#he had a daughter of his own but she died and little sally reminds him of her

[inkybinkyboink]

like i knowww little sally is meant to be narrator-in-training to lockstock its just more fun to imagine a tragic backstory to explain why he's so nice her

[kid-az]

Omori Xenoblade 2 Crossover au

Am very bored so I just wanted to share a silly crossover idea I thought up. I hope you folks enjoy reading.

(Main ships are Heromari, Cactiflower, and Sunburn)

Hero (Driver): A driver from Uraya. His family is part of the Urayan nobility, and like in canon, they pressure him to become a doctor, (One that treats injured soldiers) even though he wants to be a chef, specifically one that serves the common people and downtrodden. He defended himself with a frying pan before becoming a driver, but now fights using Mari’s tessen’s, or war fans. He wasn’t able to become a driver at first since he wasn’t attuned to it, but after Mari became his blade, he got better at it.

He wears the typical Urayan outfit, not as grand as some of the nobles, but he doesn’t mind at all. He wears Urayan armor while in battle, though the chest plate has a symbol that resembles an Aegis’s core chip or the Conduit. He has dark blue hair (As blue as his canon RW shirt) and has scale-like protrusions on his cheeks and neck.

Like in canon, he’s an extremely nice, friendly guy, though unlike in canon, he didn’t have depression or survivors guilt due to never meeting Mari until his adulthood. He is of course completely terrified of Arachno’s, though highly appreciates nature otherwise. His and Kel’s parent’s have blades of their own, his dad has an earth-based, doglike blade named Hector and his mom has a light-based, human blade named Polly.

Mari (Blade): A wind-based attack class blade who has an appearance partially resembling that of a spider, such as having 2 pairs of beady eyes, bristles on her human arms and legs, and 4 spider-like webs on her back. She wears a short-skirt kimono that is colored in many shades of purple, two scarves that she weaved with her ability of making web-like strings, and wields war fans that she can use to hit in a distance by tying webs around them.

Just as kind as Mari, but can be very sagely in her advice and a little mellow… almost depressed. This happiness comes back when she sees Sunny, her so-called little brother…… and becomes depressed again when she remembers that Sunny doesn’t remember her… or does he? She kicks herself out of the depression by talking about bugs, weaving and knitting clothing/plushies, and playing the family piano or accordion.

Mari is actually a flesh eater, one that has existed almost as long as Jin had, before Torna got destroyed. She and her little brother were awakened by a driver who they considered their dad, and before he died. (Old age, he survived Torna.) He offered his heart to his daughter as he favored her more than Sunny. While Sunny went back into his core crystal and became mysteriously lost, Mari remained active and conscious…… so she decided to travel the world and help people.

Heromari Dynamic: Hero would meet Mari while she was in Fonsa Myma, donating clothing and playing a button accordion. Although afraid of her at first, Hero would be endeared by her kindness, beauty underneath her spider-like features, as well as her mischievous, smug nature. Mari would be endeared by how much of a kindhearted, selfless dork Hero was, (And also wanting to act as an older sister-in-law for Kel, since he sorta reminds her of her little brother) and decide to pick him as her driver.

They’re dynamic is the same as in canon, though Mari like to jumpscare him in the dark as she finds his scared reactions to be funny and adorable. She acts as a responsible teacher and older sister-in-law to Kel, teaching him how to knit and weave, encouraging him to be as confident in himself as he can, and offering sagely advice… albeit she gives advice to both brothers. She dotes heavily on their baby sister Sally.

Kel (Driver): Also a Driver from Uraya, and one who actually became a driver earlier than Hero did, in spite of their parents favoring the latter. More confident in himself than in canon due to Mari’s encouragement and the fact he’s a driver. Is the royal guard to Uraya’s queen, basically their version of special inquisitor Morag.

Wears gilded, modified Urayan armor, though this one is much lighter as he utilizes agility than brute force and tankiness. It is also shaded a faded orange as that is his favorite color. Same hair color as Hero yet also thicker, and has scales above his eyes. Kel doesn’t play basketball as it wasn’t invented in Uraya :(

If Hero likes nature, Kel LOVES it! He would never attempt to harm an animal, and would always find some way to drive them off/nonlethally incapacitate them. Loves Hector and takes him on walks, and is of course very energetic. He wields a scythe, first a regular war scythe then Basil’s Blade scythe. Usually joins meetings with Uraya and Mor Ardain, with him and Morag being friends (And gushing about their blade partners, which they get embarrassed by.)

Basil (Blade): An earth-based, tank type blade, Basil is regarded as “The flower of Uraya” and it fits very well for his appearance and personality. He always has a vibrant flower crown on his green-colored hair, and his outfit consists of a long robe overgrown with vines, mushrooms, moss, and of course, flowers. He wields a gardening scythe as his weapon.

Although his various incarnations (Such as Stranger, Rowan, and Flower) were of various characters, (Former was mysterious and very blunt, the middle was outright violent and rebellious, and the latter was far too closed-off and meek) This incarnation of Basil is one that is extremely kindhearted, albeit a little too insistent on how “everything is okay.” His overall appearance and demeanor is slightly based on who his driver is, and due to Kel’s optimism, bravery, and sense of responsibility, Basil shares these same traits.

He can be a little bit meek, shy, and socially anxious, but all in all he is a very reliable friend to his pals and a significant other to Kel, who they can all rely on and to never give up. He has been adopted by Polly, who acts as Basil’s mother-like figure. During the rare times they meet, Brighid acts as an older sister figure to Basil.

Cactiflower dynamic: After Hero’s failure in awakening Basil, (Thankfully only getting a nosebleed and headache instead of death.) their parents reluctantly had Kel try to awaken him so as to not become an embarrassment to the nobility. Thankfully, Kel managed to awaken him on the first try, and the both of them immediately got along very well without any issues, outside of some shyness over their mutual crushes.

Thankfully, after the acknowledgment and encouragement from Morag and her blade partner Brighid, Kel and Basil felt comfortable enough to start dating eachother, and now they are a powerful, inseparable pair! Unlike most of Basil’s previous driver, who were often sent to put down rebellions or slaughter political targets and beasts, Kel and Basil have instead decided to help out the population with their issues, helping fend off beasts on in way that harms not people nor nature, exemplifying Uraya’s culture of natural coexistence.

Also they love cuddling together because teehee it’s cute!

Aubrey (Driver): She is Tantalese, having a singular cross-shaped marking under each of her eyes. She’d be dressed similarly to the average citizen on the Titan, though her jacket would be white to reference her varsity jacket, and she'd have a pink ribbon that she got from the black market, made in the Uraya titan! Her family life would be similar to how she is in Omori, a shitty single drunk mom, having to rely on herself to feed her and her mom. She does this by hunting some of the wildlife and monsters, selling their parts in the black market to get stuff she needs.

Unlike in canon however, she wouldn’t have met the rest of the group yet. She’d be a lot more verbally harsh and closed off to strangers, and would be as brutally honest as possible. She’d however heavily idolize and maybe be friends with prince Zeke and Pandoria, thinking of them as pretty cool people she can trust greatly. (And she is objectively right) She’d wield a a sword with a gun stuck on it as a weapon before becoming a driver, and after that she’d ditch her old sword with the dual ones Sunny has. Speaking of…

Sunny (Blade): As stated, he’d be a dark type blade of the healer class, his weapon class being two butterfly swords. His initial design would be inspired by the Komusō monks (Specifically the basket mask, kimono and flute) and the Nekomata, (Specifically with two tails and cat ears. No human ones though) though with enough trust with Aubrey and maybe some of the gang they’ll eventually meet with, he’ll take off the basket mask and show he only has one eye….. and that his core chip is cracked! (His right eye is replaced with black foggy mist.)

His cracked core chip would give him some pretty bad amnesia and dissociate, often referring to himself as either Sunny or Omori. He’s also be a bit more verbally sassy due to influence from Aubrey. He would have the special ability to absorb any attacks via a black hole, and then shoot these attacks back whenever he feels like. Also he’d have several red hands extending from his back.

Strangely… Sunny would be drawn to artwork, music, or people that resembled the ancient Torna Titan, one that had been destroyed 500 years ago….. and he’d have brief recollections of a person named Mari….. weird, normally blades wouldn’t remember their past lives…

Sunburn Dynamic: So like… Aubrey is a little distrusting of Sunny even though he is a blade, and it doesn’t help that he wears that strange basket mask. Snuuy… while not at all distrusting of Aubrey still doesn’t show much emotion and is shy. But then later she decides…… hey, she should take inspiration from how the prince and how he interacts with his Blade and just…… over exaggerate herself as much as possible. Give Sunny cute nicknames like Sunbun or Sunshine… even go as far as to pose dramatically like prince Zeke would…… and Sunny starts chuckling happily, and it was probably the cutest laughter Aubrey has ever heard.

Then their relationship gets better, Aubrey offering Sunny piggybacks as she is very STRONK, and Sunny plays tunes with a flute he has one him so as to soothe her. Eventually, the both of them decide they would escape Tantal and the overall Genbu Titan and go out into the cloud sea….. where a wider world and possible friends await them.

[starstwinkleplanetsshine]

Daughter of the Sea

Chapter Fifteen: I Meet a Shadow (Read on AO3 here)

It took a little work to convince Paul that Poseidon had left via the fire escape, but since people can’t vanish into thin air, he had no choice but to believe it.

We ate blue cake and ice cream until we couldn't eat any more, then we played a bunch of party games like charades and monopoly. I won charades, which Tyson didn’t get, but it turned out he was really good at Monopoly. He knocked Percy out of the game in the first five rounds, me two rounds later, and then he started bankrupting mom and Paul. 

Percy disappeared into his room, but I stayed and watched for a while. I wanted to soak up all the information I could about my new family. I learned that Tyson had the biggest heart of anyone I’d ever met, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t ruthless when it came to board games. Paul was smart and calculated, but also easy-going and fun. Mom was…well…perfect. Watching her did make me miss my adopted mom, though, but having Sally there made me feel warm and protected, and most of all, loved. 

It was hard for me to believe I had just met them. 

After a while, I figured I should see where Percy went. I walked down the hall, hearing Paul protesting as Tyson took over another one of his properties, and took a turn into Percy’s bedroom. He didn’t notice me, since he was standing on the fire escape outside the window. His back was to me, and I watched as he planted a small seed in a planter box, the full moon shining down on him, casting a silver tint on the world outside. He poured something from his camp canteen on the dirt, and he waited.

Nothing happened at first, but then a tiny silver plant sprang out of the soil, shimmering in the dark night. It seemed to radiate its own silver glow, and something about it reminded me of the dreams of that beautiful island I had while Percy was missing. 

“Nice plant.” A voice said from outside, and I jumped at the same time my brother did. I couldn't see who was there, and my fingers made their way up to my new necklace all on their own, ready to strike. When you’re a halfblood, any unknown is potentially dangerous. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” I could barely make out the voice saying. 

“That’s—that’s okay. I mean…what are you doing here?” Percy responded. I relaxed a bit. If my brother wasn’t afraid of or threatened by the voice, then I figured I shouldn't be, either. 

“I’ve done some exploring. Thought you’d want to know–” he stopped short, and I was just starting to wonder why when he spoke again. “You’ve got a shadow.” 

I didn’t realize he was talking about me until Percy turned around, his face concerned and ready to fight. He relaxed immediately when he saw me, even smiling a little. 

“Come on out, Ange. I want you to meet someone.” 

I sheepishly made my way out onto the fire escape, feeling caught. Percy didn’t seem to care that I had been watching, though. He helped me out of the window and once I was standing next to him, he spoke. 

“Angie, this is Nico di Angelo, son of Hades. Nico, this is Angie. She’s my sister.” 

My eyes and Nico’s went wide at the same time. He spoke first. 

“Your sister? What do you mean?” 

“She’s my sister, like, my actual sister. Her dad is Poseidon and, uhh, we have the same mom.” I let Percy respond, and I stood staring at the boy in the shadows. 

“Huh. Why not?” Was all Nico said. If he had more questions, he didn’t ask them. 

“It’s, uhh, nice to meet you.” I said with a weak smile. “How did you get on the fire escape?” 

“Shadows are kinda my thing.” He said flatly. I nodded—that makes sense, I thought. He looked just like I would expect a child of Hades to look—dark messy hair, dark eyebags, black, tattered clothing, and eyes so brown they were almost, you guessed it, black. I realized he had been the emo kid in the battle, the one who opened a fissure in the earth. There was something unsettling about him, too, as if his very aura radiated death and decay. The shadows seemed to bend toward him, like they were trying to swallow him whole. Just being around him made me wanna turn and run, but I steeled my nerves. Percy didn’t seem scared by him, and I trusted my brother. 

“Like I was saying,” he started playing with the silver skull ring on his finger. “Thought you’d wanna know, Percy, Daedalus got his punishment.” 

“You saw him?” At the mention of the events of this summer, Percy seemed to forget that I was there. 

Nico nodded and filled Percy in on the details he saw down in the underworld. Just the thought of that place made me shiver. I knew that Percy had been down there before, and I didn’t know how he did it. Being surrounded with so much death and sadness would send me running. 

Nico tapped at his silver ring. “But that’s not the real reason I’ve come. I’ve found out some things. I want to make you an offer.” 

Percy perked up at this. “What?”

“The way to beat Luke,” he said. “If I’m right, it’s the only way you’ll stand a chance.” 

I saw the color drain out of Percy’s face, and in the moonlight he looked like a ghost. I could practically feel how much pain the mention of Luke caused him, but he took a deep breath and his eyes went steely. 

“Okay. I’m listening.” Percy said. 

Nico glanced inside the room, and his eyebrows furrowed. “Is that…is that blue birthday cake?”

He sounded hungry, maybe a little wistful. It sounded like he had never had birthday cake before, or even been to a birthday party. I knew what Percy was about to do before he opened his mouth. 

“Come inside for some cake and ice cream,” he said. “It sounds like we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

He looked uneasy, and he opened his mouth to (I assume) protest, but then his stomach growled. Percy cracked a smile and began to climb in through the window, so I followed. He offered nico his hand, who looked at it for a few seconds before taking it and climbing in the room after us. I handed Nico the slice of uneaten cake from the dresser, and he began eating it before we were even in the hallway. 

Percy and I walked into the living room as Paul flipped over the Monopoly board. Tyson sat there with all the colorful money, beaming. My mom was laughing as she turned to look at us, but her smile faltered when she saw the small, skinny boy behind us. 

“Mom, you remember our neighbor Nico who lives a few doors down and likes to climb the fire escapes, right?” Percy spoke in a way that made it clear to me that Sally had never met the son of Hades before. Luckily for Nico, she was a quick thinker. 

“Oh of course!” she said, putting on her smile again. “Percy mentioned you might stop by.” She was on her feet in moments, and Paul only looked mildly confused. 

“Hello, Ms. Jackson. Nice to, uhh, see you again.” He stuck out his hand for a handshake, which mom accepted. He may have been a son of the underworld, but he knew his manners. 

“Your fire escape seems to see a lot of action.” Paul said with a raised eyebrow. Percy just shrugged. 

“Keeps things interesting.” 

Paul left shortly after, so we didn’t have to keep the charade up for long. As soon as the door closed on him, the mood shifted and everyone dropped their smiles.

“Thanks for the cake and games, but we should probably go somewhere to talk.” Nico said to Percy, breaking the silence. He seemed to be having a genuinely good time, though, and it was nice to meet another child of the Big Three. 

He also seemed to carry a weight around with him, a burden that he shouldered all on his own. A burden that should've been too heavy. I recognized the sadness in his eyes—I had seen it in my brother. I had seen it in my own reflection. 

The two boys disappeared into Percy’s room for a long time. I helped mom and Tyson clean up, but soon my cyclops half-brother was asleep on the couch and I was laying on the floor reading my favorite book. Percy and Nico still hadn’t come out. 

Mom was starting to get worried, so I offered to go check on them. I could tell she wanted to, but didn’t want to interrupt whatever serious demigod business they were discussing. 

I had no problem interrupting. 

As I approached Percy’s closed door, I started to hear snippets of conversation. Percy sounded agitated, while Nico remained calm. I paused outside the door to listen. 

“No way, Nico. It’s too dangerous.” 

Nico’s voice was muffled, because his tone was lower, so I could only make out a few words. “...the only…explain…invincible.” 

“That’s just crazy!” 

“...done before.” 

“I can’t. I won’t.” 

“You don't have a…wait a minute.” The boys were quiet, and I heard footsteps approaching the door. I tried to turn and stealthily make my way down the hallway, but Nico was too quick. I was only a few steps away when he flung the door open. 

I turned, expecting to see the blazing eyes of the angry son of death, but instead I saw a lopsided smile and warm eyes. 

“I told you shadows were my thing.” Nico’s tone was playful.

