#also after she says this. chilled is like. i want this put on her tombstone

[courtillyy]

"I'm autistic, I'm incapable of being fucking basic" icon shit fr <33

[redrobin-detective]

give lilies with full hands

“Ghosts at the cemetery, why am I not surprised?” Valerie grumbled under her breath as she glanced at the glowing dots congregating near Heavenly Gates, Amity’s largest cemetery. It was just after 5pm on a Friday; Valerie should be at home getting ready for a fun and relaxing weekend. Instead, she was speeding forward in the dreary pre-rain mist about to tackle a hoard of the undead. Her life was so strange and unfair sometimes it just fueled her hatred for everything ghostly.

As she approached the cemetery, she slowed down and had her ectoweapon up and ready to shoot. Instead of a fire fight, she found an eerie, unsettling quiet that sunk deep into her bones and made her unable to move. She just hovered above the cemetery and took in the full scope of the scene. The Fentons were here, hard as they were to miss but like Valerie, they were also frozen with unease. Mrs. Fenton kept fiddling with her weapons but couldn’t manage to lift it in a meaningful way. 

The fog hung heavily around the cemetery, clinging like wet paint dripping down an unfinished picture. She could make out the unnatural glow of several ghosts, a few of which she recognized. That annoying child pirate ghost none of the adults could ever see was sobbing silently, curled up in a fetal position on the ground as if he were trying to make himself as small as possible. The biker guy and girl were cuddled into each other, leaned up against a grave looked scared and worn, flickering dangerously like static on TV. Val spotted Ember looking frightened and quaking looking like she wanted to run but was unable to. Her soft glow alerted Val that there was another ghost she’d initially missed.

The ghost was more shadow than anything, the fog moving through and from them. They were a swirl of greys and blacks in the approximation of a long cloak covering their face entirely. Pinpricks of bright lights shone from underneath the cloak’s hood. They bore down on Ember as if it were seeing deep into her soul and found her lacking. 

Phantom was there too, he looked almost normal compared to everything else going on so it’s not surprising she’d missed him at first. The fog dampened some of his ghostly glow and he was standing properly instead of floating. Like Val and the Fentons, he seemed unable to move. The heavy drizzle in the air flattened his normally gravity defying hair. If she hadn’t known better, she’d say he was a normal person standing there, albeit one with weird fashion sense who went a little crazy with the bleach. And if Phantom looked human in comparison then just what was this new ghost?

“Amber Jablonski,” The ghost whispered quietly within the cemetery but Valerie could hear perfectly well, as if were being spoken into her ear. From the shivers she saw come from the Fentons, they were experiencing the same thing. Ember moaned, something deep and agonizing. She fell to her knees as more of her glow faded. “An eager musician just making a name for herself in her small town. A performance at a barn had faulty wiring. The building caught fire and Young Amber was trapped by debris and unable to escape.”

The flame in Ember’s hair burst into brilliant blue flames before painfully sputtering out like a candle on the verge of going out. A wisp like ghostly hand reached out and tenderly ran a finger down the side of Ember’s face like a mockery of the tears she could no longer shed. “Cause of death was severe burns across her whole body and smoke suffocation at the age of 22.”

“Enough,” Phantom announced suddenly, stepping forward through the ghostly arm putting himself squarely between Ember and the wisp ghost. The dead rockstar barely noticed, her whole form trembling as she looked down at the cold earth with absolute horror. Val wondered if she was feeling the cold of the cemetery or the burning heat of an out of control fire. “You’re killing her.”

“She is already dead,” the ghost answered, “as are they all. They are but echoes of lives come and gone.”

“That doesn’t mean you have the right to remind them,” Phantom said, looking more ghostly again. His aura flared suddenly and his eyes lit up like angry lightning bugs in a jar. “Death is sacred, it’s private and you’re using it to hurt them.”

“It is my duty, I am the Mortem Obire. I make the restless dead confront their own mortality, remind them of what they lost.” The ghost stared down Phantom who flinched but overwise stood his ground. “It is because of you, Danny Phantom, that I have been summoned to this realm. Your life essence has made these ghosts forget what they were. They flock to you, drawn to your vibrancy, seeking what they’d lost. The dead were straying from their existence, emboldened by your example, they were forging new purposes. I am merely correcting their assumptions to preserve the delicate balance that maintains the two worlds.”

“But death shouldn’t have to define them, I mean us,” Phantom pleaded. “They can grow if they want, experience new things. The end of life isn’t the end.”

“How very human of you,” the other ghost said breathily, an unnatural imitation of a chuckle. “Your death, if we can call it that,” the ghost said, “was born out of innocence and ignorance. Nature demanded the experiment fail but your naivety allowed for the flow of life and death to be disrupted. You looked at a machine you could neither understand or control and made the attempt anyway. Your hubris consumed you in the form of electricity, pain firing through your whole body as you screamed for a relief that never came. Your old body was obliterated and remade into the abomination you are now.”

Oh god, Phantom was electrocuted. He had lived his last moments as a human screaming and in pain. She knew he was vaguely around her age but it was one thing to know a kid her age had gone through that and another to hear it described. Without thinking, she lowered her weapons. 

“Yeah I know that,” Phantom said weakly. “I took out the power in the whole city for a few hours which I felt bad about afterwards. What’s your point?” His glow was completely gone, the wet humidity of the air clinging to him much like how it fogged up Valerie’s suit. The shadow of the sinking sun made his white hair look dark and the greens of his eyes had faded into a less unnatural blue/green. 

The only think remotely otherworldly about him was a faint pulsing glow coming from the center of his chest. It beat like a heart, a soft brightness that seemed to dispel the overwhelming feeling of death. Ember looked up from the ground, the pirate kid uncurled himself a little, biker guy and his girlfriend became a little more solid. They looked at Phantom with such awe and envy and grief it was almost painful to watch them stare at what they clearly lacked. 

“My words hold no domain over your heart now, child of two worlds,” the ghost wheezed, floating past Phantom. “But someday you will greet death properly, be made humble by it, and I will be there to remind you of how fickle and fleeting that precious life of yours is.” 

“I-” Phantom defended, glowing slightly with his eyes once more an ectoplasmic green. But now it was obvious to see how much more lively and present he was compared to the others. She still hates him, will probably still hunt him but while she knew Phantom was a ghost she knew, whatever he was, she couldn’t call him dead. Not with eyes so sympathetic and expressive and alive.   

“Be gone, all of you mortals, this is a place for the dead,” the ghost commanded. The ghost hovered over to the Box Ghost who had been shivering behind a tombstone the whole time and suddenly went still as stone. “Your compassion for them does them no favors. This is the price for their existence, the dead cannot and should not forget. That is their purpose and this is mine. This is not an end to their existence, merely a reminder.”

Valerie never thoughts she’d see the Fentons flee from a fight but still she watched as Jack and Maddie slowly backed up until they reached their garish assault vehicle. They fumbled for the handles, not willing to tear their eyes off the ghosts before climbing in and driving off. Phantom looked torn, grief stricken as he watched the mist ghost, the Mortem Obire, speak softly to the Box Ghost. He looked like he wanted to interfere, to place himself in-between again but his shoulders slumped as he realized the futility of the action. This was the nature of death and memory and the living were not to interfere.

He glanced up at her, wary and saddened before disappearing from view, going off to wherever it was he lived his life when he wasn’t causing her problems. Valerie swiftly turned her board around and sped quickly in the direction of home. This had left her a lot of things to think about, about Phantom, about ghosts, about what it meant to stick around once your number was up. 

But that was for later, for now she wanted to get out of chill before the rain started in earnest. She wanted to drink something warm, sit close with her father and feel their hearts beating in time. Valerie Grey wanted nothing more, in that moment, to simply breathe in and appreciate her life before it was taken and those happy memories used against her. She would not die full of regret for what she had missed.

[bisexuallsokka]

i said sad ending intially but if it means we get to read both im changing my answer to happy ending

alright, good choice! i went with a happier ending, here’s the link to the fic

as for the alternative sad ending, i’m going to put it under the cut. it’s a 5+1 fic and the +1 was the sad one, so i’ll paste that here. i would recommend reading the whole fic first and then if you want to see what i had initially planned for the ending, it is unedited but here it is

(cw for major character death)

+1

“Are you sure you don’t want me to write it down for you?” Zuko asks his husband for the second time, an eyebrow raised.

“I got it! Don’t worry. Soba noodles, rice vinegar, toothpaste, cat treats. Easy peasy,” Sokka beams, grabbing his keys and shrugging on a jacket. “I’ll grab some Twizzlers for movie night, too.”

Zuko rolls his eyes. He will never admit it, but he has grown to love Twizzlers thanks to Sokka. It may have something to do with the large amount of Twizzler flavored kisses over the years. “Alright. I’ll be expecting your phone call soon.”

“Do you have that little faith in me?” Sokka gasps dramatically.

“Not in you, just in your track record,” Zuko tells him. "Four years of marriage will do that."

Sokka laughs and takes a step toward him, watching Zuko pull out ingredients from the fridge until Zuko notices and gives him a questioning look.

“Hey,” Sokka says, kissing Zuko on the cheek. “I love you, you know.”

“I love you too, you giant dork," Zuko responds, heart fluttering in his chest even as he pushes Sokka toward the door. "Now scram, I'm hungry!"

Sokka laughs. “I’ll be right back! I promise!”

Twenty minutes later, Zuko smiles when he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. He can just imagine Sokka staring at the store shelves, waiting for Zuko to pick up so he can ask, “Was it white vinegar that you wanted? Also, do you have a preference for the brand of noodles I get? What else did we need? I know I said I didn’t need to write it down but I should have written it down-”

Zuko puts down the salt he just added to the sautéing vegetables and grabs the phone, not even bothering to look at the caller ID as he answers. “Yes?” he asks, smiling widely.

“Zuko, where are you?”  

He blinks. It’s Katara. The tone of her voice sends a chill through his body, and with shaking hands he is already reaching for his keys.

“Katara? Are you o-”

“Zuko, it’s Sokka. You need to come to the emergency room, now.”

Zuko barely has the mindset to turn the stove off before he’s stumbling out the door, keys in hand, knuckles white where he is still clutching his phone as Katara talks to him.

And for the first time in his life, Sokka breaks his promise.

…

The emergency room is deadly silent. Or maybe it is loud. Zuko can’t seem to process anything other than his racing thoughts, the roaring in his ears. As soon as he runs in, a nurse rushes up to meet him, making eye contact with him and then leading the way down the hallway to where Katara and a few other doctors are standing with their heads bowed. One of them has her arm around Katara, which doesn’t make sense because shouldn’t they all be helping Sokka, instead of standing around, and which room was Sokka’s, and-

Katara turned her head at the sound of his footsteps and met Zuko’s eyes with her own wide ones. He has a moment to notice the fresh tears cascading down her cheeks before she rushes to him and wraps her arms around his torso. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, and Zuko shakes his head, barely registering that the other doctors are walking away, giving them privacy. 

“What are you talking about? Where’s Sokka?” he asks, and he feels numb but his voice comes out shaky and frightened. 

“Zuko,” she pulls back to look him in the eyes. “He didn’t make it. We did everything we could, and he crashed just a few minutes after the ambulance brought him in.”

“But,” Zuko starts, because that can’t be true, Sokka can’t be...gone, he’s going to walk out of one of the rooms any moment now, smiling that crooked smile of his, and he is going to be okay, and he needs Katara to know that, that Sokka wouldn’t just leave him like this. “No, he…” His thoughts are racing, but he can’t seem to convey any of them into words. “No, Katara, he...he promised me that he would be right back. He never breaks his promises. He promised me.”

“This is one promise he can’t keep,” she says quietly.

Zuko feels her shuddering breaths as she sobs into his chest, and his arms are tight around her like it’s the only thing keeping him standing upright, which is probably true, and he has the feeling that he is keeping her from collapsing too. He rubs circles onto her back as she mourns. As long as he has known Sokka, he has known Katara, the two of them a package deal. But now, it is just Katara, grieving over the loss of the brother she has always had by her side. 

They stand there for a long time, Zuko comforting the sister of the love of his life, Katara comforting the husband of her big brother, both numb and overwhelmed with emotion at the same time. 

…

Katara is at his side and holding his hand, her head on Zuko’s shoulder. Neither of them like coming here alone, so when Toph tells Zuko she has work or Aang offers to stay with the kids, they make the drive together.

Sometimes they stand there for a long time, not saying a word until they are back in the car. Other times they’ll sit on the grass in front of Sokka’s grave and talk about their favorite memories of him, laughing even as they wipe away the tears of sorrow. Today she offers him a bag of Twizzlers and he takes one out and chews it slowly as he stares at the words loving husband carved out of stone.

It makes him think of Sokka’s voicemail, the one he keeps calling just to hear his voice again. “You’ve reached Sokka, that’s with an -okka, if this is important please leave a message, and if this is my loving husband, just know that I in fact do love you more, Zuko.” 

The sky is getting darker, and Katara starts to walk toward the car, her fingers letting go of Zuko’s hand as he stays unmoving. She glances over her shoulder, and he gives her a nod before she turns back around and walks to the car alone.

He kneels in front of the tombstone, his head full of so many things he needs to say, but nothing comes out. He takes a shuddering breath in and places a palm on the grass, looking up at the sky where he can see the moon rising on the horizon. He smiles at it.

“I’ll never stop loving you, Sokka. Ever. I promise.”

(Zuko keeps his promise.)

[allisonbaelfire]

The One that was once Mine

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean was now on his own again and got lost while driving at night, where he met another hunter. Y/N Kyle. She was a famous vampire hunter, but more of a myth as no one had ever seen or really knew her. Who was she and could he trust her?

Chapter Summary: Dean and Sam had an argument, which is why Sam decided to be alone for a while. Dean got lost because Sammy was actually the one who always said where to go. When he wanted to look at the map, he noticed a woman covered in blood.

Words: 1,810

Authors Note: Summerbreak is over Ladies and Gentleman, I’m back.

This is an Supernatural AU! This story isn’t based on special season, but it still happens in the beginning before the angels came.

____________________________________

Now:

“You’ve a place in my heart no one else ever could’ve.”

Dean looked at the tombstone and placed a red rose under the picture, the woman who still occupied his heart even after her death. Dean tried to suppress his tears when he saw the picture on the stone. He took a deep breath and turned around, he couldn’t look at the tombstone without his heart bleeding inside.

_______

Then:

Dean and Sam had an argument that broke the barrel for Sam. When he saw a bus stop, he brought Dean and his Impala to stop and got out of the car with his things.

“Oh Sammy, come on.” Dean lifted his arms up as his younger brother was about to leave. “Where do you want to go? Just take a god damn Bus and take off?”

Sam stopped and took a deep breath. "Anywhere." He turned and looked at Dean. Sam was tired. "I need some time out, I have to think."

Dean didn't know what to do, on one side he understood his brother, Sam emphasized often how tired he was of hunting and he was still so young. Dean has always wished that he could live a different life but on the other side, their father had disappeared, there was no time for a break. It made Dean angry to see how selfish Sam was.

Dean shook his head. “Just go.” 

Sam let his head down a bit. There was no point in arguing with his big brother, it never was. Before Sam could even raise his arm to say goodbye, Dean said "I'll find you when I need you", then he turned around and drove off with the Impala. Dean looked in the rearview mirror and saw Sam getting into the bus.

_______

He was very worried about Sam. He was afraid of losing his brother too, now were his father was nowhere to be found. But he was also angry, angry that Sam just left him by himself. 

Dean tried to distract himself and turned on his favorite AC/DC CD, The Razors Edge. He wanted to sing along, but he couldn't get out more than a mumble. He was thinking too much.

Dean wasn’t used to drive alone anymore, usually Sam told him where the next stop was and through his thoughts he wasn't really paying attention to where he was going. He was lost. Dean stopped at the side of the road, got out of the car, and went to the trunk. 

 He looked for the map but couldn't find it. "God damn it!" he slammed the trunk shut.

“You freakin’ vampires, I’ll kill all of you!” 

A woman's voice that sounded so tender despite being angry caught Dean's attention. It took him a moment. "Vampires"? 

The voice wasn't far away. Dean went back to his trunk, got his knife and two pistols and decided to look for the woman.

But she was faster. What initially looked like a speeding shadow, quickly turned into a woman covered in blood, with a long knife in her left hand, that Dean had never seen before.

“In the car, hurry!” She shouted.

Dean couldn't move, the situation was confusing him. She walked past him and got behind the wheel of his car. 

“In the car now, or I’ll drive off.”

Dean jumped over his cowling to get into the passenger seat. As soon as he saw it in his own car, the unknown woman drove off with screeching tires.

_______

“What the hell, Lady?”

Dean finally found words again. It almost hurt him seeing how the unknown woman next to him drove his baby, and how she smeared his steering wheel with blood. Also, it was very strange for him to sit in the passenger seat.

She didn't say a word, which confused Dean and also angered him. Still, he looked at her to see if it was her blood or someone else's.

“Are you okay?” He asked in a softer tone.

She nodded. “I didn’t mean to scare you, or steal your car for that matter.”

She had a soft and warm voice, but Dean noticed that she was still very stressed.

“You know where you’re going?” 

She grinned slightly, she tried so hard to get them both as far away as possible, that she hadn't given it any thought where to go next. 

She shook her head. “Nope, do you’ve a map?” She looked at him.

It was the first time that he could really see her, even when it was dark, there was something beautiful about her silhouette.

Dean looked at her a bit too long to really see something, "so?" she asked. Dean was glad that it was dark, he felt that it was dark, he grinned because he felt caught out.

“Usually, I’m the driver and my brother shows me the way, so I have no idea where he put the map.” He replied.

“Maybe its right in front of you.” She spoke.

It took Dean a minute, the he opened the compartment in the dashboard. “Damn it, Sammy.”

She chuckled a little. “So where’s the next motel?”

“30 km straight ahead and then left.” 

_______

By the time they got to the motel it was past midnight.

“I don’t know if we’ll get a room here.” Dean said as he looked around. “Looks tiny and dark.”

“You can have my blanket, if you need to hide under it.”  She replied while looking around to find out where to check in.

“I’m not afraid.” 

“Yup.” Then she glided past him.

_______

“Hey, we need two rooms.”

“Separated rooms.”  Dean insisted on making that clear while faking a smile.

The woman standing in front of the two was paralyzed when she saw them both in front of her. She wondered why they needed a room so late and why she was covered in blood. But she also thought it would be better not to ask questions, she ran a motel, and strange characters appeared often.

“We- we only have one more room le-left.” She replied while trying not to stare at them.

“Fine.” Dean rolled his eyes, while the Motel Dame gave him the keys.”We’ll leave tomorrow, don’t worry.”He smiled.

_______

Dean opened the door to the motel room and the unknown woman, of whom he still didn't know the name, strolled in first.

“One bed, I probably should shower first.” She joked as she looked around. “You can have-”

Dean closed the door behind him. He pulled out his colt and the second he tried to unlock it, she turned around in a flash and pointed a knife at his neck.

