you hissed quietly. He whipped around, hair brushing your knee. He squeezed your shoulder and put a finger to his lips. His pupils were wide again. You got lost in their blackness until a procession of bomb monsters floating past caught your eyes. They came from where you were heading. It was a much bigger group than you were used to. If not for Sephiroth's presence, you would have been terrified. You were hyper-aware of his hand still gripping your shoulder. He let go when he felt it was safe, checking around the corner again. You put your hand where his used to be. "C'mon," he said. You joined his side again. "Why didn't you just kill them...if you don't mind me asking, Sir." "There were too many for me to guarantee that I could keep you alive." Your shoulders relaxed down. "Ahhhh. That's nice." "I thought you might like that," he teased. To you, Sephiroth was just wandering around. But he pointed out evidence on the ground that proved otherwise. Bootprints and such. It surprised you how knowledgeable he was. He followed the trail until you started yawning. You tried to hide it. "The excitement of nearly dying probably tired you out," he said. "Let's stop for the night." As much as you wanted to keep going and return sooner to a warm, comfortable bed, at least you got more time with Sephiroth. Maybe you would learn more about him. He told you to set up camp while he took care of the fire to keep the chill at bay. You put down your bedroll, then looked up to find him lighting a suspiciously thick pile of branches with fire materia. Like he had snapped small trees in half. After some bland rations, you both settled down to rest. You got into your bedroll while he sat on top of his. You wanted to ask him about himself but the warmth from the fire was making you drowsy. He was gazing up at the clear and starry sky. You looked up as well. You gazed along with him in silence, the stars reminding you that the planet was spinning slowly on its axis while it orbited the sun. A massive, round cradle for all the tiny living beings on its surface. You yawned, the drowsiness increasing. So easy to lay your head down on that cradle and sleep like a baby. This experience with Sephiroth soothed away some of the intimidation you held before and you hoped you would get to work with him again. He did you a favour and found you himself in the halls first. "Hey, Sir!" "Hey," he replied. "I know you want to avoid the humiliation of everyone finding out what happened at the cliff. I'll omit from my report what exactly happened if you go on a date with me." "You don't date!" you blurted without thinking. It was always what you heard. He'd been asked many times and always turned them down. He was just teasing you. "You're cute when you're flustered. Are you turning me down?" He didn't seem concerned with your answer, just gazed at you with that same smirk as when he held you over the cliff. It had a softened, dreamier edge. It wasn't aimed at your eyes but lower. Your lips or maybe your body. You were still confused but had no reason to say no. "Yes, I guess..?" His gaze jumped back up to your eyes. "Alright, then. Where should we go? Normally, I'm too busy to go anywhere for fun." You suggested your favourite spots to eat. You would love to hear his opinion. He shook his head; too many people would bother him. That left you stumped. "I want to see your place," he said. "Show me how you live." "Me? It would bore you." "I'm curious." He leaned down closer. "Humour me." Your heart beat faster, butterflies went nuts in your stomach, and you agreed. On the night of the date, death was at your door. He had glowing green eyes. Actually, it was Sephiroth in black with the hood up on his hoodie. You smiled, laughing inwardly at yourself. His shadowed face unnerved you at first but you couldn't be surprised at his fashion choices based on his battle gear. The zipper on the hoodie was down halfway, showing a grey shirt. Black jeans and boots completed the outfit. He pulled the hood down and all of his hair out of the back of the sweater where it had been tucked and looked relieved. You assumed he didn't want to deal with anyone who would recognize him off the Soldier recruitment posters and didn't question it. He held out a white plastic bag that was tied at the top like takeout normally was. That got you a little excited. "I had one of the cafeteria chefs make something similar to the food you mentioned." "And they just did that for you?" He shrugged. "Yes." Like it was a normal occurrence. You wanted to peek inside the bag of takeout but instead, took it to the dining table. Instead of following, Sephiroth got distracted in the area just inside your door. "What's this?" he asked, picking up a knickknack and inspecting it. "Oh, I..." Sephiroth went around, picking up or pointing out various items with which decorated your apartment. You explained how you got each one and what drew you to it. It was like a child using a magnifying glass just to see how things look in more detail. Maybe this was his version of fun. You looked for an opening to turn it around and ask /him/ something but you couldn't bring yourself to interrupt. "Why don't we eat?" he finally said, turning from your personal items with a satisfied look. You embarrassed yourself by sneaking glances at his full, curvy lips while he sucked in noodles from his portion of the takeout. The date was looking up. A good view and the heavenly slide of greasy chow mein down your throat. Mmmm, fat. The cafeteria chefs didn't skimp on the meat and vegetables, either. Sephiroth finished his portion with a healthy appetite and said, "Not bad." There was an awkward moment until he told you he wanted to see what you normally did on a night like this. You thought, No, that's boring. I'm boring. How is he not bored yet? His expectant look won over. You went to your bathroom to grab some items. You came back and placed a couple of sheet masks on the table. He picked one up and eagerly read the package. "I see. Is this like a hair mask?" "Yeah!" You lit up with a smile, thankful that he caught on quickly. "I use those." "What?" "Surprised? This hair requires a lot of maintenance." He said that so casually but you couldn't picture him lovingly brushing and styling his hair. Either way, you had an out-of-body experience when Sephiroth, the most famous hero of Shinra, ripped open the mask and applied it carefully. Thankfully, your real body was numb enough without your soul to follow suit and put on your own mask on autopilot. Since he was wearing the mask, you decided it wasn't so bad to do the other thing you normally did on work nights; watch TV. You made a guess that he would want to watch a documentary because he spent all evening soaking up information. Turns out it was a good choice. He commented often that he had been to the various places filmed and how easily he had dispatched any monsters shown. It reminded you who you sat next to and you were glad he was friendly. You were starting to get sleepy from the all carbs and the late hour. Sephiroth, in contrast, seemed like he could stare unblinking at the TV screen forever. You shrugged inwardly; it was weird but least he was easy to please. Staring at him, it struck you that this entire time you wanted to see him humanized. Not the untouchable hero from the recruitment posters. This date had done just that. He was weird but who wasn't a little? You smiled at him. "This was a good date," you told him. He returned the smile. "I'm glad you think so." He held his hand out, palm-up. You put your hand on top. He closed his fingers and rested your two hands on his thigh. You fell asleep. Sephiroth let you sleep until he decided it was your bedtime. He nudged you awake and guided your half-asleep self to your bed.

#long post #lonnnnnnnng post #ff7 #sephiroth x reader #gender neutral reader #fluff #comedy #my shit

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ecoamerica · 22 days

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spidernana · 4 years

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From the Heart

(Just a little something for my beautiful girl Aliza, on her birthday <3 happy birthday, sweetheart)

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“What is all this?”

For the first time Aliza had ever seen in her acquaintance with the skeleton monster, Sans jumped in surprise, tangling his hands in the colorful paper streamers he had been hanging on the wall and nearly ripping the rest of them down in the process.

She’d never managed to sneak up on the always alert monster before… he must have been really concentrating. She’d have to be more careful; he didn’t usually take kindly to things putting him off his guard.