“Our mom, umm, she was starting to worry. She wanted me too…” 

He chuckled and then sighed. “Come on in. You should probably hear this, too.” 

I walked in the room to see Percy sitting on his bed, his hands on both sides of his head, tangled in his hair. He looked extremely stressed out. 

As soon as Nico filled me in on his plan, I understood why. 

After a couple of minutes, there was a tentative knock on the door. I offered to get it, since Percy was still processing and this wasn’t Nico’s room. I opened it to see a very concerned Sally Jackson. 

“You didn’t come back. I was starting to wonder if you three had taken off.” By the worry in her voice, I could tell that sort of thing had happened before. 

“Sorry, mom.” Percy piped up. He tried to smooth his hair and make himself look like he wasn’t on the verge of a breakdown. “There’s just…a lot Nico had to fill us in on.” 

Hearing him say us made me happy in spite of the tense mood. 

“It’s okay.” Mom replied, sounding relieved. “I understand. Things are happening in your world that I can’t help with, even though I wish I could.” Her eyes were kind and sad, and for the first time I thought how hard it must be to be the mortal parent of a halfblood. To have your children be a part of a world you never could enter, to fight battles you didn’t understand and carry burdens you didn’t know about. No wonder she sounded so scared. 

“I should go.” Nico said, shifting awkwardly. “There’s more work to do. I’ll stay in touch, Percy. Think about what I said.” He started to walk towards the fire escape before turning back around. “Nice to meet you, Angie.” He then turned toward my mom. “Thank you for your hospitality, Ms. Jackson. The cake was delicious.” And with a small smile, the boy climbed out the window and disappeared into the shadows.

[thewidowsghost]

Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 1

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

(Y/n) stands in the kitchen of her mother and step-father's apartment, making the bean dip Smelly Gabe liked so much.

(Y/n) fixes her gaze on the counter but then she lets out a yelp as something hits her in between her shoulder blades.

"Hurry it up, girl!" Smelly Gabe snarls.

"Yes sir," (Y/n) murmurs.

A few minutes later, Gabe stalks into the kitchen, takes the dip without so much of a thank you.

(Y/n) fixes her gaze on the shoe on the ground before she moves to her room. She climbs into her bed, getting under her covers. (Y/n) turns, facing the wall.

She closes her eyes, falling to an uneasy sleep.

(Y/n) watches, disconnected from the others in the dream, as one of her brother's teachers turns into something that reminded her of a demon, or something similar that she'd read books about. The woman had bat wings, claws, and a mouth of yellow fangs.

Then (Y/n) looks around, her eyes widening in shock as she sees her brother holding a bronze sword.

Percy swings the sword, the demon exploding into yellow powder, vaporizing on the spot.

A hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder has (Y/n) jolting awake. "Honey? Are you okay?" Sally Jackson asks.

Catching the wide-eyed look of horror on (Y/n)'s face, Sally wraps her daughter in a hug.

(Y/n)'s breathing steadies, and she breathes in her mother's familiar scent - chocolate, licorice, and all the other things she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central Station.

"Did you get all your work done?" Sally asks softly, her thumb brushing over a slightly visible bruise that had appeared at the base of the back of her neck.

(Y/n) hums in reply.

. . .

The next day, (Y/n) is once again lying in her bed, not wanting to have to deal with Gabe throwing more shoes or glass bottles at / near her.

. . .

Percy walks into the apartment, dragging his suitcase behind him, hoping his mom would be home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe is in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blares ESPN; chips and beer cans are strewn all over the carpet.

Hardly looking up, he says around his cigar, "So, you're home."

"Where's my mom? (Y/n)?"

"Mom's working," Gabe says. "The girl's in her room. You got any cash?"

"That's it. No Welcome back. Good to see you. How has your life been the last six months?

Gabe had put on weight since the last time Percy had seen him. Gabe looked like a tuskless walrus in thrift-store clothes. He has about three hairs on his head, all combed over his bald scalp.

"I don't have any cash," Percy replies.

Gabe raises a greasy eyebrow. Gabe could sniff out money like a bloodhound, which is surprising, since his own smell should've covered up everything else.

"You took a taxi from the bus station," he says. "Probably paid with a twenty. Got six, seven bucks in change. Somebody expects to live under this roof, he ought to carry his own weight. Am I right, Eddie?"

Eddie, the super of the apartment building, looks at Percy with a twinge of sympathy. "Come on, Gabe," he says. The guy just got here."

"Am I right?" Gabe repeats.

Eddie scowls into his bowl of pretzels. The two other guys pass gas in harmony.

"Fine," Percy says. He digs a wad of dollars out of his pocket and throws the money on the table. "I hope you lose."

"Your report card came, brain boy!" He shouts back at Percy. "I wouldn't act so snooty!"

Percy slams the door to his room, which isn't really his room. During school months, it is Gabe's 'study.' He doesn't study anything in there except old car magazines, but he loves shoving his stuff in Percy's closet, leaving his muddy boots on the windowsill, and doing his best to make the place smell like his nasty cologne, cigars, and stale beer.

Percy drops his suitcase on the bed. Home sweet home he thinks.

Gabe's smell is almost worse than the nightmares about Mrs. Dodds, or the sound of that old fruit lady's shears snipping the yarn.

Percy sits, lost in his thoughts.

Then he hears his mom's voice, "Percy?" She opens the bedroom door, and his fears melt. "Oh, Percy," she hugs him tight. "I can't believe it. You've grown since Christmas."

Sally had brought Percy a bag of 'free samples' the way she always did whenever he'd come home.

The two sit together on the bed. While Percy attacks the blueberry sour strings, she runs her hands through his hair, demanding to know everything that he hadn't put in his letters. She doesn't mention his getting expelled. She doesn't seem to care about that.

Percy tells his mother that she is smothering him, but secretly, Percy is really, really glad to see her.

From the other room, Gabe yells, "Hey, Sally - how about some bean dip, huh?"

Percy grits his teeth. My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should be married to a millionaire, not to some jerk like Gabe.

(Y/n) pads into Percy's room, and the dark haired boy brightens at the sight of his younger twin.

"I've got the dip, Mom," (Y/n) says softly. Sally gazes at her daughter for a moment, her gaze sad.

"Wait, (Y/n)," Sally says, and (Y/n) turns back to face her mother. "I've got a surprise for the two of you," she says. "We're going to the beach."

Percy's eyes widen. "Montauk?"

"Three nights - same cabin," Sally replies.

"When?" (Y/n) asks, looking excited.

She smiles, "As soon as I get changed."

(Y/n) can't believe it. Mom, Percy, and I hadn't been to Montauk in the last two summers because Gabe had said that there wasn't enough money.

Gabe appears in the doorway behind (Y/n) and growls, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"

Percy wants to punch him, but he meets his mother's eyes, and understands that she is offering him a deal: Be nice to Gabe for a little while; just until she's ready to leave for Montauk.

"I've got it, Gabe," (Y/n) says.

"Sorry, honey," Sally says, looking at her husband. "We were just talking about the trip."

Gabe's eyes get small. "The trip? You mean you were serious about that?"

"I knew it," Percy mutters. "He won't let us go."

"Of course he will," Sally says evenly. "Your stepfather is just worried about money."

(Y/n) turns to face Gabe, smiling as kindly as she could. "What if I make a seven-layer dip that'll last the whole weekend?" she asks. "Guacamole. Sour cream. The works."

Gabe softens a bit, then turns back to face Sally. "So, this money for your trip . . . it comes out of your clothes budget, right?"

"Yes, honey," Sally replies.

"And you won't take my car anywhere but there and back."

"We'll be very careful."

Gabe scratches his double chin. "Maybe if the girl hurries up with the seven-layer dip . . . and if the boy apologizes for interrupting my poker game."

Maybe if I kick you in your soft spot, Percy thinks. And make you sing soprano for a week.

"I'm sorry," Percy mutters. "I'm really sorry I interrupted your incredibly important power game. Please go back to it right now."

Gabe's eyes narrow. His tiny brain is probably trying to detect the sarcasm in my statement, Percy thinks.

"Yeah, whatever," Gabe decides; he goes back to his game.

"Thank you, Percy," Sally says. "Once we get to Montauk, we'll talk more about...whatever you've forgotten to tell me, okay?"

For a moment, (Y/n) can see anxiety in her mother's eyes, but then her smile returns, and (Y/n) figures that she must've been mistaken.

. . .

An hour later, the three are ready to leave.

Gabe takes a break from his poker game long enough to watch (Y/n) and Percy lug the bags to his car. He keeps griping and groaning about losing her and (Y/n)'s cooking - and more important, his '78 Camaro - for the whole weekend.

"Not a scratch on this car, brain boy," Gabe warns Percy as he loads the last bag into the car. "Not one little scratch."

Like I'd be the one driving. I'm fourteen, Percy thinks.

Watching Gabe lumbers back towards the apartment building, Percy gets so mad that he does something he can't explain. As Gabe reaches the door, Percy makes the hand gesture he'd seen Grover made on the bus, a soft of warding-off-evil gesture, a clawed hand over his heart, then a shoving movement towards Gabe. The screen door slams so hard it whacks him the the butt and sends him flying up the staircase as if he'd been shot from a cannon.

. . .

(Y/n)'s POV

Our rental cabin is on the south shore, way out at the tip of Long Island. It is a little pastel box with faded curtains, half sunken into the dunes. There's always sand in the sheets, spiders in the cabinets, and most of the time the sea is too cold to swim in.

I loved the place.

Mom, Percy, and I had been going ever since Percy and I'd been a baby. Mom had been coming even longer. She'd never exactly said, but I know why the beach was special to her.

It's the place where she'd met my Dad.

As we get closer to Montauk, Mom seems to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turn the color of the sea.

We get there around sunset, open all the cabin's windows, and go through the usual cleaning routine.

Mom, Percy, and I walk on the beach, feed blue corn-chips to the seagulls, and munch on blue jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples Mom had brought home from work.

I guess maybe I should explain all the blue food.

Gabe had once told Mom that there was no such thing. They had had this fight, which had seemed like a really small think at the time, but ever since, Mom went out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes, mixed blueberry smoothies, bought blue-corn tortilla chips, and brought home blue candy from the shop. This - along with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano - is proof that she isn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, just like Percy.

When it gets dark, we make a fire. We roast hot dogs and marshmallows. Mom tells Percy and me stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents had died in the plane crash. She tells us about the books she wanted to write someday, when she had enough money to quit the candy shop.

Eventually, it seems that Percy gets the nerve to ask about what is always on our minds whenever we come to Montauk - our father. Mom's eyes go all misty. I figure she would tell us the same things she always did, but neither Percy or I ever got tired of hearing them.

"He was kind, Percy," Mom replies. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle too, like you, (Y/n)." Mom says and I soften. "You have his black hair, Percy, and you both share his green eyes.

Mom fishes a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you two. He would be so proud."

I wonder how she could say that when I'm the girl who cowers from her stepfather. The girl who hides in her room to get away from said stepfather.

"How old were we?" Percy asks, pulling me from my thoughts. "I mean . . . when he left?"

Mom watches the flames. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."

"But . . . he knew us as babies."

"No, honey," Mom replies. "He knew I was expecting twins, but he never met you. He had to leave before you were born."

I try to square that with the fact that I seem to remember . . . something about my father. A warm glow, maybe a smile.

Percy and I had always assumed that our father had known us as babies. Mom had never said it outright, but still, I'd felt that it must be true. Now, to be told that he'd never even seen us . . .

I feel angry at my father. Maybe it is stupid, but I resent him for going on that ocean voyage, for not having the guts to marry Mom.

"Are you going to send me away again?" Percy asks. "To another boarding school?"

Mom pulls a marshmallow from the fire.

"I don't know, honey," her voice is heavy. "I think . . . I think we'll have to do something."

"Because you don't want me around?" Percy says and I flinch, avoiding both his and Mom's gazes.

I glance up to see that Mom's eyes had welled up with tears. "Oh, Percy, no. I - I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away."

"But you never send her away," Percy says and I look up, eyes wide with surprise.

Mom looks at Percy, eyes wide with shock.

Finally she says, "I have to keep both of you away from each other as much as possible. I thought you'd finally be safe."

"I tried to keep you as close to me as I could," Mom says. "They told me it was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy, (Y/n) - the place your father wanted to send you two. And I just . . . I just can't stand to do it."

"Our father wanted us to go to a special school?" I ask.

"Not a school," Mom replies. "A summer camp."

My head spins. Why would my dad - who hadn't even stayed around to see me and Percy be born - talk to Mom about a summer camp?

"I'm sorry, (Y/n)," Mom says, seeing the look in my eyes. "But I can't talk about it. I - I couldn't send you two to that place. It might mean saying goodbye to you for good."

"For good?" Percy asks. "But if it's only a summer camp . . ."

Mom turns towards the fire, and I know from her expression, that if we asked any more questions, she would start to cry.

Word Count: 2413 words

[bipercabeth]

48 for percabeth! I hope u feel better about the show

Annabeth has known that Percy was going to die from the moment she met him. Four summers. Best case scenario. 

Twelve-year-old Annabeth wasn’t particularly concerned about falling in love with the trouble-making son of Poseidon who drooled in his sleep. Freshly sixteen Annabeth sometimes wishes she had opted for the quiet life some children of Athena prefer: strategize, keep your head down, live a comfortable and unremarkable life. She hardly would’ve crossed paths with Percy outside of the occasional class or Capture the Flag. He and Grover could’ve found someone else to be their best friend, or maybe they would’ve bonded as a pair. And Annabeth would have kept her distance from Percy in the name of self-preservation, knowing they would only have four bittersweet summers together at best. 

The summer before the Titan War is not the best case scenario. Percy is hardly ever at camp except for quests and Kronos-related meetings. He chooses to spend what they both know is his last of their four measly summers away from Annabeth. Grover is nowhere to be found, Thalia is with the Hunters, Luke is hosting the Titan Lord, and Annabeth feels more like a scared little girl than she has in a long time. At least she isn’t the runaway. That title fell to Percy. 

It feels like an insult to Annabeth’s love for Percy to wish they hadn’t met. She is so much better for having loved him. For loving him—present tense. But she says this while he’s still here. His smile may not be directed at her that often, but he still smiles. Sometimes Annabeth can even stomach the jealousy of Rachel being the cause of that smile, because at least someone is giving him joy before this all goes to shit. When it does, maybe Annabeth will understand what it means to wish him away, if only to end the pain of having known and lost a person like Percy Jackson. 

The feeling isn’t new. Annabeth’s gut has twisted in previous conversations where someone would bring up high school and college plans. Percy would talk animatedly about getting his license at sixteen, and Annabeth was left with a dry mouth she could not twist into a smile. He would beam at Beckendorf’s plans to attend NYU in the fall and make the older boy promise to swing by Sally’s sometime. Even Beckendorf, who had never heard the full Great Prophecy, could not stop the microexpression of pity. 

When Annabeth first heard the prophecy, it was too much for her ten year old mind. There was no face to connect to the doomed fate, no cursed blade to reap the hero’s soul. Sometimes her young brain conjured an image of Thalia, but that was a nightmare of its own. Every night, Annabeth would watch Olympus fall at the hands of someone she hoped never to know. 

She still gets those nightmares, only the visuals have improved. Percy is in every single one of them, saving or razing Olympus depending on the night. He never survives. You cannot outrun fate. Annabeth has tried. 

Still, she is a daughter of Athena, and Athena always has a plan. When Percy dies, Annabeth will fall to pieces. In a lucky string of events, she might fall alongside him. It’s a war, after all. But she has a sneaking suspicion that she will outlive him. She has a plan for this as well. The shroud they made when he was stranded on Calypso’s island was nice and communal, leagues ahead of the one the Ares cabin shroud that still makes Annabeth’s blood boil. But deep in her soul, Annabeth knows that she alone will make his shroud. Just as she’ll burn it; just as she’ll care for Sally in his stead; just as she will lay blue roses on his headstone every time she’s in the neighborhood; just as she’ll be there for Grover, for Clarisse, for all of camp when he’s gone. She will do it alone. Annabeth held the sky, once. She will shoulder this as well. How much heavier could losing her best friend be than the weight of the world? In her anticipation, they feel the same. 

She will build a monument for him, something to last the ages as he was supposed to, as permanent as the love he has given her. It will overlook the gods on Olympus, a reminder of the boy they failed. The boy who was too good for them all. Regardless of how the war goes, this will always be true. 

He was never built to last. Nothing good ever can, and he’s been burning the candle at both ends for a while now. He was meant to burn bright, not long. 

Annabeth sits in the dark of the Big House rec room, the only quiet space now that camp is in full war preparation. Well, the only quiet space apart from the beach, but Annabeth knows the smell of salt air and the sound of waves will be her undoing. That is another key feature of her plan: never go to the ocean again. 