“Ah-ah, I wouldn’t do such stupid things if I were you.” She spoke soft as his green eyes starred at her’s trying to figure out what was going on. “You’re Dean Winchester, I should’ve known by the Impala but I was to distracted-” She locked her eyes with his and noticed tiny specks of yellow, “to safe your ass.”

He tried not to swallow while the knife was so close to his throat. “I think my Baby and I saved you. Who the hell are you?”  Dean managed to hold his knife to her ribs unnoticed.” He looked mischievously at his knife, he wanted her to notice. 

Dean’s effort amused her, “My name is Y/N, Y/N Kyle.” She took a few steps away from Dean.

“The Vampire hunter.” He remembered.

Sam had told Dean that he heard of a rumor, a rumor that made the rounds around hunters for a long time, a woman who was digging out vampire nests all by herself and she was very successfully.

“If you don't want your famous Winchester hand to be missing a finger, I would recommend you put the knife back, slowly.” Y/N had a menacing undertone while she put her knife on the bedside table. 

Dean thought she would be reckless for a hunter to turn her back on him like that. But maybe he was the reckless one all along.

“I can’t believe this.” He mumbled and put the knife back. 

He would always help someone in need, that’s just what he does and it was the middle of the night when he heard her, but she clearly said vampires. How couldn’t he have noticed that she was a Hunter? And what's more, it could have been a trap, it could still be a trap he didn’t saw any Vampire.

“You don’t trust me.” She could tell by his body language. “Chill, if I wanted you dead, you’d be.” Y/N gave him a soft smile.

Dean lifted the corner of his mouth sarcastically. He thought about leaving Y/N here, she was safe and she was right, Dean didn't trust her. He could just get in the Impala and drive on.

“You won’t drive,”

Dean tilted his head slightly, could she now read thoughts and how could she say something like that? She didn't know him.

He crossed his arms. “-What? Why wouldn’t I?” Y/N triggered something in him but Dean didn't know what it was.

Y/N pulled off her shirt. She couldn't stand the smell of blood and sweat for a second longer. Dean turned around when he saw that she was undressing, but she still hadn't answered his question.

“Because it’s the middle of the night, you’ve nowhere else to go and besides that you’re alone and a not so un-famous hunter. Every monster will be after you when they notice you’re on your own.” Dean raised his eyebrows. “Besides that you’re curious why I ran.” She pointed out.

Y/N noticed that Dean felt uncomfortable when he ran his hands through his hair. She sometimes forgot that she could be intimidating when she analyzed people, she often did so unconsciously, especially after another mission when she was not around any other humans for a long time.

“I have nothing to wear, my car is about 80 km away. I can take a bus tomorrow but it would be nice, if you could lend me a shirt and let me take a shower now.” 

Y/N tried to sound nice, where Dean also saw that she was exhausted. “Sure, I’ll get my stuff, I’ll take the key with me but I’ll knock twice before I come in.” He wanted to make sure that Y/N could feel safe, he thought maybe she could use that.

_______

Dean went to his Impala, he sighed. He was clearly overwhelmed by today. Still worried about where Sam might be, he opened his car, got his stuff from the backseat and locked the car again. 

Y/N had a point, he wouldn’t drive away just like that. Y/N was right about the things she said but Dean thought that not only was he alone, she was too and who knows what she had to go through today.

_______

I hope you liked the first part of The One that was once Mine, please leave a small comment, it’d make my day. :)

[wthelvetica21]

Linked Souls (Updated Version) MSA X TLT Crossover AU

Mystery Skulls X The Living Tombstone Crossover Alternate Universe

————————————————————————————————                                         The Basic Synopsis ———————————————————————————————— After Shinomori retreats back underground after a standstill with Lewis and Mystery, the Mystery Skulls gang spot the possessed green arm scurrying away to an underground cave in the dessert near Tempo which was rumored to have a old mining site where there is an elevator that is thought to be a gateway to the afterlife since people have heard faint music. They find the elevator and end up in what appears to be a cabaret where they meet a group of what appears to be cyborgs or robots with stylized skulls on their faces calling themselves The Living Tombstone. Something or someone is causing both of their universes to bleed in with each other to where a few canon versions of the characters of each universe appears. It is unknown weather if it’s a cataclysmic event or something else entirely. Both Lewis and zero_one have the ability Linked Souls were they are synchronized with each other and make mashups of their songs by mixing up vocals and switching instrumentals making something new and exciting. ————————————————————————————————                         Group Dynamics (Main Characters) ———————————————————————————————— Lewis & zero_one They get along pretty well, but it later becomes a bromance. Lewis seems to sense the human presence within zero_one and gains an empathetic link with them as soon as he entered TLT’s universe. Lewis and zero_one both had visions of their transformation into what they are. Both of them want to know what it all means. Little do they know they have more in common than both of them think, at least at first. ———————————————————————————————— Arthur & Rust Rust found Arthur annoying at first but gradually gains some respect for him once he repairs is star speeder despite coming from the distant future. And Arthur reminds Rust in a lot of ways to zero_one and often cracks some jokes that Arthur is a parallel universe version to the human that zero_one is merged with. Arthur was a tad intimidated at first but likes getting into discussions about machines and general mechanics often. ———————————————————————————————— Vivi, Tesla, & Armstrong Armstrong is rather polite towards Vivi and calls her “Miss Yukino” in a formal almost mentor like manner. While Tesla tends to affectionately call her “Liebchen” (much to Lewis’ annoyance) and has gone so far as to lend is bassmenship to Mystery Skulls if an opportunity arrives. Vivi finds both of them pretty cool and nice to be around, Armstrong in particular reminds her a lot of Lance. ———————————————————————————————— Mystery & Doc They are rather chill with each other. Doc was surprised and impressed that a dog could even play the drums at all. But once he talked Doc’s only reply was “hah.. That’s not your real form isn’t it?” And Mystery finds her and the other tomesonas to be particularly interesting since they are a lot like Lewis but are made through synthetic or non-supernatural means. ———————————————————————————————— Arthur & zero_one Both of them enjoy each other’s company, almost like brothers. Both have confided with each other about their traumas. Rust has gone so far as to say albeit jokingly that Arthur is a parallel version of zero_one’s human component given their personalities and bad luck. ———————————————————————————————— Lewis & Rust They have a bitter rivalry on who’s the best vocalist ; overtime it becomes an unspoken respect for one another. ———————————————————————————————— Arthur & Armstrong Armstrong acts more like a father to Arthur and Arthur in kind looks at Armstrong like his uncle Lance. Both have shared the stories about their arms (even though Arthur only told Armstrong about losing his arm in an accident). ———————————————————————————————— Lewis & Doc Lewis finds her cool to be around and they where both born in Louisiana and have pride in their shared Cajun heritage. Doc is curious on how  Lewis’s locket can contain the deadbeats and if they are pieces of his soul. ————————————————————————————————                       Dynamics with Minor Characters ———————————————————————————————— Lewis & Skulldude* (from Drunk *: TLT Canon Version) Lewis has this oddly familiar feeling similar to that of zero_one but doesn’t have that empathic link. Also he considers him just as annoyingly neurotic as Arthur if not more so but tolerates it nonetheless. Skulldude* was at first surprised that Lewis was a ghost but seems oddly unfazed. Lewis couldn’t tell if he was just that drunk or he was telling the truth. One time after a particularly bad bender, Skulldude* figuratively and literally spilled his guts about his problems while talking to Lewis. Suffice it to say that day was painfully awkward. ———————————————————————————————— Vivi & Haru (from Sunburn) They clicked very shortly, they both geek out over yokai and cryptids. Haru reminds Vivi a lot of her co-worker Cloe. Also they are into anime and cosplay much to dismay of Mystery and every one else. ———————————————————————————————— Mystery & Hina (from Sunburn) Hina seems unfazed by Mystery’s kitsune form then most characters, she thinks it’s cool that a kitsune has a black and red coat coloring. As for Mystery, she reminds him (albeit to an uncomfortable degree) of Mushi, not so much in looks or demeanor but in her strong unflinching spirit. ————————————————————————————————      Major Differences from the Canon Universes ———————————————————————————————— Mystery Skulls ———————————————————————————————— * Before Lewis could get to the crashed van, he spots Shinomori trying to kill Mystery and Vivi ; he was pissed off enough to put aside his revenge just for a moment to nip an ugly tree lady in the bud. She reappears later still looking not only for Mystery but for Lewis and another soul in the Living Tombstone’s universe that has caught her interest. * Arthur, Vivi, & even Mystery can take on temporary ghost forms similar to Lewis but with different elemental affinities and themes to them.    * Arthur: electricity (Steampunk Frankenstein’s monster)    * Vivi: Ice (a Yukiona with Modern Winter Clothes)    * Mystery: darkness and light (a classical kitsune) * They also can summon deadbeats as well but they are not as numerous as Lewis’.  Tesla thinks it might be because there are certain limitations on what they could do while they are in TLT’s universe. It is possible that both their universes will begin to collapse if they push their ghost forms too far. *  But for whatever reason that Tesla can’t explain and is fascinated by is that Lewis and zero_one can synchronize with each other (what he coins as the Linked Souls) without any ill effects (that he knows of). * Lewis gain’s tomesona like characteristics like his human face being more visible under his floating skull and his pompadour turning into a helmet. ———————————————————————————————— The Living Tombstone ———————————————————————————————— * SkullDude (Or Drunk Guy) from the Drunk music video is the one bonded to zero_one in this crossover AU because it would be a little more convenient than pulling a random OC out of nowhere. Also I thought it be an interesting juxtaposition between the bulky, stoic but hot headed ghost Lewis and the scrawny, somewhat sanguine, but sorta neurotic zero_one!Skulldude (though he’s a tad more mellowed out then his canon counterpart and has amnesia but can somehow recognize his prime self much to his dismay). That and I think it’s a missed opportunity that he’s barely a minor character in the TLT’s canon lore of zero_one. But canon!Skulldude does some appearances every now and again. (Mostly for comic relief)    * A little tidbit for reference, apparently in the canon lore Skulldude is a separate character from the person who sings “drunk” who DOES become zero_one. So he’s a composite character in this Crossover AU. * The tomesonas have the ability to somewhat show they’re human forms. They generally have pale unnatural skin complexion and have glowing blood veins correspondent to their color. But the most gruesome parts are covered by clothing sans Armstrong. With zero_one however is unknown but it is assumed by Tesla that it was worse than the process the others went through when they bonded with their tombsonas. He can however reveal his face revealing a similar looking face mask to the canon version but it’s orange and is not a fake replica that was almost permanently glued onto his face as part of a cruel joke while he was hungover by his roommate who he believed was his long time friend in both timelines. * For zero_one, his linked soul form gives him ghost like characteristics like visible ribs outside his suit and a single glowing pupil in his left eye.

Edit  The Tombsona’s also have different host in this AU as well. 

Doc is a woman in her late 20s, Armstrong is a huskier gentleman who’s is his 30’s, And Tesla has a side burns and goatee and in his early 20s. Rust is possibly biracial but his skin is so discolored it’s hard to actually tell.

[onthesandsofdreams]

Halloween Party

Pairing: Steve/Diana Rating: T Summary: “So… we’re throwing the Halloween part this year, right?”

Diana looked up from her laptop, Steve stood at the kitchen’s doorway, leaning casually against it, he bore a small frown. “Yes,” she told him. “Sameer hosted last year. It’s our turn this one.”

“Oh jolly,” Steve walked into the kitchen, opened a cabinet door and grabbed a glass. “So, do you have any plans on how to outdo him?” Words: 1959 Notes: A gift for @steventrevor, here you go Mara dear, your gift!

Read @ AO3

“So… we’re throwing the Halloween part this year, right?”

Diana looked up from her laptop, Steve stood at the kitchen’s doorway, leaning casually against it, he bore a small frown. “Yes,” she told him. “Sameer hosted last year. It’s our turn this one.”

“Oh jolly,” Steve walked into the kitchen, opened a cabinet door and grabbed a glass. “So, do you have any plans on how to outdo him?” He asked as he walked to the fridge and grabbed the pinot that was opened and served himself. Once he did, he lifted the bottle, silently asking if she wanted some.

She shook her head, “No to both your questions, but maybe would turn the house – and I do mean, the whole house – into a haunted house?”

Steve sat down next to Diana, “That sounds like a plan, we’d need stuff though. We have basic supplies, we’d need more.” He thought for a moment, “Could come expensive, but you know what? Worth it. Maybe we could even enter the ‘best decorated house’ contest and win it too. What’s the prize on that, do you remember?”

“A thousand in cash, a week’s worth of groceries and we skip duties on the next potluck.”

Steve nodded, “Worth it. So, let’s make battle plans.”

She and Steve spent a week pouring over websites, google and other resources to decide how to decorate the house. In the end, it was Steve who came with their most impressive idea.

“I got it!” Steve bolted upright, disturbing Diana’s sleep. “Diana, a musical light show!”

Diana, still tired, sleepy and disoriented said, “Steve, it’s the middle of the night, please go to sleep.”

“Diana, sleep later. We can put a musical light show, to two songs: Ghostbuster’s theme and This is Halloween.”

She closed her eyes, resting her head against her pillow, “If I accept, would you let me go back to sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Then fine, we’re doing a light show. I’ll worry about it when I’m awake. Goodnight Steve.”

“Night Diana.”

True to her word, she worried the moment she was fully awake and able to realize what she had agreed to, but Steve showed her some light shows videos, promising to get the best and installed by a professional that calmed her down. They did looked quite spectacular and besides, the light show would only be up the week before Halloween and on Halloween itself – that fell on Saturday, what a luck!

They gathered outdoor decorations, found the skeletons and tombstones they wanted. A fog machine that called her fancy, some lights that would hang from the tree outside in their yard and hanging bats that could be put there too.

For the inside of their home, they bought spiderweb to put all over, a skeleton that when someone passed it by greeted hello, ghosts that could be hanged from the ceiling, bats and spiders to put everywhere, plenty of candy for trick-or-treaters, lights that would flicker every so often, crystal balls that fogged, severed hands to hide in all sorts of places, mirrors with a shadow in it, warning signs, signs with creepy and oblique warnings, two wreath of snakes for their stairwell, an animated doorbell that hand an eye that blinked, skulls, two punch bowls that stood on ravens and plenty of other things. And then, they set themselves up to the task of decorating the moment the second week of October entered.

“Why are we doing this again?” Diana asked, as she looked down from her ladder, as she placed more spiderweb on the corner of their living room. “Why did I agree?”

Steve, who was hiding severed limbs grinned, “Because it will be a memorable party, it will be fun and it shut Sameer up about his decorating skills.”

“Fine.” She looked at her handywork, nodded once and descended. “I’m adding more spiderwebs in the kitchen and hiding some eyes on shelves. What are you doing next?”

“Installing the doorbell. The light show guys will be here in an hour, so I’ll supervising that too.”

“Well then, carry on.”

***

Decorating the whole house took them two days, by the end of Sunday they were exhausted, but quite happy. “The house looks amazing,” Diana said after coming out of the bath. “We really outdid ourselves. Worth the expense.”

Steve, who was lounging in the bed, grinned, “Well, it’ll even itself on years to come. I mean, we don’t have to go all out every year, we can pick and choose what to put and when, but what we got has the quality to last years, so, win. And agreed, the house is awesome.”

She couldn’t help but to smile back at Steve, “It will be a fun party, I’m sure. I can’t believe we actually found enough creepy songs for a full playlist.”

“Halloween, like Christmas sells.”

“That it does.” She let herself fall on the bed, her body ached, but it was the sort of ache she liked, that one that said that her body had been busy. “I’m very much looking forward seeing everyone’s faces.”

“Me too, but I’m beat. Goodnight, goddess mine.”

“Goodnight sweetheart.”

***

One week flew them by, their neighbors had already complimented their house décor. And Steve would always grin and say, “Wait ‘till you see the light show’. It was a moment of glory as they stood outside, after night had fallen for Steve to push the button that would start the show.

The moment it began, her jaw dropped. The lights danced, the ghost shaped lights had mouths that ‘sang’ along to the music. A pair of neighbors came out, and stood there watching as the show went on. Steve simply grinned like a loon and she felt a swell of pride, yes, their home would be the best decorated and win this year.

“It’s amazing,” she said, her voice was barely loud above the music. “Steve, this is fantastic.”

Steve came to her side, threw an arm around her and pulled her close. “See, genius idea.”

She burrowed into his arm, letting his cologne wash over her and his warmth sheltered her against the Autumn chill. She chuckled, “Yes, just try and not have more genius ones when we are asleep. Do be a genius awake.”

Steve let out a mock gasp of indignation. “Well, miss Diana, I’ll have you know that…”

She laid a finger against his lips, “I tease. You are quite brilliant when you’re awake too.”

“That’s a relief,” Steve muttered against her finger, then kissed it gently. “Let’s go inside. Oh, we really need to get the last décor.”

She frowned, “Did we forget something?”

Steve pulled her towards their home, “Pumpkins, for craving and place some candles – electric, of course – inside.”

“Oh. Well then, we can get them tomorrow.”

“We really should wait until Wednesday, I don’t want them to rot or spoil before hand.”

“Very well.”

***

It was Wednesday morning when they got several pumpkins for their entrance, they got smaller ones for the steps up their front door and once they went home, they were going to start craving them. Steve had gotten the tools earlier during their shopping spree.

“How in the hell is pumpkin craving so hard?! The movies make it look so easy!” Steve ranted, irritated as he tried to follow the pattern they had traced on the pumpkin. Steve was going for a ghost, she was going for a face. “I’m not happy.”

She grinned, “Take it easy, love. It’s not that hard.” True to her word, she was doing much better than Steve, she had managed to do it faster and with a steady hand, so her face was coming along nicely. Once she finished, she would move to a smaller pumpkin and crave a spider or a bat. “It’s easy, just follow the design.”

Steve gave her a look, “I know, that’s what I’m doing, but it’s still not coming along.”

She stopped what she was doing, took his project and began to show him how to do it. It was funny that she had such easy, because it was also her first time doing so, Steve had decorated pumpkins before, but it had been quite a few years since he last done so. “See,” she said as she moved her hand and carved the ghost. “Easy.”

Steve had a sharp look, full of determination. “Got it, give me that. This gourd won’t defeat me.”

She laughed. “Of course not.”

Working slowly, but surely, they finished the pumpkins that same day. Steve had bought battery operated candles that would give enough light for them, they made a lovely sight. She would’ve added flame candles, specially if she had added cinnamon to them, or ones that smelled like pumpkin pie or spice. But it wasn’t to be, maybe next year, when they didn’t have so many things on.

The day of the party arrived, she and Steve had been responsible adults enough to make food ahead of time. Said food was things that made things easier, they made sandwiches and they had pigs on a blanket ready to toss in the oven, alongside spicy wings and they had placed a large order of pizzas. Two large punches were ready, an alcoholic and one non alcoholic, plus sodas and strong liquors. For costumes, they decided to match the music and went as Jack and Sally.

