Silly Octavia, Vinyl's not a vampire, right?

It was here, in my room. Somewhere, skittering along on its eight spindly legs.

I think there's something wrong with Octavia.

Ask no answers and be told no lies. "Who are you really, Lyra?" She wouldn't answer.

Girls. Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em.

A story written under the influence of pain medication - literally a crackfic.

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