She curls her knees into her chest, feeling every inch the child that she is. But children are not supposed to have plans for their best friend dying. Children are not supposed to have their first kiss out of fear that said best friend will die before their four summers are up. 

The door opens, throwing the room into harsh shadows and blinding light. 

“Um.” Annabeth can’t see who’s talking, but she’d know his voice anywhere. “Chiron said there was a war council meeting today.” 

She raises a hand to block out the light and give her eyes time to adjust. “Yeah, later.” To Annabeth’s horror, her voice is hoarse. Her throat is clogged with tears. 

Percy’s sneakers stop shifting in the carpet. “Are, uh... are you okay?” 

He sounds hesitant to ask, like he’s expecting vitriol to spew from Annabeth’s mouth. And, in fairness, sometimes it does. But Annabeth doesn’t have vitriol in her right now. The awareness that she does not have many days left with Percy is painfully acute. To spend them angry feels like a waste. 

“No, I’m not.” By now her eyes have adjusted to the light, and she looks at him through bleary eyes. 

Percy stills when he sees her face, looking ready to bolt. He points to the door. “Do you want me to...?”

Annabeth sniffles. “I don’t want to be alone.” 

What breaks her is how quickly he is by her side. For all their faults, it is the one thing she can count on. As long as she lets him, Percy will come to Annabeth when she’s hurting.

She doesn’t tell him how deeply that statement is carved into her, that she is carved from loneliness the same way he is carved from guilt—the pitfalls of pride and loyalty. 

A kid carved from loneliness cannot plan to be held the way that Percy holds Annabeth. Such a selfless love was unfathomable as a little girl; how could she ever have accounted for it? He just... holds her. He doesn’t try to talk or look at her face. He’s just there, unwaveringly. It kills Annabeth to know he won’t always be. It hurts to be with him, but it will hurt so much more to be without him. 

The dam breaks, and Annabeth sobs into Percy’s shoulder. He’s taller than her now, grown only to be cut down young. Still, he is steadfast, grounded, secure in his roots. The way a towering oak has no reason to fear a chainsaw until the cutting has already begun. 

“You’re my best friend,” she tells him, because she’s not sure she’s ever said it and it’s something he deserves to hear. “No matter what, you’re my best friend.” 

Percy strokes a gentle hand along the back of Annabeth’s head. “And you’re mine,” he assures her. He doesn’t say you’re my best friend too. Just you’re mine. As if the fact doesn’t haunt her. She is his, irrevocably. 

A gentle knock at the door interrupts them. Annabeth recognizes Silena’s quiet footfalls and almost withdraws from Percy, but he makes no move to. 

Silena’s voice is soft, not smug like Annabeth expects. “War council in fifteen. Figured I’d give you two a heads up.” 

Annabeth meets her eyes over Percy’s shoulder. “Thanks.” 

The older girl ducks her head in something resembling shame. “It’s the least I can do.” She leaves. 

“How much longer?” Percy asks when the door clicks shut. It isn’t an impatient question. In fact, Annabeth doesn’t know exactly what he’s asking. 

She gives an honest answer. “However long we have left.” And the sun begins to set on the fourth summer. 

[ben-the-hyena]

Okay so after YEARS of inactivity in the HM fandom, it is time to make some changes to some headcanons I had that aged badly (feel free to ask me for more details about stuff I will not talk about here because I didn't change them)

I had a Mary-Sue OC named Sally Meaker who was supposed to be the first wife and victim of Mr Meaker (an unused concept character I reused as a semi OC, he was an inspiration to both Ghost Host and Constance since he is a black widow who hung himself after he accidentally killed his beloved cat in one of his murders) who forever felt betrayed and sad as sweet as she was and she had a chatse crush on Ezra. Lmao bullshit. I'm keeping the origin story aspect but I think I am going to make her bitter and weary about everyone so that she won't have be "boohoohoo sweet" anymore as well as considering having her and @papabirdurskeks' Oswald have a relationship or at least feelings. The thing with Ezra : to the trash ! I see Ezra as a playboy so having him want to comit himself felt so off and they would have clashed too much in personalities, so to the bin with it. Also made her full name Salomea

Finally gave Mr Meaker a first name too, Beauregard

As I recently said, the Phantom Manor changes and the Disney Parade that goes with it now has me think Henry Ravenswood/the Phantom lusts over his own daughter hence his obsession in killing all men around her. As a mortal and as long as his wife Martha was around, he kept it bottled up oggling at their daughter in secret, but when he returned as a ghost and saw Martha had not returned, that was free real estate, nobody could judge him again and he was all powerful and unstoppable. He now wants to keep her "pure" until she would finally give in to him and stop being a waiting bride. Give her time, she will give up and he would finally be able to take her, he thinks. Wouldn't be surprised if in his folly he would want to marry her too since now it can't be a deadly sin anymore since they already are dead (I FEEL SO DIRTY WRITING THAT...). Plus reminder I HC he can shapeshift and is Mélanie in the end of both old and new ride

I don't remember if I ever wanted to do anything with Mélanie's heart necklace since it was given by her fiancé and according to a Disney parade beats like a real heart (and who knows maybe it was what beats in her tombstone) but now what if the whole time her fiancé's soul was locked in there by her fathee and she has no idea that all this her love was there with her because the Phantom knew she would no idea to look in there ? The heart beats when she has strong emotions as a result of her love and loneliness reacting to his presence inside without her to know what it means

Changed the meetcute between Emily and the Hatbox Ghost. It used to take place on a stormy night after he had to find shelter in the first building he would see aka the Gracey Mansion and bang at the door (since I HC she is a Gracey, daughter of Master Gracey who died young when she was a baby), and it would be a love at first sight and courting for some months or years I wasn't sure until proposal. Now, I go with her uncle and her aunt (the Ghost Host and Constance, siblings of the mate Master Gracey in my HC) being worried that at 21 she still had no suitpr and fearing she would end up as a spinster, so one day when a rich hat seller and hatter would come to bargain, they would find the occasion to push him to her hoping she would say yes with time (they didn't hate him yet, reminder for those who forgot my HCs they would hate him when they would find out he took her before marriage and the only reason they wouldn't have killed him was because they already were engaged at that point lol) Hattie/Randall Pace was very confused and awkward like that was not planned at all and he didn't want to force that stranger albeit beautiful woman and Emily was MAD because back then she and Little Leota (childhood friend) were fawning over some young and handsome but poor lumberjack who was interested in return, so she was grumpy and stubborn around Mr Pace. To the point of seeing the lumberjack in secret as superficial as he was like a sort of Gaston minus the evil, even speaking of eloping some day because the world so uuuunfaaair. After some weeks, Emily being a good person would apologize for being so rude to Randall telling her that she just is not interested and felt forced, Randall reassuring he doesn't plan to marry her either abd they could just start all over as good friends, pretending to be courting when her aunt and uncle are around but nothing concrete. And yet it would be after months of being friends and seeing they had a perfect chemistry and a lot in common or complementary they would actually fall in love no matter how ugly he was and even if that was technically arranged, hesitating (the time she realized what these feelings were) in eloping with the lumberjack or not and ending up refusing him at the very last moment when the departure was planned. Of course being superficial and just seeing her as pretty and having any pretty girl he wanted, he went "HMF. Frigid bitch bye" and left. So now she and Randall would truly court each other until he would propose 2 years later. If you remember my old posts you know how it ends up for them : wedding, murderered on their wedding night in the train that was leaving for their honeymoon by Mr Meaker who needed their wagon to hide after he had just killed his recent wife and needed to pass it not as his doing but a serial killer's (stabbed his bride and beheaded and hid his head a buttler with whom he switched clothes so that people would think it was him so he could run away from that state, stabbed Emily and beheaded Hattie whose head he hid in his hatbox), return as ghosts etc

Yeah I never decide myself on Emily's age lol now I see her as 23 when she dies

As for the Hatbox Ghost I used to imagine there was a big age gap like 40 and 50 and that he needed a cane making him look like an old man because he had ruined his back falling from a ladder one day he was carelessly organizing his hat shelves in his shop but I scrapped that. Now he is 30 only but just looks old and ugly. Hunchbacked ? He was boen with a hunch. Shrunken with age ? He is just short, the hunch gives an illusion of age shrink. The need for a cane ? He limps because he was birn with a leg longer than the other, not very visible to the eye but he sure feels it when he walks or stands (see how he slightly leans to a side). Balding ? The poor guy had no luck, RIGHT before his wedding the barber didn't ger his request right and shaved the top of his head which he horrifically hid with his hat reassuring it would grow back anyway but he died hours later and so is forever a bald ghost

Emily is au naturel for her wedding and as a ghost, used to HC because she wanted to but now I think it would make a cute and fun parralel she and Hattie would laugh off if she too had gotten unlucky right before the ceremony and her boudoir and all the products on and in it collapsed under the weight of a big crate Little Leota carelessly put on it "of course you need all these jewels" *bam* *CRASH* "..."

Always drew a face to Emily despite being in my HC the faceless Bright Eyes bride using the excuse the animatronic did have traits in the light of day. But I am actually starting to get very attached to her truly be faceless and considering it, tell me what I should do (and how kisses and eating would work)

Used to imagine Little Leota died by climbing a tree branch to see Emily's train departure better and falling down a river and drowning. Now I see her going up the attic and leaning too much over the window, slipping, falling and dying. Nobody would notice since all would be partying inside the house, only Madame Leota would realize right before dying herself overwhelmed by ghostly energies (all these tragic deaths coinciding in that small aera caused a sort of of paranormal short circuit in her magic ball that snatched her life away too, like in my old HC, but now in my old HC I leave it ambiguous if that truly was what killed her or the grieving shocking knowledge through her divination gift her daughter had died like all these deaths that same night and that caused the short circuit)

Also I read on TV Tropes Madame Pandora actually CAN materialize outside of her ball fullbody and all but just chooses to be inside it most of the time because it is her comfort zone. That's funny and cute and I did always see her super introverted especially with everything that happened to her so I accept it

Madame Leota and her daughter Little Leota randomly lived in the mansion in my old HC because she offered frequent divinations in exchange for being accomodated she and her baby daughter now she was freshly widowed and homeless. Now in my new HC inspired by a bit of one of the canon lores (again there are so many no wonder fans give up and just take pieces here and there to build their own fanon lol) she and her baby daughter had to run away from place to place for being "witches" until Master Gracey the Ghost Host/Vincent Gracey took pity and allowed them in against Constance's wish, and so it is a thanks Madame Leota offers divinations and helped the family that was starting to get low on money redo their wealth. Also stopped that weird idea I had of the Ghost Host being a creep on a grown Little Leota ew wtf was my younger self on

Used to imagine Emily's mother who died in childbirth would be named Elizabeth Henshaw like the bride in the movie but given how they had no common point married to a Gracey aside (and this time not even out of love at all but just arranged) and are not even of the same race, I scrapped it. I need to find her a name now

Used to imagine May and Victor were related to Phineas and that before himself died he was grieving his daughter and grandson who died in the swamp. That went nowhere so now I just see them as unrelated. Keeping him as the doctor of the town who already knew the Graceys before death though

I know Ezra is balding but using the excuse that his newest animatronic has more hair than before I will go with the "Dick Dastardly the 3rd" logic and have him have more hair he combs a bad way making him look like he's balding when he's not. Also enhances his attractiveness since I keep the HC he was a handsome lady's man in his lifetime

I used to imagine like a lot Master Gracey was the Master of the House, and thus despite being the middle child in my HC because I stupidly had their father prefer him over his own brother the Ghost Host. But not only was that forced family drama, I learnt "master" was just a title young upper men too young to be called sir since it does fit with I imagine him he was 18 when he died. So now the Ghost Host truly is the Master of the House from birthright after all, and not just because his brother died early

Speaking of Master Gracey, used to have him HC his ghost only looks like his final looks in his changing portrait without taking account of the middle looks. So now HC he actually shapeshifts too like the Phantom, or rather like Mélanie since it's only altering his OWN age and looks (young, old, corpse and skeleton) ; for indeed now Mélanie can do the same : young, old, corpse, skeleton. Maybe more age ranges too

Also hesitating in making him gay or bi

As you guys know I love to HC there are several Beating Heart Brides because I think every unique design is cool and reflects different personalities and that having to choose one would be a waste for me, and that Emily is the faceless Bright Eyes bride because she was one of the earliest if not THE earliest to some people who count that picture with an undetermined date as if it were a first or a concept and also because she's the one bride shown standing next to Hattie on the one piece of merchandise he is with a bride (COME ON SHE IS CANONICALLY HIS BRIDE ACCORDING TO A 1969 AUDIO WHY HAS THERE BEEN ONLY ONE FUCKING PIN SINCE 1969 THEN !?!). However I used not to count the Tokyo Bride and consider she looked too much like the middle Baby Face blue bride and that she just was her with her veil down. SUMIMASEN NANI THE FUCK How did I ever think they ever looked alike and could be one and only person !? Baby Face as her name says looks the youngest of the brides and innocent where the Tokyo Bride not only doesn't have the same face structure and hair at all she has a very mischievous smirk making her look everything but innocent. Given how the imagineers originally wanted the bride as evil until the following years made her tragical and sympathetic until Constance came along, I now officially adopt the Tokyo Bride as her own person in my fanon cast and make her a black widow just like Constance. Let us say she just arrived to the Haunted Mansion later like 1983, and that her name is Priscilla Emily Boogeyman Voodoo Gore Cavanaugh De Claire Meaker born Vampire, who lived inna similar lifestyle as the Addams Family (reminder I HC it's the same universe), 5 husbands she killed and one who actually killed because he was Mr Meaker (she was the one he killed before he ran away to that one train and killed Hattie and Emily in the process) which actually did break her heart since for the first time she was marrying out of love and willing to put her greed and murderous needs aside. But as betrayed as she was and resulting in her to travel to Tokyo to be depressed and alone there (being half Japanese she wanted to stay in the family home forever to be sad there far from America ; plus since it was a sort of Addams Family place they were okay with seeing her again as a ghost "aw sweetie look what happened to you you should have waited for them all to die out instead of offering them their ggist shapes so early as kind of you it was-" "shut up you mix up everythting"), she got better and decided to start anew by travelling back to that town back to her mischievous self and found shelter in that Haunted Mansion with other Beating Heart Brides like her. After all she, is evil only if you marry her and are a walking wallet to her eyes, she is not the friendliest and is creepy and sadistic in her humor and morals but she is an okay buddy, it's just she was raised into knowing murder and death are alright since well extreme goth aesthetic. When Emily's aunt Constance would have to move in with them in 2006 because her own house got destroyed to build a hotel, they both were cold at first to have to "live" with another black widow because it is THEIR gig, but they got better with time. And in faaaaaact I am tempted to ship them lol

Hesitating in making Constance a closetted lesbian hence why she could never ever get attached to any man and just see them as walking wallets whose access was unlocked through murder

If you guys remember my headcanon for the Spinster Bride, I had her be enthusiastic over finally getting married and she was killed by Mr Meaker on their wedding night because she was a rich cabaret owner and she was the one he killed before killing Emily and Hattie. Nope now in my new version of the story she never met Mr Meaker, and on the contrary she was a voluntary spinster because she always rejected her suitors her mother brought her because they were a rich family abd she only wanted to do sssssCANdalous business with her cabaret, therefore bringing shame to the family by getting old and not getting married and doing an unholy job ! So when she was in her late 40's someone, Mr Roberts, finally accepted to marry her again after years of suitor silence, her old mother grew hopeful again and seeing how old her mother was getting the Spinster Bride (reminder I also call her Victoria Ramsley or (H)Auntie Vicky) sighed and accepted. However her will for freedom during the ceremony took over and she said "I don't". That was the LAST straw for her mother who couldn't take any more rebellion and humiliation and grabbed a big candelabra and stabbed her here and there on the altar in a fit of madness

Also decided to rename the Corpse bride and the Baby Face bride I used to respectively call Emilia Cavanaugh and Alice Cavanaugh. Now I call them respectively Emily Sarah "Sal/Sally" (she never liked her first name and that helps since now she haunts with an Emily) Little and Emilia Alice "Millie" (that way I use her 2 fan names) Little. I give Sal's (new nickname she used to differentiate herself from Sally Meaker) boyfriend and fiancé the name John O'Hannon and her and Millie's cruel heartless father (reminder he didn't five a fuck about them, engaged Sal or back then "Emilia" to an old man but she eloped to marry her fiancé, upon finding out the father just decided he would marry Millie or back then "Alice" instead ; Millie commited suicide stabbing herself before the ceremony and meanwhile the old fiancé was mad the first girl would cheat him so he followed her to her secret ceremony shot her an arrow during it) Caleb Little, and the old fiancé and murderer Mr Gorelieu

Used to HC the changing portraits were ghosts of people who would look like a gorgon, a panther etc but nah now it's just the portraits changing out of alteration. Pluuus maybe instead of being ghosts they could be monsters, I hesitate in putting monsters and zombies (like the claustrophobic coffin man) on top or the 999 happy haunts since now I see it as the same universe as Petit Vampire and Addams Family where all these creatures exist

Used to headcanon there was Heaven and Hell. Now I leave it ambiguous, there just is an afterlife. Also had that it was just out of pure fate that some didn't join but remained in Earth as ghosts. Now since I make it fit the Petit Vampire movie continuity I apply its same lore that you become undead if you had gone through pain in all meanings of the term. And it does fit the HM ghosts too

Will see what I can do more but if you guys want more details, ask me !