Understandably so. This wasn’t… really the best sort of place to let things come up on you unawares, even in your own house.

Laughingly, the girl shook her head and approached the now obviously grumpy skeleton, reaching out to help him detangle the streamers from his hands (he’d managed to get a wad of tape lodged between his metacarpals, that was gonna be a nightmare), and he looked away sheepishly, face half hidden in the shadow of his hood but gaze, remarkably, completely even and subdued, even given her quiet approach and his shock at her sudden arrival.

She’d expected him to lose it a bit. He looked pretty calm, though, just huffing under his breath and holding his hands out to let her assist him with an embarrassed, crooked grin playing about the stained bone of his mouth.

“you weren’t supposed to come back for a bit. this was supposed to be a surprise…” he grumbled half-heartedly, looking around the room with a slightly disappointed air with the comforting blue glow of his more stable magic lighting his whole, unshattered socket, and Aliza, hands full of the balled up paper ribbons, righted herself to join him in his inspection, and let out a tiny gasp.

She’d only been able to see one of the walls from the hallway that lead in from the backyard, unaware of the state of the rest of the room, and found it draped with far more streamers, along with several paper signs declaring ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ in large, garish, polka dotted letters. On the table in front of the couch were some party favors, some paper hats and a small pile of wrapped boxes, as well as a little cake, topped with a single, unlit candle.

She had no idea how he’d managed a cake… where had he found the ingredients? He must have sacrificed a lot to make it…

“Dad… it’s…” she whispered, a scattering of tears gathering on her lashes and her soul pounding against her ribs in heartfelt glee, while, beside her, Sans let out a tiny sigh, rubbing his now tape free hand along the back of his neck abashedly.

“i know it’s not much. i just wanted to do something for you… mark the occasion. it’s our first with you here, and your mother told me sixteen was a big year for humans...” he explained quietly, kicking the heel of his sneaker against the baseboard of the wall behind him, but Aliza let him get no further, turning on her heel, dropping her ball of tape and streamers to the floor, and tackle hugging him around the neck.

His reaction was less subdued this time, his hands clawing in the back of her hoodie and his entire body tensing with practiced instinct, and the girl sprung away the next moment, flushed with both embarrassment and joy at once.

“Oh gosh I’m sorry daddy, but it’s amazing. Aaaah, thank you so much!” she squealed, taking his clenched hands in hers and jumping on the spot. His reactive snarl melted at the sight, shoulders unlocking and grip on his own palms loosening, but the striking flare of his kindled and corrupted justice remained behind, as well as a look of frustrated impatience.

“aliza-” he began to reprimand, gruff and disgruntled at the forced change in his mood, and Aliza settled and looked down at her toes, biting at her lower lip in shame.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I’m supposed to warn you before I do that, but I just… I can’t believe you remembered,” she excused, twisting the toe of one slightly wet sneaker into the carpet, and the remainder of the skeletal monster’s choler dissipated into nothing, his grasp in hers shifting to hold her hands more comfortably. The gold of his wakened magic faded with an audible fizzle, and his smile, quizzical and small, returned.

“...of course i remembered. how could i forget?” he queried softly, squeezing her fingers indicatively to draw her attention back to him, and she looked back at him from under her lashes with a shrug and a half smile, unphased and nonchalant.

“Everyone else always did,” she said simply, and the magnitude of her lack of expectations hit Sans like a freight train, knocking his smile from his face and tightening his grasp on her hands.

No one had ever cared enough for her to even remember her birthday...

“...precious, i’m so sorry. if i could’ve-” he began, his soul sinking in his chest with sorrow and regret (if he could have been there… if he’d known she existed in his world, if he could have reached her, he’d have loved her the way she deserved, her entire life; she’d have never been forgotten, never felt alone or unloved a single moment… never come to expect it), but Aliza interrupted him with a quiet chuckle and a shake of her head, lifting her head and sending him a stronger smile this time.

“Dad, it’s not a big deal. I forget it all the time too. I… I forgot it was today, in fact,” she remarked laughingly, seemingly unaffected by what any normal person would be devastated by (long practice, he assumed), but her dismissal did nothing to soothe him, only depressing him further, and he used her hold on his hands to pull her against his chest, enfolding her in a reciprocated hug and smoothing her hair under his hand.

She’d never feel forgotten again. He’d see to that, no matter what.

“we’ll make sure it’s something for you to remember from now on, baby girl,” he promised her unflinchingly, leaning his skull against the top of her head and swaying with her on the spot fondly, and Aliza softened into the embrace for a long, long moment, clinging to the skeletal monster and burying her face in his chest.

He could feel her shoulders shaking, knew all too well the signs of her taking a moment to shed a few tears, and let her have them, smiling softly and just… being there for her. It’s what she really needed, not advice or soothing words.

He could more than do that.

Only the clock ticking away on the wall heralded the passing of time, that and the knocking about of pans and crockery coming from the kitchen (Papyrus had gone in to make their dinner almost an hour ago; he’d be done soon, and they could have their little party), but it wasn’t long before Aliza, with a quiet sniffle and a watery smile, pulled back from their embrace and slid one hand into her hoodie’s pocket, feeling around for something inside.

“Well, um. Daddy. That kind of reminds me... I was… I was actually out back making something. A present. For you,” she stammered, flushing again and wiping at her wet cheeks with her shoulder, and Sans, huffing out a snicker and bending to pick up the ball of wadded up streamer that had fallen to the floor, sat himself on the edge of the couch idly, crossing his ankles and raising a single bony brow in amusement.

“heh... you really don’t know much about birthdays, do ya. that’s my line,” he teased, setting the paper ball aside on the edge of the crowded coffee table, but Aliza didn’t laugh along, fidgeting what she had pulled from her pocket between her fingers and looking… almost embarrassed?

“I just… wanted to show you I was learning something useful. Since my magic is still… not great. So. Here,” she blurted out, thrusting the small object in her hands at him and turning her head away as though she couldn’t stand to look at it a moment longer, and Sans, bemused and exasperated, took it from her and set in his own larger palm, sending the excitable girl a quelling look.

“you don’t have to do that, honey, magic is hard to…” he excused, more than pleased with her progress himself (she didn’t explode into random balls of fire anymore, and hadn’t accidentally teleported anywhere in a month. She was doing fine), but fell into silence as he glanced down to the object sitting in his hand, light and small and, apparently, carved from wood. “huh. a heart?”

A lopsided, slightly splintery heart at that, but he recognized the shape and the skill she was referring to; carving wood was something he’d picked up after the Hunger had set in, a past time that kept his hands from shaking and his mind from shattering too often, and there was certainly no shortage of it around these parts. He’d started teaching her how to do it too, something to help her cope with the urges that he could see growing in her day after day.

It was better than pulling her hair out or chewing on her own fingers like she had started to.

She flushed darker at his question, hiding behind her hair but reaching out, with slightly tremulous fingers, to turn the heart over in his hand, until it rested upside down in his palm.

“...A soul. Since yours is so hurt. Made with love and all, the good kind. Maybe… it’ll get you through. Until we can get out,” she muttered, glancing at him from the corner of her eye to see his reaction, but he had none to give.

