Eddie’s Words

[RoyalBeeMage he/him]

5 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

GUYS I NEED A DECISION

DO I PUT LIZ IN A VERY TOXIC RELATIONSHIP WITH ANOTHER ASSASSIN

WHO SHE’LL LATER MURDER

OR DO I KEEP HER TRUE TO IEN

or do I make her PRETEND to love the other dude so that she can kill him

WHAT DO I DOOOOOOOOOOO @Anguished_One @Weaver of Lies @RoyalBeeMage @Just a Silvereye @The Wandering Wizard

pretend so that she can get closer to the assassin to kill him!

[Just a Silvereye he/him]

14 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

GUYS I NEED A DECISION

DO I PUT LIZ IN A VERY TOXIC RELATIONSHIP WITH ANOTHER ASSASSIN

WHO SHE’LL LATER MURDER

OR DO I KEEP HER TRUE TO IEN

or do I make her PRETEND to love the other dude so that she can kill him

WHAT DO I DOOOOOOOOOOO @Anguished_One @Weaver of Lies @RoyalBeeMage @Just a Silvereye @The Wandering Wizard

I really like Weaver's idea of having Liz pretending to herself she loves him, then realizing she's actually doing that to forget what she feels for Ien.

Or realizing she didn't love the assassin, what she loved was abusing him. Or realizing both of those things at the same time.

Alternatively, you could have her really love both Ien and her assassin, then gaslighting herself into thinking she didn't love the assassin after having to kill him.

Anyway, I know that

13 hours ago, Weaver of Lies said:

 whatever you come up with will be amazing, no matter what route you take.

 

[Edema Rue she/her]

5 hours ago, Just a Silvereye said:

what she loved was abusing him

WAIT THATS REALLY GOOD

THATS REALLY REALLY GOOD

hehehehehehehehee

[Cash67 Where’s/Perry]

I vote for drama and death. But whatever you choose will probably include those so I’m gonna be content no matter where the story goes 

[Edema Rue she/her]

On 6/19/2024 at 10:49 PM, Edema Rue said:

Heehee

I don’t have a ton right now but here’s a lil baby scene from right after Liz left the Academy…I’ll write more of it at some point

First:

  Reveal hidden contents

Liz shivered, pressing against the dirty wall of the alley as if it would help keep the rain off her. Not for the first time, thoughts of her room at the Academy filled her mind. While far from comfortable, it had been a roof over her head. She’d give almost anything to have that back.

She stiffened at the sound of footsteps on mud. Privacy. There was another thing to miss. She shifted further in the shadows, reaching for anything she could use as a weapon. Her hand closed around half a brick as a man tottered into the alley.

He stank of beer and urine. His eyes were glazed as they glanced around, but they still landed on her. He grinned, and Liz shivered harder. 

“Hey there, pretty,” he crooned. “All alone, are yeh?”

“Get back,” Liz growled, trying to sound dangerous instead of terrified. Her voice cracked. 

“Or what, girl?” The man’s lip curled, revealing about 5 rotted teeth. He stumbled closer, brushing rainwater off his face. His grin widened as Liz squirmed, and he reached out, grabbing her arm. Almost reflexively, she swung with her other arm, which still carried the brick.

He fell back, dazed. A trickle of blood made its way down his forehead. Liz’s mind seemed to blur. She didn’t remember getting up. She didn’t remember wanting to hurt him. But she remembered swinging again, and again, and again. She remembered the exact moment his eyes went dark. 

She remembered leaning back in shock and horror.

She had never killed before.

That night and the next day continued to blur. She knew that she ran far from their alley. She knew that she threw up more than once, until she had nothing in her stomach and could only heave painfully.

She remembered sitting against a wall and thinking, Ien would never love a murderer. Then she thought, I don’t have to tell him. Then, I miss him. With a fresh burst of horror, Liz realized that the thought of never seeing him again hurt more than the thought that she had ended a life. 

She started having dreams. Liz never dreamed at night; her father had once told her it was because she spent so much time dreaming while awake. But now she dreamed every night. She couldn’t call them nightmares. They were much too pleasant for that. She couldn’t always remember them, but the emotion was there. 

Longing so strong it was almost hunger.

Control so complete it was nearly intoxicating.

She saw the man die, again and again and again. Each time was more brutal. Each time it became less of a reaction and more of a choice, until she started to attack him before he even grabbed her.

Several times, she woke calling Ien’s name.

Liz wasn’t sure when she decided that she was going to kill again. Between one night and the next, she knew. She’d done it once, and now she needed more. So she took it.

She wasn’t particularly strong or fast, and her “skill” with blades was laughable. But by the stars, she was clever. She chose her victims. She chose the time and place. None of it should have worked. But it did, and each kill left her a little more sickened, and a little more hungry. 

It was an unholy hour of the morning when they found her. Liz was huddled under a tattered blanket on an inconsequential roof. The streets, she was learning, were a dangerous place. She didn’t hear footsteps. She didn’t see anyone coming towards her.

She did, however, feel the blow that knocked her unconscious.

 

Oki guys, here's the scene I promised! It's actually the rest of this scene, Liz blacks out and then this happens. 

First (part 2):

Spoiler

When Liz awoke, she was dry. That was the first thing she noticed, before she even opened her eyes. When had she last been dry? Then she opened her eyes. She was in a cell. A clean cell. So it wasn’t the city watch. 

Three of the walls were stone. The fourth was a set of bars, and on the other side was a figure in a deep black cloak. Liz pressed her back into the wall. A laugh echoed from the figure, and he flipped back his hood to reveal a rather stunning young man.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he said, as if he were trying to comfort her. “Might have to hurt you, though.” 

A valiant effort, Liz thought wryly. Siylna would have laughed. Once, Liz might have too. But that was before she knew what fear was. “What do you want?” She snapped. Or tried to. Her voice came out much breathier than she intended. She hated how terrified she sounded. She hated it. She hated that he could hear her sound afraid. For a brief moment, she wasn’t sure who she hated more: him, or herself.

“It’s not what I want,” he said, the corner of his lip twitching up into a smirk. “But my business with you is simple. My master has an opportunity for you.”

Liz blinked. “What if I’m not interested?”

He laughed. It was high and cold and cruel. “I think you misunderstand. This isn’t a choice.” She flinched, and her hate grew as he laughed again. “You don’t look like much,” he said, “that’s for sure. How old are you, girl?”

“16,” Liz said, lying without hesitation. She’d always had a slight frame, and her days on the streets had made her much thinner.

He snorted. “14 at best.” Liz’s shock wasn’t entirely false, but it seemed to delight him more as he misunderstood it. “You’ll learn that you can’t lie to an assassin.”

Liz cocked her head, abruptly curious. Abruptly hungry. “Assassin?” 

He flipped out a dagger, twirling it effortlessly between his fingers. “Afraid?”

Liz shrugged. Terrified. “Is that your…opportunity?”

He scowled at her. “My master will explain when he arrives.”

Strangely emboldened, Liz eyed him flatly. “And when will that be?” She stood and crossed to the bars. "Stop playing games."

His hand snaked out and grabbed her shirt, pulling her forward so fast that she gasped. “You will learn,” he hissed, “to respect our master.” Liz tried to pull back, but his arm may as well have been stone for all that it budged. “You will learn,” he repeated, pressing his cold knife to her cheek, “your place.” Liz shrieked and struggled harder, but suddenly his arm was behind her neck, holding her in place as he sliced a deep, jagged line up her cheekbone. She began to scream. His grin widened. 

Then the door swung open, and through it walked a tall man in fine clothing. Liz barely noticed him. “Byrd,” the new man said calmly, and the assassin immediately released her, kneeling with his head bowed. Liz stumbled back. “What is the meaning of this?”

“She was disrespecting you, my Lord,” Byrd said. His voice had changed completely; now he was the picture of a humble servant. 

“I see.” The noble nodded thoughtfully, then turned to Liz. “I apologize for Byrd,” he said sincerely. “My assassins are deeply loyal. Disrespect in this house is unacceptable. Do you understand?” Liz nodded, again pushed against the wall. This was all wrong. What was she doing here? She was a scholar, not a killer. 

“Good, then,” the noble said, smiling kindly. As he did, Liz noticed he looked shockingly familiar. Had she seen him before? She knew his face, knew it far more personally than if she’d just seen him from afar. “Byrd, you may rise.” The assassin stood, moving to guard the door as the noble gave Liz his full attention. He frowned at her cheek, pulling out a handkerchief. “You’d best stop that bleeding.”

Liz didn’t move, instead ripping off a patch of her tattered coat and pressing it to the wound. 

The man sighed. “I assure you, I only mean to help. But I understand that it may take some time for you to learn to trust me.” He coughed softly, tucking the handkerchief back into a pocket. “I am Lord Marsvall.”

Liz stiffened at the name. Every muscle inside her tensed. This was Ien’s father. This was the man he feared more than anyone else.

This man was the reason she was forbidden to be with her love.

Indirectly, this man was the reason for her bet.

Somewhere inside her, an idea sparked and began to form. It was hazy. It was bloody. But it was beautiful.

Marsvall smiled. “You know the name? Good. Tell me, have you killed before?” Liz choked. Her eyes flitted around the room, from Byrd’s scalding gaze to Marsvall’s kind one to the flickering torch and everything in between. “It’s all right,” he said consolingly. “We aren’t going to judge you. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

Liz took a breath. She was a scholar. She was a killer. She was a gambler, and she had a bet to win. “Yes,” she whispered. 

Marsvall smiled. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Liz shook her head, and he smiled again. It was like he was talking to…oh. He thinks he’s talking to a child. I suppose I can use that. “Did you enjoy it?”

Liz trembled harder. It was almost as if by pretending to be more afraid than she was, her fear faded. “Yes.”

Marsvall’s smile deepened. “And would you like to kill again?”

“Yes.”

“Then perhaps,” he said, “you’ll enjoy what I can offer you.”

 

[Just a Silvereye he/him]

11 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

Oki guys, here's the scene I promised! It's actually the rest of this scene, Liz blacks out and then this happens. 

First (part 2):

  Reveal hidden contents

When Liz awoke, she was dry. That was the first thing she noticed, before she even opened her eyes. When had she last been dry? Then she opened her eyes. She was in a cell. A clean cell. So it wasn’t the city watch. 

Three of the walls were stone. The fourth was a set of bars, and on the other side was a figure in a deep black cloak. Liz pressed her back into the wall. A laugh echoed from the figure, and he flipped back his hood to reveal a rather stunning young man.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he said, as if he were trying to comfort her. “Might have to hurt you, though.” 

A valiant effort, Liz thought wryly. Siylna would have laughed. Once, Liz might have too. But that was before she knew what fear was. “What do you want?” She snapped. Or tried to. Her voice came out much breathier than she intended. She hated how terrified she sounded. She hated it. She hated that he could hear her sound afraid. For a brief moment, she wasn’t sure who she hated more: him, or herself.

“It’s not what I want,” he said, the corner of his lip twitching up into a smirk. “But my business with you is simple. My master has an opportunity for you.”

Liz blinked. “What if I’m not interested?”

He laughed. It was high and cold and cruel. “I think you misunderstand. This isn’t a choice.” She flinched, and her hate grew as he laughed again. “You don’t look like much,” he said, “that’s for sure. How old are you, girl?”

“16,” Liz said, lying without hesitation. She’d always had a slight frame, and her days on the streets had made her much thinner.

He snorted. “14 at best.” Liz’s shock wasn’t entirely false, but it seemed to delight him more as he misunderstood it. “You’ll learn that you can’t lie to an assassin.”

Liz cocked her head, abruptly curious. Abruptly hungry. “Assassin?” 

He flipped out a dagger, twirling it effortlessly between his fingers. “Afraid?”

Liz shrugged. Terrified. “Is that your…opportunity?”

He scowled at her. “My master will explain when he arrives.”

Strangely emboldened, Liz eyed him flatly. “And when will that be?” She stood and crossed to the bars. "Stop playing games."

His hand snaked out and grabbed her shirt, pulling her forward so fast that she gasped. “You will learn,” he hissed, “to respect our master.” Liz tried to pull back, but his arm may as well have been stone for all that it budged. “You will learn,” he repeated, pressing his cold knife to her cheek, “your place.” Liz shrieked and struggled harder, but suddenly his arm was behind her neck, holding her in place as he sliced a deep, jagged line up her cheekbone. She began to scream. His grin widened. 

Then the door swung open, and through it walked a tall man in fine clothing. Liz barely noticed him. “Byrd,” the new man said calmly, and the assassin immediately released her, kneeling with his head bowed. Liz stumbled back. “What is the meaning of this?”

“She was disrespecting you, my Lord,” Byrd said. His voice had changed completely; now he was the picture of a humble servant. 

“I see.” The noble nodded thoughtfully, then turned to Liz. “I apologize for Byrd,” he said sincerely. “My assassins are deeply loyal. Disrespect in this house is unacceptable. Do you understand?” Liz nodded, again pushed against the wall. This was all wrong. What was she doing here? She was a scholar, not a killer. 

“Good, then,” the noble said, smiling kindly. As he did, Liz noticed he looked shockingly familiar. Had she seen him before? She knew his face, knew it far more personally than if she’d just seen him from afar. “Byrd, you may rise.” The assassin stood, moving to guard the door as the noble gave Liz his full attention. He frowned at her cheek, pulling out a handkerchief. “You’d best stop that bleeding.”

Liz didn’t move, instead ripping off a patch of her tattered coat and pressing it to the wound. 

The man sighed. “I assure you, I only mean to help. But I understand that it may take some time for you to learn to trust me.” He coughed softly, tucking the handkerchief back into a pocket. “I am Lord Marsvall.”

Liz stiffened at the name. Every muscle inside her tensed. This was Ien’s father. This was the man he feared more than anyone else.

This man was the reason she was forbidden to be with her love.

Indirectly, this man was the reason for her bet.

Somewhere inside her, an idea sparked and began to form. It was hazy. It was bloody. But it was beautiful.

Marsvall smiled. “You know the name? Good. Tell me, have you killed before?” Liz choked. Her eyes flitted around the room, from Byrd’s scalding gaze to Marsvall’s kind one to the flickering torch and everything in between. “It’s all right,” he said consolingly. “We aren’t going to judge you. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

Liz took a breath. She was a scholar. She was a killer. She was a gambler, and she had a bet to win. “Yes,” she whispered. 

Marsvall smiled. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Liz shook her head, and he smiled again. It was like he was talking to…oh. He thinks he’s talking to a child. I suppose I can use that. “Did you enjoy it?”

Liz trembled harder. It was almost as if by pretending to be more afraid than she was, her fear faded. “Yes.”

Marsvall’s smile deepened. “And would you like to kill again?”

“Yes.”

“Then perhaps,” he said, “you’ll enjoy what I can offer you.”

 

...Wow. I'm terrified now thinking about what will happen next. (Even though, you know, I already kinda know it)

[Just-A-Stick she/her]

On 6/22/2024 at 3:01 PM, Edema Rue said:

GUYS I NEED A DECISION

DO I PUT LIZ IN A VERY TOXIC RELATIONSHIP WITH ANOTHER ASSASSIN

WHO SHE’LL LATER MURDER

OR DO I KEEP HER TRUE TO IEN

or do I make her PRETEND to love the other dude so that she can kill him

WHAT DO I DOOOOOOOOOOO @Anguished_One @Weaver of Lies @RoyalBeeMage @Just a Silvereye @The Wandering Wizard

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

BEAUTIFUL!!!!!!!!!!!

[Edema Rue she/her]

Teeny Liz scene

Telant:

Spoiler

“You,” Siylna said, “are an idiot.”

Liz grinned. “I know.”

Siylna threw her hands in the air. “Then why are you doing it?”

Liz shrugged. “Think how I’ll look if I can actually do it?” Siylna stared at her until Liz finally looked away awkwardly. “I don’t know why I’m doing it.”

“Great.” Siylna rolled her eyes. “You’re going to get yourself killed, and you don’t even know why.”

“It’ll be fun,” Liz said, trying to smirk. Her failure was proven by Siylna’s snort. 

“Lizzy, you’re terrified.”

Liz shrugged again, pulling her shoulders tight as if she could curl into a ball. “Yeah.”

“Then don’t go!”

“I already said I would,” Liz muttered. “It would be embarrassing to everyone if I pulled out now.”

Siylna slapped her. It was so sudden, so sharp, so unexpected that Liz couldn’t respond. She opened her mouth, but Siylna spoke first. “Elizabeth Fae’noan. You are not going to get yourself killed because you’re too embarrassed to admit that there is something you can’t do.”

Liz blinked. Then again. “Elizabeth?”

Siylna winced. “Bad guess?”

“Very.” There was a brief moment of amiable silence, then Liz sighed, leaning back on her lumpy bed to stare at the ceiling of their room. “I want to do it.” She couldn’t see Siylna’s expression, but it wasn’t hard to guess how the other girl felt. “I have to know.”

Siylna sighed softly. The corner of Liz’s mouth twitched as she heard a note of affection. “Know what, Lizzy?”

“I have to know if I can do it.” Liz sat up, meeting Siylna’s pale eyes. “It’s a challenge, Si, and I have to meet it.”

Siylna hesitated for a long moment. Eventually, she sighed. “Fine. I get it. Just don’t be an idiot, okay? More than you already are, that is.”

Liz laughed, surprised by how much her friend’s approval meant to her. “Thanks, Si. I want to see how it changes me. I want see what I become.”

For once, Siylna didn’t respond with levity. “What if it changes you into someone awful?”

Liz thought for a moment. “It’s one trip, Si. I think it’s more likely to kill me than change me so terribly. And if it does…” She shrugged and rested her head on Siylna’s shoulder, playing at sweetness. “I guess I’ll finally understand what it’s like to be you.”

She didn’t even have time to grin before Siylna shoved her off the bed. “I take it back,” she said with a scowl. “You’re already as awful as you can get.” Liz laughed, and Siylna joined her.

“Just be safe, okay?” Liz nodded. “Telant is very different from Arania. They do things differently there.”

Liz eyed her quizzically from the floor. “When did you go to Telant?”

Siylna looked away. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, her voice unusually husky. She coughed, and the strange note of sorrow was gone. “Make sure you do everything the professors tell you to, even if it’s embarrassing.” She glared comically, and Liz snorted. 

After another pause, Liz smiled at her, caught between ruefulness and determination. “I’m going to regret this, aren't I?”