[the-fiction-witch]

Note To Self

REAL LIFE: SCANDAL COUPLE: TBS XREADER RATING: FLIRTY AF

"Goodbye now one and unwelcome to this Good content" Y/n smiled from the sofa

"What are you doing?" Thomas asked

"Its not Opposite day... you Very attractive mouse like creature"

"what are you trying to say?"

"I wanted to call you an ugly rat But I don't know what the opposite of a rat is"

"I worry about you. when I'm not around"

"I'm not dumb!"

"Yeah, sure your not"

"God damn it Thomas be nice or get out of my house!"

"You just called me a rat!"

"You look like a rat"

"Why do I look like a rat?"

"The thing your growing on your face"

"Will you get over it? I have a reason to keep it right now so I can't get rid of it. for work" He says

"I know. and I hate it so very much. The second your allowed to shave again I am going to wax that off your face"

"Is there a point to this video? Or is this just lets be mean to Thomas episode six?"

"Ohh Thomas, Please" she says "Every video is lets be mean to Thomas, My Carrer is built on being mean to you"

"What are we doing y/n?" He asks

"We are going though what the other googles and writes down on our phones and note book when its late at night" she smiled

"we are?" he asks a little panicked

"Yes we are Thomas"

"Ooohh... so what I write and look up on my phone at like two am when I can't sleep?"

"Yes"

"......... But its not safe for work?" He whispered

"we'll skip the porn Thomas" she whispered back

"It's not the porn I'm worried about"

"what else do you look up at three am?"

"That's between me and Steve"

"Wh- Who's Steve Thomas?"

"My phone" He says

"wait... so when you first set up your phone it asks you to name it right?" "Yeah"

"and you took that as not to call it I don't know, Thomas' phone, TBS personal or anything like that you thought they actually meant give it a name?"

"Yes I did, His name is Steve. and he helps me work out maths, and also shop for things I don't need"

"Like that Egg timer you have in your kitchen"

"My egg timer is awesome I don't know what your taking about"

"Thomas. You are a man in your thirties. You do not need an egg timer that looks like the death star"

"... Yes I do"

"God damn it Thomas!" she sighed "I swear to god your five."

"People have been informing me I look five for many years"

"Yes but you also act it."

"If I'm five I have a lot of weapons in my house... also all the porn"

"well done Thomas. Just tell the world you have porn"

"Ohh no... Sally darling. Cut that please"

"Gimme Steve," she says stealing his phone so she handed him hers

"Can I talk about how your background is just you with your bunnies?"

"You may, but then I may discuss how yours is just a picture of a cool beach you found." she laughs "Fun fact Thomas sends me very random WhatsApp messages, usualy pictures of just... stuff"

"Its normally landscapes when I'm working" "and hotel rooms, But to be fair I like seeing them"

"You just send me pictures of cute dogs?"

"I do, If I see a cute dog on the streets I usual ask if I can pet them and if I can then I pet them and send Thomas a pic of the cute dog I found"

"I'm always a little worried of someone questioning us about that. Like why do you have like sixty strangers dog's photographed on your phone?" He laughs "Because I don't have an answer that sounds not weird"

"Thomas? why did you just send jack a picture of toast?"

"He asked what I as doing and at the time I was eating toast"

"So you just send him a picture with the caption. Toast"

"You send me random porn gif's sometimes... just like at five am I'll get like a gif of like I don't know a girl riding some dude reverse cowgirl, with just like no context not even a hello first"

"Do you then used them to jerk off?"

".... None of your business" he answered "It's a little ... like when in bed with your girlfriend"

"Just, Ohh what's that honey, Ohh yeah just my friend sending me a gif of hardcore porn"

"exactly, like its fine please don't question it. also please don't get mad"

"Wasn't I like the main reason you and your ex broke up?"

"It wasn't the main reason, but... it contributed yes"

"she didn't like me"

"No she hated you"

"She asked you to move in with her didn't she?"

"She did, but we hadn't been dating that long and I found out later the only reason she wanted me to move in with her was so I would move away from you"

"she was a bitch"

"she was... terrible boobs also"

"What makes a bad boob Thomas?"

"not fun to play with. at least from a man perspective. Also... she had a daughter so they uhh yeah"

"anyway! you google a lot of like urban dictionary?"

"I do, Because my friend's say things in text that... I don't understand. and I have to look up"

"You are so old"

"I am" He sighs "You mostly google like map stuff. Like food..." he laughs "You must be the only person I know who sorts the food to nearest to me Ooohh I didn't know there was a Chinese that close to our house?"

"Yes, its like behind us and around a corner"

"Oooohh can we get chinese food?"

"Yes we can"

"woo!"

"what is self note?" she asked

"Its where you can record yourself like a mini voice recording of a note for yourself and you can make it remind you later" He explained

"Ooohh, You have alot of random notes"

"I do, mostly for things like go get shopping or do luandry"

"what's this one from... two am last week?" she asks

"Ohh don't-" He began but she had already clicked it

"Note to self... google if that thing is real... where you can get a couple of ribs removed... so you can suck your own di-" The phone said in clearly thomas' voice before y/n stopped it

"Thomas?" she asks

"Don't ever take my phone again" He warns stealing it from her and running off somewhere else in her house

"why did you need to look that up?" she laughs getting up to follow him

"Well you're not gonna do it" he answers from elsewhere

"You are such a baby" she laughs "I'll do it, you just have to tell me when you want it"

[sahidchettair]

MOTHER

Laji Varma was born in India. 

When she married Ajay Chettair, she knew it would get her to America. It was her one dream growing up. She had seen the movies, those that portrayed the United States for the perspective of her own country. And she had fallen in love. 

Ajay had family in the United States, a big family, and they would be welcome there, to start their own family. She was pregnant when they stepped off the airplane and moved into their small apartment in Atlanta, Georgia. Laji had learned English, and she was fluent at it, arranging everything around the house with the landowners and the movers. Meanwhile her husband got himself a job in a bogota. She gave birth to Sahid surrounded by his family, while the tv in the back of the room showed an American baseball game. 

It was all she ever dreamed of.

Sahid’s name was her first act of rebellion. She had lost touch with Hinduism long before he was born, she had grown out of it. The rituals had lost the shine they had in her youth, all of it was work and responsibility and she was tired of it. Ajay’s family was kind, but they too couldn’t bring back the love she once felt for it. 

Shahid Ajay, that was supposed to be his name. But Laji wanted him to fit in, wanted her little boy to be an American boy, even though he looked just like his father. So she called him Sahid Chettair. Use her husband’s last name, took away the original spelling. Something new, she told herself. 

Ajay wasn’t happy with the changes, but he was too in love with his little boy. He told him everything, and he would always be looking up at his father with wide-eyes. Whenever Ajay was at work, Laji would teach her son all about American culture. They would go to the movies together, eat ice cream, watch softball games. She would walk with him through the city and point out everything she loved. 

But when they would all be at home, she saw it was her husband’s stories that seemed to inspire him the most. 

She had been with family when the news came in. Women wept around her, men turned away from her, her own son continued to play with his cousins. 

But Laji didn’t feel grief like all the others. She had loved Ajay in her own way, she had loved his smile and she had loved his love for their son. But their marriage had been an arrangement, an agreement. She missed him, but she did not weep for him. 

With Ajay’s sister taking care of Sahid, who didn’t understand why his father hadn’t come home, she met Phill. He was on business in Atlanta, and like most men, had fallen in love with her at first sight. Laji had always been a beautiful woman, wearing a Saree of pink and gold that fitted her like a glove. It was the one Sahid liked the most. He would always take the pieces of fabric between his little fists and when she needed to put him to bed, she would have to pry his hands loose. 

Phill met her several times over a course of three months. They spoke English and discussed all the things she loved: the news, fashion, sports. He would listen to her and stare at her, he would make her feel seen. 

Four months later she agreed to marry him. 

Her family shunned her. Tried to take Sahid from her, hated the idea of this Christian man coming to take family away. But Laji was smart. This had been her dream, and she wouldn’t have them try and take it from her. 

-

She converted to Baptism and so did her son. Sahid didn’t understand what was happening, he didn’t understand it when she told him his father would never come back, and that Phil was his new father. He would look at her with those brown eyes of his and she understood he didn’t know anything. He thought Ajay would come back and tell them stories. So Laji took every reminder of him away from her son. No pictures, all new clothes, and everything reminding him of Hinduism and India would go. 

Slowly her new life settled in. No more sarees but beautiful dresses with flowers. She became loved in Wheeler. The men wanted her, the women envied her. She shone like the sun, she was a beautiful new flower, and she lived the life she dreamt of. 

But there was still Sahid. She told him his father died in a car accident. She lied.

Phil didn’t seem to be much interested in her son. He didn’t look at him like Ajay had, and she knew he seemed to be craving for that kind of attention. 

-

She would be home to greet Sahid every day when he returned from school, she would make him some tea and give him a cookie. He would tell her about school. Every day she noticed him grow more quiet. He would ask her why he looked so different from all the other kids at school. And she would tell him that he looked like her, and he was beautiful because of that. But she noticed the way he would look at other people. 

Phil had one son, one son that he loved dearly. His ex-wife had divorced him and made sure he didn’t get to see his son again. He had been forced to leave when his boy was only five, a year older than Sahid was then. But when his ex-wife was arrested and send to prison, Brandon had found a way to reconnect with his father. He was older now, fifteen years older than Sahid, and a beautiful young man. Dark skin and curly dark hair, but with eyes that pierced through everyone and everything. He had a look that could melt hearts, hers too. 

And she found herself looking for that in Sahid but not finding it. He just reminded her of Ajay. And she didn’t look at her like he would look at his father. And she would look at him and only be reminded of Ajay. 

Ajay who was not killed in a car accident but killed because of the color of his skin. 

But how could she ever explain that to him. He was so little now. The only Indian boy in town. She couldn’t explain that others looked at him differently because of his appearance. So she didn’t. 

Slowly she began to create a distance. She would talk with the other mothers, become a part of the community. Drink tea with them, or coffee, and spend most of her hours at the church. And more and more often Sahid would come home from school and find the house empty. 

But in letting go, Laji began to enjoy her life to the fullest. She was loved, and she loved in return. Phil brought her nothing but happiness. He would come by during his lunch, they would live a life of romance for years, even when she was growing older, he still brought her flowers every thursday. He would take her out for movies. She would draw him a bath, make him American Pancakes on Sunday mornings before church. She loved the way he looked at her. Ajay had never looked at her like that, and she found herself craving those looks. 

Meanwhile Sahid became lead alto, got average marks, was a good Christian boy. She did notice how he hung out with all the wrong kids. 

Sally Hawk, the daughter of a dead cop and a wife who had committed sucide, who lived at the edge of town with her grandmother. Her grandmother had refused to cut Laji’s hair so often that Laji had started to cut hers and Sahid’s herself. 

Franklin Johnson, whose father was a drunk and owned a farm where Sahid would often hang out. He bred horses, but he had farmhands who did most of the work. During the summer a lot of boys from town would work on his fields. Franklin got low marks and was held back twice. 

Theodore Newton had never known his father, his mother worked a few towns over as a prostitute, she let Theodore do whatever he wanted. He was exceptionally smart however, but his attitude wasn’t a great help. 

James Abbott was one of the most promising young men in town, but his parents were always trying to get him to stop hanging out with the others. He threw parties whenever his parents were away and got away with everything. 

Laji wanted to believe her son wasn’t like them, but she could see the way he looked at everything, she could smell the booze and the weed even if he tried to hide it as best he could. She knew something was off but she told Phil to leave it alone. He would turn out alright, she believed that much. 

-

Cassie was a miracle. She was a little ray of sunshine and she called her grandma. Laji would hold her and love her and take her with her everywhere. The whole world had to see her like she saw her. A precious thing, so small. With eyes like her father. She saw Phil in her as well. She loved looking at the little girl. 

-

Deep down she knew she was losing Sahid in the process. Deep down she knew that burying Ajay so deep meant he would want to find her. That he would want to try and regain this connection, that it would frustrate him that they never talked about him. That he would keep it a secret, that he wouldn’t tell her that he was trying to reconnect with him because she never spoke about him. 

But when she found him on the floor, performing some ritual she hadn’t seen in years, she was angry. 

She was angry because she had tried to give him an American life, something beautiful, something that would help him get a beautiful life. And instead he had looked back into the past. In that moment he had looked so much like his father that Laji didn’t know how to make him stop. She couldn’t make him stop because he wasn’t going to suddenly change. He hated how much of a reminder he was. 

So she told Phil he had to go. He had to go and he shouldn’t have any reason to come back. 

Phil took it way further than she had wanted him to, but by then Laji had stopped caring. By then she had created a hole in her heart where her love for her son had once been. 

-

The last time she saw him was at the airport in Atlanta. She had told Phil she wasn’t going to go, but she had to see him off. He was alone. Nobody had come to see him off. Brandon was in a bar, drinking his grief away. Nadia was at home, sending out the picture of Cassie on the internet, hoping somebody would’ve seen her. Phil was at work, working always helped him forget. 

Laji would normally be at the church, or with one of her friends. They would offer her kindness, grief with her, pray for Cassie’s safe return. Nobody mentioned Sahid, ever. 

And still she was there, watching from a distance, just another individual in the crowd. She saw him seated, glancing at his phone or the board frantically, worried he wouldn’t notice his gate opening. He wouldn’t look around, didn’t hear how busy the airport was. 

She did pity him. 

But she pitied him for what he had turned out to be, not for her part in it. 

He pitied him because he could’ve had it all. 

Instead he had made all the wrong choices. 

Some part of her wished he would find happiness somewhere else. The part of her that was glad he was going away, the part that hoped he wouldn’t return. 

[thejudgingtrash]

How Could You (PJO Fanfic)

Summary: Annabeth thought she had torn up every picture of him, that she had hidden every evidential piece of their relationship. Not only did it hurt losing your one true love. Knowing that they are successful, thriving and happily in love with another person made it even worse. Knowing you could have been that woman in your ex’s life. In Percy’s life. Rated T/M for adult themes.

H O W    C O U L D    Y O U    1/3

Annabeth Chase was walking to her workplace in Lower Manhattan. She clutched her coffee in one hand while the other pressed her designer bag towards her body – it's New York after all and you never know. Her blonde curls were hiding in a tight bun which made her look like any other snob on the small island.

The woman was in her early thirties and her career as an architect was finally taking off. Her boss let her hire her own secretary and gave her a thumbs-up for her own projects. She even had her own polished office while many of her peers were marching towards their forties and still stuck in cubicles. Her boss hinted offering her a senior partnership.

Annabeth ignored the catcalling and the loud car honking. Good morning to you too, NYC.

She was in luck, no pesky monsters in sight. Annabeth's trace got weaker with every newly completed birthday. Sure, she had to kill a monster here and there and even helped out new demigods, but it had been weeks of peace and quietness by now. Her heels led her to an impressing skyscraper. Mitch, the doorman, nodded and pressed the right button to the 34th floor. Annabeth took the last sip of her coffee right before her 10-hour shift. No one was waiting for her at home, she didn't have animals, plants or a man to take care of.

She had been single for the past few years, yes, but that didn’t mean she was living the celibate life of a nun. She had two or three relationships which never lasted longer than half a year, a couple of drunken flings and even a work affair which resulted in her colleague getting relocated to the office in San Diego. Gossip spread fast but also died out pretty quickly. But whenever she thought about a romantic relationship, or sex or even a simple friendship with another man, someone else haunted her thoughts immediately. Percy.

Annabeth chucked the crumpled paper cup into the trash bin and fired up her computer. She refused to think about her loner life, she refused to think about him. Eight hours and a one-hour lunch break later, her piercing gray eyes started to analyze her environment.

“I should redecorate,” she thought loudly. Her workspace had looked the same for the past two years. E-mails were checked, work was low, and no one would barge into her office. Her boss was already gone. She went through her desk, stacked papers, discarded notes and threw irrelevant stuff out. A picture slid out of a folder. Annabeth picked it up. It was a selfie of her and Percy; they were sipping cocktails, smiling into the camera, while the wind was playing with their hair.