All he could do was stare at her, his blood stained phalanges closing over the carved piece of wood that he knew he would carry with him everywhere, every day, for the rest of the life that he had left, and wonder what he had done, what the stars had seen in him, to grant him someone like her.

Nothing, as far as he was concerned… but it must have been something. Some reason why a light so bright and pure as she had been brought to him, here in the hell he had made with his own hands.

His silence panicked her. She started to stutter, her arms folding around herself protectively and her shoulders lowering and her gaze, again, filling with tears that she hated, that she hated so much that it made her entire body shake.

“I-I… I know it’s silly, and childish, I just thought-” she stammered, wanting to run, run back to her room and hide so she wouldn’t have to hear how stupid he thought it was (what had she been thinking, why would he like that, it was so dumb), but he stopped her with a snort and a fierce, tight hug the moment he regained his feet, sliding the heart (soul… his new soul) into the pocket of his shorts as he reached for her.

“it’s beautiful, aliza. thank you. it’s... it means more than you realize,” he whispered, a tear of his own sliding down the cracked bone of his skull as he cradled her close, and Aliza, stiff for a single moment, hugged him back just as fiercely, again burying her face in his chest and clenching her fingers into the familiar warmth of his jacket.

“I… I love you, dad,” she murmured into his t-shirt, stained with the old evidence of his sins, sins that couldn’t be washed away no matter how hard he tried, and he turned his face into her hair, smiling brokenly and feeling, deep inside himself, the cracks that counted down the rest of his days heal just a little bit.

“love you too, precious. so... so much.”

#axetale #aliza #sans #happybirthdayprecious

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mycatshuman · 4 years

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The Emo Who Stole Christmas

Chapter 4 : You're A Mean One Mr. Grinch or Virgil and Roman Are Done With the Who's and Decide to Get Back at Them.

Word Count: 3,477

Warnings: stealing of Christmas, may be some cursing, grown adult blaming a child for their problems, let me know if I missed any

Pairings: Pre-established Prinxiety and Logicality and Demus

Masterlist | Previous | Next | More Chapters

Again, a big thank you to @icequeenoriginal for being the co-creator. This was a mother-daughter effort and I love it.

❄🎅🎄❄🎅🎄❄🎅🎄❄🎅🎄❄🎅🎄❄

Virgil stood staring down at the Whoville in the ice-cold snow.

Yes, the Grinch knew that tomorrow all the Whos would wake bright and early and rush for their toys.

"And then, the noise! Oh, the noise! Noise, noise, noise!" Virgil exclaimed as he stomped around. "They'll bang on tong-tinglers. They'll blow their floo-flounders. They'll crash on Jang-jinglers and bounce on boing-bouncers!" He held his hands to his ears as if he could already hear the horrific noise.

Then Whos young and old would sit down to feast.

"And they'll ready and they'll feast. And they'll feast, feast, feast, feast!!" Virgil exclaimed as he stomped around. "They'll eat their Who pudding! And rare Who roast beast! And that's something I can not stand in the least." Virgil paused in his ranting. "Oh no!" He exclaimed horrified. "I'm speaking in rhyme!" He cried out. "Blast you Whos!" He exclaimed as he fell to his knees.

The more the Grinch thought of what Christmas would bring…the more the Grinch thought...

"I must stop this whole thing!" Virgil exclaimed as he stood up and paced. "For year after year, I've put up with it now! I must stop this Christmas from coming! But how?" Virgil blinked. "I mean, in what way?" He let out an annoyed growl and turned to walk inside. He opened the door and was hit with a blast of cheery Christmas music.

"Christmas is going to the dogs!" Virgil blinked as he watches Remy lazily bath himself to the music. Virgil opened his mouth only to close it again confused. He quickly jumped at the sound of his door opening and turned to find Roman dressed in sweats.

"Roman?" Virgil asked concerned. "How are you feeling?" Roman shuffled forward and fell forward into his lover's arms. Virgil's arms came up to wrap around the other and envelope him in a hug.

"Virgil…I want to live with you. I don't want to be down there anymore. Not with the way they keep treating me, like some ornament meant to be stared at or ignored! Please! I don't care if someone finds out, I can't live there anymore!”

Virgil blinked rapidly. "Love," he started. "Are you 100% sure about this?" Roman nodded. Virgil sighed and ran his hands through the other soft curls.

"Virgil?" Roman asked softly after a while.

"Hmm?"

"I want to make them pay. I want them to understand. I don't-I want them to-" Roman groaned and hurried his face in Virgil's chest, ironically too emotionally exhausted to deal with his emotions. Virgil frowned and snuggled the other closer trying to provide as much comfort as he could. Then, his mind began to whirl.

Then the Grinch got an idea. An awful idea. The Grinch got a wonderful awful idea.

Virgil pulled away from Roman and announced. ”I’m going to steal Christmas.” Roman blinked as Virgil smirked. "They want to hurt you so bad, they'll lose Christmas. And if they want a monster, then I'll show them a monster!"

Roman hopped up, finally finding some energy. "Yes! I'll go make the costume. You work on the sleigh!" He turned to Remy only to stop. "And you just keep bathing yourself." Roman ran off and began working while Virgil started on the monstrous sleigh.

”With this coat and this hat, he'll look just like Saint Nick!" Roman exclaimed. As they worked, Roman's voice sang a little song he had composed from all of the stupid rumors about the Grinch. "'You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch,'" Virgil chuckled as he heard the other sing. "'You really are a heel. You're as cuddly as a cactus, You're as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch! You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel!" Roman walked over to Virgil with the hat and place it on his head as he sang and place a quick kiss to his cheeks before going back to work on the jacket. "'Just face the music, you're a monster, Mr. Grinch, yes, you are. Your heart's an empty hole. Your brain is full of spiders. You've got garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch. I wouldn't touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole.'" Virgil snorted as Roman danced around with the jacket before sitting on a table out of his way so he could work on the pants. "You know, if you ask the Who's Who of Whoville, No one's denyin” Virgil spared a glance at Roman and smiled. Boy did he love him.

"'You're a vile one, Mr. Grinch." Roman picked up the song again. "'You have termites in your smile. You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch. Given the choice between you, I'd take the seasick crocodile!" Virgil giggled as Roman tossed the pants over to the same table. He closed the front door behind him after having moved the sleigh outside and walked over to Roman. He wrapped him in a hug and kissed his temple. Roman hummed happily. Virgil hated to have to wipe the smile from his face.

"Roman," Roman made a small noise of acknowledgment. "I'm going to need you to go home. Just for tonight."

Roman ripped himself away from Virgil. "What?! Why?!"

"I can't have you helping me-"

"No! You can't--no!"

"Roman, please-"

"No! No! No!"

"Roman, I can't have you getting in trouble. I want to make sure if you ever want to go back, you can! I can't bare to have you help and then regret it and then want to leave but you can't because you've been shunned. Please, Roman. This is all I ask. Just this one night. Please."