And then, they ready themselves for it.

Sameer, when seeing the house sighed and said, “You two crazy kids. You went all out, didn’t you?”

Steve’s grin was smug, “Of course we did, sometimes it doesn’t hurt to throw a good party, don’t you think?”

Sameer arched a brow, “Yes, of course.” He looked around, “And I have to say, it’s magnificent. Now, point me at the food.”

With the music, their friends and neighbor popping in, it was an amazing party, one that lasted well until after midnight. They fell on the bed, “I have to take the make up, but I can’t move.” She said. “I should’ve take it off before coming to bed.”

“I’m beat myself. I also have to take off make up.” Steve turned to Diana, “How do you put on make up every day and then take it off at night and do it all over again next morning?”

She smiled, “Because I can, it’s sort of zen for me. As I’m doing my make up, my mind is blank. That’s another form of meditation for me.”

“Huh. Interesting,” Steve grunted and stood from the bed. “I’ll be back.”

She followed him with her eyes as he went to the bathroom. And while he was gone, she managed to slide off her costume and tossed aside her wig, she didn’t bother putting things nicely, she just tossed everything aside and waited until Steve came back.

When he did, he had his costume under his arm and no make up. She stood and went to wash her face, good thing they had no plans for today. She looked herself in the mirror, even with the make up, she looked tired.

She grabbed her make up remover, then began to take it away. It came off slowly, and when it did, she grabbed her soap and opened the water and waited until it came out warm, she washed her face slowly and enjoyed feeling her skin clean. She closed the tap, grabbed her face towel and gently dried it, put serum and then her night cream and went back to the bed.

Steve was asleep. She smiled softly, crawled into bed with him, turned the light off and promptly fell asleep.

It was later that day, when Steve got a text from the HOA, they had won the décor contest. They both grinned. Victory.

[athenadcvell]

The Mechanic: Pt. 2

Link: Part 1

Summary: This is the second part to the first part of The Mechanic. Basically about Harley surviving the snap and becoming apart of Tony’s family. May or may not make more parts, we’ll see.

Word Count:

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Tony was never the biggest fan of post-apocalyptic movies.

They were all so… unrealistic. If the world ended, the Avengers would be there to pick it back up. It wouldn’t resemble those over dramatic, grey skied dystopias where everybody is always depressed.

However, then the world actually ‘ended’. And the world may have not been completely like those movies, but it was pretty damn similar.

And that’s why Tony made it his number one priority to keep all sadness and despair away from his sweet little home in the woods. Away from his family.

Family.

Just a few years ago, Tony could barely say he had a family. There was Rhodey, and Happy, plus the rest of the Avengers, but in the end, Tony would go home to an empty house. Then, Pepper gave him a second chance, and even with the snap killing away someone he had held so close to his heart, he had found it in him to rebuild from the rubble.

That’s why now, as he picked up spare clothing around the house for the laundry, Tony cant help but stop and smile as his family peacefully sits in the living room. Not just his wife, but also Harley, who he had legally adopted not too long ago.

A very pregnant Pepper lay on the couch, reading whatever book she had picked out this time, with Harley, cross legged on the floor playing a video game. Tony wasn't quite sure what game he played, but he knew it managed to consume most of his attention as of late.

“Harley,” Pepper looked up from her book, barely managing to catch the teens attention. “Could you grab me a glass of water?”

Harley turned around, raising a brow at the glass sitting on the table.

“I got that one for you, like, five minutes ago. You already finished it?”

“There’s another human being in me, consuming almost everything I consume,” Pepper deadpanned. “Excuse me for being thirsty.”

Harley dropped the remote, holding his hands up and muttering a sorry as he went to complete the task.

“Don’t even try arguing with her,” Tony said quietly as Harley passed him. “Especially In this state, there’s no chance in winning without unleashing the monster.”

It earned him a small laugh, which was enough for Tony. When Harley had first begun living in the compound, there was rarely a smile on his lips. It was expected. His family was dead, he had just hiked for days with nothing but a small backpack and survivor’s guilt… it would be tough for him to get back to his usual self.

However, not too long after moving into the cabin, things started to look up. Pepper announcing she was pregnant. Planning for their small little wedding in front of the lake. A family was built from broken pieces, and though Harley would still wake in the middle of the night with nightmares, or have a breakdown at random moments if he happens to find something triggering, both Pepper and Tony were always there for him.

Harley left down the hall to retrieve the water, while Tony and Pepper returned to their tasks. The chiming of the doorbell broke concentration.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, who is it?” Tony asked.

“Not sure, boss,” The A.I. responded, projecting an image on Tony’s watch. A man he didn’t recognize stood at the doorway awkwardly, dark haired and blue eyed. He frowned down at the picture.

“Who is it, Tony?” Pepper looked from her book, noticing her husband’s troubled expression. Tony shook his head, giving her a small smile.

“Probably just some lost hiker. I’ll go shoo him off,” Setting down his basket, Tony walked over to the door and opened it, giving the man a polite smile, while remaining alert in case of attack. “Can I help you?”

The man’s gaze shifted from his shoes to the now open doorway, clearly exhausted. There was something… familiar about him. Tony couldn’t quite place what.

“I… I’m sorry, I’m looking for two kids,” The man explained, running a frantic hand through his hair.

Tony’s heart dropped at his words, as pieces began to click together, He refused to give in just yet.

“Kids?” He repeated, clicking his tongue. “Not sure I can help you. Sorry about that,” Tony moved to shut the door, however, the man was quick to place a hand on it. Tony stared at the hand on his door, then back at the man. Some nerves this guy had.

“Harley and Sarah Keener,” The man continued, ignoring the hard set gaze Tony was giving him. “Please, I need to find them. I-I need to know if they’re still alive.”

“If you’re looking for someone, then go to the tombstones. Everyone dead is listed there,” Tony knew it was cruel to turn this man away, especially considering who he was. But he doesn’t care. He won’t jeopardize his family. “Other than that, I think you should leave.”

“They’re my kids, please!” The man exclaimed.

Tony knew. A part of him knew the second F.R.I.D.A.Y threw up the projection. However, there is a fine line between thinking you know, and actually knowing. And he has just crossed it.

“Please,” The man repeated, his voice cracking. “My name is Jack Williams, and if you know where they are-”

“Harley’s here,” Tony snapped, cutting him off. He could lie, turn him away. But that wasn't his choice, and he then realized that. Harley should have been able to make that decision on his own.

“W-what?” Jack’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Harley’s in the kitchen right now,” Tony explained nonchalantly. “He lives with me and my wife now, after his mom and sister died. Oh, and after you decided to make a one way trip to 7-Eleven.”

Jack’s eyes gazed down as he processed the information. His ex: Dead. Daughter: Dead. But his son? Sitting inside that house, not a clue that his deadbeat father was waiting outside, hoping for some kind of reunion.

“Then let me see him,” Jack frowned at Tony, trying to step into the house. His path is immediately blocked.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Tony stares at him coldly, pushing his shoulders back. “You take one more step towards this door, and I’ve got about a hundred security protocols that I can initiate with just one word. And guess what? They all end with your ass six feet in the ground, and Harley doesn’t ever have to know you were here.”

Pepper has caught sight of what is going on at this point, silently watching her husband handle this. She would intervene, however, being as pregnant as she is, she doesn’t want to risk the baby.

“But I won’t,” Tony continued, easing the stiffness in his shoulders. No use getting worked up for this waste of space. “That’s Harley’s decision.” Jack opened his mouth to object, but the door had already been shut in his face.

“Tony?” Pepper sighed, searching her husband’s face for some kind answer. She’s become fluent in reading him, but this is an all new emotion all together. A fatherly one.

“Sorry that took so long, I found a spider and was trying to get it outta the house,”

Harley announced as he exited the kitchen, running a hand through his brown locks while carrying a chilled glass of water in the other. Pepper silently took it from him, trying her best to put on a grateful smile. It came out morbid.

Harley’s own smile faltered at her grim features, turning to Tony, who didn’t even attempt to cover the mixed feelings of emotions written across his eyes and lips.

“What’s going on?” The teenager turned between the two, clearly confused.

“Your father's here,” Tony doesn’t try to sugarcoat or ease into the topic. It’s best to just rip it off like a bandage, which he does, and Harley’s response is just as expected.

“W-what?” His voice was barely above a whisper, as if a lower tone would mean the words would just rewrite themselves.

“He wants to see you,” Tony stared at the floor, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Did you tell him to go?” Harley asked, swallowing thickly. Tony gazed up, his brows furrowing together. Not angrily, but… sadly.

“No,” He shook his head. “It’s not my place to tell him to go. He’s not here for me,” Harley sucked in a sharp breath, wordlessly walking to the door. He walked in quick, loud steps, but there is a cave in his shoulders from the fear and nervousness. Why wouldn’t he be? He spent countless nights running to his parents’ bedroom for his father’s comfort, only to find an empty bed. With his mom working such long nights, Harley was basically the parent for his sister. He did his father’s job. And now he’s here, wanting some sort of relationship with the child he left behind.

What gives him the right? The anger boils in Harley, and he wants to yell, and scream at Jack. That’s all he wants, at this moment. And yet, all he can do is stand in front of the door with shaking hands. Like some sort of coward.

“I can tell him to go, Har,” Tony gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to do this now,” Pepper added, to let him know he had both of their support. Harley shook his head, slowly wiggling out of Tony’s grasp.

“No. I can do this,” He stated firmly, praying they don’t see how badly his hand trembles as he opened the door.

A part of him hoped that Jack had already left, disappeared from his life for a second time.

His heart dropped when he saw him sitting on the steps of the porch.

As soon as he saw his son, Jack sprang up, hope filling his eyes. It was odd, the way he looked, to Harley. When you’re a child, you worship the ground your parents walk across. They are pure and sinless creatures who seem like Gods. But now? Harley realizes how flawed they really are.

Jack isn’t quite as tall as he had always imagined him. Taller than Tony and Pepper, but still an inch or two beneath Harley. He looks different, as well. It may be the stress, or age, but Harley doesn’t remember his father looking so disheveled, like someone had picked him hungover from a bar. Perhaps that’s exactly what this ‘look’ is.

“Hey, buddy,” Jack grinned, and it seemed to wide. Too fake. His eyes are the most unsettling part. They’re identical to Harley’s. Funny. With the lack of photos in the house, Harley had just always assumed his father had brown eyes. Guess not.

“Hello, Jack,” Harley blinked, trying his best to keep a stoic expression.

“How are you,'' Jack ignored the cold tone, his foot tapping anxiously. He looked up at the house, grinning. “Nice place you got here, huh? They treating you alright?”

“Better than you ever did,” He can’t help it. Harley’s still a teen. Meaning he can’t exactly hold back cruel comments. Not that this is mean. Jack doesn’t even know mean, yet.

“I deserve that,” Jack nodded, his smile vanishing. He walked forward suddenly, causing Harley to flinch. His entire body stiffened up when Jack deemed it okay to wrap him in a tight hug. “I’m so, so sorry, bud. I should’ve never left, I should have stayed with you and your-”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Harley can’t be a feelingless robot anymore and just simply tell Jack to leave. He thought it would be that simple, but it's not. He yanked Jack’s hands off of him and pushed him away. “I was seven when you left! I was a kid! And now, you’re crawling back! Where do you get off thinking you can just do that?!” Harley screamed, his voice cracking at the end. Jack is stunned by the outburst.

“I-”

“Please, for the love of God, leave,” Harley rubbed his face, turning away as the tears begin to fall.

“Son,” Jack began softly, not giving up. “We’re family. After all that’s happened, family has to stick together.”

“No!” Halrey whipped around, no longer caring if Jack saw the broken pieces he caused. He jabbed a finger violently at his father’s chest. “You are not my family! You were never my family. My family is dead! They-” He cried, pointing at the door. “-are my family now. They love me, and they would never leave me one night because they felt ‘overwhelmed’. You’re a coward, and a deadbeat. You… You need to go,” Harley doesn’t wait for a reply. He can’t. He turned and rushed back inside..

His body shook violently in sobs as he slammed the door closed and fell to his knees. He’s thought of what to say to Jack’s face for years, and when the time comes? He can only get a few sentences out before the emotions rack up and cave in on him. It’s just like all those nights, when he feels so alone that it becomes too much to handle.

But this time, it’s different. Because he’s not alone. Harley is made very aware of that as soon as Tony’s arms wrapped around him, a safe haven from the cruel hands of his real father.

“It’s not fair!” Harley cried, running frantic hands through his hair. “Why does he get to live? Why does my mom and sister die and he gets to live?!”

“I know, kid,” Tony rubbed his back, sighing. “It’s not fair. But you did good out there,” Tony pulled back, staring Harley firmly yet kindly in the eyes. “I’m proud of you, kid.”

And that’s all Harley really needs to hear. A phrase he didn’t have the privilege of hearing very often of growing up. A phrase he had never heard from his father.

And yet, that’s the difference between Jack and Tony. Jack is Harley’s father. But Tony?

Tony is the closest thing to Harley’s dad. To his home. He and Pepper both. And Harley will take that.

[itsreallylaterightnow]

Febuwhump: Run Into My Arms(walk with me into the light) Chapter 1: (Lost) - Don’t Leave Me Now

HERE WE GOOOO! SURPRISE! I posted the first chapter of Febuwhump on the last day of January! I can’t be tamed! But actually, I just have to be out all day tomorrow and be able to post, so you get it a day early! Please check it out, and make sure to give the biggest of thanks to @akillerqueenyouare​ & @seaweedbrain3000​ for all of their help on this! 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22499866/chapters/53765497

AUTHOR NOTES: 

First and foremost thank you to my AMAZING beta readers! I could not have done it without you both! @akillerqueenyouare​ & @seaweedbrain3000​ on Tumblr! Check them both out! Both are so incredibly talented, and did so much to help ensure that this was somewhat readable ;)

Secondly, this takes place after Endgame. In this timeline Carol Danvers is the one that snapped (she won't be in this story but just so know exactly where we are in the timeline!) Also, Steve didn't do the out of character crap and leave with the stones. He is still very much so present for this fic!

Thirdly, this is a whump-filled fic! If you are not prepared for that, then please don't click on, but I will give specific warnings before each chapter. The warnings will contain spoilers, so don't read unless you are prepared for that!

Lastly, please don't forget to come say hi on my tumblr! (Itsreallylaterightnow)! I have put so much work into the fic, and I cannot wait for your feedback!

I am posting this early, because I won't be able to post tomorrow, I'll be out all day at a basketball game! So, you're welcome! :)

Now, sit back, relax, and dig into this inter-connected labor of my love!

Warnings: Major Character Death, Panic Attack, Mild Dissociation.

Song: Falling x Harry Styles

HERE WE GOOOOO!!!! 

He wasn’t okay. He hadn’t been okay, and he wouldn’t be okay for the foreseeable future. Actually, he wouldn’t be okay forever. Past this life and into whatever lay on the other side.

The other side. God, it sounded beautiful. To be there. To be with her.

To be with her dark hair, intense- unwavering eyes. To see her. Just one last – white-knuckle-gripping – time. One last time. To wrap his arms around her thin waist, to feel the comfort and protection that he held around her. To shower her in the love that he felt in every inch of his body for her. He wanted to kiss her lips- they were the softest things he had ever felt. If eyes were the window to the soul, her lips were the opening of the window and inviting him into her life.

He could have listened to her voice forever. He could have just sat - unwavering. Unfaltering - beside her forever. His eyes roaming over her face, taking in the rays of sunshine that they leaked out. The warmth from her soul shining onto his – knowing he was truly and irrevocably immortal beside her.

It was the knowledge that he had been wrong. So horribly, undeniably, painstakingly wrong. That in one split second – he had lost that light forever. To be alone forever. To be so lonely. Forever.

He could remember. The exact moment. The single, millisecond that he lost his entire world. That he shattered the glass figure that he had sworn to protect for life.

His back screamed in pain, his shoulder yanking him violently. The web in his left hand pulling taught. All he could think was that he’d done it! He’d killed the Green Goblin, and saved MJ! Peter had tugged her up, and into his arms, a small smile on his face, as her nose had rested in the crook of her neck. MJ had never liked heights or falling. He’d owe her a date to her favorite coffee shop for this one. He’d pulled them back up holding her so-tightly in his arms, finding Iron Man, standing on guard to help should any problems arise.

“We did it, Tony. No more- no more of this chaos, though MJ may never want to go on another date with me again,” He had teased.

“Friday, are you sure? Are you absolutely certain?” Peter had frowned then.

“Mr. Stark, I just told you, he’s dead. I promise.” But Peter was just ignored. Tony had called the suit to retract as he stepped out calmly. But there was this look- tingling down his spine – this look on Tony’s face that was so… so gravely serious. That Peter physically stumbled back. MJ was still limp in his arms, so he tugged her tighter, waiting for her to get past the “shock” stage and into the “yelling” stage that was sure to come.

“Kid-” The older man’s voice broke off. Peter just looked around, frowning as he tugged his mask off when he saw there were no civilians. “Kid, I need you to sit down.” Peter had just pulled her closer to him, shaking his head.

It started in his toes. The grief. He had known. When e had been unable to hear the heartbeat that had become second nature to him. He had known when she hadn’t moved since he’d caught her. He had known, when he’d seen her closed eyes. He had known when he’d felt no breath coming from her.

Peter stumbled forward. The weight of the girl in his arms too much for him. Collapsing down- right to his knees as he had struggled to breath.

“Tony-Tony-Tony-Tony-Tony -Tony -Tony -Tony -Tony – something’s wrong something’s wrong something’s wrong something’s wrong- help me, please help me!” he didn’t realize he was screaming. Tony had kneeled beside him, trying his best to pull MJ’s still form into his arms, but Peter had just gripped her tighter, pulling her face to his as he readjust his grip. His hand running through those curls- the last time they would run through those curls.

“Hey, Michelle, Michelle- stay with me. Stay with me. You stay with me!” The something tore. His heart, being carved from his chest as a cry tore from his throat. And tears ran down his face faster than he could have imagined. And Peter was bent over her face, weeping – unable to stop himself as the cries tore from his throat.

“PLEASE! God- please no!”

He doesn’t remember, now, how long he’d sat there. Holding her as her body had grown colder. He had sobbed until strong hands had removed her from him. Taking her away. Death- jealous of the love they’d held for one another, had stolen her straight from his grasp. Then warm arms. He needed warm arms. He’d been so cold. Chills racing up and down his body. A world without sunlight in it. A world without hope, with no way for him to fix it. A world where he never again would smile. His sun had gone down. And no more would he feel.

Something laid over his shoulders, familiar, strong hands helping him stand as numb footstep after numb footstep carried him to the nearest vehicle. Someone was talking - but he didn’t hear it. Someone was holding him. He couldn’t feel it.