Suddenly Annabeth grew a lump in her throat. They had a last happy small vacation in Montauk six years ago. A year later and everything was over. Percy looked good. Happy. He was way too handsome for his own good. His jet-black hair was long and unkept, his beard hugged his face perfectly and luckily through a well-chosen angle Annabeth had the opportunity of ogling his body one last time before shoving that damned picture into her bag. Her college friends used to ask whether Percy was a Greek model or actor or something like that. “He is basically a Greek God,” she always replied jokingly. But he gave that up. For me.

Her eyes started to burn; she suppressed a sob. No, not here, she told herself. Not in the office. Annabeth refused to cry. She threw herself into work for one last hour, revising designs for a new library in Queens before calling herself an Uber. Once she got into her new way too expensive West Village apartment and closed the door, the blonde began sliding down to the floor in the darkness. And there she wept for solid fifteen minutes.

“Fuck,” she cried. The daughter of Athena thought she had torn up every picture of him, that she had hidden every evidential piece of their relationship. Not only did it hurt losing your one true love. Knowing that they are successful, thriving and happily in love with another person made it even worse. Knowing you could have been that woman in your ex’s life.

Annabeth got up and walked through her messy apartment. She needed alcohol. Badly. Two glasses of red wine didn’t stop the tears from coming, however. No, they only made the suppressed memories come back even harder.

*****

Their relationship was a whirlwind. No doubt in that. And with the wind came cracks that slowly tore through the foundation. Sure, three big prophecies did bind them together. They went from kids to teenagers to adults, from acquaintances to friends to lovers. Their troubles and fun adventures, their bickering, Percy going missing and deep traumas from Tartarus kept them together. When their separation made its waves years later, they never would’ve thought they had ordinary adulthood partially to blame.

The fine cracks started to form when they turned 18. Looking back now, Annabeth knew someone was intervening from behind the scenes. Denying her own faults was something Annabeth couldn’t do. The choices Percy and she had made were followed by consequences.

The demigoddess desperately tried to convince Percy to go to New Rome with her. To live a happy normal life, to have a semi-normal college experience. A life without being chased by monsters, a life among their peers and new friends from the Roman side of the family tree.

But Percy refused. New York City was his home. His mother and his newborn sister lived there; he couldn’t just abandon them. It didn’t matter how welcoming the Roman side was – he was Greek through and through and he reminded her that the rest of the seven were merely acquaintances tossed together by a sick prophecy and not lifelong best friends. Camp Half-Blood would be his priority. Not Camp Jupiter.

So, they argued and decided. Annabeth grudgingly went to NYU and got her degree in Urban Design and Architectural Studies while Percy did his double degree in Pastry and Baking Arts and Culinary Management at the Institute of Culinary Education. It came out as a surprise to many other demigods that the son of Poseidon had enough of water. The Stoll Brothers were betting on either him getting a Marine Biology degree or becoming a high school coach. The duo lost a good chunk of money. But Percy wanted to help out his mother in her bakery and truly enjoyed her passion.

The couple moved together into their shitty tiny apartment as 20-year old’s. Their landlord conveniently forgot to inform them about a roach infestation and overcharged their rent each month. Annabeth woke up almost every morning to Percy hysterically laughing and picking up dead insects out of her messy curls.

Debt, school, more credit card debt, monsters, more college classes, demanding internships, roaches and annoying commands from the Gods of Mount Olympus dominated their lives. Frederick Chase and Sally Jackson tried to convince both of them to move into something better, they wanted to give them more money for something more comfortable. The couple remained stubborn and refused their money. Their romance and sex life were on an all-time low.

Is this really the life I want? Annabeth asked herself as she was watching Netflix with Percy. He fell asleep and started to drool a little bit. No, a voice in her head said. But she wasn’t sure whether it was her voice or someone else’s. You deserve better. Days passed and more and more doubt spread through Annabeth’s mind. Yes, I do deserve better.

Regrets about not leaving to New Rome popped up. Regrets about getting that specific apartment. Regrets about her recent thoughts. Regrets about questioning Percy. Regrets about not questioning Percy’s decisions enough. Tension spread and they began to fight. They fought about money, they fought about their future. They fought about California and New York. They fought about their career choices. They made up quickly and blamed it on exams and tests, but the negative sentiment remained for weeks. It wasn’t for another year when the demigod couple had a massive fall out.

Continue to read on Archive of our Own or FanFiction.net :)

[vulpesmellifera]

Fic Offerings of 2019

Ahhhh!!! I can’t believe the end of 2019 is here!

My goal at the beginning of 2019? Post six short stories and start posting one long fic. Instead, I posted 15 stories of varying length, and wrote the long fic, (two long fics, in fact), but it needs some attention I wasn’t really willing to give it in 2019.

And I’m okay with that. 

I expected to write Mystrade, and I ended up writing that plus Sherstrade, Johnlock, and Hannigram. 

Mystrade: The Longer Fics

The Tenth Muse - Two parts comprise this work, with 27,605 words between them. Mycroft sees things other people can’t. Lights, spectres, shades, demons, phantasms, and creatures that no one else can see. Voices no one else can hear. Colours eddying around people’s bodies, visible only to his eyes. It isn't deduction for Mycroft; it's a living nightmare that leads to self-imposed isolation. When Sherlock "dies," Mycroft finds himself reaching out for a golden slice of happiness, just one person to call his own in a landscape of horrors.

(On a lark, an absolute lark, I tell you, I wrote The Tenth Muse. In no way did I expect the reception it got, and I thank every one of you who read it, and left a kudos or a comment, from the bottom of my heart.) 

Craquelure - Two parts, 44,172 words. Part 1, To Capture Light, was actually posted in December of 2018. Part 2, Shaping the Negative, was posted this year, and takes up soon after where the first part left off. Mycroft Holmes had everything in hand: a powerful position in civil service to the Crown with the ability to affect politics across the globe, an impeccable taste in modern luxuries, and an iron-clad philosophy on life and how one should live it. He didn't expect it to shatter around him in a series of events facilitated by his siblings.This is the story of his rebirth.

(The reception to this one also included personal family stories from readers, and I treasure every one of you, particularly those among us who have suffered toxic family relationships, and have found our way out or above them. Part 3, The Hue of Loss, planned for 2020!)

Mystrade: The Shorter Fics

Woes of the Pharynx - Sickfic. Fluff. Humor. 844 words. The British Government felled by a cold. Oh, who could possibly take care of him?

The Petal Painter - Part of the #MystradeStoryTime series. Each part stands alone. 1,897 words. Gregorios is the beloved son of the Grain Goddess, safe and treasured inside her gardens. One day, he meets an alluring stranger dressed in black.

Marry Me - Part of the #MystradeStoryTime series. Each part stands alone. 1,684 words. Mycroft doesn't care for marriage; it's a vestigial organ on a modern society. Greg cares about marriage. Yet, he's never brought it up with Mycroft. That begins to chafe at the civil servant.

Sun-Bleached - Part of The Songs of Solomon series. Each part stands alone. 2,154 words. Sherlock would find curious things: the dried exoskeletons of crustaceans, hollowed out shells of mollusks, and one time, the sun-bleached bones of a little bird that usually nested along rivers. Alcedo atthis, the common kingfisher. That image never quite left my mind. Sherlock’s face like a bright beacon on an overcast day, the skeletonized remains of a bird that waved with his movements, held between two fingers. This is how I want Greg Lestrade: pinched between two fingers, a flag in the breeze, unshielded from the elements of me.

With Appetite - Part 2 of Imperfections Can Be Loved. Can stand alone. 2,937 words. Sometimes when he thinks of that fat little boy, he is reminded of the monster Charybdis. She was a fleshy thing with a gargantuan maw who was chained to the rocks on one side of a strait. She waited for passing ships, sucking down her prey in a voracious whirlpool before her neighbour Scylla snatched up too many of the sailors. He doesn’t have to wonder what it is, to be a despised thing that aches with appetite. Mycroft Holmes is a proud man, particularly when it comes to his work and his massive intellect. But for his new fiance, he thinks he can do better in terms of appearances.

Night of the Grey Mare - Christmas Fic with a touch of horror. 8,606 words. Every Christmas Eve, Mycroft visits the Watson-Holmes family to deliver a story to his precious niece, and share in a little of the mulled wine. This year, Rosie wants to hear something scary. Mycroft tells her a frightening tale of The Christmas Witch, and then takes his leave before Sherlock and John can enact their usual routine to make him feel unwelcome.The way home is fraught with unforeseen events and Mycroft soon finds himself in his own frightening tale of horror. Or does he?

Pillow Fights - Humorous ficlet. 821 words. Mycroft returns home early from a business trip to surprise Greg. Greg isn't the only one who gets surprised.

Pillow Fights, Redux - A different take, still a humorous ficlet. 952 words. Greg gets back early from a conference, to find Mycroft pining in a way he would never have thought.

Sherstrade 

[Deleted] - 10,400 words. Greg Lestrade and John Watson awake to find themselves locked in an unfinished basement. While they are well acquainted with one another, the two men aren't friends. But, the darkness has ways of bringing people closer together. Meanwhile, Sherlock and Sally must work together to solve the case of a missing John Watson.They're running out of time.

Johnlock 

Haunted -  Horror Fic. 22,369 words. Plagued by the past, John moves himself and his daughter to a new flat for a fresh start - and it's not 221B Baker Street. While he grapples with new knowledge and old guilt, he's confronted with odd neighbors and strange noises in the night. But is it the new flat, or is John Watson losing his grip on reality?

The Stars Upon Your Back - Part 1 of Imperfections Can Be Loved. 1,735 words. Sherlock prefers shadows to sunlight, his coat collar popped and his scarf wrapped about his neck like a hug. He wears bespoke because he’s trim, but he prefers to feel covered, and wears the dressing gown more often than not. The first time John Watson kisses him, he’s stricken. Sherlock Holmes is painfully aware of his ugly parts and his failures when it comes to John Watson.

Hannigram

Leftovers - Post-Canon Domestic Fluff. Basically, this is my headcanon for what Hannibal does with his leftovers. 1,311 words.  Will discovers that Hannibal has a soft spot for one other kind of creature in his life.

Aaaaannnnddd that’s all she wrote, folks! (Well, not all...but everything that got posted!) A Happy New Year to everyone! <3

Cheers,

Vulpes

[keichanz]

Costumes

Spooktober day 23: Costumes

The second the automatic doors slid open to admit them into the store, Tai took off with a childish squeal of delight, immediately disappearing within what seemed to be the endless racks filled with Halloween costumes.

Laughing at her excitable son, Kagome grabbed a cart and followed after him at a more leisurely pace as Izayoi trailed behind, her enthusiasm less than that of her brother’s. Unsurprisingly the Halloween store that popped up every year around this time was hopping with activity, children, teens, and adults alike roaming about looking at decorations, costumes, and all sorts of fun, spooky things to really get into the Halloween spirit.

Unfortunately, Izayoi’s spirit was nowhere to be found that day as she silently followed her mother and brother throughout the store. Or more like she followed her mom as she followed Tai; the five-year-old was having the time of his life trying on masks, exclaiming over every single cool costume he found, and announcing he found what he wanted to be but then changing his mind a second later as something else grabbed his attention.

Pausing next to a rack that held an assortment of brightly colored masks and accessories, Izayoi sighed as she plucked a headband with black cat ears attached to them. Her own ears twitched as she studied the faux appendages with an air of boredom before heaving another sigh and putting them back.

It wasn’t fair. She would have thought by that now that she’d at least have some idea of what she wanted to be, but because she had no idea what Raiden was going to be, Izayoi in turn didn’t know what to base her own costume on. After Rin had slyly coordinated her costume to match with Kohaku’s – Sally to his Jack – the young hanyou had gotten the idea to find out what her crush’s was going to be so she could sneakily do the same.

Thing was, though, either Raiden was being very tight lipped about it at school, or he simply wasn’t going to dress up for Halloween, because Izayoi hadn’t heard a single thing about it despite the month already being half over. And it wasn’t like she could just outright ask him.

Oh, yeah, she thought sarcastically, rolling her eyes. That’d go real well. ‘Hi Raiden! So I was just wondering, what’re you gonna be for Halloween this year so I can base my costume on yours and then I can pretend that it’s a complete coincidence that we match, oh wow, isn’t that just so convenient, EL OH EL.’

Izayoi snorted at her own thoughts and scowled at the innocent fake ears she’d put back as if they’d personally offended her somehow.

Ugh. It wasn’t fair.

“Hey, sweetie,” her mother’s voice drifted over to her and Izayoi turned her head to find her wandering over with a cart full of decorations and some kind of weird spider prop. Tai was still zooming between the racks, giggling and trying on every mask he could get his grubby little hands on.

“Find anything you like?”

Izayoi grumbled something under her breath and wrinkled her nose, ears lowering slightly on her head as she pouted and averted her gaze.

Kagome’s brows rose as an amused smile flirted with her lips. “Is that a no?”

Her daughter grunted and she reminded Kagome so much of her father it was a little frightening.

Humming in thought, Kagome surveyed the rack of masks and accessories and plucked off a standard black half-mask covered in glitter.

“Your brother wants to be Batman,” she remarked with a tiny grin and held the mask up to her own eyes. “How about Harley Quinn? I spotted a few different costumes back there if you wanna take a look.”

Izayoi sighed and took the mask her mother held out to her. “Maybe.”

Kagome frowned a little at the complete lack of interest in her daughter’s tone. “You okay there, sweetpea?”

When all the young half-demon did was sigh again, Kagome was about to ask what was wrong, a little concerned at her daughter’s behavior, but before she could open her mouth she heard her youngest child calling for her and it sounded like he was struggling with something. No doubt he managed to tangle himself up in another costume again so with a soft sigh, and one last worrying look toward her daughter, Kagome affectionately tweaked her ear, said to come get her if she found something, then retreated to go assist her son in whatever trouble he’d gotten himself into. Again.

Izayoi was still staring down at the boring black mask in her hand, ears low on her head and wondering if she should even bother anymore when suddenly a familiar scent teased her nose and an even more familiar voice rumbled in her ear.

“I don’t really think black is your color.”

Gasping, Izayoi spun around and stared into twin pools of laughing bluish-green.

“Raiden!” she said a little breathlessly, her face flushing as a shy smile flirted with the corners of her lips. “Hi! You, um, you scared me.” She laughed nervously and god did she sound like a complete dork.

“Sorry,” the young dog demon said with a mischievous grin, shrugging. “I figured those cute ears of yours would hear me coming.”

Izayoi made a strangled sound in her throat as her flush deepened and her amber eyes widened. He thought her ears were cute! It’s official she was going to die oh god she needed to talk to Rin RIGHT NOW.

Seeming oblivious to the reaction his words had caused, Raiden never lost his easy grin as his gaze dropped to the mask in her hand and deftly plucked it out of her grasp. His fingers brushed against hers and Izayoi felt a small spark of warmth that shot all the way to her toes as butterflies erupted in her belly.

“So, what’re you gonna be?” he casually asked, studying the half-mask briefly before turning his gaze to the rack behind her.

Willing her racing heart to calm and her face to stop blushing already, Izayoi cleared her throat and offered a shrug, half-turning to look at the rack as well.

“Oh, um, I don’t know yet,” she confessed, wrinkling her nose as she flicked a claw against the cheap plastic of a medieval plague doctor mask. “There’s just so many options, y’know?”

She laughed nervously again but when all Raiden did was hum distractedly Izayoi winced and mentally kicked herself. God, could she be any more of an awkward idiot?!

Before she could open her mouth again and either salvage her dignity by saying something incredibly smooth and cool or potentially make the situation ten times more awkward, Raiden suddenly grinned and reached behind her to exchange the half-mask for something else on the rack.

“Here,” he said and set something on her head, carefully arranging it so her ears weren’t compromised. “Now this suits you much better.”

Blinking as her face once again erupted into color, Izayoi could only stare in silence as Raiden dug out his phone and brought up the camera app before turning it around so she could get a look at herself.

“Whaddaya think?” he asked her, grinning proudly.

Izayoi gasped and lifted a hand to flutter her fingertips across the brown velvet of the steampunk top hat he’d set on her head. Complete with dark goggles attached to the front and a brown lacy ribbon wrapped around it, the young half-demon had to admit she loved the prop. The hat had little gold and silver gears sewn into the velvet on one side and the back had a trailing mesh tail that cascaded down her back. She was surprised at how well it looked with her silver hair and she had to admit, Raiden definitely had good taste.

“Wow,” she breathed, a delight smile spreading across her face as her amber eyes lit up. “This is...really cool. I like it!”

Proud, Raiden tipped her another grin and playfully tapped the rim of the hat.

“I have an idea,” he said, drawing her attention and Izayoi lifted her gaze as he put away his phone. “Your parents are having a Halloween party at the end of the month, right?”

Izayoi blinked and tilted her head. “Yeah...”