Roman stared at Virgil for a while before reluctantly nodding. "Okay," he whispered. He wasn't happy about it, but he knew it would make Virgil feel better about everything. "Okay, just-" Roman moved forward and placed a hand on Virgil's cheek. "Be careful, okay?" Virgil nodded. "Thank you." Roman pushed up on his tiptoes and gave the other a light kiss. "I'll see you later."

"See you later," Virgil promised

-----

Virgil sat with Remy watching Santa through a telescope. "He should be finishing up anytime now. Wanna talk about a recluse? He only comes out once a year but does he catch any hate for it? No! He probably lives up there just to avoid the taxes." Virgil ranted. He paused as he watched as Santa flew away in his sleigh. "Whoops. I forgot about the reindeer…"

Did that stop the old Grinch? No, the Grinch simply said:

"If I can't find a reindeer, I'll make one instead." Virgil turned around and faced Remy. "Remy!" Remy rolled his eyes and prepared himself to wear a headband with antlers. Virgil quickly found a reindeer headband and placed it on his cat's head before placing a red nose on his nose. "Okay, you're a reindeer and your motivation is that you're a deer with a red nose and nobody likes you. One day, you save Christmas-" Virgil paused. "Ignore that. We'll just improvise. You hate Christmas! You're gonna steal it! Saving Christmas was such a lousy ending. Okay and action!"

Remy glared at Virgil before knocking the red nose off. Virgil blinked and then he gasped. "Brilliant! You regret your own nose because it represents the glitter of commercialism! Why didn't I think of that?" Then Virgil walked off and climbed into the sleigh along with Remy.

Virgil flipped the switch and the sleigh came life, vibrating with power. "That feels good." Virgil turned to Remy "Here goes nothing," and he pressed the bottom to start actually start moving. The sleigh rose up in the air and Virgil grinned. "Wow! It actually works! Okay! Let's go! On, Crasher! On Thrasher! On, Vomit and Blitzkrieg!!!" Virgil screamed as the sleigh shot off and began spinning violently, turning over and over. "We're gonna die!" Virgil shrieked. "We're gonna die! I'm going to throw up! And then we're gonna die! Mommy, tell it to stop!!" He cried, eventually he was able to wrangle control of the sleigh and they flew smoothly through the sky. Virgil stayed frozen for a moment before allowing himself to slightly relax. He let out a sigh of relief. "Almost lost my cool there."

All their windows were dark. Quiet snow filled the air. All the Whos were all dreaming sweet dreams without care when he came to the first little house on the square…

Virgil slowly brought down the sleigh on top of the roof of an overly decorated house. He noticed a traffic light among the variety of lights. "Weird." He turned back to Remy. "This will be our first stop."

The old Grinchy Claus hissed. And he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist. He'd slide down the chimney, a rather tight pinch, but if Santa could do it, so could the Grinch.

Virgil stood up and tied a rope around his waist. He stepped up onto the edge of the chimney and prepared to dive. "He's planning a double-twisted interrupted forward-flying 2-and-a-half with a combo tuck and like. A high degree of difficulty," Virgil muttered and jumped and dove headfirst down into the chimney.

He got stuck only once, for a moment or two…

Virgil groaned quietly. "Stupid suit," muttered, referring to the furry suit of the Grinch. Something that helped him scare kids off and leave him alone now was slowing him down from his biggest scare of all. He huffed.

Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue.

"A little more stealth, Thomas, please."

Thomas lowered his voice. Where the little Who stockings all hung in a row.

"These stockings," he grinned. "Are the first things to go." The Grinch opened a jar and turned it upside down, shaking out moths. "Alright, fellas, chow time." The moths quickly gobbled up the stockings.

Then he slunk to the icebox.

"Slunk?"

He eyed the Whos' feast. He took the Who pudding. He took the roast beast.

"Hike!" Virgil called out as he launched the roast beast through his legs like a football player.

He cleaned out that icebox as quick as a flash. Why that Grinch, even took their last can of Who-hash. Then he stuffed all the food up the chimney with glee.

Virgil threw the bag up the chimney and spun around to face the tree. "And now," grinned the Grinch. "I'll stuff up the tree!" And the Grinch grabbed the tree and he started to shove, when he heard a small sound like the coo of a dove.

Virgil turned to find Emile and grimaced. He felt really bad about this….

"Excuse me" Emile called softly.

The Grinch had been caught by this tiny Who child, who'd got out of bed for a cup of cold water.

"Mr. Santa, what are you doing with our tree?"

But you know, that old Grinch was so smart and so slick, he thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick.

"Why my sweet little tot!" Virgil exclaimed grandly. "There's a light on this tree that won't light on one side. So, I'm taking it home to my workshop, sweet child. "I'll fix it up there, then I'll bring it back here."

Emile narrowed their eyes. "Santa, what's Christmas really about?"

"Vengeance!" Virgil exclaimed before remembering he was supposed to be pretending he was the perfect Who Santa. "I mean...presents, I suppose."

Emile frowned. "I was afraid of that."

And his fib fooled the child. Then he patted their head and got them a drink, and he sent them to bed.

Emile paused their journey up the stairs. "Santa?"

"What?" Virgil asked.

"Don't forget the Grinch-"

Virgil couldn't take it anymore and walk out from behind the tree. "I'm sorry."

Emile blinked and furrowed their brows. "Why?"

Virgil bit his lip. "To show you all what's more important ...and to get back at everyone for upsetting Roman."

Emile nodded. "Okay. Well...good luck, Virgil."

And when Emile Lou went up with their cup, the Grinch went to the chimney and stuffed the tree up. Virgil quickly shot the tree up the chimney and grabbed everything else before climbing back up the chimney. And the last thing he took was the log for their fire. On their walls, he left nothing but some hooks and some wire. And the one speck of food that he'd left in the house, was a crumb that was even too small for a mouse. Virgil reached down and picked the mouse up deciding to allow it to eat something so long as it wasn't in a Whos’ house. Then he slithered and slunk with a smile most unpleasant, around each Who home and he took every present.

Virgil took a saw and cut a circle above his head and the floor fell through along with the Christmas tree and its presents. He stepped up through the hole and smirked. "They're in sale. Everything must go." And he began to take it all.

------

Virgil froze as he stepped into the bedroom of a magazine picture-perfect house. Oh. This was Roman's house. He glanced around at the decorations and found himself smiling fondly. He should have known. Everything just screamed Roman from the abundance of reds, whites, and golds. He carefully walked over to the bedside table and noticed the ring box the mayor had given Roman. He nearly growled as he went to take it before noticing something else. It was his gift. The one he had made for Roman all those years ago. Virgil's eyes watered and he forced himself to blink the tears away. He shook his head and quickly snatched the ring box off of the table. He went to move only to be stopped by a tan hand yanking him down and lips crashing into his. Virgil blinked in surprise before happily giving into Roman and allowing the other to wrap his arms around his neck.

Roman pulled away after kissing Virgil senseless. "Virgil," he asked softly. "Please, let me help." Virgil bit his lip. "I suppose..." He started. "You can help...but...just promise that if we get caught, you say I forced you to do it, okay?"