“Yeah,” Siylna said. “Yeah, you are. Every single day, you’ll wonder why you did it, and you’ll hate yourself for it, and wish you’d just listened to me.” She paused. “And once you get back, you’ll say you don’t know what possessed you to do it. You’ll say you were crazy. But once you’re no longer caught in the heat of the moment, you’ll say you were glad you did it. You’ll say it was a good experience. And you’ll be right.”

It was at that moment that Liz realized her mouth was open. Siylna raised an eyebrow, and Liz coughed. “Uh, I…”

“I do have feelings, Lizzy.”

“I…know…” Liz winced. “You usually only act this way in philosophy, is all. It’s…weird to see you care.”

Siylna looked away. “I care about a lot of things, Liz. It’s just easier not to show it. It’s safer. When you don’t let anything into your heart, nothing can break it.”

“It’s lonely, though,” Liz said softly.

“Guess so.”

“Don’t worry, Si. I’m coming back.”

Siylna nodded once, not meeting her eyes. “You better.”

Spoiler

So some context for this.

From what I can tell, Liz got the opportunity to join a diplomatic trip to another kingdom. No one else took it because it’s dangerous, it’s hard, and once you’ve started you can’t stop.

I wrote it because coming up are a lot of things I’ll probably regret but that I’ve chosen to do.

For example…starting July 15th, I’ll be working graveyard shift for 3 1/2 weeks. 8pm-6am.

And of course, in August, school starts. My class load is ridiculous. Every single class I’m in (with the exception of maybe seminary, depending on my teacher) will challenge me. I’ll be in 3 big shows, 2 big competition pieces, and have 2 individual competition pieces, like a scene or monologue. That is on top of my very hard classes. I’m also biking through October. I’m also trying to practice the violin daily and fit in lessons. I’m also on theatre presidency.

The list continues.

But…

I want to do it.

It’s a challenge, see, and I have to rise to meet it.

And if I can do it…if I can maintain that level of motivation and will for an entire year…

Then I can do anything.

I am stronger than my fear, I am stronger than my sadness, and I am more than what my mind tells me to be.

So why not?

Why not try it?

 

[Edema Rue she/her]

No Liz today, but here's something else. I think it turned out really beautiful, I hope you guys enjoy it.

And I promise you all today. Whatever you are going through, whatever secret aches you have inside you, there is hope. I promise you. Hold on. Please, please hold on. Even if it doesn't seem as if you can take even one more breath, try. Just try one. And if you can't do anything but survive tonight, that's why we have tomorrow. The sun rises. You can remember how to laugh. There is always someone on your side. Always. I love you guys so much, and if you need me, ever, I'm here. 

This is Love:

Spoiler

Matt’s smile was as gentle and warm as a worn blanket when he opened the door. Upon seeing her, it faded into something far more serious, but no less loving. “Sera?”

She opened her mouth, but found herself without words. She looked at him desperately.

“Okay,” he said quickly. “It’s okay. Come in.” She did, and he led her into his small kitchen. His guitar was leaned haphazardly against a cabinet, and the table was littered with papers that proudly displayed his messy scrawl. Rather than sitting in a chair, Sera opted to fold herself into an empty corner on the floor. Matt didn’t comment, only handed her a pillow.

Sera took a long breath. Then another. On her third, she started shaking. After her fourth, she whispered, “w-w-w-will you p-p-play f-for me? O-or talk. Or s-s-sing. O-or b-b-both. I–I n-n-n-n-need–” She flinched back from her own words, pressing back into the corner as if she could melt into the walls.

Matt smiled kindly, and again, the world seemed the tiniest bit less frightening. “It starts with a chord,” he murmured, picking up his guitar. “At least, it does for me.” He strummed once, the strings almost dancing beneath his fingers. “I’ll just be playing something, and then I hit the right chord, and it calls to me. So I play it again and again. I write it, and it grows.” He plucked out a melody, beautiful for its unfamiliarity. “Sometimes it wants words. Sometimes it can’t bear them. Sometimes that first chord isn’t even there in the finished product.” He fell silent for a moment, letting the music continue his story.

Sera tried to keep breathing. She was pulled so tight, her arms wrapped around her torso as if to still her pounding heart. She couldn’t loosen her muscles. If she did, there would be cracks in her armor. If she did, something would sneak into those cracks. And her heart was too fragile for that just then.

Matt scribbled something onto a page, then kept playing. “A lot of times, I get through all the work of creating it just to find out it’s worth nothing. It isn’t good enough, isn’t new enough, it isn’t something the outside will understand.” He winked, and Sera felt her lower lip tremble. “Those are the songs I learn to keep just for me.” 

She didn’t know tears could fall so quickly. Or so inexplicably. The harder she tried to think about it, the faster they fell. How warm tears were. You could get burned with that kind of heat. Maybe, Sera mused, the heat came straight from her heart. It flowed out of her ribcage and boiled all the tears that waited to scald her cheeks. Maybe that was why her face turned so red when she cried. It was the heat. She opened her mouth to explain, and all words fell away.

Matt smiled at her so sadly that she wanted to hide her face from him. “I’m going to make some hot chocolate,” he said. “Would you like some?” Sera gave him a tiny nod. He set down his guitar and pulled a pair of mugs from a cupboard. “I like it when the songs need words,” he said, easily flowing back into his speech. Though she didn't have the words to say it, Sera was infinitely grateful. “It’s more work, sure. But when they need words, I get to sing.” He set a steaming glass mug on the floor in front of her, then settled down himself. “Careful. It’s hot.”

He said nothing for nearly a minute as Sera worked up the courage to stretch out her arm and pick it up. It wasn’t nearly as hot as he’d implied. If she could have remembered how to laugh, she would giggled at his folly. She didn’t drink. Just held it, and tried to let the heat flow back into her. All the warmth she'd had inside had dripped out of her eyes. 

Then Matt started singing. Softly at first, and then louder. He sang in a language she didn’t know. But he felt every word, and through his voice Sera could feel it too. She could feel love. She could feel hope. She could feel safety. And she kept crying, because this was the one place in the world where she could feel such things. 

“You,” Matt said, “are the first person in the world to hear that song. Do you like it?” Sera nodded vigorously. “Can you talk yet?” He asked quietly. Sera opened her mouth, determined. Then she closed it. Then she opened it again, and closed it, and shook her head. Another tear fell. “That’s okay,” Matt said. “You’re doing wonderfully, Sera. Would you like me to keep singing?” Sera nodded, and so he did. She drank and watched him. His eyes shone with a light that came from nowhere but within. The eyes, Sera reasoned, must be the truest path to the heart. His heart must be glowing. He had one piece of hair that stuck just slightly out of place. Only it wasn’t out of place, because sticking up was where it was meant to be. It was perfect in its imperfection. Once his voice cracked, and Sera felt another tear fall, because his broken heart was too beautiful for her to bear.

“I’m sorry,” Sera finally whispered. Matt immediately fell silent, looking at her. “I–I know you hate me,” she said. “A-and you don’t have e-enough t-t-time for th-this.”

Matt nodded once, his eyes on the floor. “I won’t say it’s okay, because it isn’t. But I forgive you, Sera. I forgave you last time, and I forgive you this time, and I’ll forgive you next time.”

If Sera had had any last tears squirreled away, they would have fallen then. She stayed still and silent for a startlingly long time. Longer than she knew she could. Then, so quietly that she wasn’t even sure she’d said it out loud, a single sentence escaped her. “I never loved him.”

Matt’s eyes widened. “Sera,” he said. “You don’t need to–”

“I didn’t,” Sera whispered, and Matt was too kind to dare interrupt her, not when she was barely able to speak. “I never loved him, and I left you, and you hate me, and I’m sorry.”

Now Matt fell silent. Sera was trembling, but she clenched her fists. There were words she needed to say. Before she couldn’t do it anymore. “I’m trying to forgive you,” he said. “I can’t, not yet, but I will.” Sera swallowed and nodded. Mat met her eyes carefully. “Can you tell me why? I know that maybe you can’t. And that’s okay. But if you can find the words…why did you do it, Sera?”

Sera blinked away tears that refused to fall. “I…” For a long, long moment, she couldn’t say anything else. Her heart was beating so fast that it rose into her throat and forced back all the words she wanted to say. “I was scared.”

Matt’s face crumpled. “I never wanted to scare you.”

“I know.” And those were all the words Sera had, so she said them again. “I know.” And then, “Th-that’s why I was scared. You didn’t w-want to h-hurt me.” Matt didn’t say anything, so once she could speak again, Sera continued. “I was s-s-scared to l-love you. A-and he was f-f-familiar. H-he was everything I thought that love w-was. And I th-thought he l-l-loved me.”

“Did he?”

“I don’t know,” Sera whispered. “M-maybe. But h-he’s g-gone now.”

“I know.” Matt smiled, only he looked as if he wanted to cry. “He’s gone, Sera, and he won’t hurt you ever again.”

“He won’t love me either,” she whispered. Because she wanted him to love her. She hated herself for it, but she wanted it back. She wanted him to hurt her. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted him to yell at her until she couldn’t remember how to speak for days afterwards. She wanted him to pull her close and kiss her as if that would fix everything. She wanted to believe that he meant it when he told her he would do anything for her. She wanted him, because when he was there she wasn’t alone. “And you hate me,” she said, “and no one will ever love me.” It was as her father had always said. And at the thought of him, she trembled harder. “Why do you let me come here?” She whispered.

Matt watched her for a long, long moment. “I love you like my own family,” he said. “I love you so much that I can’t help but hate you. I know you, Sera. I know that your eyes turn green when you cry, and I know that you can’t bear for anybody to touch you, and I know that the scar on your cheek came from someone and not something. I know that you were brave enough to leave your family, and that you only stay here because you have nowhere else to go. I know that you’re afraid. And I know that if you disappeared tonight, I would be the only person in the world to notice.” He swallowed, and Sera watched his throat bob. “Of course I hate you, Sera. But I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Sera had to start counting her breaths, then. One. Her heart didn’t want to slow down. Two. She was so afraid. Three. She didn’t need to be afraid anymore. Four. “I’m sorry. A-and thank you.” She’d spoken so quietly, but Matt had heard. He always heard. 

“It’s already forgiven,” he said. “And you’re welcome. You’re always welcome here, Sera. But it’s late, now. Do you think you can go home?”

“I don’t know,” Sera whispered. “I–I can try–”

Matt pursed his lips, then shook his head. “I have a guest bedroom. Would you like to stay tonight?” Sera nodded once. “Okay. Then let’s get you to bed. You have class tomorrow, right?” Sera nodded again. “Okay.”

Once she was settled in the room, Sera turned back. “I’ll try harder tomorrow,” she said, quietly but with more determination than she knew she had left. “I’ll try harder. I-I can’t promise anything for tonight. There are too many demons tonight. But tomorrow. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

Matt smiled. “I know you will. And tomorrow, you’ll do great things. Goodnight, Sera."

“Goodnight,” she breathed. 

He left, and Sera fell to her knees. Her tears had long dried up, but she felt her breath coming quicker as she opened her mouth and started to pray. She couldn’t find it in her to believe in a god, not the way that Matt did. But, she whispered, to whoever’s up there. If you’re there…

Help him.

Help him find someone better than me. Help him, because I don’t remember how to thank him. Help him, because he is the closest thing to an angel this terrible world has ever seen. Help him, be you a god or gods or something else entirely. Help him. And if I can make it through tonight, then kill me so that I can stop hurting him. 

If there’s a heaven, make sure you save him your finest room.

If there’s a hell, don’t tell him, because he’ll find a way to turn the worst demons into angels. 

Help him.

Because I can’t.

And no one else will.

 

[Just-A-Stick she/her]

19 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

No Liz today, but here's something else. I think it turned out really beautiful, I hope you guys enjoy it.

And I promise you all today. Whatever you are going through, whatever secret aches you have inside you, there is hope. I promise you. Hold on. Please, please hold on. Even if it doesn't seem as if you can take even one more breath, try. Just try one. And if you can't do anything but survive tonight, that's why we have tomorrow. The sun rises. You can remember how to laugh. There is always someone on your side. Always. I love you guys so much, and if you need me, ever, I'm here. 

This is Love:

  Reveal hidden contents

Matt’s smile was as gentle and warm as a worn blanket when he opened the door. Upon seeing her, it faded into something far more serious, but no less loving. “Sera?”

She opened her mouth, but found herself without words. She looked at him desperately.

“Okay,” he said quickly. “It’s okay. Come in.” She did, and he led her into his small kitchen. His guitar was leaned haphazardly against a cabinet, and the table was littered with papers that proudly displayed his messy scrawl. Rather than sitting in a chair, Sera opted to fold herself into an empty corner on the floor. Matt didn’t comment, only handed her a pillow.

Sera took a long breath. Then another. On her third, she started shaking. After her fourth, she whispered, “w-w-w-will you p-p-play f-for me? O-or talk. Or s-s-sing. O-or b-b-both. I–I n-n-n-n-need–” She flinched back from her own words, pressing back into the corner as if she could melt into the walls.

Matt smiled kindly, and again, the world seemed the tiniest bit less frightening. “It starts with a chord,” he murmured, picking up his guitar. “At least, it does for me.” He strummed once, the strings almost dancing beneath his fingers. “I’ll just be playing something, and then I hit the right chord, and it calls to me. So I play it again and again. I write it, and it grows.” He plucked out a melody, beautiful for its unfamiliarity. “Sometimes it wants words. Sometimes it can’t bear them. Sometimes that first chord isn’t even there in the finished product.” He fell silent for a moment, letting the music continue his story.

Sera tried to keep breathing. She was pulled so tight, her arms wrapped around her torso as if to still her pounding heart. She couldn’t loosen her muscles. If she did, there would be cracks in her armor. If she did, something would sneak into those cracks. And her heart was too fragile for that just then.

Matt scribbled something onto a page, then kept playing. “A lot of times, I get through all the work of creating it just to find out it’s worth nothing. It isn’t good enough, isn’t new enough, it isn’t something the outside will understand.” He winked, and Sera felt her lower lip tremble. “Those are the songs I learn to keep just for me.” 

She didn’t know tears could fall so quickly. Or so inexplicably. The harder she tried to think about it, the faster they fell. How warm tears were. You could get burned with that kind of heat. Maybe, Sera mused, the heat came straight from her heart. It flowed out of her ribcage and boiled all the tears that waited to scald her cheeks. Maybe that was why her face turned so red when she cried. It was the heat. She opened her mouth to explain, and all words fell away.

Matt smiled at her so sadly that she wanted to hide her face from him. “I’m going to make some hot chocolate,” he said. “Would you like some?” Sera gave him a tiny nod. He set down his guitar and pulled a pair of mugs from a cupboard. “I like it when the songs need words,” he said, easily flowing back into his speech. Though she didn't have the words to say it, Sera was infinitely grateful. “It’s more work, sure. But when they need words, I get to sing.” He set a steaming glass mug on the floor in front of her, then settled down himself. “Careful. It’s hot.”

He said nothing for nearly a minute as Sera worked up the courage to stretch out her arm and pick it up. It wasn’t nearly as hot as he’d implied. If she could have remembered how to laugh, she would giggled at his folly. She didn’t drink. Just held it, and tried to let the heat flow back into her. All the warmth she'd had inside had dripped out of her eyes. 

Then Matt started singing. Softly at first, and then louder. He sang in a language she didn’t know. But he felt every word, and through his voice Sera could feel it too. She could feel love. She could feel hope. She could feel safety. And she kept crying, because this was the one place in the world where she could feel such things. 

“You,” Matt said, “are the first person in the world to hear that song. Do you like it?” Sera nodded vigorously. “Can you talk yet?” He asked quietly. Sera opened her mouth, determined. Then she closed it. Then she opened it again, and closed it, and shook her head. Another tear fell. “That’s okay,” Matt said. “You’re doing wonderfully, Sera. Would you like me to keep singing?” Sera nodded, and so he did. She drank and watched him. His eyes shone with a light that came from nowhere but within. The eyes, Sera reasoned, must be the truest path to the heart. His heart must be glowing. He had one piece of hair that stuck just slightly out of place. Only it wasn’t out of place, because sticking up was where it was meant to be. It was perfect in its imperfection. Once his voice cracked, and Sera felt another tear fall, because his broken heart was too beautiful for her to bear.

“I’m sorry,” Sera finally whispered. Matt immediately fell silent, looking at her. “I–I know you hate me,” she said. “A-and you don’t have e-enough t-t-time for th-this.”

Matt nodded once, his eyes on the floor. “I won’t say it’s okay, because it isn’t. But I forgive you, Sera. I forgave you last time, and I forgive you this time, and I’ll forgive you next time.”

If Sera had had any last tears squirreled away, they would have fallen then. She stayed still and silent for a startlingly long time. Longer than she knew she could. Then, so quietly that she wasn’t even sure she’d said it out loud, a single sentence escaped her. “I never loved him.”

Matt’s eyes widened. “Sera,” he said. “You don’t need to–”

“I didn’t,” Sera whispered, and Matt was too kind to dare interrupt her, not when she was barely able to speak. “I never loved him, and I left you, and you hate me, and I’m sorry.”

Now Matt fell silent. Sera was trembling, but she clenched her fists. There were words she needed to say. Before she couldn’t do it anymore. “I’m trying to forgive you,” he said. “I can’t, not yet, but I will.” Sera swallowed and nodded. Mat met her eyes carefully. “Can you tell me why? I know that maybe you can’t. And that’s okay. But if you can find the words…why did you do it, Sera?”

Sera blinked away tears that refused to fall. “I…” For a long, long moment, she couldn’t say anything else. Her heart was beating so fast that it rose into her throat and forced back all the words she wanted to say. “I was scared.”

Matt’s face crumpled. “I never wanted to scare you.”

“I know.” And those were all the words Sera had, so she said them again. “I know.” And then, “Th-that’s why I was scared. You didn’t w-want to h-hurt me.” Matt didn’t say anything, so once she could speak again, Sera continued. “I was s-s-scared to l-love you. A-and he was f-f-familiar. H-he was everything I thought that love w-was. And I th-thought he l-l-loved me.”

“Did he?”

“I don’t know,” Sera whispered. “M-maybe. But h-he’s g-gone now.”

“I know.” Matt smiled, only he looked as if he wanted to cry. “He’s gone, Sera, and he won’t hurt you ever again.”