Raiden blinked. Wow, she was cute. Shaking his head, his confident grin reappeared as he said, “I don’t have any ideas for my own costume yet. Why don’t we coordinate and wear matching steampunk getups? We’d be the coolest couple there, hands down.”

Izayoi choked because he’d just called them a couple oh dear lord she was going to die. Or maybe she already died because was this really happening? Had she died and gone to heaven where all of her dreams were coming true right before her eyes?

Realizing she was standing here like an idiot while he was waiting for an answer, Izayoi nodded her head so fast it was a wonder the hat didn’t fly off her head.

“Y-yeah,” she squeaked, the smile on her face wide and probably a little creepy but she couldn’t help it. “That’s—that’s a great idea! Let’s do it!”

If she sounded a little too excited, Raiden didn’t notice, blue-green eyes lighting up in delight.

“Cool,” he said, infinitely pleased. “Alright, sounds good. Keep me updated then. You have my number, right?”

Izayoi nodded. She didn’t, but she’d force Rin to get it from Kohaku. Her birthday was coming up; maybe her parents would finally allow her to get a cellphone since she would officially be a teenager?

The dark-haired dog demon quirked another grin at her. “Good. Catch ya later, buttercup.”

Then with that, Raiden winked and twirled around to rejoin his friends who had, apparently, found the Star Wars costumes and were battling it out in the middle of the store with light sabers and one of them had the Darth Vader mask on.

With a dreamy look on her face, Izayoi watched him go, her smile soft and completely smitten. She didn’t even hear her mother approaching and was hardly aware of anything until the hat was suddenly taken off her head and she snapped out of her daze with a start.

Blinking and with a guilty flush, Izayoi looked up at her mother who was studying the hat in her hands with a secret smile on her lips. She glanced down at he daughter then toward the rowdy group of boys just over yonder, watching in amusement as one of them started chasing the others around with a terrifying looking spider decoration.

“Mom?” Izayoi said and Kagome turned her gaze toward her daughter, having a pretty good feeling she knew what she was going to say. The young half-demon’s flush deepened slightly and her amber gaze flittered to the group of boys causing a ruckus—or more accurately, Kagome noticed, one boy in particular.

“I...know what I wanna be now,” she admitted and Kagome recognized that soft smile on her face, the wondering tone in her voice reminding her of years ago when she herself had been completely smitten with one stubborn, foul-mouthed half-demon.

Face softening, Kagome smiled, genuinely happy for her daughter, and nodded as she carefully put the hat down in the cart filled with decorations and something else that was definitely not a Batman costume.

“Leave it to me, sweetpea” Kagome declared, already knowing exactly what to buy to make up her daughter’s costume. Steampunk, huh? She could work with that.

Izayoi smiled gratefully, glad to have such an amazing and understanding mom.

“Thanks, mom,” she whispered and received a brief ear rub in response. Feeling lighter than she had in days, Izayoi grinned, surveyed the contents of the cart—and her smile promptly faded to be replaced by a horrified look as she stared at something gross and bloody.

“I thought Tai wanted to be Batman,” Izayoi stated, blinking in wide-eyed horror. “That is definitely not Batman.”

Knowing exactly what she was talking about, Kagome sighed and it was the sound of a resigned parent. She wandered toward the aisles where she thought she’d seen various steampunk costumes and accessories, gesturing for her daughter to grab the cart and tug it after her.

“So did I,” Kagome murmured, flicking a glance at the child in question who was at the moment content to spin in circles wearing a Scream mask. Wrinkling her nose, she added, “The moment he saw it all ideas about being Gotham’s hero flew out the window and he begged me to get that...that monstrosity. I swear to god he becomes more and more like your father everyday. It’s terrifying.”

Izayoi shuddered. “Boys are weird.”

“Preach,” Kagome mumbled and reached to take down a brown leather waist cincher. Hmm...maybe this with an off the shoulder white blouse...

“Do you have any white stockings, Iz?” Kagome asked, reaching next for something brown that might be a skirt, but she wasn’t too sure. When her daughter failed to respond, Kagome looked over her shoulder and repeated, “Iz?”

Completely distracted, Izayoi was staring at a certain dark-haired dog demon that was laughing so hard at his friend he was doubled over and barely able to stand upright. The friend in question was wearing a princess costume a few sizes too small and was gallantly parading around in it, complete with a wig and tiara.

Kagome lifted a brow and drawled, “Boys are weird, huh?”

Unpredictably Izayoi flushed and her smile was gentle as she murmured, “Well...maybe not all boys.”

[mobius-prime]

211. Sonic the Hedgehog #143

The Original Freedom Fighters (Part 2)

Writer: Romy Chacon Pencils: Art Mawhinney Colors: J&A Ray

So it's time to find out just how the original Freedom Fighters were betrayed and lost. The guard at the Lake of Rings catches a ring and then lets Sonic and Hope watch the place for a bit while he delivers it to the castle, and Hope urges Sonic to continue his story, which he agrees to on the condition that afterward she'll let him go off to do his thing. One day when Sally was still young, Stripe was speaking with her and being kind when Peckers, who has the worst name by the way, burst in with some news.

That's right, they found out about the Zone of Silence years before the current Freedom Fighters did. They went into the palace on a mission to rescue the king, or at least to gather more information for a future rescue, but suddenly found themselves trapped within a room, with Scales leering at them from the outside and Robotnik stepping up beside him. Scales had apparently betrayed his teammates because he wanted power and also because it was "totally within his nature" as a snake, but true to form, Robotnik had some treachery of his own to enact, throwing a horrified Scales in with his fellows. Robotnik revealed to them that they were standing in his first room-sized roboticizer, before pulling the lever.

Oof. Uncle Chuck, still roboticized, saw the whole thing and had it recorded in his memory banks for posterity, but those in Knothole never found out what happened until years later when he regained his memory. All they knew was that their heroes had disappeared, and held funerals for them all befitting their status as heroes. The young Sonic was stunned and demoralized, as Stripe in particular had always been kind and encouraging to him, but ultimately the actions of the original Freedom Fighters were what inspired Sonic, Sally, and the others to form their own group and carry on the fight.

Now remember how I said this ties into something I've brought up before? I've talked many times about how the war against Robotnik has essentially been carried on the backs of literal child soldiers, but we've never really discussed why this came to be. Well, here it is. This is why. Remember that Robotnik's takeover came right on the heels of the Great War, with barely a few years at most separating the two wars. From Robotnik's perspective, he couldn't have picked a better time to stage a coup - the kingdom was weakened, and a lot of its best fighters had likely died or had to retire permanently due to injures from the previous war. Not to mention that a lot of people who could have helped in the current war were likely captured and roboticized in the initial fight before they had time to react - Robotnik would have known who posed the greatest threat to his rule and made sure the swatbots targeted them, and in addition, it's implied in the previous issue that Stripe was one of the only veterans who had the sense to run away rather than stand and fight. The original Freedom Fighters were basically all Knothole had left. And when they were lost, Knothole was vulnerable. Hope was in short supply. Hardly anyone had the ability or the mental fortitude to even try to carry on the fight.

And then this little band of orphaned kids rallied around the precocious princess, and took inspiration from those who had fought before them. These kids, most of whom were barely older than eight (and I'm not guessing at that number, it's literally confirmed later on in the comic that Sonic started striking back against Robotnik at the age of eight), banded together with the overconfidence of young children and put themselves in harm's way to save the planet. They grew up so surrounded by war that participating in it was second nature to them, and though each of them were hit with their own unique traumas from the things they'd seen and experienced, they kept up the fight, into their teens and into now. And like I've pointed out before, even now that many of the kingdom's adults are freed and willing to continue the fight for them, they refuse to give it up. Sure, Sally may be preoccupied with being active ruler right now, and maybe Rotor has retired from field duty to work on inventions back home, but everyone is still wholly invested in the fight despite their still-young ages. And that's both inspiring, and utterly tragic - especially considering that most of them aren't even self-aware enough to understand how awful throwing children into a war is. They just don't know anything different.

But anyway, as Sonic's story winds down, Hope thanks him and then rushes off, remembering her homework assignment for history and leaving an exasperated Sonic to guard the pool alone after all. The next day, she has her report all finished, and recites it in front of her class to much praise.

That is a great way to tie everything together, if you ask me. I'm sure it makes Mrs. Stripe and everyone else who personally knew the original Freedom Fighters happy to see the youth of today, even the youth of another species entirely, remember the sacrifice of those heroes.

Mobius 25 Years Later: Father's Day

Writer/Pencils: Ken Penders Colors: Jason Jensen

Are you ready, kids?! This is actually the best installment of this arc, period! It's relevant to the current conflict, it contains important character development, and a satisfying conclusion is reached by the end! I know, I know, I'm shocked as well. But my praise for this chapter is genuine, and you'll see why.

Lara-Su comes downstairs in the morning, wondering where her father is. It's hard to tell if this takes place shortly after her discussion with Knuckles last issue, or if this is the next day entirely or something, but either way, Julie-Su reminds her daughter of what day it is, which - well, I hardly have to tell you, it's right there in the title. It seems that on Father's Day every year, Knuckles visits the grave of Locke in the forest - it's been hinted at here and there that he's dead by the time of this arc, but this is our first clear confirmation of the fact. Knuckles drifts into memories, first of a conversation he'd had with Archimedes many years ago. They'd traveled to the crater in Downunda where Angel Island first lifted off after having spent several weeks together, and prepared to part ways, as Archimedes was planning to move here to Downunda permanently. Knuckles was somewhat baffled by his decision, having deep roots on Angel Island and being unable to relate to wanting to move somewhere else, but Archimedes pointed out that as Athair followed his own path, so must he, and so had Knuckles for that matter.

I think it makes complete sense for a slightly older Knuckles to have decided to end the Guardian tradition, given how much pain it has caused him over the years and how shady the whole operation could be. Archimedes said his goodbyes to Knuckles after telling him how proud he was of him, and Knuckles used his guiding star gem to head back home. Once there, he was shocked to find Lara-Le crying and distraught, and all she could manage to say was that something was wrong with Locke. Wynmacher called a cab and took them both up to the hospital in Echidnaopolis, where the doctors revealed to him that his father was getting weaker by the day and they couldn't figure out what was wrong. After some exploratory surgery, they determined that he'd developed pancreatic cancer and didn't have long left for the world, so a stunned Knuckles and Lara-Le were allowed to enter the room to speak to him once he'd woken up. From here, I'll let the next couple of pages do the talking for me.

I think this is literally the best thing Penders could have possibly written on this subject. I've pointed out how awful Locke has been many times, and one of my biggest criticisms of him was less about the character himself and more about how Penders handled writing him. Locke was based on Penders' own father, with whom he'd had a difficult relationship, and this colored his writing of Locke a bit for the worse. Locke was in many ways abusive, selfish, and distant from his son, and put Knuckles through hell for his own purposes. He was too shortsighted to see how this was affecting his son, and only when reality began to harshly and repeatedly bitchslap him in the face did he even begin to realize how badly he'd messed up. This has always been clear from the outside, but it's also obvious that Penders, naturally, wasn't keen on writing a character based on his own father as a bad guy, and the end result was Locke being portrayed in a bizarrely sympathetic light as he manipulated, spied on, and betrayed the trust of his son without any self-awareness at all. This scene is exactly what we needed in the light of all that - a scene where at the end of everything, Locke truly realized just what he'd done to the two people he loved most in the world, fully owned up and admitted to all his mistakes, and asked for forgiveness. He makes no excuses for his actions, instead laying it all bare and trusting them to judge him fairly on his own deathbed. I've said before that Locke would have been far more fascinating as a well-intentioned but too-extreme antagonist of the story, and ultimately this is exactly the kind of redemption scene I would have imagined for him at the end of said story. I may make fun of and even get angry with Penders from time to time, but I truly think that this is one of the prime examples of where his writing shines. He has great ideas, just often bad execution of said ideas. This is one time where he did it right.

Knuckles finishes reminiscing and comes back to himself in the present, standing in front of his father's grave, and begins to realize that in a way, he's been repeating the same mistakes that his father did with his own daughter. While Locke never gave him the choice not to become a Guardian, he's done the inverse with Lara-Su, never giving her the option of Guardianship at all. He decides that he's going to give her the choice after all, and thanks his father at the grave while Locke's ghost and Aurora watch proudly from the afterlife. And you know what? This is also a great scene! Because I 100% believe that Knuckles, after going through everything that he has, would want to end the tradition of Guardians and never put the island's fate on the shoulders of one person again. Let's face it, he's downright traumatized by some of the things he's seen and been through, and once he had a child of his own he'd want to protect them from going through any of the same things he did. And I fully believe that with that mindset, he could end up stumbling into the same "my way, no highway option" mindset that his own father had, just in reverse. He never realized just how his own hangups were affecting his daughter until he came here to meditate after all her pestering. And what makes this scene so great, ultimately, is that he learns from it. He doesn't continue down the manipulative, restrictive path that his father did, but rather opens up to the thought of listening to what his own daughter wants, and allowing her to make her own choices in life. This issue ends with a tribute to Penders' own father Kenneth, who lived from 1934 to 1982, and I find it a fitting end indeed. After all, for all my criticism, I can hardly condemn a person for wanting to pay loving tribute to their own parent. Good job, Penders - this issue's story was genuinely enjoyable, and I appreciate the work you put into it.

[stainedglassgardens]

Watched in April

Queen of Earth Black Christmas Dogs of Chernobyl Firecrackers Les Misérables The Evil Dead The Daughters of Fire (Las hijas del fuego) The Fallen Idol The Wailing (곡성, Gokseong) Inherent Vice Sorrowful Shadow Mistery Lonely The Grand Bizarre Zombieland: Double Tap Waves '98 Uncut Gems The Last Séance Too Late to Die Young (Tarde para morir joven) Room Queen & Slim The Holy Mountain (La montaña sagrada) The Chaser ( 추격자, Chugyeokja) Made in Dagenham The Color of Pomegranates (Նռան գույնը, Nřan guynə) Lost Girls Ghost Town Anthology (Répertoire des villes disparues) And Then There Were None Doctor Sleep Meshes of the Afternoon Circus of Books Catfish Wildling Delphine The Strange Love of Martha Ivers The Red Balloon (Le Ballon rouge) Nona. If They Soak Me, I’ll Burn Them (Nona. Si me mojan, yo los quemo) The Lodge Invisible Man Sans Soleil

Did not finish

Horsehead (Romain Basset, 2014) Sinister (Scott Derrickson, 2012)

Did not like

Sorrowful Shadow (Guy Maddin, 2004) Mistery Lonely (Harmony Korine, 2007) Uncut Gems (Josh and Benny Safdie, 2019) The Last Séance (Laura Kulik, 2018) The Holy Mountain (La montaña sagrada, Alejandro Jodorowsky, 1973) Doctor Sleep (Mike Flanagan, 2019)

Okay

Queen of Earth (Alex Ross Perry, 2015): The way it was filmed reminded me of The Midnight Swim and Always Shine. I watched it because Elisabeth Moss is in it but was rather disappointed in the end -- it was beautifully shot but went nowhere

Black Christmas (Sophia Takal, 2019): Like Assassination Nation, this is a film I'm glad young people today have -- and it was fine, and if there’s anything I’ve got to say about so-called raging feminists it’s that we need more of them, but yeah the ending was disappointing and I felt that I had aged out of the target audience a good number of years ago

The Evil Dead (Sam Raimi, 1981): Finally saw this! Love me a a good campy horror story once in a while

The Wailing (곡성, Gokseong) and The Chaser ( 추격자, Chugyeokja) (Na Hong-jin, 2016 and 2008): A healthy dose of wtf in both of those, I’m still not sure I “correctly” grasped the intended tone. I also just lost all interest in The Chaser when (spoiler) the girl died. What’s the point of that? Are we in Game of Thrones now? I may still be angry about that, actually

Inherent Vice (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2014): I know it’s a good film but it bored me to death. I don’t like stories about men or drugs

Zombieland: Double Tap (Ruben Fleischer, 2019): A sympathetic, slightly disappointing sequel

Waves '98 (Ely Dagher, 2015): I don’t remember much about this short but I did think it was good

Room (Lenny Abrahamson, 2015): I couldn’t watch this as separate from the book, it felt more like a companion film to me than anything else. It was good I think, but I’m definitely not the best judge on this one, because the book was so amazing and I’m still not over it, apparently

And Then There Were None (René Clair, 1945): Was it good? Who knows. They changed the ending and added in a crap love story, so who cares, really

Wildling (Fritz Böhm, 2018): I liked it? I didn’t really see the “feminist themes” in this but it was good

Delphine (Chloé Robichaud, 2019): This is one of those short films that are a little too “slice of life” for me to really enjoy. I can tell it’s good, tho

The Red Balloon (Le Ballon rouge, Albert Lamorisse, 1956): This is apparently a classic short film, and I think I would have enjoyed it a lot had I seen it in 1956. Seeing it today, when everything in it has been used in a hundred thousand other films, made it fall flat a little

Nona. If They Soak Me, I’ll Burn Them (Nona. Si me mojan, yo los quemo, Camila José Donoso, 2019): Watched this because it was directed by a woman! Did not know what to expect at all. The non-linear narration kept me trying to remember if there was something I could possibly have skipped that would have made more sense of it. I think the premise (old woman throws Molotov cocktail at former lover’s car) is better than the finished product, although it is very well-shot and the acting is amazing

Good

Dogs of Chernobyl (Léa Camilleri & Hugo Chesnel, 2020): Short documentary that had me on the verge of tears several times (you can watch it for free on YouTube!)