Roman's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait! No! I can't-"

"Then I can't let you help."

Roman blinked. "I-okay," he sighed in defeat. "I'll tell them you forced me." Virgil let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

-----

Roman froze as he finally dragged the attention away from Virgil's hiding place. He hadn't realized the Whos would put out guards to guard the path leading to Mount Crumpit after everyone went to bed to protect from the Grinch. From Virgil. But Virgil ran out of fuel for his rocket sleigh and he had to drag it up the mountain himself. But they were losing moonlight, and the long way around wouldn't work. So Roman offered to try and distract them. But now, he was very nervous. The Who guards had rounded on him. Accusing him of being in league with the Grinch. Of course, he was, but Virgil had made him promise and he wasn't about to break his promise.

"You really think I'm in league with the Grinch?" Roman asked the guards.

They nodded. "Yeah, why else wouldn't you have immediately said yes to Mayor Anton's proposal?”

Roman grimaced. He really hated the mayor.

"If I really hated the Grinch, would I do this?" Then Roman started his song. "'You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch. You really are a heel, You're as cuddly as a cactus, You're as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch. You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel. Just face the music, you're a monster, Mr. Grinch, yes, you are. Your heart's an empty hole, Your brain is full of spiders, You've got garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch. I wouldn't touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole. You know, if you ask the Who's Who of Whoville No one's denyin'. You're a vile one, Mr. Grinch. You have termites in your smile. You have all the tender sweetness Of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch. Given the choice between you, I'd take the seasick crocodile.'"

As Roman sang, he watched Virgil carefully carry the sleigh behind the two guards and try to rush up the path until he wouldn't be noticed.

"I suppose not," one of the guards said once Roman's song was done. Then they both turned back to face the mountain.

Roman blinked. Surely it can't be that easy! But it seemed it was. So he turned and quickly found the nearest garbage chute and took a ride to the top of Mount Crumpit. Prepared to meet his love at the top.

----

3,000 feet up, up the side of Mount Crumpit, he rode with his load to the tip top to dump it.

Virgil grunted as he set the sleigh down carefully in the snow and turned to face Roman who was standing before him. "We did it!" He exclaimed excitedly. Roman grinned, leaped into his arms and wrapped him in a tight hug. Virgil placed a kiss to Roman's lips before setting him back down on his own feet. Virgil turned to Remy. "That wasn't so bad, was it Remy?"

Remy rolled his eyes as he remembered at least 30 different breakdowns Virgil had had along the way.

Roman turned towards the horizon. "They'll be waking up now," he said. "I know just what they'll do. All of them down in Whoville will all cry!”

----

"What an embarrassment! I've been robbed!" The sheriff of Whoville exclaimed as she rushed out of her house to her car. She climbed in and turned the siren on blissfully unaware of the rope attached to her bumper. She quickly drove off.

Mayor Anton awoke with a start and suddenly, his bed crashed through the big window in his room with him in it. As Whos came out of their homes they watched as the mayor slid past on his bed. As the sheriff made a turn around the Christmas tree in the middle of town, the Mayor's bed slid around and came to an abrupt stop.

The sheriff stepped out of her car and stopped as she noticed the mayor. "Mayor May-Who?"

The mayor quickly jumped out of bed and pulled on his robe that was luckily still attached to the bed. He looked around noticing the damage. He frowned. "I wonder who could have done this," he said as he noticed Emile and their family come into view. "I'll tell you one thing: Invite the Grinch destroy Christmas." He raised his hands and beat on his bed. "Invite the Grinch destroy Christmas!!" He paused to take a breath and Emile frowned. "But did anyone, anyone listen to me?"

"I did!" The mayor's assistant piped in but the mayor ignored him.

"No. You choose to listen to a little not-to-be-taken-seriously child. And they haven't even grown into their nose yet." Anton shook his head. "Emile, I hope you're very proud of what you have done." With that, the mayor turned around.

Emile frowned and looked down as tears welled in their eyes.

"If they aren't, then I am!”

Mayor Anton turned around to see Patton, Emile's dad, and Logan, their father had stepped in front of them. "What?" He asked, not sure if he had heard correctly.

"I said, if they aren't, then I am. I'm glad he took our presents."

Who's around all gasped as the Mayor gawked at them. "You're glad? He's glad!" The mayor shouted to the crowd. "You're glad that everything is gone.? You're glad the Grinch virtually wrecked…? No, no. Not wrecked, pulverized Christmas. Is that really what I'm hearing?"

Patton sighed. "You can't hurt Christmas, Mr. Mayor. It's not about the gifts, or contests or the fancy lights." He turned and gestured to Emile who's face showed hopefulness.

"That's what Emile has been trying to tell everybody. "

The mayor blinked. "What is wrong with you!?! This is a child!"

Patton pulled Emile close against his side. "They're my child. They happen to by right by the way." Patton turned towards his family. "I don't need anything more for Christmas than what's right here, my family."

The Who's all erupted into cheers and began telling each other Merry Christmas. Emile smiled brightly. They finally understood. Logan grabbed a hold of Patton's robe. "Merry Christmas honey!" He yanked Patton into a kiss. Missy and Pranks covered their mouths like they were going to be sick as they moved away from their parents.

"Give me a break!" The mayor cried out as he turned away.

Meanwhile, Emile was looking up at Mount Crumpit before they moved to find a garbage chute. "No one should be alone on Christmas," they whispered as the hit the side and started their ride to the top of the mountain.

❄🎅🎄❄🎅🎄❄🎅🎄❄🎅🎄❄🎅🎄❄

Everything Taglist: @spxced-oxt @superwholocked-for-life @mirror2thespirit @aroundofapplesauce @lyditist @little-euro-girl @unicornofdarknessstuff @maryann-draws

The Emo Who Stole Christmas Taglist: @logical-princey @mostpeopleannoyne

May I suggest listening to this song as mom or you know @ icequeenoriginal showed it to me saying this is how extra Roman is singing the song and I quite agree.

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paraclete0407 · 3 years

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Feel like Du Fu dreaming of the distant capital Chang’an; ‘liang-zi’ in rain or so. Money burns, houses burn - diamonds burn. ‘Do not harm the wine and oil.’ People don’t even think about An Lushan Civil War and IDK if I read fake history but f-cking Hail Satan / Moloch (’Eat, Lord!’ - Salammbo) from what I read; this world; these men; ‘A Dish of Peaches in Russia.’ Can’t wait to get tortured by K-mafia in all the pornographic violation-vectors pleasures of which I investigated over the years dept. of Purgatory(?). Sing infernal muse of orgasm-hunting and desperately personal inward contractionist odysseys; I rem. thinking ‘220K Belgian breast-implants,’ it looked like my piano-teacher’s house; Knausgaard is like ‘Time for Everything.’ I wrote ‘Success Kid Soup’ where SAmchon / Sammo is writing his Salterian gratitude-journals teaching Hyomin abt. James Salter, then, ‘final eloquence(?) of Jane Austen scholarship.