He doesn’t know how long they drove, but eventually the moving blurs of the vehicle stopped. But Peter’s world continued to flash by him as he desperately tried to tie himself down. Then his foot touched the ground, and he had screamed as though he been stabbed, his body collapsing. Someone reaching for him- dark eyes and motor oil – but Peter had screamed more.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!” The arms raised in surrender as the eyes plead for an answer. “I did it, Mr.- oh God- I did this! I – I caught her- and I, it was too much- she died because-I” And then he couldn’t breathe. He was under the building, hands shaking as he pushed at the concrete. The concrete had hands, as his vision blurred with dark spots. He could hear yelling, but it didn’t matter, it would never matter.

Something pricked his arm, and Peter felt his body beginning to go limp. A strange peace settling over him. Someone’s fingers in his hair (he’d ran his fingers through her hair too).

“We’ve got you, Pete. We’ve got you.” As his eyes closed, his soul eternally grateful for the peace the darkness brought.

~~~

So, here he found himself. Stone cold- sat against the side of her tombstone. His fingers running over the etching of her name. She had been so much more than just her name. Tony had paid for the funeral, the tombstone – it was a beautiful black marble with gold etching. Exactly what Michelle would have picked for herself.

You know, she had always told Peter that flowers were ridiculous. “They just die, Peter. Sure they’re pretty for a while, but why waste time and money on something that will just wither away too soon?” If he could go back – God if only he could go back – he would have grabbed her face and drawn his own into a deadly serious stare:

“Michelle,” the lone boy in the winter cold whispered to no one. “Michelle, you love the flowers, and admire the flowers continuously, every aching day that you have with them because you never know when it will be the last. You grip tightly to each petal, and you watch as the color drifts away slowly, because you know that they will wilt and die. You know that you only have a limited amount of time with them, so you sit and admire their beauty for every possible second that you have been granted with them. And then when it’s over, you sit and thank them for gracing you with their time. For being your brightness in the dull room. For lighting up every day with a splash of color in the dreary world. And then, you’ll decide to never buy flowers again. Because you know that it will never be the same as the first time.”

He took a shuddering breath, the wind stabbing at his lungs.

“It will never be the same as the first time.”

[ladykeane]

Bertie and Reg dress up for Halloween at Dahlia's!! and the party!!!

To the lovely Nonny who sent this, I profusely apologise if you’re not the massive weeb/animation geek that I am. But this idea stuck, and I couldn’t help myself!

Fair warning, it’s quite silly, most definitely cracky, and completely self indulgent…

There was a lesson given to me by my drama teacher at school, Mrs Irving, that has always stayed with me. The gist of her teaching was that a good actor must have a sort of dual consciousness. I suppose what she meant was that a chap should have the power to transform his mindset into that of the character he plays - and then just as easily slip back into his usual mental space, once the curtain falls. There must co-exist a Bertie-the-Wooster and Bertie-the-Prince-Hal within a single animal. Well, I suppose I have put this lesson to good use in my adult life, as I can attest that Bertie-the-Drone, Bertie-the-obedient-nephew and Bertie-the-seducer-of-certain-Jeeveses manage to be conjured at the drop of a whatsit.

A particularly surprising example of this dual consciousness wheeze occurred just recently, on the night of Aunt Dahlia’s annual Halloween bash. I suppose the lifted veil to the spirit world aided this shift of the Wooster disposish. (Well, the costume probably helped too, not to mention my dear auntie’s insistence that her party guests never drop out of character for the whole of the evening. That can make certain things a tad awkward, such as bathroom ablutions. One must ask: does Superman use the lavatory at all?)

I was given the scoop on the event by my ancestor over the phone, as I sat digesting a fourth-or-fifth slice of Reg’s birthday cake. (This year he had requested a Black Forest, and I have to say that I outdid myself. The leftover kirsch was also a boon.)

‘Super-groups?’ I asked. ‘You mean like the Travelling Wilburys?’‘No, young clot, I mean super-groups like the Avengers, Justice League, and their lycra-clad ilk. The group with the best costumes and most convincing delivery will receive a prize from your Uncle Tom and myself.’‘Ooh! And what is that?’‘For one, a cooking lesson with Anatole. Apparently he owed Reg a favour, and your man generously donated said favour to me.’I glanced an appreciative glance at my beloved, who sat perusing the W.H. Auden anthology I had given him.‘Secondly, a near-pristine Nintendo Gamecube, complete with controllers and a collection of best-selling game cartridges.’‘You mean the one you confiscated from Angela and myself? I still think that was an unfair punishment.’‘I say, it was entirely fair! Do you forget that I got stuck with the bill to clean your old headmaster’s office!? I am told that the stench of baked beans can still be detected throughout the school halls, to this very day! Anyway, I would advise you to get cracking. The competition will be stiff, I hear Angela’s little friends have been working on their costumes since August. Perhaps you and Reg could go as Batman and Robin!’‘Perhaps, auntie.’‘Well, pip-pip then. I’ve got many a fake tombstone and skeleton to haul down from the attic.’

As I hung up, Reg raised his head from his book. ‘I believe Mrs Travers has briefed you on this year’s Halloween festivities?’‘Indeed. She’s never offered a prize for the guests before. They’re real plums, at that. I reckon it would be well worth the splurge to get some first-rate togs.’‘May I ask what this year’s theme is?’‘Super-groups. By which I mean, groups of superheroes. She suggested we go as Batman and Robin! We’re already quite the dynamic duo, anyway. What d’you think?’

As I uttered these words, the Jeevesian brow began sinking south, until the look on his face chilled the lukewarm cup of tea sitting at my elbow.‘I should say not, Bertram.’‘Oh. Well… what about Danger Mouse and Penfold? You could be DM, of course.’‘I regret that I shall be unable to attend this year’s festivities. I have much to do to complete the Earl of Rowcester’s living will.’

Of all the paper-thin excuses! ‘Oh, don’t give me that Reg! What is it? You don’t care to be in the same room as all that brightly-coloured spandex? You fared just fine at last year’s “Stranger Things” soiree, and we were surrounded by a multitude of eighties fashion, at that!’(He made quite the dashing Steve Harrington, actually. Aunt Dahlia cast this Bertram as Dustin, so while I was able to tag after him all night there was an unfortunate dearth of snogging.)‘I am afraid I must insist. I do not care to be dressed in the bright, garish apparel that is requisite of superheroes.’

Given that it was the lowly rotter’s birthday, I held on to the flames that should have escaped from my nostrils. ‘Oh, very well, Reg. Have it your way.’ To ensure that none of my internal invective against him slipped past the Wooster lips, I left the flat for a sullen trudge about Mayfair.

***

That very evening, Bingo Little summoned self and several other Drones to dinner. He was in town with his husband Randy, to look for a property where they could spend their Winters. While the reports given indicated that all was spiffy within their NYC townhouse, Randy wanted to ensure that his paramour did not lose touch with his British roots. And I think I remembered him saying that his next novel was to be set in South Kensington, inspired by the likes of Richard Curtis and Hugh Grant. All rather convenient, no?

‘That Gamecube and cooking lesson with Anatole is as good as ours, lads. I have the perfect idea for our super-group.’ Here Bingo took a long sip of tea, leaving us in a state of eye-boggling suspense.‘Christ and his disciples?’ suggested Stinker.‘The Bloomsbury Group?’ queried Boko.‘Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?’ asked Gussie.

‘Better,’ Bingo finally replied, a rivulet of tea dribbling down his chin. ‘Do you know “Sailor Moon��?’

‘Sparkly schoolgirl with the pigtails? Yes, I recall watching the English language version with Angela sometimes. Quite a cheesy romp, that.’‘Oh, you ought to read the original manga ,’ said Boko. ‘A perfect blend of costumed superhero action and romantic high fantasy!’

For the next half hour, we were subject to Boko and Bingo giving us a full synopsis of the dratted space opera, complete with character studies, mythological references, and feminist overtones. Now, I have known my fellow Drones to sometimes possess hidden depths, but I was unsure whether this encyclopedic grasp of a Japanese super-girl-group was more of a mild pathology instead.

‘So,’ Bingo announced, ‘I believe I’ve figured out the perfect casting for each of us. I shall be Sailor Venus, of course, the soldier of love. Randy does call me his golden love god, after all.’ (Pause here for requisite retching.) ‘Gussie can be Sailor Mercury, given his general… wateriness. Boko’s love of house plants is perfect for Sailor Jupiter. And due to his spiritual calling, Stinker will be Sailor Mars, the shrine-maiden.’

I was trying to picture each of my chums kitted out in a colour coded schoolgirl costume. Perhaps we would score points for comedic effect, if nothing else.‘And what about me?’ I asked.‘Well, you’ll be our Sailor Moon, naturally.’‘Golly! I must say, Bingo, I’m quite chuffed to be given the starring role. I assume that it’s due to my former experience with drag, not to mention my theatrical prowess and general heroic gravitas.’‘Well… I suppose. It’s also because Sailor Moon is supposed to be a ditzy blonde crybaby.’‘Ah.’The judicious nods that the others gave were a tad insulting.

‘Does this mean that I’ll have to wax? ’ asked Gussie.

***

Now, if you’ve ever seen the much-celebrated cartoon, you’ll know that one of the highlights of every episode is the spangly transformation sequences, where each heroine morphs from humdrum schoolgirl into celestial warrioress. Our first go at donning the famous fuku was much less glamorous.

Boko knew a chap who knew a lass who worked at a highly-regarded fancy dress company. Apparently, many a masquerade-goer and cosplayer has raved about their beautifully crafted goods. As we trundled our way out their HQ on the tube, we were all in high hopes of scoring the perfect outfits. As it happens, the fitting session that followed made me appreciate just how inadequate the standard sizing of womens’ apparel really is.

Bingo and I had the best luck, but the costumes closest to fitting us were narrow in the shoulders and wide in the hips. Gussie managed to squeeze into one of the larger sizes, but resembled more of a wrinkly chicken sausage than a cute superheroine. (The skirt was appallingly short on him, and when he bent over to grab his phone from his bag I was quite traumatised.) Stinker, who is built akin to a silverback gorilla, utterly utterly destroyed the costume he attempted to yank on. I offered to foot the bill for that one, as a vicar’s salary can only cover so many breakages per month.

‘It’s no good, boys,’ sighed the seamstress who had patiently assisted us, ‘you’ll need to get these custom-made.’‘And how long will that take?’ asked Bingo.She put on a brave face. ‘I’ll do my best to get them ready for Halloween, but bear in mind I’ve already got a backlog of orders to finish.’‘Chin up!’ I replied. ‘I can probably ask a favour of the drag queen who did my costuming for “Legally Blonde” - Reg cut her a sweet deal with a new agent at the time. I’ll ask if she can source the shoes and wigs and things.’

A level of relief washed on to the girl’s face at this. I’d feel the same, if I were freed from the task of cobbling a pair of Stinker Pinker-sized red pumps.‘Even so, we’ll be cutting it close with this order. I doubt I’ll be done before the morning of the 31st.’‘Send me the bill for your energy drinks,’ I offered.‘It’s a deal.’

***

Time ticked on, and All Hallows Eve drew near. While I did my best not to harbour any full-on wrath against Reg at his blowing-off of the party, I couldn’t help but act a tad pipped towards him. Were lurid leotards and shiny accessories really so horrid?When he snuggled close to me on the sofa, I scooched away. When he dropped a kiss upon my map, my only response was tight-lipped disinterest. The blighter refused to compromise, so wherefore should this Wooster succumb to his entreaties? I took a lot of cold showers that week.

The big day came, and still nary a costume was yet received.‘5pm, she said,’ Boko told me, ‘and we’ll have to go and pick them up ourselves.’‘Hm, that is cutting it close. Well, bear up, old fruits! Leather Smalls will be along this arvo to do our make-up and hair.’‘Leather Smalls?’‘Didn’t I tell you? She’s part of an all-drag M People tribute act.’

If I can impart to you the experience of tubing it across suburban London in a long blonde, pigtailed wig, a full face of makeup, and masculine civvies, accompanied by four other similarly styled blokes, you probably wouldn’t doubt my claim that it was one of the more surreal experiences in my life. Halloween is not quite the big deal here that it is across the pond, so we got quite the share of wolf whistles, disapproving auntly glares, and ‘yaaaas, queen’s from our fellow travellers.

At last, at last, we arrived at Brinkley Court, freshly finished costumes in hand. The coloured lights, costumed crowd, and strains of ‘Monster Mash’ from within indicated a party already in full swing.As we entered the front door, I grabbed for the first bowl of sweets I could find, given my lowered blood sugar.‘That’s it!? Gawd, Bertie, you could have at least made an effort!’

Angela had grabbed one of the sweets from my hand and popped it in her mouth. I wasn’t quite sure who she was supposed to be, but her costume was really quite the thing.She was caked head-to-toe in light purple body paint, with a long wig in a paler shade of the same colour. A brilliant gem was affixed to her chest, and she wielded a long double-headed whip. I did not feel inclined to backtalk her.‘So who’ve you come as?’‘One of the Crystal Gems, obvs. Anyway, you need to go easy on those. Mum says that some neighbourhood bullies have been stealing sweets from the trick-or-treating kids, and she’s promised to recompense them.’‘What!?’My blood was now boiling - what lowly cad felt the need to scam helpless rugrats out of their jelly babies and smarties?

‘Oh, it’s awful,’ said Aunt Dahlia, swiping the remaining sweets from my hand and depositing them back in their bag. ‘I just saw Captain America crying his poor little eyes out, being comforted by Bucky Barnes. A whole evening’s worth of trick-or-treating swag, stolen from them by three nasty teenagers!’‘She means Thos and Edwin,’ Angela translated.‘What teenagers?’ asked Stinker.‘Some of the nastier upperclassmen from Eton, apparently. Captain America tells me that they have a reputation for bullying even the house masters and head teachers. Great brutes.’‘Rum,’ I said. ‘But, Aunt Dahlia-’‘Who?’I took in my auntie’s costume.‘But, Catwoman, hasn’t anyone tried to pull them up for it?’‘They’ve been too wily. I was told that they also egged the Emsworths’ place, running off onto Ham Common before anyone could catch them.’‘Travesty!’ cried Boko. ‘They can’t get away with this!’‘Too right!’ I said.‘Well? You lot are supposed to be the Sailor Senshi, aren’t you? You fight for love and justice, yes?’‘Er…?’‘You must transform, and thwart the damned villains!’

The Drones and I shared a look askance. ‘Um.’‘May I remind you, Sailor Moon, of the video games and French cuisine that are up for grabs for the group who best embodies their chosen superheroes?’‘Right ho. Moon Prism Power Make Up, then!’

***

We stampeded upstairs, bottlenecking on the landing, and Stinker stumbled noisily upon the top step. Into my old bedroom, and our everyday trappings were cast off in favour of our splendid, sparkly sailor ensembles.It was a bit of a muddle - the others needed help donning their padded brassieres, not to mention adjusting their skirts to preserve modesty. But after a few fumbling minutes, we were ready to go, as resplendent a team of magical girls as Brinkley Court had ever seen.

I allowed myself an indulgent linger before the full-length mirror. I really did look cute. The big pink bow was quite flattering to my proportions, and the blue skirt and collar set off my eyes nicely.‘Come on, Sailor Moon! We’ve got a contest to win!’With a flick of my pigtails, I was off.

Bursting out of Brinkley’s front door again, we charged into the gloaming. The place looks directly out over Ham Common, and on the great stretch of lawn, it did not take us long to spot the perps.

A juvenile, quivering Wallace and Gromit were surrounded by three of the largest, most grotesque teenage boys that I’d ever beheld. Though a good decade younger than myself, they looked to be twice my height and about four times my body weight. Most ghastly of all were their choices of costume: the ringleader was dressed as Pennywise the Clown, with his two lieutenants cast as Thanos and a zombie version of Napoleon Dynamite. I admit that the hint of rotten green brain showing through his blonde afro was an impressive use of make-up, but it did turn my stomach a tad.

Just before they could rip the trick-or-treat bags from the youngsters, I put a solid, heeled boot forward.‘Leave those beloved icons of childrens’ entertainment alone!’‘Hurrr,’ slurred Thanos, ‘check out the anime drag queens.’‘Wanna come party with us, girls?’ said Pennywise. ‘We got heaps of sweeties for the sweeties!’I puffed out my padded chest. ‘Never! I stand for love and justice! And… by the Code of the Woosters, I shall punish you!’

And so it began. We swooped upon them. Wallace and Gromit scarpered, and we were met with a barrage of large humbugs. When thrown with enough velocity, those things can leave a bruise.

Behind me, Gussie boldly came up bearing a large garden hose. He turned the nozzle on the head, but instead of dousing the monsters, the force of the spray was a bit too much for him, and he clung on for dear life as the hose thrashed about in his arms. He quickly went down in a self-inflicted mud puddle.

Stinker managed to plant a shiner of a right hook on Thanos. The brute staggered away, doubled over in pain. He threw off his plastic infinity gauntlet, upon which Stinker tripped magnificently, going pumps over skirt into the turf as well.

Boko fearlessly leapt upon Napoleon’s back, wrapping his noodly arms about an equally noodly neck. Napoleon bucked about like a bronco with a bad itch. Boko did his best to hang on, but the slippery satin gloves ultimately betrayed him, and the poor soul was flung off into a nearby rose bush.

The three monsters continued running from us. It was just me and Bingo now. We exchanged a silent glance of Sailor Senshi solidarity, as we pursued them towards a clump of oak trees.With a well aimed stomp, Bingo got Pennywise right in the oversized foot, with the heel of his pump. However, before I could back him up, the two lieutenants grabbed my chum and snatched his wig by its red ribbon, hurling it up into the branches of one of the trees.‘NOT MY VENUS WIG!’Abandoning the skirmish, Bingo pathetically began clambering up the branches to try and retrieve the thing. (I mean, it was a nice wig. And if it came back damaged, I would be owing Leather Smalls big time.)

And so, the beasts turned their attention to me. Three cruel grins bore down upon me like vultures on a dying wildebeeste. They looked like they could easily pummel me into a boneless mush, and not even feel it the next day. I’m not too proud to admit that I quivered in my heeled boots.‘What was that about punishing us, sweetie?’‘Let’s hang her from the branches by those stupid pigtails!’‘Yeah! And then we’ll-’

All of a sudden, something sleek and sharp came whistling through the night air. It popped Pennywise’s balloon, and struck Thanos right between the cheeks of his ample bum.‘Ow!’‘What the…��It was a fine, thin blade, attached to a deep red rose.

The four of us whipped our heads towards the source of the floral projectile. Imagine my total astonishment to perceive, perched upon a high stone wall before the radiant moon, none other than Tuxedo Mask. Gosh, he was splendid, with his billowing black cape and aura of general rakishness.‘How dare you blackguards steal from innocent children and assault these brave soldiers. Sailor Moon, I know you can defeat them.’‘But how, dash it!?’

He tossed me a bright pink plastic object. It took me a moment to discern that it was an external hard drive. It bore a little decal of one of those colourful cartoon pony characters.I looked back at the monsters, to find Pennywise agog.‘Wh… WHERE DID YOU GET THAT!?’‘Uhm…’‘Dude… is that what I think it is?’ said Napoleon.‘GIVE IT BACK!’ cried Pennywise.

Tuxedo Mask and I shared a single silent, meaningful glance, and I dropped the thing to the grass, raising my heeled boot above it, primed to smash.‘Well… I might, if you agree to apologise to every last child you terrorised, AND return their sweeties.’‘But we already ate some,’ said Thanos.‘Alright… maybe just give them a few quid, in that case. AND you’ll be cleaning the egg off Mrs Emsworth’s front stoop.’‘Anything, ANYTHING!’ begged Pennywise. ‘Please just give me back my-’‘NIGEL!!!’