“He won’t love me either,” she whispered. Because she wanted him to love her. She hated herself for it, but she wanted it back. She wanted him to hurt her. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted him to yell at her until she couldn’t remember how to speak for days afterwards. She wanted him to pull her close and kiss her as if that would fix everything. She wanted to believe that he meant it when he told her he would do anything for her. She wanted him, because when he was there she wasn’t alone. “And you hate me,” she said, “and no one will ever love me.” It was as her father had always said. And at the thought of him, she trembled harder. “Why do you let me come here?” She whispered.

Matt watched her for a long, long moment. “I love you like my own family,” he said. “I love you so much that I can’t help but hate you. I know you, Sera. I know that your eyes turn green when you cry, and I know that you can’t bear for anybody to touch you, and I know that the scar on your cheek came from someone and not something. I know that you were brave enough to leave your family, and that you only stay here because you have nowhere else to go. I know that you’re afraid. And I know that if you disappeared tonight, I would be the only person in the world to notice.” He swallowed, and Sera watched his throat bob. “Of course I hate you, Sera. But I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Sera had to start counting her breaths, then. One. Her heart didn’t want to slow down. Two. She was so afraid. Three. She didn’t need to be afraid anymore. Four. “I’m sorry. A-and thank you.” She’d spoken so quietly, but Matt had heard. He always heard. 

“It’s already forgiven,” he said. “And you’re welcome. You’re always welcome here, Sera. But it’s late, now. Do you think you can go home?”

“I don’t know,” Sera whispered. “I–I can try–”

Matt pursed his lips, then shook his head. “I have a guest bedroom. Would you like to stay tonight?” Sera nodded once. “Okay. Then let’s get you to bed. You have class tomorrow, right?” Sera nodded again. “Okay.”

Once she was settled in the room, Sera turned back. “I’ll try harder tomorrow,” she said, quietly but with more determination than she knew she had left. “I’ll try harder. I-I can’t promise anything for tonight. There are too many demons tonight. But tomorrow. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

Matt smiled. “I know you will. And tomorrow, you’ll do great things. Goodnight, Sera."

“Goodnight,” she breathed. 

He left, and Sera fell to her knees. Her tears had long dried up, but she felt her breath coming quicker as she opened her mouth and started to pray. She couldn’t find it in her to believe in a god, not the way that Matt did. But, she whispered, to whoever’s up there. If you’re there…

Help him.

Help him find someone better than me. Help him, because I don’t remember how to thank him. Help him, because he is the closest thing to an angel this terrible world has ever seen. Help him, be you a god or gods or something else entirely. Help him. And if I can make it through tonight, then kill me so that I can stop hurting him. 

If there’s a heaven, make sure you save him your finest room.

If there’s a hell, don’t tell him, because he’ll find a way to turn the worst demons into angels. 

Help him.

Because I can’t.

And no one else will.

 

that's...

wow

thank you for writing.

*much hugs*

[RoyalBeeMage he/him]

On 6/25/2024 at 10:07 PM, Edema Rue said:

Teeny Liz scene

Telant:

  Hide contents

“You,” Siylna said, “are an idiot.”

Liz grinned. “I know.”

Siylna threw her hands in the air. “Then why are you doing it?”

Liz shrugged. “Think how I’ll look if I can actually do it?” Siylna stared at her until Liz finally looked away awkwardly. “I don’t know why I’m doing it.”

“Great.” Siylna rolled her eyes. “You’re going to get yourself killed, and you don’t even know why.”

“It’ll be fun,” Liz said, trying to smirk. Her failure was proven by Siylna’s snort. 

“Lizzy, you’re terrified.”

Liz shrugged again, pulling her shoulders tight as if she could curl into a ball. “Yeah.”

“Then don’t go!”

“I already said I would,” Liz muttered. “It would be embarrassing to everyone if I pulled out now.”

Siylna slapped her. It was so sudden, so sharp, so unexpected that Liz couldn’t respond. She opened her mouth, but Siylna spoke first. “Elizabeth Fae’noan. You are not going to get yourself killed because you’re too embarrassed to admit that there is something you can’t do.”

Liz blinked. Then again. “Elizabeth?”

Siylna winced. “Bad guess?”

“Very.” There was a brief moment of amiable silence, then Liz sighed, leaning back on her lumpy bed to stare at the ceiling of their room. “I want to do it.” She couldn’t see Siylna’s expression, but it wasn’t hard to guess how the other girl felt. “I have to know.”

Siylna sighed softly. The corner of Liz’s mouth twitched as she heard a note of affection. “Know what, Lizzy?”

“I have to know if I can do it.” Liz sat up, meeting Siylna’s pale eyes. “It’s a challenge, Si, and I have to meet it.”

Siylna hesitated for a long moment. Eventually, she sighed. “Fine. I get it. Just don’t be an idiot, okay? More than you already are, that is.”

Liz laughed, surprised by how much her friend’s approval meant to her. “Thanks, Si. I want to see how it changes me. I want see what I become.”

For once, Siylna didn’t respond with levity. “What if it changes you into someone awful?”

Liz thought for a moment. “It’s one trip, Si. I think it’s more likely to kill me than change me so terribly. And if it does…” She shrugged and rested her head on Siylna’s shoulder, playing at sweetness. “I guess I’ll finally understand what it’s like to be you.”

She didn’t even have time to grin before Siylna shoved her off the bed. “I take it back,” she said with a scowl. “You’re already as awful as you can get.” Liz laughed, and Siylna joined her.

“Just be safe, okay?” Liz nodded. “Telant is very different from Arania. They do things differently there.”

Liz eyed her quizzically from the floor. “When did you go to Telant?”

Siylna looked away. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, her voice unusually husky. She coughed, and the strange note of sorrow was gone. “Make sure you do everything the professors tell you to, even if it’s embarrassing.” She glared comically, and Liz snorted. 

After another pause, Liz smiled at her, caught between ruefulness and determination. “I’m going to regret this, aren't I?”

“Yeah,” Siylna said. “Yeah, you are. Every single day, you’ll wonder why you did it, and you’ll hate yourself for it, and wish you’d just listened to me.” She paused. “And once you get back, you’ll say you don’t know what possessed you to do it. You’ll say you were crazy. But once you’re no longer caught in the heat of the moment, you’ll say you were glad you did it. You’ll say it was a good experience. And you’ll be right.”

It was at that moment that Liz realized her mouth was open. Siylna raised an eyebrow, and Liz coughed. “Uh, I…”

“I do have feelings, Lizzy.”

“I…know…” Liz winced. “You usually only act this way in philosophy, is all. It’s…weird to see you care.”

Siylna looked away. “I care about a lot of things, Liz. It’s just easier not to show it. It’s safer. When you don’t let anything into your heart, nothing can break it.”

“It’s lonely, though,” Liz said softly.

“Guess so.”

“Don’t worry, Si. I’m coming back.”

Siylna nodded once, not meeting her eyes. “You better.”

  Hide contents

So some context for this.

From what I can tell, Liz got the opportunity to join a diplomatic trip to another kingdom. No one else took it because it’s dangerous, it’s hard, and once you’ve started you can’t stop.

I wrote it because coming up are a lot of things I’ll probably regret but that I’ve chosen to do.

For example…starting July 15th, I’ll be working graveyard shift for 3 1/2 weeks. 8pm-6am.

And of course, in August, school starts. My class load is ridiculous. Every single class I’m in (with the exception of maybe seminary, depending on my teacher) will challenge me. I’ll be in 3 big shows, 2 big competition pieces, and have 2 individual competition pieces, like a scene or monologue. That is on top of my very hard classes. I’m also biking through October. I’m also trying to practice the violin daily and fit in lessons. I’m also on theatre presidency.

The list continues.

But…

I want to do it.

It’s a challenge, see, and I have to rise to meet it.

And if I can do it…if I can maintain that level of motivation and will for an entire year…

Then I can do anything.

I am stronger than my fear, I am stronger than my sadness, and I am more than what my mind tells me to be.

So why not?

Why not try it?

 

amazing! good luck with the graveyard shift...

1 hour ago, Edema Rue said:

No Liz today, but here's something else. I think it turned out really beautiful, I hope you guys enjoy it.

And I promise you all today. Whatever you are going through, whatever secret aches you have inside you, there is hope. I promise you. Hold on. Please, please hold on. Even if it doesn't seem as if you can take even one more breath, try. Just try one. And if you can't do anything but survive tonight, that's why we have tomorrow. The sun rises. You can remember how to laugh. There is always someone on your side. Always. I love you guys so much, and if you need me, ever, I'm here. 

This is Love:

  Hide contents

Matt’s smile was as gentle and warm as a worn blanket when he opened the door. Upon seeing her, it faded into something far more serious, but no less loving. “Sera?”

She opened her mouth, but found herself without words. She looked at him desperately.

“Okay,” he said quickly. “It’s okay. Come in.” She did, and he led her into his small kitchen. His guitar was leaned haphazardly against a cabinet, and the table was littered with papers that proudly displayed his messy scrawl. Rather than sitting in a chair, Sera opted to fold herself into an empty corner on the floor. Matt didn’t comment, only handed her a pillow.

Sera took a long breath. Then another. On her third, she started shaking. After her fourth, she whispered, “w-w-w-will you p-p-play f-for me? O-or talk. Or s-s-sing. O-or b-b-both. I–I n-n-n-n-need–” She flinched back from her own words, pressing back into the corner as if she could melt into the walls.

Matt smiled kindly, and again, the world seemed the tiniest bit less frightening. “It starts with a chord,” he murmured, picking up his guitar. “At least, it does for me.” He strummed once, the strings almost dancing beneath his fingers. “I’ll just be playing something, and then I hit the right chord, and it calls to me. So I play it again and again. I write it, and it grows.” He plucked out a melody, beautiful for its unfamiliarity. “Sometimes it wants words. Sometimes it can’t bear them. Sometimes that first chord isn’t even there in the finished product.” He fell silent for a moment, letting the music continue his story.

Sera tried to keep breathing. She was pulled so tight, her arms wrapped around her torso as if to still her pounding heart. She couldn’t loosen her muscles. If she did, there would be cracks in her armor. If she did, something would sneak into those cracks. And her heart was too fragile for that just then.

Matt scribbled something onto a page, then kept playing. “A lot of times, I get through all the work of creating it just to find out it’s worth nothing. It isn’t good enough, isn’t new enough, it isn’t something the outside will understand.” He winked, and Sera felt her lower lip tremble. “Those are the songs I learn to keep just for me.” 

She didn’t know tears could fall so quickly. Or so inexplicably. The harder she tried to think about it, the faster they fell. How warm tears were. You could get burned with that kind of heat. Maybe, Sera mused, the heat came straight from her heart. It flowed out of her ribcage and boiled all the tears that waited to scald her cheeks. Maybe that was why her face turned so red when she cried. It was the heat. She opened her mouth to explain, and all words fell away.

Matt smiled at her so sadly that she wanted to hide her face from him. “I’m going to make some hot chocolate,” he said. “Would you like some?” Sera gave him a tiny nod. He set down his guitar and pulled a pair of mugs from a cupboard. “I like it when the songs need words,” he said, easily flowing back into his speech. Though she didn't have the words to say it, Sera was infinitely grateful. “It’s more work, sure. But when they need words, I get to sing.” He set a steaming glass mug on the floor in front of her, then settled down himself. “Careful. It’s hot.”

He said nothing for nearly a minute as Sera worked up the courage to stretch out her arm and pick it up. It wasn’t nearly as hot as he’d implied. If she could have remembered how to laugh, she would giggled at his folly. She didn’t drink. Just held it, and tried to let the heat flow back into her. All the warmth she'd had inside had dripped out of her eyes. 

Then Matt started singing. Softly at first, and then louder. He sang in a language she didn’t know. But he felt every word, and through his voice Sera could feel it too. She could feel love. She could feel hope. She could feel safety. And she kept crying, because this was the one place in the world where she could feel such things. 

“You,” Matt said, “are the first person in the world to hear that song. Do you like it?” Sera nodded vigorously. “Can you talk yet?” He asked quietly. Sera opened her mouth, determined. Then she closed it. Then she opened it again, and closed it, and shook her head. Another tear fell. “That’s okay,” Matt said. “You’re doing wonderfully, Sera. Would you like me to keep singing?” Sera nodded, and so he did. She drank and watched him. His eyes shone with a light that came from nowhere but within. The eyes, Sera reasoned, must be the truest path to the heart. His heart must be glowing. He had one piece of hair that stuck just slightly out of place. Only it wasn’t out of place, because sticking up was where it was meant to be. It was perfect in its imperfection. Once his voice cracked, and Sera felt another tear fall, because his broken heart was too beautiful for her to bear.

“I’m sorry,” Sera finally whispered. Matt immediately fell silent, looking at her. “I–I know you hate me,” she said. “A-and you don’t have e-enough t-t-time for th-this.”

Matt nodded once, his eyes on the floor. “I won’t say it’s okay, because it isn’t. But I forgive you, Sera. I forgave you last time, and I forgive you this time, and I’ll forgive you next time.”

If Sera had had any last tears squirreled away, they would have fallen then. She stayed still and silent for a startlingly long time. Longer than she knew she could. Then, so quietly that she wasn’t even sure she’d said it out loud, a single sentence escaped her. “I never loved him.”

Matt’s eyes widened. “Sera,” he said. “You don’t need to–”

“I didn’t,” Sera whispered, and Matt was too kind to dare interrupt her, not when she was barely able to speak. “I never loved him, and I left you, and you hate me, and I’m sorry.”

Now Matt fell silent. Sera was trembling, but she clenched her fists. There were words she needed to say. Before she couldn’t do it anymore. “I’m trying to forgive you,” he said. “I can’t, not yet, but I will.” Sera swallowed and nodded. Mat met her eyes carefully. “Can you tell me why? I know that maybe you can’t. And that’s okay. But if you can find the words…why did you do it, Sera?”

Sera blinked away tears that refused to fall. “I…” For a long, long moment, she couldn’t say anything else. Her heart was beating so fast that it rose into her throat and forced back all the words she wanted to say. “I was scared.”

Matt’s face crumpled. “I never wanted to scare you.”

“I know.” And those were all the words Sera had, so she said them again. “I know.” And then, “Th-that’s why I was scared. You didn’t w-want to h-hurt me.” Matt didn’t say anything, so once she could speak again, Sera continued. “I was s-s-scared to l-love you. A-and he was f-f-familiar. H-he was everything I thought that love w-was. And I th-thought he l-l-loved me.”

“Did he?”

“I don’t know,” Sera whispered. “M-maybe. But h-he’s g-gone now.”

“I know.” Matt smiled, only he looked as if he wanted to cry. “He’s gone, Sera, and he won’t hurt you ever again.”

“He won’t love me either,” she whispered. Because she wanted him to love her. She hated herself for it, but she wanted it back. She wanted him to hurt her. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted him to yell at her until she couldn’t remember how to speak for days afterwards. She wanted him to pull her close and kiss her as if that would fix everything. She wanted to believe that he meant it when he told her he would do anything for her. She wanted him, because when he was there she wasn’t alone. “And you hate me,” she said, “and no one will ever love me.” It was as her father had always said. And at the thought of him, she trembled harder. “Why do you let me come here?” She whispered.

Matt watched her for a long, long moment. “I love you like my own family,” he said. “I love you so much that I can’t help but hate you. I know you, Sera. I know that your eyes turn green when you cry, and I know that you can’t bear for anybody to touch you, and I know that the scar on your cheek came from someone and not something. I know that you were brave enough to leave your family, and that you only stay here because you have nowhere else to go. I know that you’re afraid. And I know that if you disappeared tonight, I would be the only person in the world to notice.” He swallowed, and Sera watched his throat bob. “Of course I hate you, Sera. But I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Sera had to start counting her breaths, then. One. Her heart didn’t want to slow down. Two. She was so afraid. Three. She didn’t need to be afraid anymore. Four. “I’m sorry. A-and thank you.” She’d spoken so quietly, but Matt had heard. He always heard. 

“It’s already forgiven,” he said. “And you’re welcome. You’re always welcome here, Sera. But it’s late, now. Do you think you can go home?”

“I don’t know,” Sera whispered. “I–I can try–”

Matt pursed his lips, then shook his head. “I have a guest bedroom. Would you like to stay tonight?” Sera nodded once. “Okay. Then let’s get you to bed. You have class tomorrow, right?” Sera nodded again. “Okay.”

Once she was settled in the room, Sera turned back. “I’ll try harder tomorrow,” she said, quietly but with more determination than she knew she had left. “I’ll try harder. I-I can’t promise anything for tonight. There are too many demons tonight. But tomorrow. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

Matt smiled. “I know you will. And tomorrow, you’ll do great things. Goodnight, Sera."

“Goodnight,” she breathed. 

He left, and Sera fell to her knees. Her tears had long dried up, but she felt her breath coming quicker as she opened her mouth and started to pray. She couldn’t find it in her to believe in a god, not the way that Matt did. But, she whispered, to whoever’s up there. If you’re there…

Help him.

Help him find someone better than me. Help him, because I don’t remember how to thank him. Help him, because he is the closest thing to an angel this terrible world has ever seen. Help him, be you a god or gods or something else entirely. Help him. And if I can make it through tonight, then kill me so that I can stop hurting him. 

If there’s a heaven, make sure you save him your finest room.

If there’s a hell, don’t tell him, because he’ll find a way to turn the worst demons into angels. 

Help him.

Because I can’t.

And no one else will.

 

oh wow! thank you for that. your writing is amazing!

[Just a Silvereye he/him]

7 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

No Liz today, but here's something else. I think it turned out really beautiful, I hope you guys enjoy it.

And I promise you all today. Whatever you are going through, whatever secret aches you have inside you, there is hope. I promise you. Hold on. Please, please hold on. Even if it doesn't seem as if you can take even one more breath, try. Just try one. And if you can't do anything but survive tonight, that's why we have tomorrow. The sun rises. You can remember how to laugh. There is always someone on your side. Always. I love you guys so much, and if you need me, ever, I'm here. 

This is Love:

  Reveal hidden contents

Matt’s smile was as gentle and warm as a worn blanket when he opened the door. Upon seeing her, it faded into something far more serious, but no less loving. “Sera?”

She opened her mouth, but found herself without words. She looked at him desperately.