I rem. once sleeping at Lake Park in car thinking PCH slept in cars to keep from being degen. but ppl thought I was battering old men at Children’s Grand Park or smashing up one of my favorite girls with a flashlight(!?) - it’s not even true.

‘Do you know The Death of Ivan Ilyich,’ midnight gardens, but at this time in my life I felt I had no real program. My only ‘take’ was if you want to talk about DoII let’s sincerely talk about it but then IDK what women ‘intend.’ Plasma-cannons, alien antennae; a while back I thought about ‘Holdings’ only there appears to be a baptism of fire in some sense or other. I rem. psychoticization of Barry Hannah, GnR prophecies, is he burying or disinterring the AK-74. The song from the untranslatable SF global HumDev drama where they married IRL then divorced, some Frenchman,... sexually awaken this! - that song is like... I went on Wikipedia reading about kamikaze, ‘liberty,’ bomb-interception w/ Type-0, fact that some Japanese really weren’t lip-lick daddy-daughter fake paternal colonialists (i believe) b/c a few JP probably detected Perry’s lip-lick, ShiShi, knock knock wakizahi Heaven’s Judgment to mental Cho Kuks(?) - Koreans understand Iwo Jima Lt. Gen b/c these are sacred bloodlines

I rem. ‘when Black girls love them some white boys’ - great! I just regret ever saying anything like TW-1 French tips it’s retarded, now abideth the face, the brows, the destiny of Woman,

XJP probably knows all this; extend question, how to show / teach world..

‘I appreciated’... ‘Expectation’... Smoothie Kng FroYo Bella...

IDK why I feel like saying all this now; I bought a watch-head for like 50 ollars that later got humidified, the watch-repairman’s grip was excellent, but these peple are just not my constituents because at bottom they’re AmKor AAPI Twitter ‘PS always hated you’ reactionary tribalists so rape me my friend! Leave me alone! I liked ‘Beautiful Goodbye’ but as for the ‘Taeyeon suicide countdown types’ if you really wanted ‘My way your way anything goes tonight’ stimulation can I rip out your fingernails upside down hang baseball bat - it cost less than Six Flags and make more ‘individual special’ story. It’s not wrong to torture, ‘better to marry than to burn’ and better to hydroelectrocute, waterboard, shortchain, airplane, than spew infernal lies. Confucius ‘If you love your son beat him’ - I wanna beat myself, IDK if I was right or wrong but smashed ‘Ryan’ with softcover workbook 2011, different time, also turned out he was set up / falsely accused by James so I became one of those ‘ppl that made ppl hate all teachers / system / Caucasians’ - legal, other ppl were toe-kicking to back of knee and stuff. My colleague asked the English for ‘corporal punishment’ I said ‘physical punishment’ b/c ‘corporal’ is mil. rank and ‘corporeal’ is Catholic oceanic concept. Other ppl at that hagwon were like ‘cartoons, puns, I am “woke” and exprienced instructor, circumspect, every so often hurl lethal objects at children’ - later he said stuff like ‘pimping Incheon,’ real estate license, Canada. ‘Korea’s got some growing up to do, libertarianism, a million year patrimony of Canadian nationhood.’ Pornhub, Hushmail, greed-immigration-laws. I said ‘You’re the butler from Kazuo Ishiguro’ but why say anything these ppl are nail-paring... David’s harlotry, how to cancel you, fake dream, no depth of instructional design or whole school architecture, not even dream, not even waiting... Sad! I remember Jordan Peterson calling Tinkerbell ‘the porn fairy’ I like Soshi’s ‘Tinkerbell’ from the press-motif and its echo of Emerson’s notion of the ‘scholar of one candle’ I’m not pro-pornography I just have Catholicistic aesthetics

Now I remember ‘David’ who wanted a card and considered the ‘Fnal Word’ summative statement possibilities of a mechanical pencil. But in the future everyone already understands everything. I remember later filing away what I had taken to be perfunctory observations based on students’ testimony such as ES = parents; MS =friends HS = [TD Jakes sermon + purposes + future spouse etc.]... My friend said sth, I get super-sick of sharing anything with anyone + fret that all my ‘good deeds’ are being rewarded in this world. Sica’s ‘Gravity’ cover. I just no longer understand Korean; Brooks Brothers as white supremacist(?). LJH is like ‘walking straight up to Heaven.’ Condescending-Canada-1 on my 26th birthday was talking about ‘meting you again’ story-ideas; I had a ‘hen could fly’-esque story idea about deer or ‘hart’ and ducks but in retrospect symbolic thinking, who cares. ‘that has expelled us and our images (Stevens’...

Picture of A.S. Lizzie particolor sweater Cheonggyeoncheon; New Order ‘Regret,’ Thatcher era, all these English ‘God wot Warhammer 40K’ retreat in to expressive Imperium that seems condition of fiction but is actually ‘potential prophecy’ or future certainty-world. It was ‘Regret,’ Singapore, but the 40K people were satisfied w/ their lives and Thatcher that I know wasn’t executing them or corralling in to work-camps just saying [make do with less?]...

I wanted to Western fencing and ended up w/ saber/re, in the late 1990s WJC dispatched cops with MP-5′s in order to extradite or return Cuban refugee-boy to his communist homeland; coach is saying ‘Nazi.’ Did Castro threaten terror or was it just child-sacrifice. Later my HS achieved prominence in female saber but honestly, games, toys, fake progress, fake hope, IDC don’t touch me. I later took interest in epee, San-E ‘Feminist,’ my dad said a smart comment about ‘dissonance’ but it is still ‘representations.’ It’s Madonna ‘Holiday.’

‘Seulgi didn’t touch flowers b/c harm them’ - Pearl Buck ‘Living Reed.’ ~ ‘harm not the Earth.’ Gym avoid, just run or work or sth. Insane veterinarian bodybuilder ‘meat digestion enzyme - eat many animals as possible.’ ‘Isolation exercise’ - ev1 wants to believe this brililant then they spent like 3000000 dollars on gov’t money on SF training then they are ‘vastus medialis.’ I like ‘Say something nice about Seulgi’ - it’s like ES.

Feel like what should I confess, my very fav. student, ‘the one who could be anything, whose parents maybe gave her ‘open class.’ What is someone like that to do?