A robust, sour-faced Jean Grey was stomping across the grass, her fiery gaze fixed on Pennywise.‘You have a lot of explaining to do, young man!’‘But Mum-’‘I should confiscate your little pony stories this instant!’‘No! Please…’‘Instead, you will do exactly as Sailor Moon says, and apologise to all the people whose Halloween you have ruined! You too, Cyril, Edgar! Don’t think I won’t be telling your mothers what you’ve done!’

The clown was dragged off by his ear to begin his penance, but not before he could snatch up his pink hard drive. Now that the leader had fallen, his two henchmen slunk along in his wake.

The Sailor Senshi had regrouped, and Angela, Thos, and Edwin (sorry, Amethyst, Captain America, and Bucky) had also dashed up to join us.‘You know who that was?’ said Angela, ‘Little Nigel Belfry. I went to St George’s with his big sister Diedre. Rotten little punk. One of the worst trolls in the online “My Little Pony” fandom too.’‘He bullies us all the time,’ said Thos.‘Well, dangle the name “Eulalie” in front of him. That’s his username on all the major MLP forums. Not sure he’d like that info getting out at Eton.’ Here she thumped me on the back. ‘Well done, Sailor Moon, you gave him the punishment that he sorely needed.’‘Oh, but I couldn’t have done it without…’I turned towards the stone wall. Of course, Tuxedo Mask had already biffed off. Probably to go hunt down the Silver Imperium Crystal or something.

***

Now that the drama had wound down, we finally had a chance to mingle. I got to take in the costumes of Angela’s group: Honoria was some sort of giant magenta woman with sunglasses and boxing gloves; Florence looked lovely and delicate in a gossamer tutu, and gleefully swung about a rather frightening spear; while Madeline was surprisingly dressed in drag - some charming little chap by the name of Steven, I think. The craftwork of their outfits was simply matchless, and they were clearly the ones to beat for the contest.

After Time-Warping and Thriller-ing and Caramelldansen-ing the night away, as well as quaffing some questionable looking cocktails with names like Chemical X and Radioactive Sludge, it was time to announce the winners of the costume competition.Uncle Tom (sorry, the 4th Doctor) killed the music, and tapped a fork against his glass of Chemical X to call for silence.Dahlia-or-Catwoman hopped up on the coffee table, to better survey the throng. ‘The door prize goes to Winnie the Pooh, who clearly misunderstood the assignment.’Spode-the-Pooh shuffled up to grab his bag of humbugs, and Madeline-or-Steven applauded wildly.

‘The runners-up are Wario and Waluigi, who regrettably stayed true to their despicable characters all evening!’Claude and Eustace collected their swag of Quality Street and Jack Daniels, fighting over who would get to carry them.

Angela and I exchanged a tense side eye. Could one of us really have been left out?

‘And the first prize… is a joint win, between the Crystal Gems and the Sailor Senshi! Come on down, ladies!’Well, everyone pooh-poohs nepotism until they benefit from it. Angela and I joined hands, and led our respective groups to their shared moment of glory. (And after a little bartering, we agreed to let the girls take the cooking lesson, while we scored the Gamecube. I know that Angela has long been an avid fan of Anatole’s show ‘Cuisine Inferno’.)

***

After a little more merrymaking, the music changed from novelty festive monster songs to the cheesy fodder of slow dancing. As couples began to pair off and pitch woo, a thought occurred to me: where the devil had Tuxedo Mask gone?

At the very least, I wished to thank the fellow. It was anyone’s guess as to how he had picked up on Nigel-or-Pennywise’s little secret, but he had truly been my saviour.

I squeezed through the waves of slow dancers, trying to keep my eyes peeled for a top hat or a black cape. Alas, the only capes I could spy were of bright and garish hues.

I escaped to the quiet of Brinkley’s large, rambling back yard, in the hopes of getting a little air. As I ankled along the gravelled drive in my heeled boots, I couldn’t help but let a little melancholy sink in. Despite my search for Tuxedo Mask, I well knew who I really wanted to spend this night with.I reached the fountain, ornamented by Aunt Dahlia’s favoured statue of Artemis, and plonked my sorry self down upon its edge.‘Sailor Moon… we meet again.’

He emerged from behind the shadow of the trees, and I leapt right up.‘Tuxedo Mask! Ah… I really did want to thank you for your help back there. Awful solid of you, old chap.’

He did not come closer. ‘You are most welcome. I had been charged with organising the family affairs of the Earl of Rowcester. I encountered his youngest son, who proved to possess a most malicious and scheming temperament. I felt the temporary acquisition of the lad’s most prized digital information would prove a useful bargaining chip at some juncture.’‘And right you were, Tuxedo Mask! What a bally stroke of genius you…’

He stepped forward, and removed his eyemask.

‘Bertram, I am sorry that I was so intractable about tonight.’‘Oh… Good Lord… Reg, I hoped so dearly that it was you!’

I flew to his arms. And Angela, the sneaky brat, managed to get a good number of happy snaps of Sailor Bertie and Tuxedo Reg locked in a passionate embrace.

‘Reg?’‘Yes, my moonbeam?’‘Keep the cape.’

[historiestold-a]

cemetery horror | @myersbprd 

a bitter chill raises across porcelain skin, goosebumps forming under the teenager’s sweater as she stands in the damp cemetery and her gaze drifts between the police tape and the direction of her parent’s graves-- it had rained the night before bringing with it raging thunder which had only subsided in the early hours of the morning. no one would have heard the screams, elena thinks, a morbid hysteria threatening to overtake her. there had been no one to save the man she’d discovered laying motionless.. so motionless and pale.. and at the foot of an old statue. just as there had been no one to save the man under the bridge the day her, bonnie, and meredith had felt some sort of malevolent force chase them through the cemetery and up to the bridge or vickie bennett in the old ruined church by the old cemetery or any other incident which transpired over the days and weeks students had been forced to walk in groups and a town curfew had been enacted. there was no gallant knight coming to the dead man’s aid like stefan had her in the old cemetery on homecoming night. oh stefan, she thinks, her arms tightening around herself, i’d feel much better if you were here. whenever they were together she always felt safe and unfearful, but alone.. alone elena felt as she did a few days prior in the school gym when that strange guy had appeared and it felt as if the shadows would consume her whole. and yet, she speaks when her cousin appears as if she’s half in a daze, still lost in her thoughts and only truly awakening when he responds to her. 

"i---” going to school would mean she could see stefan, be held in his arms as they ate lunch on the field or even just sat next to each other in last period but it would also mean facing the barrage of questions her absence from half the day would elicit from her subjects. (she also held no doubt that some inference into the goings on in the cemetery had already reached the school.) and that, despite her usually cool demeanor, was not something she was sure she wanted to endure. besides, she could go to the boarding house and meet up with stefan there afterword; at least then, he couldn’t avoid being completely alone in private with her. “no. i think maybe i should say home but can we ask the school to tell mr. shelby my friends and i won’t need the gym for the haunted house meeting after school today? he stays later for us to lock up.” mr. shelby was robert e. lee’s janitor and by all accounts a nice, albeit, sometimes a little weird man but he did stay late and ensure the doors were locked after they went into the gym for their meetings so they’d feel safer with everything going on. it’s why elena still didn’t understand how that dark haired boy who’d tried to kiss her had gotten in the other day. 

blonde hair drifts in wind, a deep breath in and then out escaping elena’s pink lips as she lets her cousin lead her back toward the newer section of the cemetery (they’ll still have to pass the ruined church though). now thinking back on it, she hadn’t even been sure how she’d allowed herself to get so far into the old section. it wasn’t as if she had any desire to go there, her simply taking the short cut path to get to school quicker. even with everything that had transpired on the piece of land, she’d felt she would be safe as long as she remained on the path she’d been on and then she’d be able to visit her parents before school too. it’d been then the fog had drifted in causing a kind of unease to encase her and before she’d known it she’d stumbled onto the body among the tombstones of civil war soldiers. “am i okay? i’m not sure i know how to answer that.” had it been the sheriff who’s hand was on her shoulder or most anyone else that wasn’t a part of the royal ‘we’ or her family for that matter elena was sure she would have held firm, collecting herself and giving an automatic response of something befitting her as being ‘fine’. however, despite the fact john was a government agent there to investigate what was happening and that she hadn’t known him as well as aunt judith, he wasn’t just anyone and attempting to put up a facade just felt.. wrong when barring having bonnie or meredith, or stefan, or even matt there he was the closet person she had to her that could be of any useful support. “those marks on his neck.. was it-- it’s the same as on the other guy bonnie’s sister’s been taking care of at the hospital, isn’t it?” while she fears the answer, she already knows the answer deep within her. 

[xxlovendreamsxx]

yours, forevermore [5]

A/N: guess what @kuriquinn, this is still dedicated to you! ily girlie. 😘

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four

Sasuke visits Konoha’s burial grounds before the sun has even begun to rise that morning, tired of the constant tossing and turning in the bed of the Hokage suite. There had been no benefit to staying any longer, no rest or peace of mind to be found—so if sleep would not come, he was better off putting what time he had to good use.

(gods know he never has enough of it, these days.)

It had been too long since he last came to his family’s graves, anyway.

Sighing, Sasuke lightly touches his older brother’s headstone as he reaches the familiar site, closing his eyes. Miss you more than words can say, he thinks, as he always does. After a moment, he pulls away and kneels down at his parent’s graves, offering them both a singular flower; a white chrysanthemum for his father, and a white lily for his mother. He bows his head to offer a few silent prayers.

When he is done, Sasuke lets himself smile a little, soft, small, and somewhat sad. He shifts to sit down comfortably beside Itachi’s tombstone.

“I’m late, I know,” he says, breathing in the early morning air and setting his gaze on the orange-pinkish horizon. The sun is finally getting up. “Sorry, niisan. I guess I understand why you couldn’t always hold your promise.”

But he doesn’t go on, and he lets silence take over instead, watching as the sun continues to rise, starts to warm the air. Sasuke sighs, eyes dropping shut once more. A heaviness surrounds him, but it’s far from unpleasant, he finds. He lets himself believe that it’s because the spirits of his family have come, summoned by his stressed, frustrated heart to hold and support him in this too-complicated time.

Letting their comfort wash over, Sasuke feels the tension in him ease, dwindle. Gods, he wishes his mother would really be here. Wishes she could tell him what to do, what to say. He’s sure she would know.

(more than his father and brother would, anyway. he doubts either of them would be particularly more skilled in the matters of the heart—father had always been too busy trying to lead their clan to a better future, and itachi had always been too busy being the council’s tool of destruction.)

Pensive, Sasuke wonders what his family would say if they could see the situation he was in right now. Mother would probably bonk him over the head and call him a dense idiot, he muses with a smile. But then she’d also hug him, kiss his cheek, offer him some wise words of wisdom. The opposite of Father, whom of course, would disapprove entirely. And Itachi…

Itachi would undeniably march him to Sakura’s door, demand that he tell her everything—whatever the hour it was. There would be no excuses with him, no justifying how long it was taking to make things right. He would march him all the way to the hospital, to her parents’ house, or over the village borders, if he had to.

Itachi wouldn’t let him fuck this up anymore.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he hears someone say, then, causing him to stiffen rigidly.

Sasuke turns his head over his shoulder. His gaze narrows as he sees his old sensei carrying a small bouquet of flowers. “What are you doing here?”

Kakashi frowns. “It’s my father’s birthday. I think I’m allowed to visit his grave.”

“It’s early.”

“You’re not the only one who has trouble getting rest, Sasuke.”

Mulling his lips, Sasuke keeps his mouth shut, and turns back to the brightening sky ahead. He doesn’t have the energy to argue with his ex-teacher.

(because truth is, these days, it’s not so much that he has trouble sleeping—he just doesn’t seem to have the time. or maybe he just has trouble managing it.)

Behind him, Kakashi sighs. Sasuke hears him start walking towards him, and clenches his jaw. Can’t he just be alone?

“You should think about getting new guards.”

Sasuke blinks. “What?”

“Your ANBUs—the ones you’re obligated to have watch you around the clock. You should request for new ones—or at least find out which ones you can really trust.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

At this, Kakashi gives him a look. Sasuke doesn’t understand it, but it makes his heart sink with dread for a reason he can’t explain.

That is, until:

“I heard three of your ANBUs gossiping when I was heading out of my home earlier. Whispering to each other in the middle of the street how they were glad their shift was finally over because of the things that they had been awkwardly forced to witness in your office today.”

Sasuke tenses impossibly. Shit—he hadn’t even thought about that. Of course his guards would have to be bystanders to this whole damn mess. He feels the back of his neck heat up. Fucking hell.

(indeed, he is going to need new guards—ones that won’t breach the contracted rules of upholding privacy. he needs to find out who the culprits are.)

“Sasuke… you said this was going on because you hadn’t talked about it yet,” Kakashi goes on, then. He’s so quiet, so clearly deprecating, and it makes his blood boil. “How can you not have worked this out by now? It’s been five weeks—”

Angry from both the betrayal of his ANBUs and everyone’s persistent cursed nosiness, Sasuke cuts him off with a snarl. “And how many times do I have to say that it’s none of your fucking business? Stay out of it, Kakashi—this doesn’t concern you.”

Kakashi glares at him—something that catches Sasuke by surprise. He doesn’t usually lose his temper like this.

“It concerns me that you are tearing each other apart, Sasuke,” he says, his tone low but somehow still frighteningly chilling. “So stop being so goddamn stupid and talk to her already.”

And with that, he walks away, leaving Sasuke to swallow down any resentful retorts.

Sasuke digs his hands into the grass. It kills him to admit that though his ex-teacher is nosy and overstepping, he is also right.

No more screwing around.

.

.

“Ogino.”

“Yes, Hokage-sama?”

“Get me the names of the ANBUs who were on guard duty last night.”

“Right away, sir.”

.

.

He decides to let a week pass by before ultimately doing anything, allowing Sakura some space to cool off from their last encounter. Resolute as he is on finally repairing their complicated, splintered relationship, Sasuke doubts Sakura would like to hear anything he has to say when hours earlier, he’d thoughtlessly asked her to leave a job she loved.

(something that still makes him want to groan—it’s one of the dumbest things he’s ever done.)

But he doesn’t let that time go to waste; every day, he works tirelessly on filing papers and conducting meetings, eager to free his schedule to ensure he would have no pressing responsibilities holding him back. He sets himself on making a permanent change: he can’t take back what he’s done, but he can start making his own time for the people that he loves, and put an end to this toxic habit of sacrificing everything for a singular goal. Finding justice for his family is important, yes, but so is Sakura Haruno. He can find a balance, from now on. He can keep the village safe and happy, reform the system, bring respect to the Uchiha clan—and he can make a life with Sakura, be the good partner she deserves to have at her side.

And it all starts here, by finally granting himself the right not to comply to every request sent his way. And also, delegating.

“Hokage-sama?”

Eyes flickering up from the previously sealed mission report at his desk, Sasuke raises a brow when he sees his young, brown-haired second assistant peeking unsurely from his door.

(because yes, he had finally caved to hiring someone else, pride be damned. though almost annoyingly too meek, the woman really was unworldly good at her job—appointing her was the best decision he’d made all year.)

Sasuke gestures her inside. “What is it?”

“Um…” Looking down at the floor, she tucks a fallen lock of hair behind her ear, and Sasuke knows then that he isn’t going to like what she will say. “The council is waiting outside your office. They’re requesting a meeting now—”

“Fuck no,” Sasuke immediately replies, interrupting her as his eyes narrow. He huffs an irritated breath, and returns to the classified scroll at hand. “Send them away,” he says. “And tell them to call and schedule a meeting like everyone else. I have other plans today, and I aim to keep them.”

“B-But sir, I don’t think—”

“I don’t care, Uzume. They’re not the ones who have to bury themselves in work on a daily basis, nor are they the ones who make the final decisions around here. I am the Hokage—they are merely my advisors. They will work with my schedule. Tell them they will wait until a suitable time, or I will have them escorted out of this office.”

Wide-eyed, his assistant blushes—more out of nervousness than embarrassment, he suspects—and then nods jerkily. She gives him a quick, polite bow. “Ah—of course, Hokage-sama,” she stutters, quickly stepping towards the filing cabinet. She drops a massive pile of completed forms on top. “Um, please excuse me.”

Then she disappears from his office to deliver the news, seemingly uncomfortable. Sasuke thinks it’s probably because she fears disrespecting the elders.

He goes back to work, and ignores the ensuing muffled conversation behind the door.

(although, he will admit, he feels oddly pleased as the voices start to grow in volume, exclamations of irritation and contempt becoming more and more distinct. that will teach them.)

Sasuke only pauses again when someone tries to enter anyway; the door jiggles for half a moment before, judging by the light rustling and surrendering cries, the perpetrator is seemingly stopped.

“All right, all right!” a man snaps, sounding suspiciously like Homura. His tone is dripping with sharp irritation. “There is no need to get physical—we will take our leave without you. Uncultured brats… Come, Council, we will come back another time when our leader isn’t in such a foul mood.”

Try when you have an actual appointment, Sasuke thinks, rolling his eyes.

It’s a few minutes before his assistant comes back inside, looking rather stunned. Sasuke spares her only a flickering glance, still contemplating the report.

“The guards did their job, I take it?”

Uzume’s eyes are still wide. “Uh… yes, Hokage-sama.”

He gives her a small, pleased nod. “Make sure to let them know I want no more interruptions. I intend to leave in an hour.”

She nods, too, and bows again. “Okay—um, I mean, right away, Hokage-sama. I’ll… I’ll be back later to file those papers as well.”

Sasuke hums, and the sound of her clicking heels resound across his office. He stops his assistant only when he hears her click open the door. “Uzume.”

“Y-Yes?”

He nearly sighs. “Good work today.”

Her voice reveals an undeniable smile. “Thank you, Hokage-sama.”

No, it’s you I should thank, Sasuke thinks. For cutting down my work and giving me time to get my life together.

Today is the day.

.

.

An hour later, when he gathering his things, he sends his hawk Takauji with a scroll for Sakura.

Sakura,

Meet me at my apartment in two hours.

We need to see each other. It’s important.

I know you don’t have a shift at the hospital.

Sasuke

.

.

Sakura arrives at his door twenty minutes early, turning the grim expression on his face to one of genuine surprise; he expected her to be late, if anything. Sasuke’s mouth parts, but he closes it quickly, resting his towel on his shoulder. He’d just gotten out of the shower a short while ago.

“Hi,” she says, softly, looking strangely fragile despite still being so lovely. There is a weakness to her gaze that he doesn’t like.

His heart squeezes, and Sasuke swallows. They really are tearing each other apart like this, he muses. Sakura is so much stronger than that.