“Okay,” he said quickly. “It’s okay. Come in.” She did, and he led her into his small kitchen. His guitar was leaned haphazardly against a cabinet, and the table was littered with papers that proudly displayed his messy scrawl. Rather than sitting in a chair, Sera opted to fold herself into an empty corner on the floor. Matt didn’t comment, only handed her a pillow.

Sera took a long breath. Then another. On her third, she started shaking. After her fourth, she whispered, “w-w-w-will you p-p-play f-for me? O-or talk. Or s-s-sing. O-or b-b-both. I–I n-n-n-n-need–” She flinched back from her own words, pressing back into the corner as if she could melt into the walls.

Matt smiled kindly, and again, the world seemed the tiniest bit less frightening. “It starts with a chord,” he murmured, picking up his guitar. “At least, it does for me.” He strummed once, the strings almost dancing beneath his fingers. “I’ll just be playing something, and then I hit the right chord, and it calls to me. So I play it again and again. I write it, and it grows.” He plucked out a melody, beautiful for its unfamiliarity. “Sometimes it wants words. Sometimes it can’t bear them. Sometimes that first chord isn’t even there in the finished product.” He fell silent for a moment, letting the music continue his story.

Sera tried to keep breathing. She was pulled so tight, her arms wrapped around her torso as if to still her pounding heart. She couldn’t loosen her muscles. If she did, there would be cracks in her armor. If she did, something would sneak into those cracks. And her heart was too fragile for that just then.

Matt scribbled something onto a page, then kept playing. “A lot of times, I get through all the work of creating it just to find out it’s worth nothing. It isn’t good enough, isn’t new enough, it isn’t something the outside will understand.” He winked, and Sera felt her lower lip tremble. “Those are the songs I learn to keep just for me.” 

She didn’t know tears could fall so quickly. Or so inexplicably. The harder she tried to think about it, the faster they fell. How warm tears were. You could get burned with that kind of heat. Maybe, Sera mused, the heat came straight from her heart. It flowed out of her ribcage and boiled all the tears that waited to scald her cheeks. Maybe that was why her face turned so red when she cried. It was the heat. She opened her mouth to explain, and all words fell away.

Matt smiled at her so sadly that she wanted to hide her face from him. “I’m going to make some hot chocolate,” he said. “Would you like some?” Sera gave him a tiny nod. He set down his guitar and pulled a pair of mugs from a cupboard. “I like it when the songs need words,” he said, easily flowing back into his speech. Though she didn't have the words to say it, Sera was infinitely grateful. “It’s more work, sure. But when they need words, I get to sing.” He set a steaming glass mug on the floor in front of her, then settled down himself. “Careful. It’s hot.”

He said nothing for nearly a minute as Sera worked up the courage to stretch out her arm and pick it up. It wasn’t nearly as hot as he’d implied. If she could have remembered how to laugh, she would giggled at his folly. She didn’t drink. Just held it, and tried to let the heat flow back into her. All the warmth she'd had inside had dripped out of her eyes. 

Then Matt started singing. Softly at first, and then louder. He sang in a language she didn’t know. But he felt every word, and through his voice Sera could feel it too. She could feel love. She could feel hope. She could feel safety. And she kept crying, because this was the one place in the world where she could feel such things. 

“You,” Matt said, “are the first person in the world to hear that song. Do you like it?” Sera nodded vigorously. “Can you talk yet?” He asked quietly. Sera opened her mouth, determined. Then she closed it. Then she opened it again, and closed it, and shook her head. Another tear fell. “That’s okay,” Matt said. “You’re doing wonderfully, Sera. Would you like me to keep singing?” Sera nodded, and so he did. She drank and watched him. His eyes shone with a light that came from nowhere but within. The eyes, Sera reasoned, must be the truest path to the heart. His heart must be glowing. He had one piece of hair that stuck just slightly out of place. Only it wasn’t out of place, because sticking up was where it was meant to be. It was perfect in its imperfection. Once his voice cracked, and Sera felt another tear fall, because his broken heart was too beautiful for her to bear.

“I’m sorry,” Sera finally whispered. Matt immediately fell silent, looking at her. “I–I know you hate me,” she said. “A-and you don’t have e-enough t-t-time for th-this.”

Matt nodded once, his eyes on the floor. “I won’t say it’s okay, because it isn’t. But I forgive you, Sera. I forgave you last time, and I forgive you this time, and I’ll forgive you next time.”

If Sera had had any last tears squirreled away, they would have fallen then. She stayed still and silent for a startlingly long time. Longer than she knew she could. Then, so quietly that she wasn’t even sure she’d said it out loud, a single sentence escaped her. “I never loved him.”

Matt’s eyes widened. “Sera,” he said. “You don’t need to–”

“I didn’t,” Sera whispered, and Matt was too kind to dare interrupt her, not when she was barely able to speak. “I never loved him, and I left you, and you hate me, and I’m sorry.”

Now Matt fell silent. Sera was trembling, but she clenched her fists. There were words she needed to say. Before she couldn’t do it anymore. “I’m trying to forgive you,” he said. “I can’t, not yet, but I will.” Sera swallowed and nodded. Mat met her eyes carefully. “Can you tell me why? I know that maybe you can’t. And that’s okay. But if you can find the words…why did you do it, Sera?”

Sera blinked away tears that refused to fall. “I…” For a long, long moment, she couldn’t say anything else. Her heart was beating so fast that it rose into her throat and forced back all the words she wanted to say. “I was scared.”

Matt’s face crumpled. “I never wanted to scare you.”

“I know.” And those were all the words Sera had, so she said them again. “I know.” And then, “Th-that’s why I was scared. You didn’t w-want to h-hurt me.” Matt didn’t say anything, so once she could speak again, Sera continued. “I was s-s-scared to l-love you. A-and he was f-f-familiar. H-he was everything I thought that love w-was. And I th-thought he l-l-loved me.”

“Did he?”

“I don’t know,” Sera whispered. “M-maybe. But h-he’s g-gone now.”

“I know.” Matt smiled, only he looked as if he wanted to cry. “He’s gone, Sera, and he won’t hurt you ever again.”

“He won’t love me either,” she whispered. Because she wanted him to love her. She hated herself for it, but she wanted it back. She wanted him to hurt her. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted him to yell at her until she couldn’t remember how to speak for days afterwards. She wanted him to pull her close and kiss her as if that would fix everything. She wanted to believe that he meant it when he told her he would do anything for her. She wanted him, because when he was there she wasn’t alone. “And you hate me,” she said, “and no one will ever love me.” It was as her father had always said. And at the thought of him, she trembled harder. “Why do you let me come here?” She whispered.

Matt watched her for a long, long moment. “I love you like my own family,” he said. “I love you so much that I can’t help but hate you. I know you, Sera. I know that your eyes turn green when you cry, and I know that you can’t bear for anybody to touch you, and I know that the scar on your cheek came from someone and not something. I know that you were brave enough to leave your family, and that you only stay here because you have nowhere else to go. I know that you’re afraid. And I know that if you disappeared tonight, I would be the only person in the world to notice.” He swallowed, and Sera watched his throat bob. “Of course I hate you, Sera. But I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Sera had to start counting her breaths, then. One. Her heart didn’t want to slow down. Two. She was so afraid. Three. She didn’t need to be afraid anymore. Four. “I’m sorry. A-and thank you.” She’d spoken so quietly, but Matt had heard. He always heard. 

“It’s already forgiven,” he said. “And you’re welcome. You’re always welcome here, Sera. But it’s late, now. Do you think you can go home?”

“I don’t know,” Sera whispered. “I–I can try–”

Matt pursed his lips, then shook his head. “I have a guest bedroom. Would you like to stay tonight?” Sera nodded once. “Okay. Then let’s get you to bed. You have class tomorrow, right?” Sera nodded again. “Okay.”

Once she was settled in the room, Sera turned back. “I’ll try harder tomorrow,” she said, quietly but with more determination than she knew she had left. “I’ll try harder. I-I can’t promise anything for tonight. There are too many demons tonight. But tomorrow. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

Matt smiled. “I know you will. And tomorrow, you’ll do great things. Goodnight, Sera."

“Goodnight,” she breathed. 

He left, and Sera fell to her knees. Her tears had long dried up, but she felt her breath coming quicker as she opened her mouth and started to pray. She couldn’t find it in her to believe in a god, not the way that Matt did. But, she whispered, to whoever’s up there. If you’re there…

Help him.

Help him find someone better than me. Help him, because I don’t remember how to thank him. Help him, because he is the closest thing to an angel this terrible world has ever seen. Help him, be you a god or gods or something else entirely. Help him. And if I can make it through tonight, then kill me so that I can stop hurting him. 

If there’s a heaven, make sure you save him your finest room.

If there’s a hell, don’t tell him, because he’ll find a way to turn the worst demons into angels. 

Help him.

Because I can’t.

And no one else will.

Wow 

[Edema Rue she/her]

17 hours ago, Anguished_One said:

that's...

wow

thank you for writing.

*much hugs*

 

16 hours ago, RoyalBeeMage said:

amazing! good luck with the graveyard shift...

oh wow! thank you for that. your writing is amazing!

 

10 hours ago, Just a Silvereye said:

Wow 

thank you guys so much

[+Slowswift he/him]

21 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

No Liz today, but here's something else. I think it turned out really beautiful, I hope you guys enjoy it.

And I promise you all today. Whatever you are going through, whatever secret aches you have inside you, there is hope. I promise you. Hold on. Please, please hold on. Even if it doesn't seem as if you can take even one more breath, try. Just try one. And if you can't do anything but survive tonight, that's why we have tomorrow. The sun rises. You can remember how to laugh. There is always someone on your side. Always. I love you guys so much, and if you need me, ever, I'm here. 

This is Love:

  Reveal hidden contents

Matt’s smile was as gentle and warm as a worn blanket when he opened the door. Upon seeing her, it faded into something far more serious, but no less loving. “Sera?”

She opened her mouth, but found herself without words. She looked at him desperately.

“Okay,” he said quickly. “It’s okay. Come in.” She did, and he led her into his small kitchen. His guitar was leaned haphazardly against a cabinet, and the table was littered with papers that proudly displayed his messy scrawl. Rather than sitting in a chair, Sera opted to fold herself into an empty corner on the floor. Matt didn’t comment, only handed her a pillow.

Sera took a long breath. Then another. On her third, she started shaking. After her fourth, she whispered, “w-w-w-will you p-p-play f-for me? O-or talk. Or s-s-sing. O-or b-b-both. I–I n-n-n-n-need–” She flinched back from her own words, pressing back into the corner as if she could melt into the walls.

Matt smiled kindly, and again, the world seemed the tiniest bit less frightening. “It starts with a chord,” he murmured, picking up his guitar. “At least, it does for me.” He strummed once, the strings almost dancing beneath his fingers. “I’ll just be playing something, and then I hit the right chord, and it calls to me. So I play it again and again. I write it, and it grows.” He plucked out a melody, beautiful for its unfamiliarity. “Sometimes it wants words. Sometimes it can’t bear them. Sometimes that first chord isn’t even there in the finished product.” He fell silent for a moment, letting the music continue his story.

Sera tried to keep breathing. She was pulled so tight, her arms wrapped around her torso as if to still her pounding heart. She couldn’t loosen her muscles. If she did, there would be cracks in her armor. If she did, something would sneak into those cracks. And her heart was too fragile for that just then.

Matt scribbled something onto a page, then kept playing. “A lot of times, I get through all the work of creating it just to find out it’s worth nothing. It isn’t good enough, isn’t new enough, it isn’t something the outside will understand.” He winked, and Sera felt her lower lip tremble. “Those are the songs I learn to keep just for me.” 

She didn’t know tears could fall so quickly. Or so inexplicably. The harder she tried to think about it, the faster they fell. How warm tears were. You could get burned with that kind of heat. Maybe, Sera mused, the heat came straight from her heart. It flowed out of her ribcage and boiled all the tears that waited to scald her cheeks. Maybe that was why her face turned so red when she cried. It was the heat. She opened her mouth to explain, and all words fell away.

Matt smiled at her so sadly that she wanted to hide her face from him. “I’m going to make some hot chocolate,” he said. “Would you like some?” Sera gave him a tiny nod. He set down his guitar and pulled a pair of mugs from a cupboard. “I like it when the songs need words,” he said, easily flowing back into his speech. Though she didn't have the words to say it, Sera was infinitely grateful. “It’s more work, sure. But when they need words, I get to sing.” He set a steaming glass mug on the floor in front of her, then settled down himself. “Careful. It’s hot.”

He said nothing for nearly a minute as Sera worked up the courage to stretch out her arm and pick it up. It wasn’t nearly as hot as he’d implied. If she could have remembered how to laugh, she would giggled at his folly. She didn’t drink. Just held it, and tried to let the heat flow back into her. All the warmth she'd had inside had dripped out of her eyes. 

Then Matt started singing. Softly at first, and then louder. He sang in a language she didn’t know. But he felt every word, and through his voice Sera could feel it too. She could feel love. She could feel hope. She could feel safety. And she kept crying, because this was the one place in the world where she could feel such things. 

“You,” Matt said, “are the first person in the world to hear that song. Do you like it?” Sera nodded vigorously. “Can you talk yet?” He asked quietly. Sera opened her mouth, determined. Then she closed it. Then she opened it again, and closed it, and shook her head. Another tear fell. “That’s okay,” Matt said. “You’re doing wonderfully, Sera. Would you like me to keep singing?” Sera nodded, and so he did. She drank and watched him. His eyes shone with a light that came from nowhere but within. The eyes, Sera reasoned, must be the truest path to the heart. His heart must be glowing. He had one piece of hair that stuck just slightly out of place. Only it wasn’t out of place, because sticking up was where it was meant to be. It was perfect in its imperfection. Once his voice cracked, and Sera felt another tear fall, because his broken heart was too beautiful for her to bear.

“I’m sorry,” Sera finally whispered. Matt immediately fell silent, looking at her. “I–I know you hate me,” she said. “A-and you don’t have e-enough t-t-time for th-this.”

Matt nodded once, his eyes on the floor. “I won’t say it’s okay, because it isn’t. But I forgive you, Sera. I forgave you last time, and I forgive you this time, and I’ll forgive you next time.”

If Sera had had any last tears squirreled away, they would have fallen then. She stayed still and silent for a startlingly long time. Longer than she knew she could. Then, so quietly that she wasn’t even sure she’d said it out loud, a single sentence escaped her. “I never loved him.”

Matt’s eyes widened. “Sera,” he said. “You don’t need to–”

“I didn’t,” Sera whispered, and Matt was too kind to dare interrupt her, not when she was barely able to speak. “I never loved him, and I left you, and you hate me, and I’m sorry.”

Now Matt fell silent. Sera was trembling, but she clenched her fists. There were words she needed to say. Before she couldn’t do it anymore. “I’m trying to forgive you,” he said. “I can’t, not yet, but I will.” Sera swallowed and nodded. Mat met her eyes carefully. “Can you tell me why? I know that maybe you can’t. And that’s okay. But if you can find the words…why did you do it, Sera?”

Sera blinked away tears that refused to fall. “I…” For a long, long moment, she couldn’t say anything else. Her heart was beating so fast that it rose into her throat and forced back all the words she wanted to say. “I was scared.”

Matt’s face crumpled. “I never wanted to scare you.”

“I know.” And those were all the words Sera had, so she said them again. “I know.” And then, “Th-that’s why I was scared. You didn’t w-want to h-hurt me.” Matt didn’t say anything, so once she could speak again, Sera continued. “I was s-s-scared to l-love you. A-and he was f-f-familiar. H-he was everything I thought that love w-was. And I th-thought he l-l-loved me.”

“Did he?”

“I don’t know,” Sera whispered. “M-maybe. But h-he’s g-gone now.”

“I know.” Matt smiled, only he looked as if he wanted to cry. “He’s gone, Sera, and he won’t hurt you ever again.”

“He won’t love me either,” she whispered. Because she wanted him to love her. She hated herself for it, but she wanted it back. She wanted him to hurt her. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted him to yell at her until she couldn’t remember how to speak for days afterwards. She wanted him to pull her close and kiss her as if that would fix everything. She wanted to believe that he meant it when he told her he would do anything for her. She wanted him, because when he was there she wasn’t alone. “And you hate me,” she said, “and no one will ever love me.” It was as her father had always said. And at the thought of him, she trembled harder. “Why do you let me come here?” She whispered.

Matt watched her for a long, long moment. “I love you like my own family,” he said. “I love you so much that I can’t help but hate you. I know you, Sera. I know that your eyes turn green when you cry, and I know that you can’t bear for anybody to touch you, and I know that the scar on your cheek came from someone and not something. I know that you were brave enough to leave your family, and that you only stay here because you have nowhere else to go. I know that you’re afraid. And I know that if you disappeared tonight, I would be the only person in the world to notice.” He swallowed, and Sera watched his throat bob. “Of course I hate you, Sera. But I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Sera had to start counting her breaths, then. One. Her heart didn’t want to slow down. Two. She was so afraid. Three. She didn’t need to be afraid anymore. Four. “I’m sorry. A-and thank you.” She’d spoken so quietly, but Matt had heard. He always heard. 

“It’s already forgiven,” he said. “And you’re welcome. You’re always welcome here, Sera. But it’s late, now. Do you think you can go home?”

“I don’t know,” Sera whispered. “I–I can try–”

Matt pursed his lips, then shook his head. “I have a guest bedroom. Would you like to stay tonight?” Sera nodded once. “Okay. Then let’s get you to bed. You have class tomorrow, right?” Sera nodded again. “Okay.”

Once she was settled in the room, Sera turned back. “I’ll try harder tomorrow,” she said, quietly but with more determination than she knew she had left. “I’ll try harder. I-I can’t promise anything for tonight. There are too many demons tonight. But tomorrow. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

Matt smiled. “I know you will. And tomorrow, you’ll do great things. Goodnight, Sera."

“Goodnight,” she breathed. 

He left, and Sera fell to her knees. Her tears had long dried up, but she felt her breath coming quicker as she opened her mouth and started to pray. She couldn’t find it in her to believe in a god, not the way that Matt did. But, she whispered, to whoever’s up there. If you’re there…

Help him.

Help him find someone better than me. Help him, because I don’t remember how to thank him. Help him, because he is the closest thing to an angel this terrible world has ever seen. Help him, be you a god or gods or something else entirely. Help him. And if I can make it through tonight, then kill me so that I can stop hurting him. 