Les Misérables (Ladj Ly, 2019): It’s hard to talk about films like these. It is very good, very important, I think everyone should watch it. Think a new La Haine

The Daughters of Fire (Las hijas del fuego, Albertina Carri, 2018): Loved the reflection on pornography. The pornography itself was a little more... boring... but I appreciate the intention, and the guts it took to shoot something like this

The Fallen Idol (Carol Reed, 1948): An amazing British classic (adapted from Graham Greene!) that I had somehow never heard of. Great acting, especially considering the main character is a small child

Too Late to Die Young (Tarde para morir joven, Dominga Sotomayor Castillo, 2018): There will be people in this world to say that "uhh nothing happens in this film", a statement to which my reply will be twofold: first, it's beautiful so who cares, and second, how many other films have you seen that take place in a commune in the 1990s in Chile? That's what I thought. Shut up

Made in Dagenham (Nigel Cole, 2010): Films like this and Suffragette, that is, mainstream films about the working classes and political activism, are almost bound to be flawed, but I'm grateful they exist all the same. And how many of those have we seen that are about workers’ unions, with an all-female main cast, and nuanced dialogue about communism and the place of women in the home and of men in feminism? I’m glad that male directors have finally figured out that one of the best ways to avoid showing a one-dimensional idea of women is to have lots of them in one film. And Sally Hawkins! I love her

The Color of Pomegranates (Նռան գույնը, Nřan guynə, Sergei Parajanov, 1969): Another one of those classics I had never heard of (until I got Mubi!). Indescribable, beautiful

Lost Girls (Liz Garbus, 2020): Really liked the speech at the end about the police failing the victims and their families, really liked that the old inspector guy wasn't made to be someone who was on the side of the victims instead of on his own side. Bleak, sobering. When I watched this I didn't know Garbus was the person who directed that Nina Simone documentary, which I also love.Will definitely seek out more Liz Garbus in future

Ghost Town Anthology (Répertoire des villes disparues, Denis Côté, 2019): I watched this not knowing anything about Denis Côté or the film, and I loved the atmosphere even before the supernatural element really kicked in. Films like this and The One I Love or Everything Beautiful is Far Away are my kind of low-key science fiction

Meshes of the Afternoon (Maya Deren and Alexander Hammid, 1943): Aaaand another classic I finally saw! It just warms my heart to see that stuff like this was being made (by a woman!!) in the 1940s

Circus of Books (Rachel Mason, 2019): I saw a headline calling this “the queer Stories We Tell” and I loved Sarah Polley’s documentary and wouldn’t go quite that far but I can see where it’s coming from. A good autobiographical documentary about the complexity of families

Catfish (Henry Joost and Ariel Schulman, 2010): I think everyone going into this today knows what this is going to be about, but let me tell you, it does not reduce the impact

The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (Lewis Milestone, 1946): Barbara Stanwyck and Lizabeth Scott! Murder! Intrigue! Love and sleaze!

The Lodge (Veronika Franz & Severin Fiala, 2019): This was so efficient. It is so well-done, and Riley Keough is amazing as usual. More subtle than Franz and Fiala’s last effort, Goodnight Mommy, and at least as good

Sans Soleil (Chris Marker, 1983): It’s hard not to be disappointed by this after hearing every film bro I’ve ever met describe this as his fave ever. It is... pretty racist and sexist... but yes, very pretty, very nice if you can get past that

Faves

Firecrackers (Jasmin Mozaffari, 2018): Is this a coming-of-age story? Anyway it’s about two working-class teenage girls in small town Canada who are this close to making their dream of leaving for New York, and one of them is fuuuuucked up...

The Grand Bizarre (Jodie Mack, 2018): I think this is what I want from a non-narrative documentary. I’m tired of seeing pretentious Godfrey Reggio knockoffs. This quite simply blew my mind and is one of those very rare films I can see myself rewatching ten times

Queen & Slim (Melina Matsoukas, 2019): I can’t not compare this to Natural Born Killers and Thelma and Louise, both of which I used to love and haven’t seen in a number  of years -- but Queen & Slim is quite possibly better than both of those. The tone, the breadth, the acting -- even the soundtrack. It’s a masterpiece

Invisible Man (Leigh Whannell, 2020): This is about a man who creates an invisibility suit. This is also about a woman who is being stalked and abused by a controlling man who just won’t rest until he has completely destroyed her -- but of course, since this is cinema and the woman in question is Elisabeth Moss, she ultimately beats the shit out of him. This was very difficult to watch for me but I’m glad I stuck through

*

I got Mubi this month! So glad I did. It’s so much better than both Filmstruck (RIP) and Amazon Prime. I like that choices are made for me up to a certain extent -- and those choices often turn out very good, and always interesting. And yes, we’re still in lockdown, I’m still unemployed, hence the number of films watched this month. Hopefully we can get out in May and I’ll end up watching less!

[leelee10898]

Fast cars & Freedom: ShadowBoxer (4/?)

Summary: Ellie gets blast from the past. Logan amd Ellie have thsor dinner, but will it go well?

Pairing: Logan-x-Ellie, Colt x Ellie

Rating: Mature

Song inspiration:

Ellie paid the driver and got out, her eyes taking in the familiar sights.  It had been a long time but she would always remember this street. She turned around slowly noticing her destination, a sign that read TC Automotive where Kaneko Auto Body used to be. New owners  she thought to herself as she took a deep breath.

********

Ellie sat in the in the booth of the diner somewhere in Eastern California, the events of the past few weeks playing over and over in her head. She had ditched her prom dress grabbing a change of  clothes at Riyas. Colt stopping and buying something quickly. “Were gonna get through this Ellie, don't worry.” He placed a reassuring kiss on her forehead, she rest her head on his shoulder. “How can you know that colt?  These people are unhinged, we could be dead tomorrow. I want to live Colt. I'm not ready to die” she sniffled.

Colt knew this was eating her up, he needed to find some kind of a distraction, anything to make her happy, to take away all the fear and pain. He needed her to be happy, it was as if he survived on it.  He looked around the small diner, a guy sitting at the counter, his shirt reading viva las Vegas. “Have you ever been to Vegas?” she lifted her head “What? With everything going on you're seriously asking me if i've been to Vegas?”

She walked into the shop, not seeing anybody around, nobody manning the desk, nobody anywhere. “Hello?” she yelled as she walked around. She looked at the desk some papers strewn about, some car parts. The place reminded her of Kaneko's garage,  the new owners obviously rebuilt it a bit more modern but appreciated the older feel of a garage. Her eyes landed on a postcard from Vegas. Her mind taking her back to a night that she would remember the rest of her life.

“Ah yeah, I am. So have you?” he smirked, he loved seeing her get railed up, it was cute the way she scrunched her nose up. “NO!”

“ok, it's settled. Were going.” he jumped up reaching for her hand. She grabbed it as they climbed on his bike. “Where are we going colt?” She asked as she put on her helmet.  “Vegas.” he smirked as he shut his helmet kicking his bike to life.

******

“sorry miss. How can i help you.” she turned towards the voice. “Oh just picking up my car.”

A huge smile formed on her face. “Toby?”

“Oh my god. Ellie belly is that you? You're all grown up.” he ran lifting her up into a spinning hug. “oh my  god hold on x is gonna get a kick out of this.” he ran towards the hall “Hey X. X, come here. You're never gonna believe whos here.” ximena came out a huge smile plastered on her face. “oh my god sweetheart, how the hell are ya?” she pulled her into a crushing hug. “Eck. X. Crushing. Me.” she grunted as ximena let her down. “I'm not sorry, it's been too long honey.”

They stood there talking about Ellie moving back. Toby and ximena travelling together, coming back this way once they heard someone opened a shop in the same place, and ended up working there again. Toby went to look for her keys and couldnt find them. “Hold on, I bet the boss has them.” “Hey boss, can you bring the keys to that Honda?” she heard someone shuffling around in a room off the back before emerging. Toby and ximena said they would catch up with her later.

“ C- Colt!” Ellies heart dropped in her stomach as she came face to face with him. After 6 years the sight of him still lit a fire in her. “Here are your keys miss. You should be good to go. Also, you should probably get a new car seat those may not be safe after an accident.” He kept his face fixed on the paper in front of him. Ellie felt the tears start to well up in her eyes. He couldn't even look at her and acted like he didn't know her.  “Th. Thank you.” her voice trembled, immediately irritating her. Why should she be upset, he's the one who left without saying goodbye.

She snatched the keys out of his hand and storming off to the lot to get her dad's car. How dare him, after 6 years he still had the power to make her swoon to pissed in a matter of seconds. She marched out to the lot getting in her dad's car. She let out a long irritated scream,  all of her frustrations boiling over. She turned the key, the car roaring to life. Something in her snapped as she peeled wheels out of the lot. She caught a glance at colt propped against an open bay door.

She couldn't understand how someone she hadn't seen in 6 years could piss her off so bad. She took the long way home, hoping to calm down before getting there. She arrived home, Luca barreling towards the door. “mommmmmy.” All of Ellie's frustrations and fears instantly melting away upon seeing that sweet smiling face. “Hi baby. Oooh I missed my sweet girl. Did you have fun with grampy today?” she lifted her up, wrapping her in a hug.

“Yup. We went to the park. Grampy made a friend. Her name is sally.” ellie eyed her dad. “He did?”

“uh huh, they are going to have dinner on Saturday night.”

“Ooooh kay. That's enough of that little miss loose lips. How about you go watch some tv while grampy helps mommy with dinner.”

Luca jumped up and down with excitement before running into the living room.

“How was your day?” He asked Changing the topic. “Nope. Na ah. Were starting with you. You taking my daughter to pick up chicks?” she eyed her father.

“what? No. I would never, ellie.” she chuckled “Dad im just playing with you. I think it's great you have a date.” she hugged him. She knew he hadn't really dated much since her mom died, and the fact he felt comfortable going on a date now made her so happy.

“Speaking of dated. I have one tomorrow night.” her father looked at her confused.  “With who?”

“Logan.”

She spent the entire work day thinking about her dinner with Logan. Was it a date? Was it business? Whatever it was she felt the butterflies in her stomach, no matter what happened she knew one thing for certain she was telling him tonight.

She raced home getting ready in a hurry, Riya picked Luca up since her father had card night with some of his old police buddies. She wore a white and champagne colored v neck midi dress. She tacked her hair up in a braided updo, she looked in the mirror her nerves getting the best of her when she heard a knock at the door.

Logan stood on the other side, Ellie stood there a minute admiring the man before her. He had sure grown up, still with that toned body but he was bigger than before. He wore a pair of khakis and a button down shirt. “You look beautiful Ellie.” He finally broke the silence. “Ah. Beautiful you too look.” he cocked his brow amused by how flustered he made her. “I mean, you look nice too Logan.”

“These are for you.” He held out a bouquet of wild flowers as She let him inside. “Thank you. These are beautiful. Let me go get a vase.” she came back quickly and they headed out for dinner.

They sat at the table sharing stories of the past, and laughing.  She missed how easy it was with Logan. They were headed somewhere she had thought and then she found out he used her to get information about her father's investigation.  She had already had feelings for Colt, but she would be lying if she said that didn't play a factor in them becoming even stronger.

A silence settled over the table and Ellie took her chance to try and back out of becoming his accountant. “Logan. We need to talk about me being your accountant. I dont think its a good idea.”

“Ellie, we have been over this time and time again. I trust you, besides it's a done deal.” Logan casually sipped his beer.

“You might not feel that way after you hear what I have to tell you.” He arched his brow.

“ok El, what is going on?”

She shook her head “not here, can we go?” He grabbed the check, paid and the valet brought his car around.

They drove to a parking lot, Ellies nerves a wreck. “Ok, whats up Ellie. You know whatever it is,  you can just tell me.”

She took a deep breath, it was now or never. “Logan I am a mom. I. I have a daughter.”

“Oh.” His eyes widened at her confession. “So you have a kid. I don't see what's so bad about that Ellie.” he chuckled.

“That's not the bad part.” she started to fidget in her seat. “Her. Her name is Luca. shes. She's 5.”  Logan sat there Quiet. She could see him doing the calculations in his head. “Logan?” she spoke softly, she couldn't take all the silence.

“Five? You were in college then. Did you meet someone there?” She shook her head no. He swallowed hard, his throat becoming dry. “What.  What are you saying, is. Is she mine?”

The tears started to spill, silently. “Im, not sure if she's yours or Colts.” She hung her head ashamed. “I'm so. So sorry Logan. “ she said through sobs. After 6 years of being alone, raising her daughter alone she finally was one step closer to finding Lucas dad.

“Hey. Hey. Don't cry Ellie.” He wrapped his arms around her tightly.  

“How can you be so calm? I just told you there is a possibility you have a child.”

“I know. I'm not going to lie Ellie, I am kind of freaking out. But what good is it going to do if I flip out?”  he took a deep breath “You did it on your own?”

Ellie told him about finding out in school and trying to get in touch with both him and colt, both numbers disconnected. She had her dad look for them, but turned nothing up. Eventually she just resolved herself to raising Luca alone. Logan apologised, he left town for a little while, he came back once the brotherhood was dismantled completely. It was then he enrolled in night school and took a job with a racing company.  They drove back to her house in silence. Logan leaned over giving her a hug. “It's gonna be ok El, we will figure it out. Can I.” He cut himself off, hesitant to finish.

“Can you what Logan?”

“Do you think I could meet her?” Ellie stared at him shocked “Ah. Well. I think that is ok. But, and don't take this the wrong way but.  I don't want to tell her you may be her dad. Not until we know for sure.” Logan nodded “I'll follow your lead. It's gonna be ok Ellie, no matter what,  i'm here for you.” he wrapped her in a tight hug, placing a soft kiss in her cheek.

She got out of the car, waving as he drove off. She turned to head to her house when she caught sight of someone standing across the street. “Really Ellie, him? Of all people why him?”

“Not that I have to explain anything to you but, it was a business dinner.” She snapped. “what do you want colt?”

“What do I want? It's been 6 years and you show up in town like nothings wrong.” He followed her up the walkway.  

“Oh, so you do know me? Because yesterday you couldn't even look at me.” She seethed, turning to face him.

“Oh I know you alright.” he snorted.  “ how could I ever forget you Mrs. Kneko?”

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[scatteredenthusiasticwriter]

Rag Doll

Sarah sat on a flat back chair from the 1800s and her elbows were resting on an antique dining table from the 1900s. Her long brown hair hung down, covering her face, while she scrutinized a cameo brooch trying to date it for a client. Antiques acquired over the years surrounded her with history. Sarah was so involved inspecting the brooch she didn’t hear the bell ring when the door to her little shop opened.

“Dr. Miles?” Sarah looked up and her face emerged as her dark black hair parted. Her glasses had a magnifying glass attached to each lens. Standing before her was a tall, lanky man wearing a black suit. He looked like a G-Man from the Prohibition Days. “Dr. Sarah Miles?” Sarah nodded in acknowledgement.

“My name is James Murray. I am with the law firm Finch Bellows Marten. I am sorry to tell you this, but, your uncle Benjamin Miles passed away a few weeks ago. The reading of his will is tomorrow at noon at my office on the corner of Main and 5th. I apologize for the late notice.”

“I am surprised my Uncle Benjamin included me in his will. We didn't speak to each other for years. We were at an estate sale years ago, engaged in a fierce bidding war for a rare seventeenth century vase. He won the bid. I never forgave him,” directing her attention back to the brooch.

“I am sorry to hear that. Your Uncle’s three children will be in attendance also," reaching the letter out to her. Sarah accepted the letter and tossed it towards the pile of unread mail teetering at the edge of the table.

James Murray turned and walked towards the door leaving Sarah mumbling to the brooch. He then exited the shop.

Sarah reached for the letter and opened it with a dagger shaped letter opener. The letter said, Sarah Miles is named in the will of Benjamin Miles. We ask that you attend the reading of his last will and testament. 

Could he be leaving me that vase? Curiosity got the better of her and decided to attend the reading.

     # # #

“It’s noon, shouldn’t we start? I can’t wait around to hear what the old man left me,” Lydia stated while pacing.      