(but no longer—he will break her no longer.

…or soon, anyway.)

Exhaling a slow, quiet breath, Sasuke lets the tension in him leave. He gives Sakura a nod. “You’re early,” he says. “I didn’t expect you to be early.” There is no displeasure to his tone. Only relief.

Sakura blushes faintly. “I know,” she mumbles, as she looks down at her feet. She seems almost flustered—or even conflicted. Sasuke hasn’t seen her this insecure since she was a young teenager. He hates how much he’s making her pedal backwards. “I just…”

He doesn’t need to hear more. Stepping aside, Sasuke opens the door wider; a silent invitation. Looking up, Sakura blinks at him, swallows, then acquiesces to his offer.

He doesn’t expect her to push him back a few steps and kiss him as soon as she crosses the threshold, one hand tossing his towel away while the other fists his shirt, foot driving the door shut. Sasuke’s breath snags in his lungs, body growing tight. Half a moment later, he finds himself melting against her, utterly overtaken; he draws her close, kisses her back, curling his fingers into her clothes. Her kisses are both hot and wanton as they are sweet and full of yearning, and it makes his head spin.

But then Sakura tugs at his shirt, pulling at the hem like she needs it off, and Sasuke frowns. His thoughts come rushing back to him. No… no, he can’t let this happen again. Not before they talk things out, put everything out in the open—no matter how much she sends his whole body buzzing.

His hands close around her wrists.

“Sakura,” he whispers against her lips, trying to gently tug her away. He hates how much his body screams to get her back, needing her warmth, her closeness. “Sakura, stop. We can’t. This isn’t why I wanted you to come here.”

“It’s okay,” she says, breathless, pulling him close. She kisses him once more, reaching under his shirt to caress his skin. Sasuke tenses, a groan nearly slipping out of him. “It’s okay. I want this too, Sasuke-kun. There’s nothing wrong with this—”

“Sakura—”

“It’s all right.” One of her hands falls to his belly, tracing the faint ridges there. His mind is starting to fog again. Damnit. “Please, Sasuke-kun. I—I need this. You need this.”

“Sakura, this isn’t—”

“Shh,” she hushes, catching his mouth with hers and kissing him deeper. “We don’t need to talk about it. We can keep doing this. We don’t have to stop. Please.”

The hand on his stomach slides beneath the hem of his pants, so close to where he wants her. Sasuke almost chokes, feeling himself spiral. Sharply, he pulls back, deftly slipping away from her too-wonderful fingers. Breaths heavy and choppy, he swallows against his suddenly dry throat, body burning everywhere. Holy shit that was close.

Hurt splinters across Sakura’s face, a few seconds later. The sight keeps him anchored, reminds them why they’re here. Sasuke sighs quietly.

“We do need to talk, Sakura,” he murmurs. “Everything about this is fucked up. All those weeks ago, when we—” He pauses here, and mulls his lips. He looks down. He still doesn’t know how to explain that day. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. Things got out of hand. I never meant—”

A wounded noise cuts him off, and Sasuke flinches, eyes settling on Sakura again. He finds her face all scrunched up, mouth twisted as though she wants to cry. She curls a hand protectively over her chest.

“Stop. Please stop, Sasuke-kun,” she pleads, and her voice wavers, cracks. There are tears glimmering now. “I’m begging you—I can’t hear this. I can’t. My heart can’t take this.”

His throat grows tight. Gods, how he wishes he would stop making her cry. Wishes he would stop breaking her heart, wishes he could wrap his arms around her right now and kiss away all her pain. But he can’t. He really can’t. He needs to keep trying, to finally explain to her how he wants so much more than this—how he wants everything, and not just that warm space between her legs.

Sasuke touches her arm gently. “Sakura, listen…”

But Sakura doesn’t want to hear it.

“No!” she wails. She wrenches herself away so fast his heart skips a painful beat. “I’m done doing this with you, Sasuke-kun! I’m done getting pulled in every direction and getting my hopes up, only for you to tear them down! Done being the only one hurt every time you fleetingly grow some kind of conscience!” She’s trembling now, thick tears spilling down her angry cheeks as she seemingly struggles not to burst into loud, miserable sobs. “I’ve loved you for over ten years now, Sasuke-kun. Ten years. And I am tired of getting my heart broken because you can’t get yourself together…

“I don’t want to wait for the impossible anymore. I don’t want to keep hoping you might realize that you want me by your side, or that you might want a life with me. It hurts too much, Sasuke-kun. I’ve already let myself believe it once, when you kissed me all those years ago, but then—then you treated us like we were nothing and I—” A sob escapes her, then, soft and broken and unbearably hard to hear. It takes everything in Sasuke not to look away from her. “When you kissed me again all those weeks ago, I was the closest to you than I’ve been in years, Sasuke-kun… I felt like I finally mattered to you—like I knew I did, once. Even if it was just for this.” Her lower lip trembles. “But now you want to take even that away from me…”

Sakura trails out, and cries even harder, then, so hard she gasps in every breath. Sasuke’s jaw grows rigid at the sight; he doesn’t want to stand here and do nothing anymore.

So with an aching heart clenching so terribly, terribly with every beat, Sasuke cups the face of the woman he loves and gingerly wipes her tears away, careful. Sakura shakes her head with vehemence, pushing weakly at his chest to try and drive him away—but all in vain. She crumbles against his touch, defeated and helpless. She is just as starved for his love as he is for hers, he realizes with downturn of his mouth.

(it’s no wonder she doesn’t want him to take away what they have when she no longer thinks they will ever have anything more.)

Pressing his forehead to her own, Sasuke gathers all the tenderness he can find and kisses her slowly, sweetly, holding her soft, precious face in his hands. He brushes his thumb to her skin as she stills, breath hitching, more tears slipping down her cheeks. He smooths them off, and kisses her once more, just as gently, cradling her trembling body in a warm embrace. Half a sob tumbles from her lips, but she kisses him back, burying her fingers in his hair in desperation.

Maybe he can show her how he feels instead, Sasuke thinks, as he lets her take off his shirt and starts guiding her towards his bedroom. Maybe if he makes love to her with all the devotion and care in his heart, she’ll understand everything.

At least, this is what he tells himself as he lets them tug off each other clothes as they go, lips never parting even as they lightly bump and knock into walls and counters. This is what he tells himself as he kisses her, touches her, keeping himself loving and patient, determined not to let lust take over. Sakura whimpers and holds him closer, hiccupping breaths fading into moans and hot little gasps.

They’re both naked by the time they reach his bed, tumbling onto the soft mattress in the darkness of the room. Dazed, needing to see her, Sasuke reaches to turn on his bedside lamp, cursing when he inadvertently knocks their old team seven frame to the floor. The sound of Sakura laughing startles him, so much that when he turns back to look at her, he can’t help his mind from going back to that time all those weeks ago, where he’d been alone in bed and craving to have her at his side.

And now she was here; naked, smiling, and utterly beautiful, with her sweet, sweet green eyes gleaming at him so brightly. Sasuke’s mouth dries, and raw emotion wells up at him, so thickly he feels nothing short of overwhelmed. He cups her cheek and kisses her with aching gentleness, eyes slipping shut tight.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, earnest as he’s ever been.

He feels the smile drop from Sakura’s mouth, lips trembling against his. Sasuke swears he can feel the hurt flaring to life again in her heart, but he refuses to budge as she pushes at him to try and run away.

“Don’t, don’t—Sasuke-kun, don’t do this—”

She starts to cry again and pushes him harder, but Sasuke holds onto her tighter and grits his teeth, brushing his thumb to her cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Sakura—”

“Just let me leave,” she sobs, struggling against him. “Let me leave, let me leave, I can’t do this, just let me leave—”

“Damnit, Sakura, I love you!” Sasuke says, then, frustration getting to him as it comes out sounding sharp and much more forceful than he’d hoped.

(but he’d said it. at least he’d finally fucking said it.)

Sakura’s breath catches, and she stiffens beneath him. “W-What?”

Sasuke softens. “I love you. Sakura, I’ve always loved you. Since five years ago, since before even that. I never meant to hurt you the way that I did—I never meant to get so caught up in my goals that I never put you, or Naruto or Kakashi first. I threw away what we had without even realizing it because I was so focused on the responsibilities I had trying to get justice for my clan. And I wish I realized that sooner. I really fucking do. I wish I’d known how to solve everything, but I had no idea what to do. Especially not after we…” He swallows, and moves his hand to her jaw, then, stroking so devotedly. “Nothing about this has ever been just sex to me, Sakura. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I want more. I’ve always wanted more. I want… you.” All of you. By my side. So stay, please. Stay, and I’ll never make those mistakes again. I promise.

For a moment, Sakura says nothing; she merely keeps crying, unable to stop. Yet there is a lightness to her now, a missing heaviness to the way she wipes her tears and sniffles and hiccups, and it makes the tension in him melt away.

“Y-You love me?” she asks, eventually, her voice so feeble.

But Sasuke catches it, that certain hope and fullness that makes him want to smile. He pushes his forehead to her own, running his thump over her cheek. “I do,” he whispers.

Making some noise of relief, Sakura pulls him close and hugs him tight, burying her face in his neck. Closing his eyes, Sasuke breathes in her scent and pulls her closer, finally feeling relaxed and content—like he hasn’t been able to in much too long. His heart swells in his chest when Sakura runs her hands through his hair, whispering how much she loves him, how much she’s sorry she didn’t listen to him when he was trying to make things right. Brushing his lips to her brow, Sasuke pulls back and kisses her, kissing her again, and again, and again.

He makes love to her when she asks him to, a while later, and it’s slow, and good, and wonderful. Better than any of their times before. He feels full, complete, even moreso when he knows she does, too. There is nowhere else he wants to be—he would spend forever making love to her if he could. When Sakura gets close, she whispers to him to tell her again that he loves her, so he does, once, twice, and three times more. He kisses her when she comes soon after, holding him close and whimpering his name. Sasuke swears she’s never looked more beautiful.

They stay wrapped up in each other when they’re sated and spent, whispering conversation in the dim, moonlit room. Sasuke pulls the sheets over them when Sakura shivers a little from the cold, her giggle curling the edges of his mouth. She thanks him, and kisses him like they have all the time in the world, like there is nothing they can’t face together… and he supposes that as of tonight, that is probably true.

For the rest of his life, he will make time to kiss and love Sakura like she deserves, like she wants.

For the rest of his life, he will make sure she never doubts the place she holds in his heart.

Sleep takes them within minutes, and it’s the easiest he’s had in years.

.

.

Sakura comes to find him at lunch the next day, carrying her usual stack of paperwork and two bento boxes, along with the prettiest, happiest blush. Sasuke feels his eyes brighten in an instant, lips curling in the faintest smile. He doesn’t think twice about abandoning his work for the time being.

“Hello, Sasuke-kun,” Sakura says, tucking her files to her chest. Grinning, she shows off the bento boxes. “I thought you might want to have lunch with me. I know I left in a bit of a hurry this morning… since you know, early surgery and all.”

Sasuke hums. “Hmm. Thank you,” he says, and he takes the bento boxes from her hand to put them aside on his desk. He surprises even himself when he tugs her onto his lap, next, fighting back another smile at her slight yelp. The glow from yesterday clearly still has yet to fade.

Sasuke slides a hand to her hip. He peers inside one of the bento boxes. “Onigri?”

Sakura smiles sheepishly. “Yes… I didn’t have much time when I got home. But I made your favorite kind!”

As if to prove she isn’t lying, she grabs a ball and peels a layer of rice back, revealing the flaky okaka filling. Amused, Sasuke grabs the onigri from her hand and takes a bite, chewing carefully.

“It’s good,” he offers, and Sakura smiles wider. She eats the bits on her hands, and croons with much satisfaction, happy with the fruits of her labor.

Sasuke shakes his head and smiles. “I’ll grab my stuff and we can leave.”

Beaming, Sakura pushes herself off his lap, allowing him to do just that.

It is at the moment that he stands up, however, that Shikamaru strolls in, sporting his usual look of exasperation and mouth opened to say something. He stills and chooses to refrain himself when he catches sight of them both, something of a frown forming.

Sasuke knows then that Shikamaru dreads what he is about to say. He narrows his eyes.

“What?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Shikamaru says. He points his thumb to the door. “But we have a meeting with the other Kages starting right now. It’s about the upcoming chunnin exams.”

Fuck. That’s right. Sasuke pinches the bridge of his nose. He forgot.

But as he exhales a sharp breath and goes to say that he’ll be there in a minute, his eyes briefly flicker to Sakura, sees her falter. That makes him stop.

(because this was how it all started, back then. brushing her aside time and time again, choosing to deal with matters that weren’t always that pressing, simply because he felt it was his duty.)

Sasuke’s gaze lightens, shoulders softening under the weight of yesterday’s memories. He knows what to do.

“Take Uzume with you and attend the meeting without me,” Sasuke says, taking off his Hokage robes and hanging them over his chair. He gives Sakura the ghost of a smile, and moves to rid her of her stack of files, sliding them onto his desk. “I’ll look over the notes tomorrow. I trust you’ll make the right decisions.”

The smile Sakura gives him in return is blinding, positively radiating with the brightest, most brilliant happiness. Sasuke feels his heart swell with pure, simple pride.

“You sure?”

Sasuke nods at his assistant. “I’m sure.” He picks up both bento boxes from his desk, and puts a hand at Sakura’s back to gently urge her forward. He spares her a tender glance. “I have lunch plans with Sakura.”

He’s learned his lesson.

.

.

.

End.

[lizzievelnias]

Self-Para bouncing between Edgar and Lizzie’s POV.  Long as hell so don’t feel obligated to read.  TLDR: Edgar found out Lizzie’s secret and she’s not happy about it.

It was well into the middle of the night but that made no difference to Edgar.  He enjoyed walking around Wildemount when everything was so quiet, so peaceful.  He decided to make a trip to the old cemetery, something he hadn’t done in a while.  Moving around the field of tombstones with practiced ease, the vampire stopped at one in particular towards the back of the plot.  ‘Victoria Wayne, Mother, Wife, Daughter. 18xx-18xx.’  The inscriptions were fading with time, but he knew them by heart.  He had spent hours tracing the letters over and over with his finger for years.  It was surreal, standing in front of his mother’s grave when she was very much alive now.

He stood there for a while, quietly contemplating all the changes in his life.  Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would be reunited with those so dear to him.  To have friends that knew who he was and didn’t think any less of him.  To have a spark of hope in his chest for a romantic connection with a man that was kind, funny, smart.  The century of loneliness was finally coming to an end.

Edgar was roused from his thoughts by a rustling sound not too far off.  Curious, he looked around, spotting a small girl dragging something heavy through the grass.  Perplexed, the vampire almost called out when the distinct scent of blood, fresh human blood, hit him in a wave.  At first he panicked, concerned that someone was hurt and the girl was trying to drag them to safety, but that thought was quickly disproven as she rounded the corner of a crypt.  The caretaker’s cabin was in the opposite direction, so what was she doing?  

Silently the vampire followed, ready to intervene if need be.  As he moved closer to the crypt he noticed the sound of a crackling fire.  Peering over the edge, Edgar watched in horror as the small girl struggled to shove a dead body into a fire pit.  The body was covered in blood, open wounds visible all along the torso and neck.  He needed to get someone, anyone.  

It was at that moment his phone started to ring.  Edgar fumbled with the device, trying to silence it, catching a glimpse of the caller ID.  It was Leo, probably wondering when he would be back from his walk.  Looking back up, he noticed with a sinking heart that the girl was gone.  A crack of a branch nearby shot a chill down the vampire’s back.  He needed to leave, now.  And so he takes off running, hindered only as he stumbles over a tombstone.  Unbeknownst to the vampire he had dropped his phone in the process.  

*~*~*~*

The cremation kiln was broken and the mechanic said he wasn’t going to come by til next week, lazy asshole.  So in the meantime, Lizzie had to get rid of their old toys the hard way.  She waited until the middle of the night, figuring that would be the safest time to dispose of the bodies.  She set a fire in one of the crypts and got to work dragging them one by one from the basement.  

She was completely oblivious to the man standing in the cemetery.  He was quiet the entire time and hardly moved at all, giving the witch no cause for alarm.  So she continued on with her work, huffing at the exertion of dragging a fully grown adult along the grass.  Taking a moment to catch her breath, Lizzie braced herself for the hardest part, lifting the body into the fire pit, when a phone ringing stopped her dead in her tracks.  She looked up to see a man fumbling with his phone.  Oh, he was so dead.  

While setting him on fire would be the easiest, Lizzie wanted to have a little fun.  She deserved that much after all the hard work she’d been putting in.  Slinking into the shadows, the witch slowly crept onto her victim, only to be thwarted by a tree branch cracking under her foot.  She pouted and huffed in anounce as the man took off running.  Now she was gonna have to chase him down.  Unfortunately Lizzie was no match for vampiric speed and agility and the stranger was well out of her sight before long.

“Fuuuuuuck,” she grumbled to herself.  Chiara was going to be so pissed.  The witch threw her head back to let out a groan of frustration.  Bringing her head back to a level position, she noticed something bright amidst the darkness of the cemetery.  Moving closer, a dark smile graced her lips as she picked up the forgotten phone.  The screen was lit up, giving a notification of a voice message.  The background was a selfie of the man and some dark haired woman.  Maybe Chiara didn’t need to find out about this, as long as Lizzie could deal with it herself.

*~*~*~*

The first thing Edgar wanted to do was go to the police, but all he had was a physical description of the girl.  He had no idea who she was.  Even then, would they believe him?  Man goes walking through a cemetery at three in the morning, he’s bound to imagine things going bump in the night.  Still, the vampire needed to talk to someone, anyone.  He decided he’d confide in his mother first.  Of course Leo and Leyla were also viable options, both of whom he valued their opinions greatly, but there was something particularly comforting about reaching out to his mother at this moment.  

Reaching into his pocket, the vampire realized with a cold dread that his phone was gone.  Fuck.

*~*~*~*

First sign of daybreak Lizzie was out on the streets, stopping anyone she could to ask them about the man in the picture.  “Do you know this guy?  I think he dropped his phone.”  The stupid thing was locked, so she couldn’t get any more info other than what the guy looked like.  She hit her luck on the fourth person she asked.  “Yeah, that’s Professor Wayne, over at the Uni.  He teaches English.  He should be in later today.”  A grin formed on her lips as she thanked the stranger.  Perfect.

Wasting no time at all, Lizzie grabbed a few supplies and headed to the university.  The doors were still locked, but that didn’t matter.  A rock through the window was an easy enough solution.  It took her awhile to find this guy’s office.  She had no idea where anything was in this fucking place, and it was massive.  The witch wandered aimlessly, carrying her supplies with absolute glee.  Oh man, she wished she could see his reaction later.  