If there’s a heaven, make sure you save him your finest room.

If there’s a hell, don’t tell him, because he’ll find a way to turn the worst demons into angels. 

Help him.

Because I can’t.

And no one else will.

 

That was beautifully evocative. Is there context, or is this a stand-alone piece?

[Edema Rue she/her]

57 minutes ago, Slowswift said:

That was beautifully evocative. Is there context, or is this a stand-alone piece?

Thank you! It’s completely stand-alone, there’s some context in my head, but not really anything more than what’s hinted at there. 

[Cash67 Where’s/Perry]

22 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

No Liz today, but here's something else. I think it turned out really beautiful, I hope you guys enjoy it.

And I promise you all today. Whatever you are going through, whatever secret aches you have inside you, there is hope. I promise you. Hold on. Please, please hold on. Even if it doesn't seem as if you can take even one more breath, try. Just try one. And if you can't do anything but survive tonight, that's why we have tomorrow. The sun rises. You can remember how to laugh. There is always someone on your side. Always. I love you guys so much, and if you need me, ever, I'm here. 

This is Love:

  Reveal hidden contents

Matt’s smile was as gentle and warm as a worn blanket when he opened the door. Upon seeing her, it faded into something far more serious, but no less loving. “Sera?”

She opened her mouth, but found herself without words. She looked at him desperately.

“Okay,” he said quickly. “It’s okay. Come in.” She did, and he led her into his small kitchen. His guitar was leaned haphazardly against a cabinet, and the table was littered with papers that proudly displayed his messy scrawl. Rather than sitting in a chair, Sera opted to fold herself into an empty corner on the floor. Matt didn’t comment, only handed her a pillow.

Sera took a long breath. Then another. On her third, she started shaking. After her fourth, she whispered, “w-w-w-will you p-p-play f-for me? O-or talk. Or s-s-sing. O-or b-b-both. I–I n-n-n-n-need–” She flinched back from her own words, pressing back into the corner as if she could melt into the walls.

Matt smiled kindly, and again, the world seemed the tiniest bit less frightening. “It starts with a chord,” he murmured, picking up his guitar. “At least, it does for me.” He strummed once, the strings almost dancing beneath his fingers. “I’ll just be playing something, and then I hit the right chord, and it calls to me. So I play it again and again. I write it, and it grows.” He plucked out a melody, beautiful for its unfamiliarity. “Sometimes it wants words. Sometimes it can’t bear them. Sometimes that first chord isn’t even there in the finished product.” He fell silent for a moment, letting the music continue his story.

Sera tried to keep breathing. She was pulled so tight, her arms wrapped around her torso as if to still her pounding heart. She couldn’t loosen her muscles. If she did, there would be cracks in her armor. If she did, something would sneak into those cracks. And her heart was too fragile for that just then.

Matt scribbled something onto a page, then kept playing. “A lot of times, I get through all the work of creating it just to find out it’s worth nothing. It isn’t good enough, isn’t new enough, it isn’t something the outside will understand.” He winked, and Sera felt her lower lip tremble. “Those are the songs I learn to keep just for me.” 

She didn’t know tears could fall so quickly. Or so inexplicably. The harder she tried to think about it, the faster they fell. How warm tears were. You could get burned with that kind of heat. Maybe, Sera mused, the heat came straight from her heart. It flowed out of her ribcage and boiled all the tears that waited to scald her cheeks. Maybe that was why her face turned so red when she cried. It was the heat. She opened her mouth to explain, and all words fell away.

Matt smiled at her so sadly that she wanted to hide her face from him. “I’m going to make some hot chocolate,” he said. “Would you like some?” Sera gave him a tiny nod. He set down his guitar and pulled a pair of mugs from a cupboard. “I like it when the songs need words,” he said, easily flowing back into his speech. Though she didn't have the words to say it, Sera was infinitely grateful. “It’s more work, sure. But when they need words, I get to sing.” He set a steaming glass mug on the floor in front of her, then settled down himself. “Careful. It’s hot.”

He said nothing for nearly a minute as Sera worked up the courage to stretch out her arm and pick it up. It wasn’t nearly as hot as he’d implied. If she could have remembered how to laugh, she would giggled at his folly. She didn’t drink. Just held it, and tried to let the heat flow back into her. All the warmth she'd had inside had dripped out of her eyes. 

Then Matt started singing. Softly at first, and then louder. He sang in a language she didn’t know. But he felt every word, and through his voice Sera could feel it too. She could feel love. She could feel hope. She could feel safety. And she kept crying, because this was the one place in the world where she could feel such things. 

“You,” Matt said, “are the first person in the world to hear that song. Do you like it?” Sera nodded vigorously. “Can you talk yet?” He asked quietly. Sera opened her mouth, determined. Then she closed it. Then she opened it again, and closed it, and shook her head. Another tear fell. “That’s okay,” Matt said. “You’re doing wonderfully, Sera. Would you like me to keep singing?” Sera nodded, and so he did. She drank and watched him. His eyes shone with a light that came from nowhere but within. The eyes, Sera reasoned, must be the truest path to the heart. His heart must be glowing. He had one piece of hair that stuck just slightly out of place. Only it wasn’t out of place, because sticking up was where it was meant to be. It was perfect in its imperfection. Once his voice cracked, and Sera felt another tear fall, because his broken heart was too beautiful for her to bear.

“I’m sorry,” Sera finally whispered. Matt immediately fell silent, looking at her. “I–I know you hate me,” she said. “A-and you don’t have e-enough t-t-time for th-this.”

Matt nodded once, his eyes on the floor. “I won’t say it’s okay, because it isn’t. But I forgive you, Sera. I forgave you last time, and I forgive you this time, and I’ll forgive you next time.”

If Sera had had any last tears squirreled away, they would have fallen then. She stayed still and silent for a startlingly long time. Longer than she knew she could. Then, so quietly that she wasn’t even sure she’d said it out loud, a single sentence escaped her. “I never loved him.”

Matt’s eyes widened. “Sera,” he said. “You don’t need to–”

“I didn’t,” Sera whispered, and Matt was too kind to dare interrupt her, not when she was barely able to speak. “I never loved him, and I left you, and you hate me, and I’m sorry.”

Now Matt fell silent. Sera was trembling, but she clenched her fists. There were words she needed to say. Before she couldn’t do it anymore. “I’m trying to forgive you,” he said. “I can’t, not yet, but I will.” Sera swallowed and nodded. Mat met her eyes carefully. “Can you tell me why? I know that maybe you can’t. And that’s okay. But if you can find the words…why did you do it, Sera?”

Sera blinked away tears that refused to fall. “I…” For a long, long moment, she couldn’t say anything else. Her heart was beating so fast that it rose into her throat and forced back all the words she wanted to say. “I was scared.”

Matt’s face crumpled. “I never wanted to scare you.”

“I know.” And those were all the words Sera had, so she said them again. “I know.” And then, “Th-that’s why I was scared. You didn’t w-want to h-hurt me.” Matt didn’t say anything, so once she could speak again, Sera continued. “I was s-s-scared to l-love you. A-and he was f-f-familiar. H-he was everything I thought that love w-was. And I th-thought he l-l-loved me.”

“Did he?”

“I don’t know,” Sera whispered. “M-maybe. But h-he’s g-gone now.”

“I know.” Matt smiled, only he looked as if he wanted to cry. “He’s gone, Sera, and he won’t hurt you ever again.”

“He won’t love me either,” she whispered. Because she wanted him to love her. She hated herself for it, but she wanted it back. She wanted him to hurt her. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted him to yell at her until she couldn’t remember how to speak for days afterwards. She wanted him to pull her close and kiss her as if that would fix everything. She wanted to believe that he meant it when he told her he would do anything for her. She wanted him, because when he was there she wasn’t alone. “And you hate me,” she said, “and no one will ever love me.” It was as her father had always said. And at the thought of him, she trembled harder. “Why do you let me come here?” She whispered.

Matt watched her for a long, long moment. “I love you like my own family,” he said. “I love you so much that I can’t help but hate you. I know you, Sera. I know that your eyes turn green when you cry, and I know that you can’t bear for anybody to touch you, and I know that the scar on your cheek came from someone and not something. I know that you were brave enough to leave your family, and that you only stay here because you have nowhere else to go. I know that you’re afraid. And I know that if you disappeared tonight, I would be the only person in the world to notice.” He swallowed, and Sera watched his throat bob. “Of course I hate you, Sera. But I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Sera had to start counting her breaths, then. One. Her heart didn’t want to slow down. Two. She was so afraid. Three. She didn’t need to be afraid anymore. Four. “I’m sorry. A-and thank you.” She’d spoken so quietly, but Matt had heard. He always heard. 

“It’s already forgiven,” he said. “And you’re welcome. You’re always welcome here, Sera. But it’s late, now. Do you think you can go home?”

“I don’t know,” Sera whispered. “I–I can try–”

Matt pursed his lips, then shook his head. “I have a guest bedroom. Would you like to stay tonight?” Sera nodded once. “Okay. Then let’s get you to bed. You have class tomorrow, right?” Sera nodded again. “Okay.”

Once she was settled in the room, Sera turned back. “I’ll try harder tomorrow,” she said, quietly but with more determination than she knew she had left. “I’ll try harder. I-I can’t promise anything for tonight. There are too many demons tonight. But tomorrow. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

Matt smiled. “I know you will. And tomorrow, you’ll do great things. Goodnight, Sera."

“Goodnight,” she breathed. 

He left, and Sera fell to her knees. Her tears had long dried up, but she felt her breath coming quicker as she opened her mouth and started to pray. She couldn’t find it in her to believe in a god, not the way that Matt did. But, she whispered, to whoever’s up there. If you’re there…

Help him.

Help him find someone better than me. Help him, because I don’t remember how to thank him. Help him, because he is the closest thing to an angel this terrible world has ever seen. Help him, be you a god or gods or something else entirely. Help him. And if I can make it through tonight, then kill me so that I can stop hurting him. 

If there’s a heaven, make sure you save him your finest room.

If there’s a hell, don’t tell him, because he’ll find a way to turn the worst demons into angels. 

Help him.

Because I can’t.

And no one else will.

 

storms that hits hard

[Edema Rue she/her]

Here’s another lil scene I wrote…it has a lot of potential, but there are also a lot of things I’d like to change, especially the ending. I think it’d also work better as like…a short animated clip than a short story. But I like it, and I hope y’all do too

Also, there’s a song by The Amazing Devil that’s been stuck in my head for a good minute now called Secret Worlds…it’s kinda woven throughout this scene.

EDIT: and also one called Farewell Wanderlust, it would seem.

Secret Worlds:

Spoiler

The boy could feel it when someone looked over his shoulder. He could tell that someone was reading as he scribbled down word after word. He glanced up furiously at a girl. She grinned, and before he could say a word she grabbed his hand. 

“Come on.” 

He stumbled after her, unsure what else to do. He tried to pull his hand away, but she gripped it tighter, and suddenly they were out the door and into a garden he’d swear he’d never seen before. The girl cocked her head, looking back at him.

“That’s new.”

“What’s new?”

“This.” She winked and gestured out to the flowers and trees. 

He clutched at his notebook. “Who are you?”

“I’m me,” she said, pulling him deeper in. “Come on.”

“Why?” 

“I’m me,” she repeated.

So he followed.

The garden seemed to stretch for an eternity, the boy wrote after. It was every color I’ve ever seen, and a few more too. One of the trees had blossoms, and when I followed her under it they fell, and it looked like snow. The whole world was lost under curtains of white, and all I could hear was laughter. I kept following her, of course I did, and there was so much more. There were flowers brighter than the sun, mountains sharper than knives, grass I wanted to lie on forever…

I don’t have the words to describe it.

But it was a world like nothing I thought existed. 

Just before she left, she said, “Write me well, love.” I don’t know if I can do that.

When she next appeared, it was late. The boy heard a tapping on his window, and looked over to see her face. He blinked, thinking he was dreaming, then stood up and crossed to her. 

“Follow me!” She whispered slyly.

The boy looked longingly back at his warm bed. Then he stepped out the window. On the other side was an unfamiliar street made of stone. Ancient looking houses lined it. When he looked back, his window was fit into a cottage that matched the rest of them. He poked his head back through the window, and he was in his room again. He leaned outside, and he was on a dark street.

“Come on!”

He went. 

There were so many stars. That’s what I noticed most. There were no street lamps, no lights in the distance, and the stars were so bright. It was like someone spilled a bucket of glowing sand across the sky. We walked and she laughed. I know that we talked. I don’t remember what we said.

I know that I asked her name. Right at the start. “What’s your name?” I said.

She looked at me for a long time. It was almost frightening. “The devil knows my name,” she finally said, “so I’d rather you didn’t.”

That was all. I don’t mind. 

Somehow, I don’t think there’s a name that would fit her. 

Her fingers were stained a bright purple as she ate blackberries. He ate them too, from a basket that sat between them on a log. Then, in a moment of strange daring that sent his heart pounding, the boy picked up the basket and scooted into its place. The girl’s eyes filled with delight, and she rested her head on his shoulder. It felt like a challenge. So the boy ran his hand through her hair. 

Today was…

Weird.

I’m not really sure how else to describe it.

She was quiet, subdued. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I wanted to ask if she was okay. I wanted to make it okay. I should have been able to make it okay. It’s—it’s what I do. It’s what I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to know what to say. I didn’t. I think she understood, though.

She kind of smiled. It was a really sad smile. “I don’t think I want to laugh today,” she said. “I don’t think I can. Should we see where it takes us?” I nodded. I grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. She squeezed back. Then we opened the door. 

The place on the other side defied any description I can give. We weren’t inside, but we weren’t outside either. The ground wasn’t stone, or sand, or grass. Wood might be the closest comparison, but it wasn’t that either. There was no color. It wasn’t black and white. It wasn’t gray.

It was colorless.

I don’t think it’s possible to explain how terrifying that was.

There was no color. 

She seemed as scared as I was, so I squeezed her hand tighter. 

Then this darkness came out of her. It didn’t have a color either; it was just dark. It soaked her shirt like blood. It dripped out of her and she gasped. That was scarier. I thought I would lose her. But I didn’t. And then the darkness was flooding off of me, too. It was cold. It was endless.

We ran.

That wasn’t something we could have fought or hid from. It was all the nameless things that sleep with us at night, and they’d been brought to life by whatever secret world we’d tried to escape to.

We have so many secret worlds.

I’d just never seen one so cruel.

But there was a comfort in it. She has the darkness too.

I thought I was the only one.

They called the boy weird. They avoided him as best they could. He couldn’t care. In his most lonely moments, he felt her hand in his. He heard her voice in his mind.

“Write me well, love.”

So the boy kept scribbling into a notebook. And each time the girl appeared, he followed her in a heartbeat.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Terrified.”

Trees. I never expected trees, of all things. 

They were so tall. They were curved and wild and utterly free. And they were huge. Magnificent. I couldn’t even see the sky from the bottom. She led me to a tree and I saw that there was a staircase encircling it. So we climbed. We climbed so high. And at the top, there were branches thicker than most trees’ trunks. We walked out on them and the world became green and bright and even more strange. 

It was like we were birds. We jumped from branch to branch, and for once I didn’t worry that I’d fall. Each pool of light was a shard of stained glass. She danced through them, and I laughed. It felt nice to laugh. 

The girl took him to the sea. 

It wasn’t the one of crystalline water and white sand. This beach was a deep gray, nearly black, and the waves were purple, the foam a dazzling lavender. It crashed against the rocks, and the boy shivered. The girl gasped, and ran forward to touch the water.

“Freezing,” she reported. Then she cocked her head. “What’s wrong?”

“What?” The boy frowned. “Why would something be wrong?”

She raised an eyebrow haughtily. “We don’t find these worlds. We make them.”

“We do?”

“We do.” She smiled softly. “And this world feels like a broken heart.”

“So,” the boy said, understanding, “is it mine, or yours?”

They explored that shattered world for a long time. They found sharp cliffs and icy tide pools. They waded into the water, then ran back to shore when it got too cold to stand. They built a fire of driftwood and sat next to it. 

“She told me to smile,” the boy blurted. The girl met his eyes, listening but not interrupting. “She told me to be happy.” He squeezed his eyes shut, taking several ragged breaths. “I don’t think I can.”

“You don’t need to,” the girl said. 

“But I should be,” the boy said miserably. “I have no reason not to.”

“Yes you do,” the girl said. She put her hand over his heart. “That’s your reason. Remember the darkness? It’s in you. And it’s in me. But it isn’t in her, and so she doesn’t understand it.”

“But…” the boy trailed off. “How can I make her understand?”

“I don’t know.”

“I have to make her understand.” The boy made a motion, as if writing. “I’m supposed to make them understand. I’m supposed to be able to write until they see how it is.”

The girl nodded once. “But do you understand it?”

“No.”

“Then maybe,” she said thoughtfully, “you need to understand it first.”

They sat quietly for a long time, staring into the dancing flames. “I don’t want to go back,” the boy finally said.

“Me either.” The girl swallowed. “It’s frightening there.”

“But you’re so brave.”

The girl shook her head. “Not there. It’s easy to be brave when they aren’t around.”

“Oh.” The boy didn’t have the words. He wanted to say something. He wanted to tell her she was the bravest person he’d ever met. He wanted to explain how much he trusted her. He wanted to say he understood. But the words in his mouth were clumsy, not like on paper. None of them seemed to be what he meant. So he put his arm around her shoulder. “Maybe we can stay here for a while.”

“That sounds nice.”

She’s—

I’m—

We

I don’t

I can’t

I don’t have the words.

I don’t have the words. 

I wanted…

I…

Hoped.

I hoped.

She

She let me

Hope.

And now—

No.

I can’t.

I…

I could write it.

I could write it all.

The words would come.

But they wouldn’t

They wouldn’t be right. 

They wouldn’t feel.

They wouldn’t show

That I

Feel.

I know it couldn’t last forever.

I don’t

Know why

I expected it to.

Because now she’s gone, she’s gone, she’s gone she’s gone SHE’S GONE and I

I don’t

There’s

Nothing.

I 

Numb.

I’m numb.

I can’t

Cry

Why can’t I cry?

I keep looking

Outside

And waiting

For her

To

To

To be there.

I can’t

Quite

Comprehend.

I can’t

Believe

That she isn’t

Coming back.

She isn’t

Coming back.