“That’s if he left you anything. Dad told me I will always be his favorite, even after he’s gone," Elizabeth said. 

“Enough from the both of you vying for the top position. What does it matter? The fact is he’s gone, never to return, thank God," stated John.

James Murray shifted papers, uncomfortable with the conversation. There was a knock then the Sarah stepped inside. The three cousins looked at each other, mouths agape. Making no eye contact, Sarah walked to the back of the room and sat down.

“What the hell is she doing here? I thought this was a private reading for family only," Elizabeth bellowed.

Lydia agreed adding, “You’re not family. When was the last time you saw or spoke to my father? Ahh yes, it was at that auction where you lost out winning the vase. It looks very nice on Dad’s mantle.”

Sarah shifted in her seat hoping this would be over soon.

James began,“Today we are reading the last will and testament of Benjamin Miles.” 

John interrupted, “Skip all the legal gibberish and get to the bequeathed part.”

James inhaled, then exhaled, “I, Benjamin Miles, being of sound mind and body do bequeathed the following. To my daughter Lydia, I leave her a set of china that belonged to my great grandmother, and $5,000. To my daughter Elizabeth, I leave my rare collection of bottles, and $6,000. To my son John, I leave my Volkswagen Beetle and $1.00. To the local museum I leave all my antiques. To my niece Sarah, you never forgave me for winning the bid on the seventeenth century vase.  I am giving you that vase along with my curio cabinet and any and all items contained within.”

“Wow, I thought John got cheated. Looks like Sarah wins the prize for the most cheated. I have no doubt you will research that cabinet to death," Lydia said. 

“Hopefully your PhD in History pays off. Maybe there is hidden treasure inside," laughed Elizabeth.

# # #

Sarah instructed the delivery men to place the curio cabinet against the wall in the living room. Sarah tipped the movers and escorted them to the door, locking it behind her. She stood in front of the dark wooden cabinet, her fingers gliding along every smooth inch. When Sarah opened the framed glass door, something jumped on her shoulder and propelled into the cabinet, sending tingles of fear down her spine. Milo, you silly cat, get out of there before you scratch it. Milo sniffed and pawed at a spot in the center of the shelf, until Sarah pulled him out. What did you find? Using her fingers, as though reading braille, she glided them around. She discovered an indent, circular in shape like a quarter sized button. She pushed down on it. Without warning, the bottom panel of the cabinet shot open hitting both of her shins, causing her to yell and jump backwards into Milo, sending him running. There were stories going around the antique community about a handful of curio cabinets, built in the1800s, having secret drawers. Her smile broadened as she gazed upon at. 

The drawer contained a skeleton key, an old newspaper dated 1878, and a rag doll. The headline read, The Town of Goldchester’s Mysterious Illness Targets All Its Young Girls. The next story was about a young girl named Sally Monroe who died in a gold mine collapse also in Goldchester. Sarah read when the town’s people dug her out, she was cradling her rag doll, fingertips bloodied and black. She fully opened the paper and an envelope fell to the floor. It contained a deed to a house in Goldchester, Arizona. 

# # #

The cab driver waiting outside of Sarah’s shop honked twice. Sarah emerged juggling her suitcase and a well worn brown leather briefcase. The driver placed the suitcase in the trunk and reached for the briefcase. “I got this one," Sarah insisted then sat in the backseat. The briefcase held the skeleton key and the deed. The cab driver shrugged his shoulders. He closed the trunk, got into the cab and drove Sarah to the airport.

The plane landed with a thud, startling her. She set her watch back two hours to adjust the time difference from Massachusetts. She exited the airport and right into Arizona’s dry heat. A cab pulled in front of her and she got in, instructing the driver to take her to the Goldchester Bed & Breakfast. After a twenty minute ride, the cab slowed and pulled over in front of a two story building with a wrap around porch and a two seater swing. Sarah tipped the driver and collected her suitcase. She climbed the three creaky wooden steps and entered the Bed and Breakfast.

Sarah hit the gold bell on the counter. From the back appeared a stout woman wearing an apron covered with flour. 

“Welcome. You must be Sarah Miles. I’m Haddie Wilcox. Been expecting you.Your room is ready, handing Sarah the key. Second floor, first door on the right. Dinner is at 6:00pm sharp," Haddie said returning to the back.

Sarah climbed the stairs and entered her room. She placed the suitcase on the bed and headed back out to find the Town Hall, briefcase in hand. Unsuccessful in her search for information, Sarah walked the few blocks to the house. She stood in front of 111 Miners Circle, a quaint little blue two story house with a white picket fence and white shutters.

Sarah used the skeleton key to unlock the door. She stepped inside to find the entire bottom floor completely furnished with white sheets covering each piece. Sarah removed the white sheets from a couch, two Queen Anne chairs, and a writing desk she dated around 1825. She spied a curio cabinet in the corner, her eyes widening in disbelief. The curio cabinet looked exactly like hers. Sarah walked over to the cabinet and opened the glass framed door, thankful there was no cat this time. Sarah glided her fingers across the shelf, discovering the indent. This time she stepped back as she pushed down on the button. The bottom panel opened, just like hers, revealing the same newspaper, but this time it contained a gold key. The room turned cold as ice. An even colder breeze circled around Sarah, causing her to shiver. Sarah snatched up the newspaper, the gold key, and threw the rag doll into the briefcase as she ran out of the house.

Haddie, and her young daughter Laura, were waiting at the table when Sarah rushed in, out of breath. She apologized for being late. Haddie smiled and passed the chicken and gravy. After dinner, Sarah and Haddie retired to the living room to have coffee.

“Haddie, back home I found a deed and skeleton key in a hidden drawer inside the curio cabinet I inherited from my Uncle Benjamin. I went to Town Hall today for information but the house doesn’t have much history. The address is 111 Miners Circle, so I went there and to my surprise, the skeleton key opened the door. Inside I found a curio cabinet, just like the one back home, that has the same hidden drawer. It too contains the same old newspaper with the story about Sally Monroe, who died in a gold mine that collapsed. When they dug her out she was still cradling her rag doll. The rag doll in both papers looks exactly like this one". Sarah held the rag doll out to Haddie.

Haddie gasped, “Did you say your Uncle’s name was Benjamin? Benjamin Miles?”

Sarah nodded. “Oh my, his grandfather, your great grandfather also named Benjamin was the one who found Sally. Story has it that Benjamin was more of a grandfather to Sally than her own. She would visit often to see the rag doll inside the curio cabinet. During one visit Benjamin gave Sally the rag doll. Oh, how she loved that doll.  After the funeral, Sally’s mother gave Benjamin the rag doll back as a reminder of Sally. Shortly after Sally’s death, young girls in town began getting sick with strange symptoms. The girls complained of a heaviness on their chest.  Their skin dried like a mummy’s skin and their fingertips turned black. Each girl cried out for their doll while gasping for air. No one could figure out why each girl cried out for their doll before they passed. The town lost every young girl that year.”

Sally asked, “Was the cause ever discovered?” Haddie shook her head.

The following morning, Sarah walked back to the house, taking her briefcase containing the rag doll with her. As she approached the house, she thought she saw faces staring down at her from each window. Sarah entered a bone chilling house. All the furniture was upside down, the white linens rolled and twisted into a large rag doll. Sarah’s briefcase started shaking. She opened it and watched the rag doll convulse. She shut the briefcase with shaking hands and ran for the door. As she reached for the handle the door slammed shut. She heard children’s laughter and running overhead. Sarah’s curiosity overshadowed her fear. She stood tall, and after taking a few long breaths that could be seen, she climbed the stairs. The doors on the second floor opened and slammed shut repeatedly, all except for one. Sarah approached the unopened door when something touched her, chilling her to the bone. 

“What do you want?” Sarah shouted. The landing swayed throwing her off balance. She tried to run but the stairs got further away with each step. Her chest felt like a heavy weight was on it, causing her to fall, then her finger tips turned blood red, then black. Sarah watched in horror as the skin on her arms shriveled, shrouding her bones. She began gasping for air as she cried out, “Sally stop.”

The walls heaved as though breathing. The door in front of her swing open revealing a blinding light. At its center a silhouette appeared. Sarah attempted to get up but the weight held her hostage. The silhouette glided towards her, the blinding light blown out like a candle. The white silhouette swayed like a sheer curtain in the breeze. Sarah watched as more silhouettes came into focus. Young girls now encircled Sally.

Sally’s face began to distort, blood red eyes glowing. She ascended, weightless arms outstretched, and with a deafening scream, demanded her Maggie be given back. Sally plunged down onto Sarah pinning her in place. The girls were now screaming for Maggie to be returned. Sarah nodded in fear, hoping they understood. Sally rose, allowing Sarah to get up. She ran down the stairs, but, at the bottom Sally blocked the path, her distorted face aflame. 

“I have your doll. Please, let me get it.” Sarah pleaded. 

Sally glided aside. Sarah ran to her briefcase and pulled the rag doll out. Sally was instantly upon her and snatched the doll from her hands and began cradling it. Sarah watched as Sally and the girls rejuvenated into themselves again.

They motioned for Sarah to follow them upstairs. The once closed door now opened, revealing a white light bright as a star. Sarah watched as each girl entered the light, waving goodbye as they disappeared. Sally remained. 

“I am so happy to have Maggie back. I missed her so. I took the young girls from town to help me find my Maggie. You brought Maggie home,” Sally said with a contented smile as she walked to Sarah and kissed her on the cheek. Sally made her way towards the light. As she entered, the light folded into itself engulfing Sally, then darkness. 

Sarah went downstairs and noticed a glow coming from the corner of the room. It was the gold key. A faint voice whispered in her ear, “Go to the painting of your family.” 

Confused, Sarah walked over to a painting of her great grandfather and Uncle Benjamin. This is my ancestor’s house? She tried to take the painting off the wall then noticed the hinges. She pulled the picture aside, revealing a wall safe. Sarah used the gold key to open the safe and was flabbergasted at what was inside.

# # #

The wall safe contained some of the gold Sally’s father mined. He gave it to Sarah's Great Grandfather Benjamin as a way of thanking him for trying to save Sally. The gold was now worth $500 Million.

The cork popped off of the Dom Perignon hitting the ceiling then bounced back in front of Milo. He jumped and ran. Sarah raised her Champagne filled glass thanking her uncle. 

“I guess I was your favorite after all.”

[notyourdeadgirlfriend-a]

♠ parents

send me a ♠ to have my muse talk about their parents

WARNING: the post ahead is very long, and very triggering. almost nothing in maggie’s life hasn’t been touched by tragedy, including her parents, so keep that in mind as we dive in.

SALLY EVANS (née BENNETT)

❝ i don’t remember much about my mother, to be honest. she died when i was very young.❞  

that’s what she always said when the topic came up, and by now she’s repeated it so many times that she almost believes it herself. it’s not like anyone would dare to press further – the implication of those words weighs heavily upon everyone like a wet blanket, just on principle. maggie usually takes advantage of the awkwardness of this situation to steer the subject away – but recently, there’s been a part of her that is yearning to talk about it, if only a little; a desire to seek solace in the catharsis of sharing what she’s walled up for so long.

the decision to open up is not a conscious one. one might call it an impulse, but as unusually candid as it appears, maggie has long felt the shadow of her mother haunting the furthest corners of her mind, buried but not forgotten – and how could she ever forget sally evans? her father’s sunshine, as he called her, his muse; her self-sacrificing mother, always chipper despite the pain and so strong, strong for herself and for her husband and her daughter, even though she was the one who suffered the most.

❝ i can’t remember exactly how old i was when she passed. those days when she was sick – they’ve all blurred together in my mind. nor do i remember her face very well, save for pop’s sketches.❞  a sad sigh is paired with a halfhearted smile. like mother, daughter too had a tendency to hide her pain behind upturned lips and dismissive scoffs.

❝ it’s the little, insignificant things that i remember: the way she bustled around the kitchen like there was a bee in her bonnet, the soft fabric of her skirts when i would hide under them, the smell of tobacco on her breath. and the sound of her coughs – all my life she had this awful, chronic cough.❞  she pauses, drawing a deep, shaky breath. there’s pain in discussing such a morbid subject, one which she’s tried hard to push from her mind, lest the imagery resurface in her nightmares.

❝ it’s difficult to talk about, but, uh….my mother, when she was working as an accountant, went up one day to the company building. and i don’t know how it happened, but something started a fire, and she couldn’t get out….❞  

she wrings her hands nervously, an unconscious attempt to relieve the tension that’s building inside of her.  ❝ she didn’t die there – the firefighters came and saved her life – but she breathed in so much hot smoke that her lungs were permanently damaged. she lasted a few years after that, but the cancer came not too long after. and then it was just a matter of time, really. just a matter of time until she slipped away.❞  she presents this all as a matter of fact, trying her best to remain composed, but it’s impossible for her to ignore the lump at the back of her throat, nor for her to conceal the deep, introspective sadness reflected in her eyes.

❝ i just wish i had gotten to know her better.❞

SAM EVANS

❝ my father – now, there’s a man i could talk at length about.❞  she chuckles, a pleasant bout of laughter accompanied by a real smile, though it’s one that just barely reaches her eyes. unpleasant memories may taint everything and everyone she loves, but pop, for the most part, was one of the brighter spots. comparatively, anyway.

❝ he was the local, eccentric artist – every small town has at least one – and he absolutely loved what he did. painting was his heart and his soul. my mother used to joke that he’d leave her for his paint brush. ❞  her tone grows wistful.  ❝ he used to make her the subject of every painting. plopped her right in the middle of a landscape, or in a sailboat out on the sea. he loved her so, so much, and she did everything for him – and when she died, he didn’t know what to do with himself.❞

a soft sigh accompanies an unconscious bite of her lip, her smile beginning to fade.  ❝ he never painted her again after she died. i can understand why. i think he realized the futility of it all – all of those painted images of her that he had around the house, they just reminded him of what he couldn’t have. you can’t grow old with a picture. you can’t confide in a sketch. even the finished ones are really just faint outlines….❞  like ghosts, she wants to say, like ghosts of a person. it dances upon the tip of her tongue, but she stops herself. there were too many ghosts already populating her mind, and she does not wish to linger on the thought.

❝ not a lot of good happened to pop after that. he turned to the bottle and got drunker and drunker, and it was all i could do to keep him from self destructing. i think he would have, if it weren’t for me being around. he tried to keep himself together around me for my sake, but i knew what he was sneaking off to do. i could smell the booze on his breath, and see the shame in his eyes when he’d return home.❞

maggie has always been quite candid about her father’s alcoholism, but going into detail was immensely difficult. they had fought that demon together, the two of them – so many of her battles have been left untold, packed away in the far corners of her cluttered mind. how could she linger upon them, really? she didn’t want to remember the pitiful moans of her father in his withdrawal induced shakes, his weak cries following her as she combed through the fridge for his beer, his medicine. nor did she wish to recall the sinking feeling in her heart when he stumbled through the door in the early morning hours; the hopelessness she felt when he would blow his entire commission down at the bar; the tears that flowed while she hovered over him in the hospital, sick with worry, when he drank too much. of the three times sam evans had been admitted to the hospital, the first two were to have his stomach pumped. but horrible as it all was, her tumultuous childhood pales in comparison to what she’s been through since; his suffering was but an anecdote in the world of trauma that maggie has experienced. 

she continues,  ❝ he went blind, seemingly out of nowhere –❞  now, she strongly suspects that there was some kind of magic involved, but she has no concrete proof of it,  ❝ – and it tortured him, that he couldn’t paint anymore. that was a very cruel joke for the universe to play….me and joe, bless his heart, we tried our best to take care of him, but he was just broken. and how can you blame him?❞  her voice is cracked with sadness, eyes glistening wet despite herself. she raises a shaky hand to her eyes, slender fingers wiping away the tears that threaten to spill. this was recent, even more so than barnabas; the wounds were still fresh, and oh, how they stung.

❝ somebody broke into our house, and tore the whole place apart, and my pop….i found him sprawled out on the floor in a pool of his own blood, beaten to within an inch of his life.❞  voice trembles ever so slightly, though given the subject matter, her composure is remarkable.  ❝ he lasted until we got him to the hospital, but he didn’t make it through the night. ❞

she waits a moment, allows what she’s said to sink in. it’s all terribly shocking, and terribly tragic, and she’s well aware of how traumatic all of it sounds. funny how utterly normal it all feels for her, how numb to the violence she’s become over the years. 

❝ – but i don’t like to remember him that way, that enfeebled old man he became. whenever i think of him, it’s the happier times. and there were a lot of those – he had this natural amiability about him, and this booming laugh that was infectious. he felt too much, and he cared too much. i don’t think he could bear the full brunt of his emotions – and good feelings are a rarity in this town. he had to numb himself to it all.❞  and that much she understood implicitly.