Finally finding the right room, Lizzie touched the door knob, using her fire to melt away the metal.   The door silently swings open, the grin never leaving the witch’s lips. 

*~*~*~*

Edgar doesn’t understand why everyone’s staring at him as he walks down the halls, whispering as their eyes seem to follow his every movements.  It’s unsettling to say the least.  Rounding the corner it all becomes clear.  He hadn’t noticed the fire engine and cop cars coming into work, his mind hyper focused on the night previous.  

His office was nothing but a charred remain.  According to the officer on standby they were lucky to get to it as soon as they did, otherwise it could have easily spread to other rooms.  On the door remained a message written in blood.  “We know who you are.”  His phone laid on the floor just outside his office, a bloody heart drawn on the screen.  

[emmabodt]

Ymir

Ymir nervously dragged her teeth over her bottom lip, watching as the first rays of sun filtered through the window. Today was the day. And she was terrified.

Some lady was going to stick a needle into her spine, and hopefully pull out a Titan without killing her. A very tall order by any and all standards. 

Ymir crossed her arms with a huff, drumming her fingers restlessly on her freckled arm. She hated feeling anxious, scared, and helpless. Vulnerable. Vulnerability means anyone can touch you. The only person Ymir wanted anywhere near her was Krista, not some lady who had her life in the balance. Why did she agree to this stupidity again? Because she didn't want to be eaten.

Knock Knock Knock.

Ymir sat up just as the door to her room creaked open to reveal the black haired girl that was always hanging around the Porky guy. She gave the freckled girl one of her trademark lazy smiles.

"Good morning."

Ymir cocked an eyebrow at her." Morning. You here for a reason?"

Pieck nodded." Mhm. The extraction is in 45 minutes. I thought I should come tell you."

Ymir sighed and swung her legs out of bed." Great.... Early morning for me..."

Pieck yawned and sat in a nearby chair." Early bird gets the worm."

Ymir raised her eyebrow a little more." You need anything else?..."

Pieck shook her head with another yawn." No...just want to get to know you a little more. I've been the only girl here since Annie left, so I've missed having talks with people who...get what it's like to be a girl."

Ymir smirked and stood up, heading for the closet full of clothes that the government had generously given her." So...you wanna talk girl talk, eh? Like the whole thing we women go through each month that scares every man?"

Pieck chuckled." That, and other things. Like... Well...girl talk. Annie didn't talk much, but when we did, it would either be about our families or about people in general. She had some interesting views about our world..."

The freckled girl shook her head as she changed out of her night shirt." Annie was an interesting person."

"She was, but she was also really sweet in her own way. Did you know I used to be afraid of the dark?"

Ymir hummed her no as she slid her day pants on.

"I was. When Annie found out, she took me out to the training gym and taught me some of her fighting techniques. Then she told me that since I could now drop anyone who approached me, I had no reason to fear the dark. And from then on, I haven't needed a lamp on when I slept."

Ymir leaned against her dresser, staring thoughtfully at her feet." I don't know much about Annie, other than her mean kicks and cold attitude. Back on the island, at the end of our three year training, Annie ranked fourth out of the top ten."

Pieck ran a finger through her dark locks." Annie was fourth? Who came before her?"

"Eh...Bertholdt was third, Reiner was second, and Mikasa first."

Pieck blinked, surprised." Reiner came in second?!"

"Yeah. Why is that so surprising?"

Pieck tilted her head a little." Back when we were candidates, Reiner was the least skilled out of all of us. As a matter of fact, the only reason he became a Warrior was because of his loyalty to Marley."

"Wait... So you mean if Reiner hadn't gotten the Armored Titan...then it would've been-"

"Me."

Both girls turned to look at Porco, who was standing in the door way with his usual scowl.

"And it should've been me. That little runt somehow managed to weasel it away from me..."

"Oh. Good Morning, Pock. I didn't see you there," said Pieck with a lazy smile. 

Porco rolled his eyes before looking at Ymir." Are you ready? We need to get going, or we'll be late."

Ymir huffed." Yeah, yeah, yeah, just let me get my shoes on."

After pulling on her shoes and pulling on her red armband, Ymir followed the Pieck and Porco out of the room.

"Hey, Porky."

Porco whipped his head around and glared at her." My name is Porco!"

Ymir snickered." My most sincere apologies, Porco." 

"What do you want?"

"I wanna know how this whole thing is gonna work."

Porco sighed and scratched the back of his head." Well, from what I know there's a needle that is pulling the Titan out of you, then putting it in me."

Ymir hummed." I see..."

Pieck turned her head and smiled at Ymir." So Ymir, what can you tell us about Paradis?"

"Paradis? Well... It's pretty nice. Fresh air, big ass trees, people. I'm sure you heard quite a bit from Bertl and Reiner."

Pieck shook her head." No, they don't like to talk about it. Every time I ask them, they just tell me  what they said in the report. They won't tell me any stories."

Ymir blinked, then bowed her head." Well... I guess they wouldn't want to talk about it, after what they went through."

"How bad is it there?" Porco asked as they entered the cafeteria.

"How bad is it?" Ymir asked, puzzled as they made their way to a table and sat down.

"Yeah. Like how terrible are those "people"?"" Porco asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Pieck leaned forward on her elbows, obviously wanting to hear Ymir's answer.

The freckled girl stared at the table for a moment before answering." What do you think of Krista and Eren?"

Porco blinked." What does that have to do with my question?"

"Just answer it, Porky."

Porco glared at her, but kept his peace." Eren...is normal, I guess. A little too hotheaded, but okay. As for the blonde short stack...well, she seems nice, but she and I haven't talked much. I guess she's normal, too."

Pieck nodded in agreement." Eren's pretty cool. I like him. And I'd like to get to know Krista a bit more. They both seem like nice people."

Ymir smirked." Well, Eren and Krista are both born and raised in the Walls. So I guess I could say that our comrades back there aren't too bad, right?"

Porco stared at Ymir, then at Pieck, then Ymir again.

"Huh?"

Pieck was cut of by the sound of a door opening. Ymir turned around in her seat to see a woman in her early twenties with long, dirty blonde hair and a warm smile.

"Oh, good! You guys are here! Good morning," she said when she approached the table. Then she turned to Ymir and held out her hand.

"I don't think we've met yet. I'm Sienna 8Alchuwitz, and I will be the one doing your extraction."

Ymir took her hand with a smirk." I'm Ymir, just Ymir, and I'm the one you'll be sticking a needle into today."

Sienna chuckled." I like your attitude, just Ymir. You and I are going to be great friends."

Porco cleared his throat." So...you going to stand and talk for an hour, or are we going to do this extraction thing?"

Ymir raised a brow at him while Sienna giggled." My, my, what an impatient boy we have. Shall we go so we won't upset him?"

Ymir huffed." I don't really care,so sure."

"Then let us be on our way."

Porco stood up and stuck his hands in his pockets, scowling. Pieck stood up to follow him, but Sienna gestured for her to stay put.

"I'm sorry, Pieck, but I'm afraid you can't come with us."

Porco rounded on the scientist." Wait, what!? Why can't she come with us?"

"Rules are rules. No unauthorized personnel in the lab," Sienna said apologetically. Porco huffed. 

Pieck shrugged." Oh. Okay. See you later then, Pock."

"...Yeah, see ya." Porco and Pieck stared at each other before he turned and headed for the door.

"You guys coming? I have a Titan to inherit."

.............................................................................................................

"Hello again, Miss Alchuwitz! And hello, Porco! And... Er... Hello, miss!"

Porco, Sienna, and Ymir where standing just outside the gates of Liberio, waiting patiently as one of the guards bustled over to them.

Meriadoc tipped his hat in greeting at the trio before taking a quick look over Porco and Sienna's passes.

"Alright, you two are going to the research center. Where is this young lady going?" he asked, gesturing at Ymir, who was fiddling with the hem of her shirt. It had been a really long time since she had last seen these walls.

"She's coming with us, sir," said Sienna, giving him a small smile.

Meriadoc scratched his head." Does she have her papers?"

Sienna shook her head." No, sir, she doesn't. She's a special case. Ymir here agreed to do an experiment with me, so she doesn't have any papers."

The guard stared at Ymir for a moment before shrugging." Okay. I'll let you three in, just give me a sec," he said before turning his head towards a small building.

"Peregrine! Unlock the gate!" he yelled. Peregrine stuck his head out the door.

"What was that?"

Meriadoc pointed at the trio. Peregrine silently said "oh"and disappeared into the building again. A second later, there was a loud buzz  followed by a sharp click, and the gate swung open.

"Thank you, gentlemen! See you in a bit!" Sienna called, walking through the gate. Porco nodded at Ymir to follow. As soon as they walked through the gate, it shut with a clang.

"Welcome to Liberio," Porco said blankly. Ymir shot him a look.

"I used to live here, jackass."

"Right. How long ago was that?" Sienna asked, slowing down to walk beside Ymir.

The freckled girl shrugged." Oh, about sixty years ago."

Sienna nodded, then looked over at Porco with a grin.

"You really should respect your elders, Porco."

"Shut up," Porco growled.

Sienna continued to  lead the two of them through the streets of Liberio, past the market square into the outskirts of the town.

Ymir couldn't help but look around at her surroundings in awe. Her hometown head changed so much, she didn't even recognize it. The street's she slept on were cobblestone instead of dirt, the buildings were made of brick instead of wood... It was all so different.

After a half an hour of walking, Porco huffed and crossed his arms.

"How much farther do we have to go?"

"Not much farther. Just to Anhohe Tot." Sienna replied. Provo visibly blanched.

"We're going to the cemetery?!"

"Mhm. There is a lot more than dead people there, Galliard."

Porco shuddered, and Ymir tried to rub away the goosebumps on her arms. The thought of going to a graveyard was definitely chilling.

A few minutes later, a hill dotted with tombstones came into view. Before it all was a big black gate.

Sienna walked up to the gate and opened it, ushering Ymir and Porco through it.

"Look, I know it's weird to have a lab in a place full of dead, but the creators of this lab built it here so.." Sienna drifted off.

"So?" Ymir prompted.

"So that the lab isn't found by the wrong people, Sienna finished with a shrug." Some  people would kill to have this kind of knowledge."

Silence fell as Sienna led them through the graveyard. 

Ymir began to read the tombstones to herself as she passed them; one said Jane Kierven, another said Samuel Curtis. All of the tombstones had the star of the Eldians at the top.

"To be clear, this isn't any normal cemetery," said Sienna, breaking the silence." These are the markers for all of the Eldians who received the honour of becoming one of the Nine Titans." 

Ymir cocked one eyebrow." Will I be buried here if I die?"

Sienna tilted her head slightly, thinking." I don't see why not. You carry the Jaw Titan, so that makes you an a predecessor to Porco. However, I do not want to see you in the ground anytime soon."

Sienna smiled warmly over her shoulder at Ymir, who shrugged.

"You seem to know what you're doing, so I believe I'm in good hands."

"Ok, enough with this mushy morbid bullshit. Where is the lab? My feet hurt," Porco whined.

Sienna chuckled as Ymir huffed." Technically, we're walking on it."

"Huh?"

"The lab is underground. When we get to the top of this hill, there will be a huge tomb. In the tomb is the door that leads to the lab."

Ymir yawned." Wow. It's so secret you can't even see it. Nobody would look for a lab in a place of the dead."

"Exactly."

A few minutes later, the trio strolled up the hill to see a massive tomb the size of a small house with a thick wood door bearing down on them. It was a dark, somber grey, and was covered in carved Eldian stars and what Ymir assumed were the Nine Titans. 

"This is it. Come on in." Sienna opened the heavy looking door with a heave, and held it open for Ymir and Porco.

Inside the tomb was a long, oblong stone table in the center of the small room. Allowing the wall were stone shelves carved out of the walls themselves, and they were littered with fresh and dying flowers.

"This is the memorial for the first Warriors of Marley," said Sienna after she shut the door." Harold Cargerman, George Elcott, Faye Smithson, Erik Gardner, Thomas Scultz, and Richard Tindle were officially selected for the Titan powers after Marley reclaimed them from Eldia."

Ymir leaned up against the table." That kinda explains the flowers. Paying respect to the first Honourable Marleyans seems like something people here would do."

"Mhm. Now, can you two look away for a minute? I'm going to open the door."

Ymir and Porco obeyed,turning and facing the corner while Sienna scrambled around, looking for the door. A few minutes later, there was a click, followed by the infamous sound of a door creaking open.

"Alright, you can look now,"said Sienna, waving them over.

This is part one of Ymir! Tumblr wouldn't let me paste the rest!

[the-shadow-of-atlantis]

Truth in Blood

Summary: Annabella discovers the truth

Tagging: @lizartgurl @thespacebuns @melyaliz @coffee-randomness @gobydana @speedypan

Part 1 Here

Smack! Annabella groaned from the impact, feeling her body pressed against a cold hard floor that was definitely not her bedroom floor. Quickly getting up she looked around the place.

The floor was made of hard smooth wood with carvings etched into it, making it resemble the calendar on the box. Around the edges of the circle were aisles with shelves that stretched out like spokes on a wheel filled with thousands of books. Within the circle were several wooden tables all bare and a bit dusty. At the edge witching the circle boundaries was a small podium with a slab of rock perched on top of it.

A slight chill ran through her as she took a few cautious steps. The place almost felt alive and that was a bit unsettling.

“Hello?” She finally called out as she reached the small podium.

The letters in the rock shifted themselves from whatever language they were in to English.

Level 1 Library

Level 2 Potions

Level 3 Crystals

Level 4 Practice Room

Frowning Annabella looked up and noticed a orden ring above where the circle fit perfectly.

“Hello? Can anyone hear me?” Annabella tried again as she looked around.

“Of course I can hear you cariño, I’ll always be here for you.”

Annabella jumped and crashed into the podium that tipped over and made the slab crack, however it simply repaired itself. She felt the blood rush from her face, she knew that voice.

“Abuelita?” She breathed out as she tried to understand what was happening. “What… what is this? What’s going on?”

“Four years ago I told you that when the time was right this box would give you the answers you seek, that time has finally come.”

Annabella looked down trying to process what was happening. Her hands trembled though she was not sure if it was from shock or anger.

“You died four years ago. How am I hearing your voice? What is this place?”

“Perhaps it would be easier to show you. Level 4 please.”

The room rumbled and shifted, slowly the platform began to rise. She managed to catch glimpses of the other levels which looked similar to the first level just with different objects. However the last room was completely dark.

Light flooded the room making Annabella cover her eyes. When she opened them she found herself in the middle of an ancient village a small group group group of people huddled together watching someone shifting smoke from a dark round stone.

“You come from a long line of sorcerers and sorceresses dating back to ancient times.”

The scene shifted and she saw a small group of people go through what seemed like a maze.

“When a new generation is born a trial is held to determine who will continue the bloodline. I was the one who won the trial for my generation.”

Annabella was suddenly face to face with a young version of her grandmother.

“Everyone gets to choose what they want to do with their magic. Many choose to stay and continue their studies, I chose to help people so I moved to the streets and became a nurse in the army. I thought I was doing a good job hiding my powers.”

She saw her grandmother tending to wounded soldiers but could see a very faint glow when she would apply the bandage. She watched as her grandmother moved to a back room to clean herself up.

“Miss Robles?”

Annabella turned around and her eyes widened as she took in the costume of the man and his owl perched on his shoulder.

“Wait that’s… that’s Dr. Midnight.”

“Yes he recruited me for the JSA, he’s also your grandfather.”

“What?” Annabella looked around frantically. “That’s impossible, I’ve gone through all the JSA records. You’re not in any of them. And there’s no record of Dr. Midnight ever getting married.”

She tried to remember the file photos, tried to remember the pictures her grandmother showed her of her grandfather. She tried to make sense of it all, tried to piece the puzzle together but there was pieces missing.

“Your father must have changed that.” Her grandmother grumbled.

“Why?!” Annabella shouted. “Why would he keep that from me?!.. why would you?”

“Because of what happened afterwards.”

The scene shifted and Annabella was standing face to face with her grandmother along with her grandfather but this time she was holding a baby in her arms.

“We went back to my home town after the war, settled down, started a family. We were happy your grandfather became a local doctor and I helped. Your mother was our first born she was a bit of a wild child but we loved her. She had developed her magic by the time she was four but could be a bit unpredictable with it. We tried our best to help her, I tried my best to teach her about her magic. But I’ll admit I got a bit sidetracked when we had your uncle. Acting became her outlet, and we encouraged it, she loved it and it helped her.”

Annabella saw as her mother began to grow, she saw as she got ready for auditions, and how she would practice her magic.

“But then she began to grow ambitious, wanting roles but using her magic to get them. I tried to stop her but she just wouldn't listen, at least not until our youngest was born.”

She saw her mother around 10 holding a little baby in her arms with a smile.

“She would do just about anything for him, but he was so well developed for his age. His magic was so advanced I had never seen anything quite like it. I think your mother saw that too, and I don't know if she got scared or jealous but she began to draw away from us again. Getting into her acting but also doing things she shouldn't have with her magic. We tried to stop her but she had gone in too deep.”

“What did she do?” Annabella asked feeling her legs tremble a tug of a bad memory wanting to pull through but she couldn’t remember what.

“She made deals with bad people but never honored them. The last deal she made was with someone who didn’t tolerate loopholes. They came looking to get even, my son and husband died in the process. She blamed me for not trying hard enough to save them, especially her brother. She resented me ever since.”

Annabella was suddenly staring down at two tombstones.

“Afterwards the trial had been done and she won. Once she got the claim she left and I never saw her. Occasionally she'd still make appearances in shows or movies but I never once heard from her. Not until she was pregnant with you.”

“Me?” Annabella heard her grandmother sigh.

“She met your father during an event and put him into a trance to spend a night with her. However she underestimated the power of the trance and she had you.”

Annabella saw her mother on a couch a smug look on her face.

“What do you mean you are pregnant?” Her grandmother asked.

“I used a trance on Bruce Wayne but now I’m pregnant with his child.”

“And what are you going to do with the child?”

“I’m not sure yet. There’s so many possibilities with a new born child.”

“You’re going to give it up?” Her grandmother nearly shouted.

“To the right person. For the right price.”

“You know I will not condone this.”

“I just need help until I give birth to it.”

“The father has a right to know.”

“Please he’s not going to want it.”

“You do not know that.”

“I contacted your father soon after that. Your mother was mad since he made it clear he was going to take you with him. So she… tried to get rid of you. She figured if she couldn’t use you then no one could have you.”

Annabella say her grandmother rushing her mother to a hospital.

“I was not going to let  another life be taken for her mistakes so I made a deal.”

She saw her grandmother standing in the woods drawing a circle with different symbols. She saw a shadow begin to form in the center.