He took her he took her he took her

He took her. 

She told me she warned me

The devil knows my name, she said, the devil knows my name and the devil knew her name, he knew her name and he took her away and she’s gone

She’s

Gone

Because I

Asked

I asked

Why did I ask

I wanted

I thought

We were safe

That whole place

It was so dark. It was so terrible.

It was my

Fault

My fault my fault my fault all my fault my fault

my

fault

She came

“I don’t think we should go today,” she said. We were both hurting so much, and she knew what would happen if we went in. I told her okay, I told her we could stay. We didn’t have to make anything today. And then

I opened

My bedroom

Door

And on the other side

The other side

The other

The other side.

It was

It

It

It was

I can’t write it.

I don’t want to see it.

But

I have to

If 

If I don’t write it

Then they

Won’t know

They won’t know

About her. 

I can’t let myself forget her.

I can’t let them think nothing happened.

I opened the door and it pulled me through. And before I even realized what was happening, she jumped through after me.

She was so brave.

The boy and girl fell into a world of sharp things, cold things, dark things, angry things. Everything in it wanted to destroy them. It tore at their faces and it tore at their hearts. 

“Look at me,” the girl whispered. “Look at me.”

The boy met her eyes. “You don’t have to be scared here,” he whispered.

“And you don’t have to be alone,” she said. He gripped her hand, and she entwined their fingers. “This is our world, remember?”

“Our world,” he repeated. “Our broken hearts, our paradise. Ours.”

“Ours.”

The boy leaned to her, and she pressed her mouth to his for a single, desperate moment. “We don’t need to be scared here,” he repeated.

The world heard them, and it answered them. It calmed. As their hearts stopped pounding, the storm slowed to a gentle fall of rain. The boy looked at the girl, and together they burst into laughter. Soaking wet, filled with adrenaline, they laughed. 

“So,” the girl finally said. 

“So,” the boy repeated. “We. Uh. We’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” the girl said, brushing away a lingering tear. “We…will. We will.”

The boy watched her for a long moment. She watched him back. “What’s your name?” He asked quietly.

She stiffened. “I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t?” The boy asked sadly, “or won’t? Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” the girl said, leaning into him. “More than anyone.”

“I don’t know your name.”

The girl hesitated. She hesitated for a long, long moment. “Okay,” she whispered. “But you can’t use it. You can’t say it, not even once, because he knows my name.”

The boy nodded, and the girl leaned and breathed a single word into his ear. 

It happened before I could stop myself.

I…

I said her name. I repeated it. I wanted to feel it on my tongue, I wanted to hear it spoken out loud.

“Ari,” I said.

And she screamed. 

She sounded so scared, so hurt. She—

She sounded like she must have felt.

Like she knew what I’d done.

Then he was there, a thin figure in a black cloak. He stalked towards her, he reached for her and she hid behind me. I

I was

She

I

She turned to me to protect her. It was my fault it was my fault and she trusted me to protect her

And I froze

I

Froze.

He put his arm around her waist. “I’ve missed you, Ari,” he crooned. And I opened my mouth but I couldn’t speak and she was screaming, screaming, screaming. “It’s okay,” he told her. 

“You don’t need to be afraid here.”

She shouldn’t have needed to be afraid.

It was our world

It was

Ours

But he held her

And the storm

Turned

From rain to thunder and lightning and wind

It came back

So much stronger

Than before. 

The wind whipped at our faces, and just then I saw her darkness

The shadow that lived in her most secret heart

It exploded out

And it

It overcame her

It surrounded her

I reached

I tried

I promise

Ari

I tried

But he reached first.

He ran his hand along her cheek, and darkness trailed from his fingertips like a weapon. He took the pain we’ve been fighting and learned to use it. 

The girl struggled against the grip of the devil. The boy tried to reach her and found himself caught in the storm. 

Then the devil turned, and he met my eyes, and then I was falling out of the world. “Thanks,” he hissed, “for calling me.” 

She watched me. Her eyes were wide and terrified, and I knew her heart was beating too fast. I opened my mouth, but he spoke first, and then I was back in my room.

“It’s too bad you couldn’t protect her.”

I couldn’t

I couldn’t protect her

She’s

She

She

Gone.

She’s gone.

I’m sorry.

I’m so

I’m so 

Sorry.

 

[BlueWildRye he/him]

47 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

Here’s another lil scene I wrote…it has a lot of potential, but there are also a lot of things I’d like to change, especially the ending. I think it’d also work better as like…a short animated clip than a short story. But I like it, and I hope y’all do too

Also, there’s a song by The Amazing Devil that’s been stuck in my head for a good minute now called Secret Worlds…it’s kinda woven throughout this scene.

EDIT: and also one called Farewell Wanderlust, it would seem.

Secret Worlds:

  Hide contents

The boy could feel it when someone looked over his shoulder. He could tell that someone was reading as he scribbled down word after word. He glanced up furiously at a girl. She grinned, and before he could say a word she grabbed his hand. 

“Come on.” 

He stumbled after her, unsure what else to do. He tried to pull his hand away, but she gripped it tighter, and suddenly they were out the door and into a garden he’d swear he’d never seen before. The girl cocked her head, looking back at him.

“That’s new.”

“What’s new?”

“This.” She winked and gestured out to the flowers and trees. 

He clutched at his notebook. “Who are you?”

“I’m me,” she said, pulling him deeper in. “Come on.”

“Why?” 

“I’m me,” she repeated.

So he followed.

The garden seemed to stretch for an eternity, the boy wrote after. It was every color I’ve ever seen, and a few more too. One of the trees had blossoms, and when I followed her under it they fell, and it looked like snow. The whole world was lost under curtains of white, and all I could hear was laughter. I kept following her, of course I did, and there was so much more. There were flowers brighter than the sun, mountains sharper than knives, grass I wanted to lie on forever…

I don’t have the words to describe it.

But it was a world like nothing I thought existed. 

Just before she left, she said, “Write me well, love.” I don’t know if I can do that.

When she next appeared, it was late. The boy heard a tapping on his window, and looked over to see her face. He blinked, thinking he was dreaming, then stood up and crossed to her. 

“Follow me!” She whispered slyly.

The boy looked longingly back at his warm bed. Then he stepped out the window. On the other side was an unfamiliar street made of stone. Ancient looking houses lined it. When he looked back, his window was fit into a cottage that matched the rest of them. He poked his head back through the window, and he was in his room again. He leaned outside, and he was on a dark street.

“Come on!”

He went. 

There were so many stars. That’s what I noticed most. There were no street lamps, no lights in the distance, and the stars were so bright. It was like someone spilled a bucket of glowing sand across the sky. We walked and she laughed. I know that we talked. I don’t remember what we said.

I know that I asked her name. Right at the start. “What’s your name?” I said.

She looked at me for a long time. It was almost frightening. “The devil knows my name,” she finally said, “so I’d rather you didn’t.”

That was all. I don’t mind. 

Somehow, I don’t think there’s a name that would fit her. 

Her fingers were stained a bright purple as she ate blackberries. He ate them too, from a basket that sat between them on a log. Then, in a moment of strange daring that sent his heart pounding, the boy picked up the basket and scooted into its place. The girl’s eyes filled with delight, and she rested her head on his shoulder. It felt like a challenge. So the boy ran his hand through her hair. 

Today was…

Weird.

I’m not really sure how else to describe it.

She was quiet, subdued. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I wanted to ask if she was okay. I wanted to make it okay. I should have been able to make it okay. It’s—it’s what I do. It’s what I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to know what to say. I didn’t. I think she understood, though.

She kind of smiled. It was a really sad smile. “I don’t think I want to laugh today,” she said. “I don’t think I can. Should we see where it takes us?” I nodded. I grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. She squeezed back. Then we opened the door. 

The place on the other side defied any description I can give. We weren’t inside, but we weren’t outside either. The ground wasn’t stone, or sand, or grass. Wood might be the closest comparison, but it wasn’t that either. There was no color. It wasn’t black and white. It wasn’t gray.

It was colorless.

I don’t think it’s possible to explain how terrifying that was.

There was no color. 

She seemed as scared as I was, so I squeezed her hand tighter. 

Then this darkness came out of her. It didn’t have a color either; it was just dark. It soaked her shirt like blood. It dripped out of her and she gasped. That was scarier. I thought I would lose her. But I didn’t. And then the darkness was flooding off of me, too. It was cold. It was endless.

We ran.

That wasn’t something we could have fought or hid from. It was all the nameless things that sleep with us at night, and they’d been brought to life by whatever secret world we’d tried to escape to.

We have so many secret worlds.

I’d just never seen one so cruel.

But there was a comfort in it. She has the darkness too.

I thought I was the only one.

They called the boy weird. They avoided him as best they could. He couldn’t care. In his most lonely moments, he felt her hand in his. He heard her voice in his mind.

“Write me well, love.”

So the boy kept scribbling into a notebook. And each time the girl appeared, he followed her in a heartbeat.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Terrified.”

Trees. I never expected trees, of all things. 

They were so tall. They were curved and wild and utterly free. And they were huge. Magnificent. I couldn’t even see the sky from the bottom. She led me to a tree and I saw that there was a staircase encircling it. So we climbed. We climbed so high. And at the top, there were branches thicker than most trees’ trunks. We walked out on them and the world became green and bright and even more strange. 

It was like we were birds. We jumped from branch to branch, and for once I didn’t worry that I’d fall. Each pool of light was a shard of stained glass. She danced through them, and I laughed. It felt nice to laugh. 

The girl took him to the sea. 

It wasn’t the one of crystalline water and white sand. This beach was a deep gray, nearly black, and the waves were purple, the foam a dazzling lavender. It crashed against the rocks, and the boy shivered. The girl gasped, and ran forward to touch the water.

“Freezing,” she reported. Then she cocked her head. “What’s wrong?”

“What?” The boy frowned. “Why would something be wrong?”

She raised an eyebrow haughtily. “We don’t find these worlds. We make them.”

“We do?”

“We do.” She smiled softly. “And this world feels like a broken heart.”

“So,” the boy said, understanding, “is it mine, or yours?”

They explored that shattered world for a long time. They found sharp cliffs and icy tide pools. They waded into the water, then ran back to shore when it got too cold to stand. They built a fire of driftwood and sat next to it. 

“She told me to smile,” the boy blurted. The girl met his eyes, listening but not interrupting. “She told me to be happy.” He squeezed his eyes shut, taking several ragged breaths. “I don’t think I can.”

“You don’t need to,” the girl said. 

“But I should be,” the boy said miserably. “I have no reason not to.”

“Yes you do,” the girl said. She put her hand over his heart. “That’s your reason. Remember the darkness? It’s in you. And it’s in me. But it isn’t in her, and so she doesn’t understand it.”

“But…” the boy trailed off. “How can I make her understand?”

“I don’t know.”

“I have to make her understand.” The boy made a motion, as if writing. “I’m supposed to make them understand. I’m supposed to be able to write until they see how it is.”

The girl nodded once. “But do you understand it?”

“No.”

“Then maybe,” she said thoughtfully, “you need to understand it first.”

They sat quietly for a long time, staring into the dancing flames. “I don’t want to go back,” the boy finally said.

“Me either.” The girl swallowed. “It’s frightening there.”

“But you’re so brave.”

The girl shook her head. “Not there. It’s easy to be brave when they aren’t around.”

“Oh.” The boy didn’t have the words. He wanted to say something. He wanted to tell her she was the bravest person he’d ever met. He wanted to explain how much he trusted her. He wanted to say he understood. But the words in his mouth were clumsy, not like on paper. None of them seemed to be what he meant. So he put his arm around her shoulder. “Maybe we can stay here for a while.”

“That sounds nice.”

She’s—

I’m—

We

I don’t

I can’t

I don’t have the words.

I don’t have the words. 

I wanted…

I…

Hoped.

I hoped.

She

She let me

Hope.

And now—

No.

I can’t.

I…

I could write it.

I could write it all.

The words would come.

But they wouldn’t

They wouldn’t be right. 

They wouldn’t feel.

They wouldn’t show

That I

Feel.

I know it couldn’t last forever.

I don’t

Know why

I expected it to.

Because now she’s gone, she’s gone, she’s gone she’s gone SHE’S GONE and I

I don’t

There’s

Nothing.

I 

Numb.

I’m numb.

I can’t

Cry

Why can’t I cry?

I keep looking

Outside

And waiting

For her

To

To

To be there.

I can’t

Quite

Comprehend.

I can’t

Believe

That she isn’t

Coming back.

She isn’t

Coming back.

He took her he took her he took her

He took her. 

She told me she warned me

The devil knows my name, she said, the devil knows my name and the devil knew her name, he knew her name and he took her away and she’s gone

She’s

Gone

Because I

Asked

I asked

Why did I ask

I wanted

I thought

We were safe

That whole place

It was so dark. It was so terrible.

It was my

Fault

My fault my fault my fault all my fault my fault

my

fault

She came

“I don’t think we should go today,” she said. We were both hurting so much, and she knew what would happen if we went in. I told her okay, I told her we could stay. We didn’t have to make anything today. And then

I opened

My bedroom

Door

And on the other side

The other side

The other

The other side.

It was

It

It

It was

I can’t write it.

I don’t want to see it.

But

I have to

If 

If I don’t write it

Then they

Won’t know

They won’t know

About her. 

I can’t let myself forget her.

I can’t let them think nothing happened.

I opened the door and it pulled me through. And before I even realized what was happening, she jumped through after me.

She was so brave.

The boy and girl fell into a world of sharp things, cold things, dark things, angry things. Everything in it wanted to destroy them. It tore at their faces and it tore at their hearts. 

“Look at me,” the girl whispered. “Look at me.”

The boy met her eyes. “You don’t have to be scared here,” he whispered.

“And you don’t have to be alone,” she said. He gripped her hand, and she entwined their fingers. “This is our world, remember?”

“Our world,” he repeated. “Our broken hearts, our paradise. Ours.”

“Ours.”

The boy leaned to her, and she pressed her mouth to his for a single, desperate moment. “We don’t need to be scared here,” he repeated.

The world heard them, and it answered them. It calmed. As their hearts stopped pounding, the storm slowed to a gentle fall of rain. The boy looked at the girl, and together they burst into laughter. Soaking wet, filled with adrenaline, they laughed. 

“So,” the girl finally said. 

“So,” the boy repeated. “We. Uh. We’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” the girl said, brushing away a lingering tear. “We…will. We will.”

The boy watched her for a long moment. She watched him back. “What’s your name?” He asked quietly.

She stiffened. “I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t?” The boy asked sadly, “or won’t? Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” the girl said, leaning into him. “More than anyone.”

“I don’t know your name.”

The girl hesitated. She hesitated for a long, long moment. “Okay,” she whispered. “But you can’t use it. You can’t say it, not even once, because he knows my name.”

The boy nodded, and the girl leaned and breathed a single word into his ear. 

It happened before I could stop myself.

I…

I said her name. I repeated it. I wanted to feel it on my tongue, I wanted to hear it spoken out loud.

“Ari,” I said.

And she screamed. 

She sounded so scared, so hurt. She—

She sounded like she must have felt.

Like she knew what I’d done.

Then he was there, a thin figure in a black cloak. He stalked towards her, he reached for her and she hid behind me. I

I was

She

I

She turned to me to protect her. It was my fault it was my fault and she trusted me to protect her

And I froze

I

Froze.

He put his arm around her waist. “I’ve missed you, Ari,” he crooned. And I opened my mouth but I couldn’t speak and she was screaming, screaming, screaming. “It’s okay,” he told her. 

“You don’t need to be afraid here.”

She shouldn’t have needed to be afraid.

It was our world

It was

Ours

But he held her

And the storm

Turned

From rain to thunder and lightning and wind

It came back

So much stronger

Than before. 

The wind whipped at our faces, and just then I saw her darkness

The shadow that lived in her most secret heart

It exploded out

And it

It overcame her

It surrounded her

I reached

I tried

I promise

Ari

I tried

But he reached first.

He ran his hand along her cheek, and darkness trailed from his fingertips like a weapon. He took the pain we’ve been fighting and learned to use it. 

The girl struggled against the grip of the devil. The boy tried to reach her and found himself caught in the storm. 

Then the devil turned, and he met my eyes, and then I was falling out of the world. “Thanks,” he hissed, “for calling me.” 

She watched me. Her eyes were wide and terrified, and I knew her heart was beating too fast. I opened my mouth, but he spoke first, and then I was back in my room.

“It’s too bad you couldn’t protect her.”

I couldn’t

I couldn’t protect her

She’s

She

She

Gone.

She’s gone.

I’m sorry.

I’m so

I’m so 

Sorry.

 

Kinda gives me Orpheus and Eurydice vibes at the end. Really good, once again. I almost cried.

[Weaver of Lies he/him]

57 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

Here’s another lil scene I wrote…it has a lot of potential, but there are also a lot of things I’d like to change, especially the ending. I think it’d also work better as like…a short animated clip than a short story. But I like it, and I hope y’all do too

Also, there’s a song by The Amazing Devil that’s been stuck in my head for a good minute now called Secret Worlds…it’s kinda woven throughout this scene.

EDIT: and also one called Farewell Wanderlust, it would seem.

Secret Worlds:

  Hide contents

The boy could feel it when someone looked over his shoulder. He could tell that someone was reading as he scribbled down word after word. He glanced up furiously at a girl. She grinned, and before he could say a word she grabbed his hand. 

“Come on.” 

He stumbled after her, unsure what else to do. He tried to pull his hand away, but she gripped it tighter, and suddenly they were out the door and into a garden he’d swear he’d never seen before. The girl cocked her head, looking back at him.

“That’s new.”

“What’s new?”

“This.” She winked and gestured out to the flowers and trees. 

He clutched at his notebook. “Who are you?”

“I’m me,” she said, pulling him deeper in. “Come on.”

“Why?” 

“I’m me,” she repeated.

So he followed.

The garden seemed to stretch for an eternity, the boy wrote after. It was every color I’ve ever seen, and a few more too. One of the trees had blossoms, and when I followed her under it they fell, and it looked like snow. The whole world was lost under curtains of white, and all I could hear was laughter. I kept following her, of course I did, and there was so much more. There were flowers brighter than the sun, mountains sharper than knives, grass I wanted to lie on forever…

I don’t have the words to describe it.

But it was a world like nothing I thought existed. 

Just before she left, she said, “Write me well, love.” I don’t know if I can do that.