I used to drive down Capitol seeing Black people thinking ‘God’s chosen’ or so but didn’t feel compelled to add or contribute anything to them as they had a special destiny. ‘Where do I take this love?’ Everyone wants to adopt everyone, I believe it monstrous, oppose, veto. ‘Teach me the way’ - it’s grooming, pederasty. I rem. ‘This Is Love’ and two words that mean ‘already.’ My old poem about S’hai-1 and ‘South of the Border West of the Sun.’ Even more now channeling ‘Evr’y Hour,’ seeing Genghis Khan books at BN,’ Beolsseo arasseo.’ I admire out-of-time rubato things, Spengler characterizing the Greco-Roman culture-soul as ‘andante.’ HUFS-1 is ‘Andante Spianato,’ ‘planing.’ I knew her hometown but she’s not my girl so. I know no other piece with a ‘spianato’ direction. No one plays this piece to my satisfaction it’s more Chopin monster-magic. I liked ‘Forgefuness’ by Hart Crane in a way but weird dreams with Crane like a gelatinous turkey b/c hat is so great abt being homosexual and brilliant(?). Power without responsibility, conceit. There were these word-jump-around-page poems from Strand books that I wrote with great joy-generation in HS but after that decided it was madness, mental illness. Square poem, piano reduction of insanity-pop-music, cancel manic depression. Later tried sonnet, tangci, sijo. I like ‘sobriety, staidness.’ ‘Letters to Auratus’ more of my writing tutoring / literary agency abt. what are you trying to convey with ASLS, surrogacy, Heideggerian being-towards-death, dying life. I get it - for a time I always said ‘I see what you’re saying.’ Purity, remembrance. But IDK if Auratus knows or doesn’t know b/c ‘Can’t I lie?’ Maybe it is other people’s pathos. Surrogacy, chaebol, AI knows I like HK3 a lot but in retrospect... I had the phrase ‘autumn settlings.’ Old man waiting for his son, mitigation, train to Cheonan with this grief-blind woman or sth, are you looking at me? My nose is not Jung Woosung’s nose. I forgot the zeitgeists from past dramas; I ban them anyway. ‘The Charm of Department Stores.’

‘Roads Not Taken’ or so is a book about the Vietnam War; who wrote the last word on the Vietnam War? I felt it strange that they make monthly magazines about the past; this transport with American soldiers very washed. Vietnam has huge butterflies. ‘Soldier’s Wives’ ~ ‘This is her taste,’ Chris Kyle’s wife but it’s still like LBSDBS. I remember reading the Mutual Assured Destruction guy’s theory f ‘Faustian peoples’ or so (not Spengler’s idea of all the West as Faustian-outward-historiographical+ ut sth different), my fav. K-film has always been AMFL; I started remembering ‘Insa,’ feeling autumn golden leaves thrown up by the passing SUV fall through my body. These words mean many things and in past I took words in mouth I should keep to myself and wish to hear rather than say or wish to mull rather than flaunt... (once Grahame Greene squalor-lord met the Pope who said ‘But I’m already Catholic’ - dept. of apologetics v. present prophecy, discernment, reality-betterment). I want to tell my most demonic sex-trafficking hallucinations like hole-in-heart zombies racism pineapple pizza, paint the apartment - this was ‘nesting.’ ‘Reflections.’ Auratus was talking of the F-22 which I wanted to tell him that’s not the fastest plane by a longshot, today too I think evth is Satan electric fields and drones thrust-vectoring is a huge toy but IDK what IDK. I wished to send all F-22′s to Kor, I used to nickname this girl XB-70; I thought I was once the little escort just there to film the test or sth. KJAD rapidly improved, the shrimp whale dolphin thing vanished. Creatures. There were scramjets and that reverse dive-bombing where you climb, thrust-weight ratio, ‘arabesque.’ I used to deliberately mar my English and say ‘I think it’s good idea’ and ‘good form.’

F-22, I feel like USA trashed their whole continent and now can’t even give good motor-vehicle?

Memories of KJY, ‘Black is beautiful?’ Wilberforce. ‘Confucianism is all about the phallus(?!).’ YOU help them dept. of Maoist time-bomb. I’ll g to Somalia, Eritrea, one day. I know these kids have special promise; I too would take measures to make them cute and loveable. ‘Social form.’ I love Paul Washer - ‘porn = unloving heart’ - kneel before father... but they need good police; I don’t own firearms; I don’t like to exaggerate. Like in 2012 Doomsday in the end Africa becomes the center o human civilization... I read King Leopold’s Ghost; there was a Georgian Southerner at Beauty School so I got mad at started talking about Gen. Sherman burning down his home turf. Believe in severity; I wanted to help them but they’re so sure they know sth but they’ve been exploding-heart-ing me since like MS; it’s part of why I just wanted to live in Redlands and write in the office ‘cause I know what they think; my name is like a Confederate general, IDK my own past, supposedly teetotaling Union officer who burned his uniform. Tory anti-belief-niks... Let’s talk about Myeongnyang, sacrifice, simplicity, the other thing if adult job-opportunities I guess b/c I know all about being educated but underemployed but I’m not Biden; what job can I create? Just tell them I’ve lived less than I say I’ve lived; ‘creative writing.’ I never made it to Busan, what’s in Busan? Shanghai never made it. Let’s talk about ‘10,000 Sorrows,’ abandonment, slavery, honor-killing, church abuses. Jazz is neither here nor there that I can tell; body-image. Who’s the most important person in the world today? What’s God’s will or me? Just delete my family name? Of course I like ‘Deep River’ - ‘ugly and destructive’ slavery. ‘My Soul’s Been Anchored in the Lord.’ They think I‘m the mark / easy money / sue for punitive damages but I think they’re the marks, ‘maybe so.’ Korea’s not inlating min.-wage; wanna talk about Ralph Ellison, Toni Morrison, James Baldwin. I know a bit about Baldwinian sin-eating like ‘I tell you all my dirty secrets then pretend I didn’t’ - it’s called US mental healthcare system. I like that poem about the pimp but this poet also shout his mouth off talkig about firing in to crowds of protesters. ‘Fire Next Time.’ With Covid it could well be; I was telling ex-friend about how there would just be tanks on the street again but I have come to believe I was reading the future by past. I used to bodybuild in college and eat fish oil every 2 hours so this girl who loves Taeyang saw my fish oils and started crying since she thought they were steroids; ultra-beautiful,Bo probably / hopefully flourishing, modified spelling of the name that means ‘revelation of God.’ But Snoop? Cardi? Does their ethos or way of war ever ever ever prevail? Bonhoeffer learned from the Black church; I loved his poem about feeling strangled in prison. I wanna raze Milwaukee and build them reasonable apartments with study-desks and stuff; their neighborhoods have a soothing energy. Someone a deacde back was eating with African-African national leaders who confided, ‘Our whole continent doesn’t have enough wisdom.’ Koreans were buying up farmland in Africa. I was sad b/c I felt I had a chance; I checked some vaccine-info. now it’s just like in Uieongbu DJJ is some kind of bio-terrorist. I was fond of DC Sua’s ‘Copycat’ although I backed from all that because it’s infinitely misinterpretable; I thought about ‘Love Only Me,’ now I am like ‘Love Someone Else.’ I felt as if this ought to be a lenten penitent ‘reduced circumstances’ era in remembrance of numerous mistakes, going humbly. I liked ‘Don’t Waste Your Life Sentence,’ spring nights. I sometimes feel as if the current POTUS will say all the right things but the drug-laws in past were merciless and what was the point? But that’s Rome and I’ve no portfolio. ‘Henry Fish’ my YAL from 2012 - endless sorries- with his 30-dollar military jackets, taped glasses. ‘Glad and proud to call Obama my president.’ I’ve never voted and don’t intend to except in ‘12 I voted for Obama partly because the psychiatrist and I had a good exchange; now feel that leaving the town hall that ‘pride’ was literal pride, evil, like all these women say, ‘Why would you do that?’ ‘ObaMao.’ I PRC they called him ‘heiren.’ Syria red line ciaccona, Obergefell, strat-patience. End Iraq then suddenly super-massive investment in modernization of nuclear forces, telling EU to pay more for defense - there’s just not gonna be Heaven on Earth & I am never gonna make it to Venus and I really walk round thinking about camping in ex-NK and I do’t mean like the drama But he’s a great man too. ‘Cocaine and cohabitation’ - maybe he really was pace Dreamcatcher beginning of the end, from Hawai’i, ‘From Here to Eternity,’ end of AmCent. His ‘Amazing Grace.’ I said something really obtuse about Bloomberg, Pete Mayor, Biden; a while ago skimmed ‘Lost Victories’ about the Nazi general who drove tanks through forests and stuff, when is going to fall the sword? I liked ‘Beethoven was Black,’ Waldstein-III, and 111 is like ‘massive slave rebellion followed by less-tn-expected final affirmation. IZ*ONE ‘Human Love’ (in respect-mode I call it Ahn Yujin and Jo Yuri ‘Human Love’ b/c they were already breaking up the GG) - I thought it was a great moment; a signature.’ Then the ILY3K, marriage bad, uneducated, omni-prostitution unrestricted war CCP-revanchism exceedingly woke but for all I know I’m just a fake cultural Christian.