“I spoke to our god pleaded with him to save you. Sacrificed jaguar blood in his honor. He accepted he didn’t like how your mother was tainting his name and so he stripped her of her magic and gave it straight to you along with other gifts to help you survive.”

“My powers.” Annabella whispered.

“Exactly, though he was not able to save most of you, hence the reason for your slight asthma. But he gave you strength to survive, to grow, to evolve. Under one condition i could not tell you of your magic until you were ready. I accepted, when I went back in to see how you were doing your father had confirmed who I was before and who your grandfather was. I told him everything about what had happened and what led to that moment. We made another deal that you would live with him until you were five and then I'd be allowed to visit you. We wanted to keep you away from your mother.”

“Why? Why keep my magic away? Why not tell me the truth about her?”

“Your mother wanted your blood. She wanted to use you for her own gain. We didn’t want her anywhere near you for fear of what she’d do. Don’t you remarried what she did when you were 7?”

“You mean she kidnapped me?”

Annabella tried to remember but that memory was always faulty. She could only remember glimpse of it. She remembered the drive she remembered escaping and being shot at… no wait, bullets don’t explode in green when they hit the ground. She remembered being hit by something, something that stung but she wasn’t completely unconscious. Then she remembered, the chanting, the cut of the knife she got on her chest, how she felt herself getting weak.

“What… what did she do to me?”

“She tried to take your life force away so she could bring back her brother.”

“But why wipe my memory of that? Why… why not just tell me the truth?”

“We didn’t want to risk your mother hurting you again.”

Suddenly more memories came rushing back. The time Constantine babysat her and she held a globe that glowed in her hands. Her memories of when she went with the team to check on Kent Nealson and she got separated from the team.

“What about the other times?” Annabella asked.

“What other times?”

“The other times where I almost discovered my magic? The other times my memories have been erased.”

“There have been other times?”

“You… you didn’t know?”

“No… I told your father I was under oath I could not tell you the truth and that we had to be careful. I never knew there were other times.”

Annabella’s head swirled with the information dump she just got. She had magic, she's had magic this whole time but she never knew because it was kept from her. The whole reason her mother wanted her dead was because she wanted it back. Her father went so far as to wipe her memories if she'd even get they slightest hint that she would discover her magic.

She couldn’t breath. She couldn’t think. He lied when she tried to look for the truth. All those times he lied. He lied.

“Let me out.” Annabella said.

“Anna-“

“Let me out!” She shouted.

She felt a rush and found herself back in her room. She tried to get up but she couldn’t. He was breathing hard and the room was spinning.

“Miss Annabella!” She faintly registered Alfred coming in.

She felt the cool sensation of her inhaler pressed to her lips and she took a deep breath.

“Breath Miss Annabella, just breath.” He urged.

“Did you know?” She asked when she caught her breath.

“I’m sorry?”

“Did you know?” She asked a little louder. “Did you know what I really am?”

Alfred gave her a sad look and she knew. Scoffing she got up gripping the side of her bed.

“Miss what are doing? You should rest.”

“No, I’m going to talk to my father.” She snapped as she stomped out of the room.

[mag7dumbies]

Magnificent Seven Series (1998) Pilot major spoilers

So I finally finished watching the Pilot and good lord I had thoughts, and no this is not the first time I’ve watched this episode, I’m just that extra when I watch TV 

(Here we go yet again folks strap in)

(I have mentioned I hate the confederates- garbage humans the lot)

(Also giving birth is better in a squatting position- or at least that’s what I’ve heard)

(Seminoles are actually a very interesting tribe to read about)

“I respect no man’s law but my own” well fuck you too racist bastard (not only that but you need to get a fucking haircut and someone to repair that ratty flag of yours or better yet burn it)

I hate that he is so right cause we still have nut jobs in the south who are in denial that we won the war 

The movie was so much nicer goodness (I mean violence wise it wasn’t as insane as this is)

I hate that the general is not completely bad (he isn’t close to good but he still has morals, which is hard to believe considering what he believes)

(The general is nuttier than an oak tree)

OKAY HOW DARE YOU, I’M NEARLY A TRILLION PERCENT SURE THAT SAND IS SACRED AND YOU JUST FUCKING CHUCK IT WHO RAISED YOU

AND YOU PUT THAT MASK WHERE YOU FOUND IT GODDAMN IT

“I believe I can turn gold into bullets” (what does that even mean)

(Didn’t realize that this whole episode was a week’s worth of stuff huh)

(I love that they included freed slaves just makes me happy)

Lordy boardy here we go

Chris this is not the time for a drink

The duster flaps in the wind- okay we get it Chris is a badass- he was drinking glass, earlier we know

The Marshall is a coward (this reminds me of a fantastic fic I once found that had the Marshall return and Nathan was understandably pissed it was awesome)

He’s wearing an apron- oh Vin you have fallen so far, (I’m glad he has long hair though, in the movie it was pretty short which didn’t really fit cause you know Vin isn’t one for conventions or white men tradition)

Mary, Mary quite contrary-angry I mean angry good lord I love her

(I always pronounce gangrene as gaygrene and its super frustrating cause I’ll try my hardest to say it right but my mouth doesn’t work that way or at least it doesn’t sound right)

Only in the nineties could you say darkie doctors on TV and not be immediately cancelled or there to be some sorta outrage, same thing applies to lynching, you can hang white folks on TV but the minute a black person is having the noose we have problems (which is really good cause there are people still alive that have probably witnessed a lynching of someone who certainly didn’t deserve it)

That son of a bitch, pushing Mary was stupid because not only are you being racist which is a trait no one likes but also being a sexist pig- (you are in for it now)

Uh-oh Vin is pissed that isn’t good for anyone (well Nathan but that isn’t the point)

Do you think Vin gives a damn about being employed- and how did he get the apron off so fast like damn

THE FUCKING NOD

Here he comes the stupidest boy in the Wild West- (I’m gonna punch something I swear)

He’s so little 

Chris nearly shot Jd’s foot off 

“Where’d you come from” where did you go where’d you come from, tall dark stranger and his weird friend

(The saloon bit tickles me to death)

(For some reason it reminds me of Lone Ranger and I don’t know why)

Vin is a fucking sweetheart and I love him

Poor Nathan I hope his throat is okay

Vin do you have to be negative and suicidal in the same swoop seriously

Its Buckaroo time everybody, hell yeah

Then he jumps out a fucking window like a moron, and Chris is just standing there like a he’s too cool for school

(Is it Josiah or ‘osiah, not entirely sure)

And here comes the Ez, ugh he’s about as cute as he can get

“Sorry for the mess” lordy be

(Love Ez’s one-liners)

“I abhor gambling” carefully baby don’t want Maude to hear you and fuck you too you Southern bigot (I know he gets better but still, that language isn’t okay)

What the fuck is he doing with his fancy footwork just leave the saloon for mother’s sake

It’s too early in the morning to deal with Jd just goddammit (I’m gonna make some popcorn and come back to this cause I seriously can’t)

(Okay I’ve calmed down and I am ready for the stupidity)

What did he think was going to happen, of course, you fell off your fucking horse you side saddled that bitch and startled a horse that you don’t even know you’re better than this

(The only thing he can’t do is have a brain cell)

Chris is an asshole

This damn kid

Buck what the hell are, you doing, leave the kiddo be

(I also find it difficult to trust white men)

And here comes the boy and Buck (Jd’s hair is just bad, it’s like Snape’s)

Buck is right about Jd being a prep

“We’ll carve it on his tombstone” brutal Chris just brutal

(Vin is a sweet boy have I said that already cause he is)

Ezra is so good with kids damn

(Ron Perlman’s arms hell yeah)

Ezra nearly died good lord and he just goes with it and pretends he did it on purpose

Here comes Rainey girl I love her

Nathan why you hurt me, and RAINE THIS ISNT THE TIME TO PLAY MATCHMAKER

I love Raine’s dad he’s fantastic

Buck is such a goof I love him

Why is the guy, so raspy what happened

Jd getting punched is my favorite

This is so cringe, and I really like it “I was in prison for not being white” (that is still the case for some people and we all know it)

Buck CHILL THE FUCK OUT 

Vin are you serious, you don’t know Chris and there you are just hanging out and suddenly you’re like hey dude if I die, take my body to Tascosa you will get a huge payday, he didn’t have to do that at all but he’s just that dude I love him too much

(There’s also a really good fic about Josiah and his crows it's great)

Ezra, I’m done with you, good lord just go home

Here we go

Nathan is a gift to all

Buck don’t waste bullets and Josiah go to a hospital, Jd you’re an idiot and nearly died plus Ezra what are you doing go to Nathan, dumbass

Buck spewing truth everywhere

Bruised my ass Ezra just accept help like a normal human being goddamn

Nathan does not take no for an answer and ow I heard that crack in my own arm ouch

Nathan called him out

Josiah, I love you so much, (usually, I really hate missionaries cause they can be extremely intolerant to other religions especially those of Native peoples,) but Josiah tries his best to respect them which is a breath of fresh air

Josiah fainting isn’t helpful I don’t care what the crows, say (he’s a birdbrain)

Poor Jd, I just wanna give him a hug, and dude chill you are being a mess, like drink like a normal person

Buck stop telling people Chris’s past it isn’t appropriate

And I swear we own an old blanket that looks exactly like Josiah’s poncho no joke

“I’m a spiritual man, sometimes I turn to the wrong kind of spirits” I love this line

Ezra stop corrupting the youth, (Ezra is like O’Reilly and I love that characterization)

What debts they can’t be older than 10, Ezra stop, please 

Nathan, I get you love, her -chill, and Jd “I haven’t shot anyone yet” are you kidding me, seriously

“Buck you’re full of crap” “You’re just figuring that out now” (Had I mentioned I love their dynamic cause I really really do)

(I did some research on Laudanum, purely for fun and apparently, it’s basically just a mixture of every opiate available and then some, plus it’s illegal to make for obvious reasons,)

That’s right Ezra you aren’t a coward or at least not completely

(Jd’s story makes me think that maybe MAYBE he was abused as a kid in the stables, not anything too horrific but still bad and I really wanna write about it)

Btw there is a wonderful thing (I think it was posted by 7men not sure though) anyway it says something about Jd used some of the money to take care of his mama before she died, and after there wasn’t enough to go to college but there was enough to go out west) I think about it at least once a month

(The war is over if only some people could get that through their thick heads)

Ezra you sneaky son of a bitch pulling a Chico

Chris is such a badass I mean that must hurt pulling off that handcuff

Round Three

I’m a bad bitch “You can’t kill me”

John Daniel Dunne- are you kidding me, are you trying to make either myself or Buck die because if you are you’re doing a great job (He is so stupid)

Buck, really you could have tackled him or really done anything else- instead you decide to fucking get stabbed by a sword (this is why you only have half a brain cell- I mean God fucking damn it)

Really Jo seriously like thanks for taking a bullet for Buck but really

Watching this episode has taken almost three hours but it’s totally worth it

(This is the worst part ugh it's like a weird zombie movie)

“You were like a son to me” Bitch you nearly shot him with a cannon

Chris thank you I wasn’t sure if that stupid general was gonna bite it or not

Jd cut out the angst you’re gonna hurt yourself 

This old dude is a gift

“Buck, you look awful” kid your hair looks awful don’t let me get started

Nathan, Raine and the kid look like the perfect family and it makes me smile

“Where you going? Get down off that horse” poor Nathan what did he do to deserve the stress of dealing with those idiots like seriously what did he do

The good thing though is I’m pretty sure Josiah got a new poncho which is definitely a win

Raine gets it though she’s just ‘look those white morons are gonna get themselves killed so it’s better if you at least try to save their skins’ I can handle things here

Poor Josiah, he is just as hunched over as he can be, its pitiful  

Okay I’m FINALLY done with this episode, think I may read a little before I get back on the saddle and on to my absolute favorite episode One Day Out West

[flapperfromthefuture]

I’ve been experimenting with a couple of new ways to beat the winter blues—baking with such frenzy that I have to buy the 18 egg cartons and the person at the register asks me, “Big weekend plans?” every. single. time, and expanding my horizons with such gusto that I nearly got dropkicked by a jazz enthusiast.

Let me explain.

After watching a beautiful tombstone-grey sunset at 3:30 one October afternoon, I had the urge to bake because “You can’t stick your head in the oven if there’s other stuff in there.”

So I have been baking. Like, obsessively.

I’ve even gotten fancy. I made a povitica, the Aaron Burr of breads, with raspberry and then apricot jam (very sticky, but tasty). Then I wanted to try a savory challah, so I experimented with adding different amounts of cardamom and THEN za’atar.

I tried making challah with harissa because it seemed like a good idea at the time. It was super messy working the harissa into the dough and then braiding it before the whole loaf could fall apart, but the end result was delicious and made my kitchen smell like a spice market in the midst of somewhere warm that is not Michigan.

I made two Bienenstich, or bee sting cakes, which I hadn’t attempted since my brioche class. I managed not to overdo the topping this time! No almond-induced structural collapses here.

Then I made this gigantic cinnamon roll, which the recipe claimed was an Estonian Kringla, and since the best cinnamon roll I’ve ever had was in Estonia, I tried it out. And it was pretty good, but didn’t quite get me to pre-winter euphoria levels, aka enough energy to stay awake past mid-afternoon because it’s so dark outside.

My sister really wanted to make Halloween desserts together, which translated into me buying all the supplies and then baking everything myself while she lay on the floor.

She had just run a half-marathon . . . five days earlier.

I don’t like making Rice Krispie treats as they are a tactile nightmare. Everything you touch sticks to you forever and then continues to stick to you even after you die. I also gravely miscalculated how many marshmallows to buy (because weight and volume are different, apparently? School never covered that) and my mom will not let me live it down—anyone who stops by the house is asked, “Do you want something to drink? Or maybe some marshmallows? Elizabeth bought a thousand.”

Stella likes to say, “God knew you’d be too powerful if you were good at math.”

I don’t enjoy cooking as much as baking, but I made my yearly stab at sides for Thanksgiving. These harissa sweet potatoes looked beautiful but were a little too spicy for my weak-ass family.

(I also may have put in too much harissa. But it’s expensive and I wanted to use it all!).

A and I are officially in the throes of cabin fever, and when our beloved Midnight Madness rolled around, she decided that we needed to mix things up and elected to check out a jazz club downtown that we had never visited. Our friend Julia was with us and her mom was in town from the East Coast, so A thought we’d show them a sophisticated time . . . after visiting the holiday petting zoo, of course, and making a quick stop in the Himalayan Bazaar to see if the Yeti was around—he was not, because he never is, BUT I WILL SEE HIM NEXT YEAR SO HELP ME. 

Stella did not join us for Midnight Madness, electing instead to stay in and watch The Crown, which in hindsight, was too much of a gamble to take without supervision.

We swept into the jazz club with our heavy coats and dorky beanies and I immediately felt way too square to chill with the jazz cats. Everyone had sleek scarves and trendy eyewear and even the gorgeous modern light fixtures seemed to judge us as we sat at our table.

There was a lady wearing sunglasses inside. At night. In winter.

It was below freezing out. I thought, “Is this an awards show?”

I had only eaten roasted almonds and hot chocolate for dinner so I needed something revitalizing . . . or barring that, mozzarella sticks.

This jazz club did not have mozzarella sticks. Mozzarella sticks aren’t cool. They had charcuterie plates, pate, foie gras PB&J (why?), and charred baby octopus (WHY?), and everything was super expensive, but there was a jazz quintet onstage that seemed really legit, so I was excited to get some culture, even at the expense of mozzarella sticks.

A stared down at the menu like she could intimidate it into submission. She will eat anything, but draws the line at baby animals that have been set on fire.

“I don’t know what to get,” she said. “This never happens to me.”

“What are you guys ordering?” I asked Julia and her mom.

And then, out of nowhere, SLAM, a hand smacked our table loud enough to make me jump. An older man glared at me and said, “I’m not paying to hear you talk.”

He looked a lot like Santa, which made it even more distressing. I don’t want to get in trouble with Santa!

A is from Chicago and doesn’t take anyone’s shit (which is good for me, because to quote John Mulaney, “You could pour soup into my lap and I’d apologize to you“), so she looked Santa right in the eye and said, very calmly, “You don’t need to take that tone. We’ve never been here before and we’re trying to figure out what to order.”

Santa scowled and said, “Just be quiet.” Like we were children, which we are not. We patronize jazz clubs!

Just so we’re clear, A was the most well-behaved child who ever childed and practically showed up to preschool with a briefcase. No one has ever told her, “Just be quiet.” And I was so hyperfocused on craft kits and Legos that no one ever told me that either. In fact, adults scolded me to be less quiet because “You’re like a little ninja.”

“That wasn’t very Midwestern,” said Julia. “Don’t get the wrong idea, Mom. People in Ann Arbor are usually very chill.”

“He’s probably a boomer,” said Julia’s mom, who is a boomer herself, and incredibly cool.

We ordered our drinks and tried to enjoy the jazz.

Here’s the thing about jazz. People think they enjoy it, because music, right? Who doesn’t like music? Everyone loved La La Land, and there was jazz in that, right?

But what you don’t know about jazz, until you’re trapped in a jazz club with incinerated child octopi and furious boomers, is that the average jazz song is about fifteen minutes long. There’s the normal part, that sounds like a song and tells a story you can follow and enjoy, and then the improv starts. Every musician starts playing scales or hitting the drums in a way that should be exciting but really isn’t, and should build to something musically but really doesn’t, and then when they’re done the audience claps and the next person does the same thing, but it’s like listening to several minutes of joke set-ups with no punchlines. Over and over, until they just stop and then the next song starts.

“Are they going to do this for every song?” I thought about saying, but then did not, because I didn’t want to anger the man.

Instead, I checked my phone for a quick primer on jazz appreciation.

I still hadn’t eaten anything and A had declared that we wouldn’t be ordering any food so we could leave sooner . . . but not soon enough.

Other people were chatting and eating and enjoying the music, but I wasn’t doing any of those things.

A was glaring daggers into the back of Santa’s head.

Julia and her mom weren’t super into it either, to the point that Julia claimed that if she rushed the stage and pretended to be the next act by riffing on a triangle, no one would question it. Her mom was supportive of this, so it was time to go.

We said good-bye outside, relieved at finally being allowed to speak freely.

“That drum solo went on FOREVER,” said Julia.

“I thought the cymbal crash meant it was over but it just kept going!” said A.

“I really liked La La Land an hour ago and now I hate it,” I said.

So my journey to find something that will beat seasonal affective disorder back to whence it came continues. Will I go complicated and attempt to make my first panettone, which can take 24 HOURS to bake?

Or keep it simple and just get some mozzarella sticks?

          Baking vs. Jazz: Holiday Showdown I’ve been experimenting with a couple of new ways to beat the winter blues—baking with such frenzy that I have to buy the 18 egg cartons and the person at the register asks me, "Big weekend plans?" every.