When she next appeared, it was late. The boy heard a tapping on his window, and looked over to see her face. He blinked, thinking he was dreaming, then stood up and crossed to her. 

“Follow me!” She whispered slyly.

The boy looked longingly back at his warm bed. Then he stepped out the window. On the other side was an unfamiliar street made of stone. Ancient looking houses lined it. When he looked back, his window was fit into a cottage that matched the rest of them. He poked his head back through the window, and he was in his room again. He leaned outside, and he was on a dark street.

“Come on!”

He went. 

There were so many stars. That’s what I noticed most. There were no street lamps, no lights in the distance, and the stars were so bright. It was like someone spilled a bucket of glowing sand across the sky. We walked and she laughed. I know that we talked. I don’t remember what we said.

I know that I asked her name. Right at the start. “What’s your name?” I said.

She looked at me for a long time. It was almost frightening. “The devil knows my name,” she finally said, “so I’d rather you didn’t.”

That was all. I don’t mind. 

Somehow, I don’t think there’s a name that would fit her. 

Her fingers were stained a bright purple as she ate blackberries. He ate them too, from a basket that sat between them on a log. Then, in a moment of strange daring that sent his heart pounding, the boy picked up the basket and scooted into its place. The girl’s eyes filled with delight, and she rested her head on his shoulder. It felt like a challenge. So the boy ran his hand through her hair. 

Today was…

Weird.

I’m not really sure how else to describe it.

She was quiet, subdued. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I wanted to ask if she was okay. I wanted to make it okay. I should have been able to make it okay. It’s—it’s what I do. It’s what I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to know what to say. I didn’t. I think she understood, though.

She kind of smiled. It was a really sad smile. “I don’t think I want to laugh today,” she said. “I don’t think I can. Should we see where it takes us?” I nodded. I grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. She squeezed back. Then we opened the door. 

The place on the other side defied any description I can give. We weren’t inside, but we weren’t outside either. The ground wasn’t stone, or sand, or grass. Wood might be the closest comparison, but it wasn’t that either. There was no color. It wasn’t black and white. It wasn’t gray.

It was colorless.

I don’t think it’s possible to explain how terrifying that was.

There was no color. 

She seemed as scared as I was, so I squeezed her hand tighter. 

Then this darkness came out of her. It didn’t have a color either; it was just dark. It soaked her shirt like blood. It dripped out of her and she gasped. That was scarier. I thought I would lose her. But I didn’t. And then the darkness was flooding off of me, too. It was cold. It was endless.

We ran.

That wasn’t something we could have fought or hid from. It was all the nameless things that sleep with us at night, and they’d been brought to life by whatever secret world we’d tried to escape to.

We have so many secret worlds.

I’d just never seen one so cruel.

But there was a comfort in it. She has the darkness too.

I thought I was the only one.

They called the boy weird. They avoided him as best they could. He couldn’t care. In his most lonely moments, he felt her hand in his. He heard her voice in his mind.

“Write me well, love.”

So the boy kept scribbling into a notebook. And each time the girl appeared, he followed her in a heartbeat.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Terrified.”

Trees. I never expected trees, of all things. 

They were so tall. They were curved and wild and utterly free. And they were huge. Magnificent. I couldn’t even see the sky from the bottom. She led me to a tree and I saw that there was a staircase encircling it. So we climbed. We climbed so high. And at the top, there were branches thicker than most trees’ trunks. We walked out on them and the world became green and bright and even more strange. 

It was like we were birds. We jumped from branch to branch, and for once I didn’t worry that I’d fall. Each pool of light was a shard of stained glass. She danced through them, and I laughed. It felt nice to laugh. 

The girl took him to the sea. 

It wasn’t the one of crystalline water and white sand. This beach was a deep gray, nearly black, and the waves were purple, the foam a dazzling lavender. It crashed against the rocks, and the boy shivered. The girl gasped, and ran forward to touch the water.

“Freezing,” she reported. Then she cocked her head. “What’s wrong?”

“What?” The boy frowned. “Why would something be wrong?”

She raised an eyebrow haughtily. “We don’t find these worlds. We make them.”

“We do?”

“We do.” She smiled softly. “And this world feels like a broken heart.”

“So,” the boy said, understanding, “is it mine, or yours?”

They explored that shattered world for a long time. They found sharp cliffs and icy tide pools. They waded into the water, then ran back to shore when it got too cold to stand. They built a fire of driftwood and sat next to it. 

“She told me to smile,” the boy blurted. The girl met his eyes, listening but not interrupting. “She told me to be happy.” He squeezed his eyes shut, taking several ragged breaths. “I don’t think I can.”

“You don’t need to,” the girl said. 

“But I should be,” the boy said miserably. “I have no reason not to.”

“Yes you do,” the girl said. She put her hand over his heart. “That’s your reason. Remember the darkness? It’s in you. And it’s in me. But it isn’t in her, and so she doesn’t understand it.”

“But…” the boy trailed off. “How can I make her understand?”

“I don’t know.”

“I have to make her understand.” The boy made a motion, as if writing. “I’m supposed to make them understand. I’m supposed to be able to write until they see how it is.”

The girl nodded once. “But do you understand it?”

“No.”

“Then maybe,” she said thoughtfully, “you need to understand it first.”

They sat quietly for a long time, staring into the dancing flames. “I don’t want to go back,” the boy finally said.

“Me either.” The girl swallowed. “It’s frightening there.”

“But you’re so brave.”

The girl shook her head. “Not there. It’s easy to be brave when they aren’t around.”

“Oh.” The boy didn’t have the words. He wanted to say something. He wanted to tell her she was the bravest person he’d ever met. He wanted to explain how much he trusted her. He wanted to say he understood. But the words in his mouth were clumsy, not like on paper. None of them seemed to be what he meant. So he put his arm around her shoulder. “Maybe we can stay here for a while.”

“That sounds nice.”

She’s—

I’m—

We

I don’t

I can’t

I don’t have the words.

I don’t have the words. 

I wanted…

I…

Hoped.

I hoped.

She

She let me

Hope.

And now—

No.

I can’t.

I…

I could write it.

I could write it all.

The words would come.

But they wouldn’t

They wouldn’t be right. 

They wouldn’t feel.

They wouldn’t show

That I

Feel.

I know it couldn’t last forever.

I don’t

Know why

I expected it to.

Because now she’s gone, she’s gone, she’s gone she’s gone SHE’S GONE and I

I don’t

There’s

Nothing.

I 

Numb.

I’m numb.

I can’t

Cry

Why can’t I cry?

I keep looking

Outside

And waiting

For her

To

To

To be there.

I can’t

Quite

Comprehend.

I can’t

Believe

That she isn’t

Coming back.

She isn’t

Coming back.

He took her he took her he took her

He took her. 

She told me she warned me

The devil knows my name, she said, the devil knows my name and the devil knew her name, he knew her name and he took her away and she’s gone

She’s

Gone

Because I

Asked

I asked

Why did I ask

I wanted

I thought

We were safe

That whole place

It was so dark. It was so terrible.

It was my

Fault

My fault my fault my fault all my fault my fault

my

fault

She came

“I don’t think we should go today,” she said. We were both hurting so much, and she knew what would happen if we went in. I told her okay, I told her we could stay. We didn’t have to make anything today. And then

I opened

My bedroom

Door

And on the other side

The other side

The other

The other side.

It was

It

It

It was

I can’t write it.

I don’t want to see it.

But

I have to

If 

If I don’t write it

Then they

Won’t know

They won’t know

About her. 

I can’t let myself forget her.

I can’t let them think nothing happened.

I opened the door and it pulled me through. And before I even realized what was happening, she jumped through after me.

She was so brave.

The boy and girl fell into a world of sharp things, cold things, dark things, angry things. Everything in it wanted to destroy them. It tore at their faces and it tore at their hearts. 

“Look at me,” the girl whispered. “Look at me.”

The boy met her eyes. “You don’t have to be scared here,” he whispered.

“And you don’t have to be alone,” she said. He gripped her hand, and she entwined their fingers. “This is our world, remember?”

“Our world,” he repeated. “Our broken hearts, our paradise. Ours.”

“Ours.”

The boy leaned to her, and she pressed her mouth to his for a single, desperate moment. “We don’t need to be scared here,” he repeated.

The world heard them, and it answered them. It calmed. As their hearts stopped pounding, the storm slowed to a gentle fall of rain. The boy looked at the girl, and together they burst into laughter. Soaking wet, filled with adrenaline, they laughed. 

“So,” the girl finally said. 

“So,” the boy repeated. “We. Uh. We’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” the girl said, brushing away a lingering tear. “We…will. We will.”

The boy watched her for a long moment. She watched him back. “What’s your name?” He asked quietly.

She stiffened. “I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t?” The boy asked sadly, “or won’t? Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” the girl said, leaning into him. “More than anyone.”

“I don’t know your name.”

The girl hesitated. She hesitated for a long, long moment. “Okay,” she whispered. “But you can’t use it. You can’t say it, not even once, because he knows my name.”

The boy nodded, and the girl leaned and breathed a single word into his ear. 

It happened before I could stop myself.

I…

I said her name. I repeated it. I wanted to feel it on my tongue, I wanted to hear it spoken out loud.

“Ari,” I said.

And she screamed. 

She sounded so scared, so hurt. She—

She sounded like she must have felt.

Like she knew what I’d done.

Then he was there, a thin figure in a black cloak. He stalked towards her, he reached for her and she hid behind me. I

I was

She

I

She turned to me to protect her. It was my fault it was my fault and she trusted me to protect her

And I froze

I

Froze.

He put his arm around her waist. “I’ve missed you, Ari,” he crooned. And I opened my mouth but I couldn’t speak and she was screaming, screaming, screaming. “It’s okay,” he told her. 

“You don’t need to be afraid here.”

She shouldn’t have needed to be afraid.

It was our world

It was

Ours

But he held her

And the storm

Turned

From rain to thunder and lightning and wind

It came back

So much stronger

Than before. 

The wind whipped at our faces, and just then I saw her darkness

The shadow that lived in her most secret heart

It exploded out

And it

It overcame her

It surrounded her

I reached

I tried

I promise

Ari

I tried

But he reached first.

He ran his hand along her cheek, and darkness trailed from his fingertips like a weapon. He took the pain we’ve been fighting and learned to use it. 

The girl struggled against the grip of the devil. The boy tried to reach her and found himself caught in the storm. 

Then the devil turned, and he met my eyes, and then I was falling out of the world. “Thanks,” he hissed, “for calling me.” 

She watched me. Her eyes were wide and terrified, and I knew her heart was beating too fast. I opened my mouth, but he spoke first, and then I was back in my room.

“It’s too bad you couldn’t protect her.”

I couldn’t

I couldn’t protect her

She’s

She

She

Gone.

She’s gone.

I’m sorry.

I’m so

I’m so 

Sorry.

 

Incredible. I want in my heart for it to end differently (not saying it needs to) which is a good thing, it means it was well written enough for me to get attached.

[Edema Rue she/her]

Guys I have Liz and pirates and many fun things coming I promise

It’ll be epic 

as soon as I have the motivation to write

Spoiler

help  

 

[BlueWildRye he/him]

46 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

Guys I have Liz and pirates and many fun things coming I promise

It’ll be epic 

as soon as I have the motivation to write

  Reveal hidden contents

help  

 

Ooh I love pirates. As for the writer's block, listen to some cool music. Idk maybe it'll help. Sometimes it helps me.

[Edema Rue she/her]

Ok, it’s not done yet but here’s part 1 of a pirate story I’m writing for some reason that definitely isn’t because I love Will Turner

Spoiler

Even the sea was holding its breath that morning. Some might say it was ideal weather for a jaunt on a ship. Those would be nobles and fools; true sailors could feel the apprehension in the air. There was a chill that went straight to one’s bones, and the sun seemed almost afraid to shine. A faint mist had spread as the sun rose. 

Sal grinned. It was a good morning, then. 

“Captain,” a voice called from above her. Shielding her eyes, Sal glanced to the crow’s nest. 

“Ay, El?”

“We’ve lost sight on her,” the young sailor said. “She could be anywhere.”

Sal’s grin deepened. “She’ll be to the East. Don’t bother looking, you’ll only blind yourself in the sun. That’s what they want.”

“Ay, Captain.” El hesitated. “Today’s the day, then.”

“Ay, El. It’s a fine day for it, too.”

“Will we win?”

“That’s the best part,” Sal said, throwing up a knife so that it stuck in the mast above his head. “We won’t know until three days after the fight.” She stalked belowdecks with a wink, leaving El shaking their head in confusion. It was a very good day. They’d first caught sight of the royal ship over two weeks ago. That had started the chase. Lower rations, more frequent shift changes, no lanterns after the sun had dipped below the horizon. All of last night, Sal had watched the ship gain on them. She knew when a fight was coming, and today she could feel it. It would be a good one.

“Cap’n,” Wood greeted her. Sal nodded to him. Wood wasn’t his real name, of course, but no one could remember calling him anything else. Finn had once joked that he was “more tree than person.” Wood had nearly taken the boy’s head off.

“It’s coming, isn’t it?” Alina asked from his side. “You only smile like that when you know you’ll get to shoot someone later.”

“It’s today,” Sal confirmed. “Get moving, and be ready for a fight.”

“Aye,” Alina said, a dangerous smirk curling across her scarred face. She and Wood moved for the main deck.

Sal continued belowdecks, smiling widely. When she saw limp forms in hammocks, she nearly laughed. Then she whistled once, loud and long and shrill. Everything moved at once as sailors scrambled out of hammocks, into boots.

“Out!” She called. “Move, move! It’s a fighting day, lads and ladies. Get on deck, you bunch of lazy slugs!” In less than two minutes they were gone. 

In the distance, Sal heard a cannon. She waited a moment longer. Any second now…there. She breathed in deeply, feeling her heart pound, feeling the adrenaline rushing through her veins. This was what she lived for. This moment. She had no idea if she’d survive the day. By the Forgotten Gods, she had no idea if she’d survive the next hour, the next minute, the next second. Sal sprinted for the ladder, feeling the familiar rungs under her hands. The Fallen Leaf wasn’t a kind ship, but it got the job done. Welcome home, she thought wryly. Welcome home.

On deck, Sal whistled orders. Her crew carried them out almost before they left her lips. Short-short: hard to starboard. Long-short-long: lower the sails. Long-long: load cannons, but don’t fire. Dozens of signals, commands she didn’t even need to speak. The crew knew the whistles. They were high and loud, carrying over the sound of shouting, of wind, of waves. Even of cannons, if they were far enough away. Her crew heard and obeyed, and this way everyone knew what everyone else was doing. 

Her boots clicked on the deck as she paced. The ship that chased them was sleek. Clearly one of the navy’s new frigates. They took a smaller crew, and few supplies, but they could sail like none other. Sal cursed. Fire.

Shots rang out, and Sal watched the cannonballs arc across the water. All but one splashed harmlessly into the waves. Hard to port! Harder to port! The Fallen Leaf narrowly avoided a barrage of cannon fire. Sal watched the fight for a long moment. Her people were good, but the Leaf was old and slow. Their shots flew wild, and they couldn’t evade.

So, making eye contact with her helmsman, Sal let out three long whistles. Get in close. Every sound seemed distant as Jes spun the wheel sharply. She thought she heard Alina laughing. She blew a single short whistle, but it was barely needed. Sal brushed a braid out of her face and grinned, ready to board. 

In only moments, the battle was raging on both ships. Sal’s crew swung across on ropes; the soldiers set down planks. El shot from the crow’s nest, and steel rang on steel as the enemy grew too close for guns.

Someone ran at Sal, waving a sword. He looked younger than Finn. “Die, filthy pirate!” He screamed. Well. That was rude.

Sal stabbed him, tossing his body over the side. She’d have to cross and find the captain. This sort wouldn’t fight after he was down, and Sal knew without a doubt that a prolonged fight would only end in disaster. She whistled several notes in quick succession. All her orders were the same high pitch, but each of her crew had a “name” she could call as needed. The ones she’d called had heard, and they’d back her up.

Some, Sal reasoned, might call it dishonorable to fight this way. They’d want us to fight one on one, or such nonsense. 

It’s too bad. Cheating is what makes the game so fun.

Then she felt a sudden, sharp pain in her neck. The world seemed to blur, and Sal reached up a hand to feel something feathery.

Stars.

***

When Sal woke up, she could feel splintery wood digging into the side of her cheek. There was cool metal around her wrists and ankles. She sat up with a grunt, hearing chains jingle loudly. She winced. Her head pounded worse than if she’d been at the rum all night.

“Good morning, Captain.” Sal’s eyes snapped to the figure just outside her cell.

“I’m no Captain,” she said reflexively.

The figure—a young man, she could see as her vision cleared—laughed. “Not anymore, you aren’t.”

“I never was,” Sal droned patronizingly. “Look for Alina. Big hat. She’s the one you’ll want.”

“Cut the games, Captain,” the man said sharply. “We’ve beaten you. As soon as we’re back on land, you’ll find a noose around your neck.”

“I told you,” Sal said, trying to look desperate, “I’m not the Captain. Just a lowly sailor. Please, I never wanted—”

“Cut. The. Games.” The man’s eyes darkened. “We offered your crew a full pardon if they’d give up their Captain. Your name was brought up without fail.”

Sal cursed. “Of course it was,” she groused fondly. “Bloody rats. They’re framing me.”

“No, they aren’t.” The young man met her gaze flatly. “I know who you are, Silvia Vilcas.”

Sal stiffened. “Who are you?” The joking was gone from her tone. 

The man grinned. “My name is Jonathan Balentis.”

Sal blinked.

He groaned. “Seriously?”

Sal shrugged helplessly. “I meet a lot of people…”

“Jon? Jonny? Master Balentis?”

“You aren’t helping.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Call me Jon. I was one of your suitors.”

“Oh.” Sal coughed. “I. Uh. There were a lot of you?”

Jon groaned again and shook his head. “You’re ridiculous. How did you get to be so bloody successful?”

“I have a natural charm,” Sal said, leaning back against the wall. It was farther than she’d expected, and she fell awkwardly. Flushing, Sal sat up and scooted back. 

Jon at least had the grace to look away. When he looked back, he seemed far more composed. Far more like a proper jailer. “How are you feeling, Silvia?”

“It’s Sal.”