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sophhhhh-harris · 7 years

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self love

Wiping away my tears, taking deep breaths. Telling myself to breathe while i walk into the other room, my mom and dad sitting side by side staring at me with curiosity and concern. I could feel my pulse threw my fingertips as I sat down with chills being shot down my spine. The fear I had expressed on my face was the equivalent to a deer in headlights. The tears nearly started to come back once again and my father asked me whats wrong. I looked at him in the eye and then my mother and said the two words that turned my whole world upside down, “I’m gay.” To see my dad sink his head into his hands and the look of disgust quickly take over my mother's face, broke me. I tried to take it back I tried to apologize for what I said but it was too late, the damage was done. My mother used to look at me with pride. Happy to call me her daughter. Almost 2 years later and I haven't seen that look since, and the perfect home I once lived in was lost forever. I never felt so much regret in my life. I prayed for days for just those two words to be erased from the existence. I wanted God himself to come down and tell me what to do. I didn’t know where to go from there. I thought my heart would stop beating so fast but it felt like it stopped completely. I felt lost in my own head, letting my own thoughts slowly drain me until I wanted to give up completely. I hated every second of that day and I hated every inch of myself. I convinced myself that I was some type of monster, that I was the problem as if I came into the house like a level 5 twister ripping the paint off the walls and the happiness from the souls that lived within it. The air felt so thin as if it was high altitude, but really it was the thoughts consuming my head so much that my brain forgot to tell my lungs to breathe. My family didn’t agree with it and wanted to see if they could “fix” me. I thought they were right at first, maybe there is a way to fix this, to make me better. As if I was mentally ill or apart of an epidemic that was put across this generation. But one day I took a deep breath and realized, there’s nothing to fix. That what I felt wasn't wrong, the only thing I was wrong about was feeling the need for approval from anyone other than myself. I wasn’t mentally ill this wasn’t an epidemic that was being spread across me or anyone else for the only thing it was spreading was acceptance. The story of a girl who accepted herself more and more everyday after that.

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thecathyguadagnino · 7 years

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★•**•.★New Cover Reveal ★•**•.★ #CoverReveal #Destroyed #LGrubb #AbigailDavies #Dark #Romance Title: Destroying the Soul Series: Destroyed Series #2 Authors: L. Grubb & Abigail Davies Cover Designer: Clarissa Wild Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/33965413-destroying-the-soul?ac=1&from_search=true Synopsis: I’m a man with a troubled past. Growing up with a drug addict for a mother and trying to be both mom and dad for my little brother was hard, but I was determined for him to make something of himself, to help get him in the best college out there and get him away from the hellhole we call home; even if it took everything in me. The plan was to make my business legit and make some real money so I could make sure he had everything he needed. I was on a one track mission, bounding ahead with tunnel vision. That was until her. Until I saw her sweet face behind the counter of the coffee shop and suddenly, I had another focus. She had an aura of sadness about her that drew me in. Her softly spoken words made me wish I could listen to her all day long. I made it my mission to make her smile whenever I got the chance to see her. The invisible thread that connected us started getting smaller and smaller as time went on, bringing us closer than I’d ever been to anyone before. At least, I thought we were close. I had no idea that she was suffering at the hands of a monster. A monster who did everything he could to keep me from her. He ripped me away from her when she needed me the most and I was powerless to fight against the law, even if I didn’t break it. My life was turned upside down and the worst of it was leaving her without getting to tell her how I really felt. I never once forgot about our connection and when I finally got out of prison and went to check on my Ivy League brother, I never expected to see her there. I knew it would be hard to explain why I just up and left without a word, but I never thought it would be near impossible to even talk to her, to explain that I didn’t even have a choice in leaving. Then he turns up, the monster that haunts her memories. I won’t let him keep me away from her again and I certainly won’t let him hurt her. I’ll do anything to protect her. Torture, maim, kill. And I’ll do it all without a second thought or conscience. Other Books in the Series: Destroying the Game Amazon: MyBook.to/DestroyingtheGame iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1183915761 Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/destroying-the-game Page Foundry: http://bit.ly/2gIAvmx Scribd: https://www.scribd.com/book/332792702/Destroying-the-Game B&N: http://bit.ly/2i6aq2H About the Authors: L. Grubb: Lucii is your typical British girl, hates the sun and hibernates when summer arrives! She lives at home with her 3 year old daughter, where they spend the day watching Frozen and playing playdoh. She started off as a regular person, job, home life, health issues and a love of reading. After reading the Fifty shade phenomenon, she went onto social media to seek other authors writing the same or similar genres. She entered a world she didn’t know existed and went on to open a successful blog. Inspiring dreams took a back burner while she learned the book community and met a bunch of amazing authors and readers alike. A year later she decided to start writing, hoping against hope that her friends and fellow readers will like what she brings to the table. Author Links: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/lucii-grubb/390555987809881 Twitter: https://twitter.com/l_grubbauthor1 Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14143582.l_grubb Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/2gAedVb Instagram: https://instagram.com/luciigrubb_90/ Newsletter sign up: http://eepurl.com/bWnlAH Abigail Davies: New Adult and Contemporary romance author Abigail Davies grew up with a passion for words, story telling and anything pink. Dreaming up characters and talking to them out loud is a daily occurrence for Abigail. She finds it fascinating how a whole world can be built with words alone, and how everyone reads a story differently. Now following her dreams of writing, Abigail has set out on the crazy journey of being an author. When she’s not writing, she’s a mother to two daughters, who she encourages to use their imagination, as she believes that it’s a magical thing. Abigail loves to get lost in a good book and is rarely far away from her kindle. Author Links: Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/abigaildaviesauthor/?fref=ts Twitter: https://twitter.com/abigailadavies Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/abigaildaviesauthor/ Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15275619.Abigail_Davies Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/2fnO5rv

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thecathyguadagnino · 7 years

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