Jon raised an eyebrow. “How are you feeling, Silvia?” He repeated.

Sal’s gaze darkened. She made as if to cross her arms, then stopped as she felt the shackles. “I’ll trade you for the answer.”

Jon blinked. “If you’re injured, not telling us will only hurt you.”

“It’ll hurt you too,” Sal said confidently. 

“No…?”

“You have a plan for me,” Sal said. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

“We’re taking you back to the mainland to hang—”

“Please. You’re on this ship.”

“And?”

Sal felt the corner of her mouth twitching up. “I’ll explain it as a trade.”

Jon groaned. “What do you even want me to trade you?”

Sal shrugged. “You could take off these stupid manacles. I’m in a cell on a ship in the middle of the ocean; it isn’t like I’ll be escaping anytime soon.”

“Do you realize,” Jon said tiredly, “that I should deny you anything you ask for simply because you want it?”

Sal groaned softly. “Fine. Let’s back up, then. I’m still not the captain.”

“You—”

“I’m not the captain,” Sal said loudly, “because we don’t have one. He died nearly three years ago.”

“When you mutineed against him, yes.”

Sal winced. “You really aren’t making this any easier.” He shouldn’t be so well informed, even if he did know me. What do they want?

“Good.”

They fell into an uneasy silence. Sal studied the brig, trying to get a feel for where she was. She and Jon were the only people in sight. A ladder disappeared into the ceiling, and several barrels and coils of rope were placed neatly out of the way. The ship smelled…wrong. It took Sal an embarrassingly long time to figure out why. It smelled clean. Woody, almost like pine. This ship was likely on its maiden voyage. And it had spent that entire voyage chasing her crew.

Who, then, would build a ship specifically to catch pirates? Specifically to catch her?

“Listen,” Sal said, and Jon’s gaze snapped back to her. “I got things to do. Places to be. So why don’t you fetch your little Captain and he and I will work things out.”

Jon smiled widely. “I’m the Captain here, Silvia.”

Sal gaped, stumbling for words. “You’re that rich?”

Jon scowled. “Not all positions have to be bought!”

“But yours was,” Sal said, leaving no room for argument. “Forgotten gods, why me? What did I do to you?”

Jon didn’t answer, just watched her for a long moment. “What did you do, on the ship? Before the mutiny?”

“I’ll trade you for the answer,” Sal said without missing a beat. 

“I was asking as a courtesy,” Jon said. “Lady Silvia Vilcas, how would you like to be my helmswoman?”

Sal shook her head slowly. She hadn’t the slightest idea what game he was playing. “Full of surprises, aren’t you? I’ll consider it. What do I get?”

Jon looked thrown off. He blinked. “You don’t get hung? Have you missed this entire conversation?”

Sal shrugged. “I’m a pirate, Jon. This isn’t the first time I’ve faced the gallows. If you want my help, you’ll have to pay.”

Jon’s gaze tightened. “What do you want?”

“I’ll trade—” Sal cut off as he stood up.

“We’ll speak later.” He said curtly. 

Sal snorted as his exit was ruined by the ladder. 

***

Sal looked up from the wheel to see one of the idiots struggling to tie a knot. She stamped over to him and snatched the rope, tying it for him.

He took it back, looking caught between terror and embarrassment. “Thanks, Silv—”

“It’s Sal,” Sal growled.

“Captain said to call you—”

“Your Captain is almost as incompetent as you are,” Sal said. “My name is Sal.”

“I’m not going to disobey him,” the boy said stubbornly.

“Sod you,” Sal spat, stalking back to the helm. She shook her head disgustedly, the shells and bones in her hair clacking pleasantly. It was too pleasant a sound for such a vessel. There, though, was one far more fitting. Boots on wood. “Jon,” Sal said, turning to glower at him. “Your pathetic attempt at a crew is going to get us killed.”

“Missing your pirates?”

“Please,” Sal snorted. “That bunch of traitors? I hate them.”

Jon shook his head, smiling faintly. “Your eyes say you love them.”

“Stop watching my eyes like a swooning whale,” Sal said without missing a beat. “I hate them, all right. I just love hating them.”

Jon blinked. “That’s surprisingly profound.”

“I’ll talk more about it in trade.”

“I might take that deal, actually.”

Sal grinned. Well then. Maybe he’s got his head on straight after all. “Double rations for a week.”

“A day.”

“Five days.”

“Three.” Sal raised an eyebrow. “Fine,” Jon grumbled. “Four days of double rations if you expand on that statement.”

Sal smiled faintly, looking out over the waves. “It’s part of the life,” she said. “It fits. When we’re on the Leaf, any one of them would give their life for me in a second. You catch us, and they send me to the rope without a second thought.”

“Dishonorable pirates,” Jon said.

“No, we’re not.”

“Fine,” Jon conceded. “Keep going.”

“Nah,” Sal decided. “I expanded. That’s the deal.”

“What?!”

“Next time,” Sal said haughtily, “choose your wording more carefully.” She turned away, hoping he’d leave. He didn’t.

“I’ll tell you how we beat you,” he blurted. “If you explain what being a pirate is to you until I explicitly tell you that I’m satisfied.”

Sal gritted her teeth. “Look at you,” she mumbled, “learning so quickly. I’ll do it, on two conditions”

Jon cocked his head “Oh?”

“First, you follow the same terms. Explain until I explicitly tell you that I’m satisfied. Second, you and your bloody crew will call me Sal. And you go first.”

“That was three.”

“I never was good at numbers,” Sal said cheerfully. “Deal?”

“Deal.” 

 

[BlueWildRye he/him]

1 hour ago, Edema Rue said:

Ok, it’s not done yet but here’s part 1 of a pirate story I’m writing for some reason that definitely isn’t because I love Will Turner

  Reveal hidden contents

Even the sea was holding its breath that morning. Some might say it was ideal weather for a jaunt on a ship. Those would be nobles and fools; true sailors could feel the apprehension in the air. There was a chill that went straight to one’s bones, and the sun seemed almost afraid to shine. A faint mist had spread as the sun rose. 

Sal grinned. It was a good morning, then. 

“Captain,” a voice called from above her. Shielding her eyes, Sal glanced to the crow’s nest. 

“Ay, El?”

“We’ve lost sight on her,” the young sailor said. “She could be anywhere.”

Sal’s grin deepened. “She’ll be to the East. Don’t bother looking, you’ll only blind yourself in the sun. That’s what they want.”

“Ay, Captain.” El hesitated. “Today’s the day, then.”

“Ay, El. It’s a fine day for it, too.”

“Will we win?”

“That’s the best part,” Sal said, throwing up a knife so that it stuck in the mast above his head. “We won’t know until three days after the fight.” She stalked belowdecks with a wink, leaving El shaking their head in confusion. It was a very good day. They’d first caught sight of the royal ship over two weeks ago. That had started the chase. Lower rations, more frequent shift changes, no lanterns after the sun had dipped below the horizon. All of last night, Sal had watched the ship gain on them. She knew when a fight was coming, and today she could feel it. It would be a good one.

“Cap’n,” Wood greeted her. Sal nodded to him. Wood wasn’t his real name, of course, but no one could remember calling him anything else. Finn had once joked that he was “more tree than person.” Wood had nearly taken the boy’s head off.

“It’s coming, isn’t it?” Alina asked from his side. “You only smile like that when you know you’ll get to shoot someone later.”

“It’s today,” Sal confirmed. “Get moving, and be ready for a fight.”

“Aye,” Alina said, a dangerous smirk curling across her scarred face. She and Wood moved for the main deck.

Sal continued belowdecks, smiling widely. When she saw limp forms in hammocks, she nearly laughed. Then she whistled once, loud and long and shrill. Everything moved at once as sailors scrambled out of hammocks, into boots.

“Out!” She called. “Move, move! It’s a fighting day, lads and ladies. Get on deck, you bunch of lazy slugs!” In less than two minutes they were gone. 

In the distance, Sal heard a cannon. She waited a moment longer. Any second now…there. She breathed in deeply, feeling her heart pound, feeling the adrenaline rushing through her veins. This was what she lived for. This moment. She had no idea if she’d survive the day. By the Forgotten Gods, she had no idea if she’d survive the next hour, the next minute, the next second. Sal sprinted for the ladder, feeling the familiar rungs under her hands. The Fallen Leaf wasn’t a kind ship, but it got the job done. Welcome home, she thought wryly. Welcome home.

On deck, Sal whistled orders. Her crew carried them out almost before they left her lips. Short-short: hard to starboard. Long-short-long: lower the sails. Long-long: load cannons, but don’t fire. Dozens of signals, commands she didn’t even need to speak. The crew knew the whistles. They were high and loud, carrying over the sound of shouting, of wind, of waves. Even of cannons, if they were far enough away. Her crew heard and obeyed, and this way everyone knew what everyone else was doing. 

Her boots clicked on the deck as she paced. The ship that chased them was sleek. Clearly one of the navy’s new frigates. They took a smaller crew, and few supplies, but they could sail like none other. Sal cursed. Fire.

Shots rang out, and Sal watched the cannonballs arc across the water. All but one splashed harmlessly into the waves. Hard to port! Harder to port! The Fallen Leaf narrowly avoided a barrage of cannon fire. Sal watched the fight for a long moment. Her people were good, but the Leaf was old and slow. Their shots flew wild, and they couldn’t evade.

So, making eye contact with her helmsman, Sal let out three long whistles. Get in close. Every sound seemed distant as Jes spun the wheel sharply. She thought she heard Alina laughing. She blew a single short whistle, but it was barely needed. Sal brushed a braid out of her face and grinned, ready to board. 

In only moments, the battle was raging on both ships. Sal’s crew swung across on ropes; the soldiers set down planks. El shot from the crow’s nest, and steel rang on steel as the enemy grew too close for guns.

Someone ran at Sal, waving a sword. He looked younger than Finn. “Die, filthy pirate!” He screamed. Well. That was rude.

Sal stabbed him, tossing his body over the side. She’d have to cross and find the captain. This sort wouldn’t fight after he was down, and Sal knew without a doubt that a prolonged fight would only end in disaster. She whistled several notes in quick succession. All her orders were the same high pitch, but each of her crew had a “name” she could call as needed. The ones she’d called had heard, and they’d back her up.

Some, Sal reasoned, might call it dishonorable to fight this way. They’d want us to fight one on one, or such nonsense. 

It’s too bad. Cheating is what makes the game so fun.

Then she felt a sudden, sharp pain in her neck. The world seemed to blur, and Sal reached up a hand to feel something feathery.

Stars.

***

When Sal woke up, she could feel splintery wood digging into the side of her cheek. There was cool metal around her wrists and ankles. She sat up with a grunt, hearing chains jingle loudly. She winced. Her head pounded worse than if she’d been at the rum all night.

“Good morning, Captain.” Sal’s eyes snapped to the figure just outside her cell.

“I’m no Captain,” she said reflexively.

The figure—a young man, she could see as her vision cleared—laughed. “Not anymore, you aren’t.”

“I never was,” Sal droned patronizingly. “Look for Alina. Big hat. She’s the one you’ll want.”

“Cut the games, Captain,” the man said sharply. “We’ve beaten you. As soon as we’re back on land, you’ll find a noose around your neck.”

“I told you,” Sal said, trying to look desperate, “I’m not the Captain. Just a lowly sailor. Please, I never wanted—”

“Cut. The. Games.” The man’s eyes darkened. “We offered your crew a full pardon if they’d give up their Captain. Your name was brought up without fail.”

Sal cursed. “Of course it was,” she groused fondly. “Bloody rats. They’re framing me.”

“No, they aren’t.” The young man met her gaze flatly. “I know who you are, Silvia Vilcas.”

Sal stiffened. “Who are you?” The joking was gone from her tone. 

The man grinned. “My name is Jonathan Balentis.”

Sal blinked.

He groaned. “Seriously?”

Sal shrugged helplessly. “I meet a lot of people…”

“Jon? Jonny? Master Balentis?”

“You aren’t helping.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Call me Jon. I was one of your suitors.”

“Oh.” Sal coughed. “I. Uh. There were a lot of you?”

Jon groaned again and shook his head. “You’re ridiculous. How did you get to be so bloody successful?”

“I have a natural charm,” Sal said, leaning back against the wall. It was farther than she’d expected, and she fell awkwardly. Flushing, Sal sat up and scooted back. 

Jon at least had the grace to look away. When he looked back, he seemed far more composed. Far more like a proper jailer. “How are you feeling, Silvia?”

“It’s Sal.”

Jon raised an eyebrow. “How are you feeling, Silvia?” He repeated.

Sal’s gaze darkened. She made as if to cross her arms, then stopped as she felt the shackles. “I’ll trade you for the answer.”

Jon blinked. “If you’re injured, not telling us will only hurt you.”

“It’ll hurt you too,” Sal said confidently. 

“No…?”

“You have a plan for me,” Sal said. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

“We’re taking you back to the mainland to hang—”

“Please. You’re on this ship.”

“And?”

Sal felt the corner of her mouth twitching up. “I’ll explain it as a trade.”

Jon groaned. “What do you even want me to trade you?”

Sal shrugged. “You could take off these stupid manacles. I’m in a cell on a ship in the middle of the ocean; it isn’t like I’ll be escaping anytime soon.”

“Do you realize,” Jon said tiredly, “that I should deny you anything you ask for simply because you want it?”

Sal groaned softly. “Fine. Let’s back up, then. I’m still not the captain.”

“You—”

“I’m not the captain,” Sal said loudly, “because we don’t have one. He died nearly three years ago.”

“When you mutineed against him, yes.”

Sal winced. “You really aren’t making this any easier.” He shouldn’t be so well informed, even if he did know me. What do they want?

“Good.”

They fell into an uneasy silence. Sal studied the brig, trying to get a feel for where she was. She and Jon were the only people in sight. A ladder disappeared into the ceiling, and several barrels and coils of rope were placed neatly out of the way. The ship smelled…wrong. It took Sal an embarrassingly long time to figure out why. It smelled clean. Woody, almost like pine. This ship was likely on its maiden voyage. And it had spent that entire voyage chasing her crew.

Who, then, would build a ship specifically to catch pirates? Specifically to catch her?

“Listen,” Sal said, and Jon’s gaze snapped back to her. “I got things to do. Places to be. So why don’t you fetch your little Captain and he and I will work things out.”

Jon smiled widely. “I’m the Captain here, Silvia.”

Sal gaped, stumbling for words. “You’re that rich?”

Jon scowled. “Not all positions have to be bought!”

“But yours was,” Sal said, leaving no room for argument. “Forgotten gods, why me? What did I do to you?”

Jon didn’t answer, just watched her for a long moment. “What did you do, on the ship? Before the mutiny?”

“I’ll trade you for the answer,” Sal said without missing a beat. 

“I was asking as a courtesy,” Jon said. “Lady Silvia Vilcas, how would you like to be my helmswoman?”

Sal shook her head slowly. She hadn’t the slightest idea what game he was playing. “Full of surprises, aren’t you? I’ll consider it. What do I get?”

Jon looked thrown off. He blinked. “You don’t get hung? Have you missed this entire conversation?”

Sal shrugged. “I’m a pirate, Jon. This isn’t the first time I’ve faced the gallows. If you want my help, you’ll have to pay.”

Jon’s gaze tightened. “What do you want?”

“I’ll trade—” Sal cut off as he stood up.

“We’ll speak later.” He said curtly. 

Sal snorted as his exit was ruined by the ladder. 

***

Sal looked up from the wheel to see one of the idiots struggling to tie a knot. She stamped over to him and snatched the rope, tying it for him.

He took it back, looking caught between terror and embarrassment. “Thanks, Silv—”

“It’s Sal,” Sal growled.

“Captain said to call you—”

“Your Captain is almost as incompetent as you are,” Sal said. “My name is Sal.”

“I’m not going to disobey him,” the boy said stubbornly.

“Sod you,” Sal spat, stalking back to the helm. She shook her head disgustedly, the shells and bones in her hair clacking pleasantly. It was too pleasant a sound for such a vessel. There, though, was one far more fitting. Boots on wood. “Jon,” Sal said, turning to glower at him. “Your pathetic attempt at a crew is going to get us killed.”

“Missing your pirates?”

“Please,” Sal snorted. “That bunch of traitors? I hate them.”

Jon shook his head, smiling faintly. “Your eyes say you love them.”

“Stop watching my eyes like a swooning whale,” Sal said without missing a beat. “I hate them, all right. I just love hating them.”

Jon blinked. “That’s surprisingly profound.”

“I’ll talk more about it in trade.”

“I might take that deal, actually.”

Sal grinned. Well then. Maybe he’s got his head on straight after all. “Double rations for a week.”

“A day.”

“Five days.”

“Three.” Sal raised an eyebrow. “Fine,” Jon grumbled. “Four days of double rations if you expand on that statement.”

Sal smiled faintly, looking out over the waves. “It’s part of the life,” she said. “It fits. When we’re on the Leaf, any one of them would give their life for me in a second. You catch us, and they send me to the rope without a second thought.”

“Dishonorable pirates,” Jon said.

“No, we’re not.”

“Fine,” Jon conceded. “Keep going.”

“Nah,” Sal decided. “I expanded. That’s the deal.”

“What?!”

“Next time,” Sal said haughtily, “choose your wording more carefully.” She turned away, hoping he’d leave. He didn’t.

“I’ll tell you how we beat you,” he blurted. “If you explain what being a pirate is to you until I explicitly tell you that I’m satisfied.”

Sal gritted her teeth. “Look at you,” she mumbled, “learning so quickly. I’ll do it, on two conditions”

Jon cocked his head “Oh?”

“First, you follow the same terms. Explain until I explicitly tell you that I’m satisfied. Second, you and your bloody crew will call me Sal. And you go first.”

“That was three.”

“I never was good at numbers,” Sal said cheerfully. “Deal?”

“Deal.” 

 

Pirates are my favorite! I myself am currently listening to a book documenting the history of the Republic of Pirates.

[Edema Rue she/her]

16 minutes ago, BlueWildRye said:

Pirates are my favorite! I myself am currently listening to a book documenting the history of the Republic of Pirates.

*gasps* what’s it called?

[BlueWildRye he/him]

1 hour ago, Edema Rue said:

*gasps* what’s it called?

Very creatively, The Republic of Pirates by Colin Woodard. But it really is creative because the book actually coined the term for the pirate confederacy in the first place.

Edited July 12 by BlueWildRye