#Autumn and Winter are not death and desolation okay?!

[yuureimajo]

someone: "I like Spring and Summer ... " me: "Cool, cool, most people do, yes." someone: "... but Autumn and Winter are awesome too!" me: "!! Hell yeah they are!" someone: "There's lots to appreciate in these seasons too." me: "So true, so true." someone: "People should learn to appreciate the beauty in bleak desolation!" me: "... Now wait a minute - I guess that's also true but -" someone: "Even though Autumn and Winter are nothing but death and emptiness, I still like them!" me: "Please ... please stop ..." someone: "#goth #witch" me: *agonized screams*

[wandabear]

WISH YOU WERE HERE - WANDA MAXIMOFF X FEMALE READER

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Summary: 17 years ago, a New Jersey high school girls’ soccer team travels to Seattle for a national tournament. While flying over Canada, their plane crashes deep in the wilderness, and the surviving team members are left stranded for nineteen months.

Jules is portrayed by Adelaide Kane. Here.

chapter warnings: smut, angst, death, violence, blood, mentions of abuse. Please, as I said before, this is going to be harder on this and the next chapters. And this one is... doomcoming. I'm responsible for letting you know that, but if you don't like that, you can choose not to read it. ㅤㅤ

I must clarify again, all of them are 18 years old or more. Lots of characters will not survive, that's it. That doesn't mean I hate them or I don't like them.

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CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN FINALE

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCHAPTER SIX: DOOMCOMING

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BEFORE

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Despite the fact that the deer hunt had brought good vibes to the girls and full bellies for about three days, the days that followed became more difficult.

They thought that perhaps luck would still be on their side, but the arrival of autumn and soon winter made it more and more difficult. Some animals migrated to warmer places, leaving them without hope.

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“Here you go.”

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With a look of desolation, they all looked at their plates, completely fed up and disgusted. It wasn't smiles and fun anymore after weeks of being lost.

Y/N thought that the disgusting stew her mother used to cook right now seemed like an exquisite culinary masterpiece.

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“it's all we got, we're saving some deer meat left for tomorrow.” Wanda explained as she sat down with her friends.

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They all began to eat 'what they had managed to get' and although it didn't seem to make them happy, at least it kept them alive for one more day.

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“Okay, I can't do this anymore.” Carol complained exhausted, setting the plate aside. The blonde caught everyone's attention when she got up to go get something in the corner where she was sleeping and approached them, leaving a huge glass jar with a purple liquid.

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“What is that?” Y/N frowned.

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“It was some berries I was trying to save, but…” Carol sighed and opened the jar.  “I think it might've turned into booze? I don't know about the rest of you, but I could use a drink.”

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They all watched intently, completely interested in the idea of forgetting everything for a while.

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Natasha raised an eyebrow.  “Do we think it's safe?”

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“Do we care?” Jules shrugged, smiling kindly at Carol who just nodded, grateful to have her support. Things between Nat and the brunette hadn't been quite the same, and everyone was starting to notice it.

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“I have a few more.”

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“If we have booze, let's have a party.” Jennifer exclaimed and some of them giggled, even though things weren't too bad, they couldn't afford to lose their spirits.

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“'Cause we've got so much to celebrate.” Sharon rolled her eyes.

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“Do we need a reason?” Y/N got up from her seat and looked out the window. Some clouds in the distance said that the most difficult time would soon begin. In summer, that place was spectacular, but winter? It was a subarctic place, definitely if they didn't find them soon, the girls would start to suffer more or even die. “If they don't find us and we don't forage for food to get us through the winter, we'll be dead. I say we party now.”

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“There's a full moon tomorrow night.” Wanda added maybe a bit excited, which was very cute.  “And it's almost Homecoming.”

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“We packed dresses, right?” Jules said interested in the idea of drinking and forgetting about that damn place for a while.  “For the awards dinner?”

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“There we go.” Y/N put her hands on her hips, willing to make this moment something different and not let her spirits die. “We have dresses, we have booze. We can decorate.”

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“Have a sort of... moon homecoming.” Wanda smiled, looking at Y/N. The connection between her gazes stole her breath.

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“More like a doom homecoming.” Pietro scoffed but Wanda quickly nudged him.

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Jules chuckles softly. “A Doomcoming.”

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Some of them chuckled, but they all seemed to agree.  Even Sharon agreed saying: “Now that's a party idea.”

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“All right. Doomcoming.” Natasha patted her leg and got up, although she wasn't entirely sure, drinking a little and losing your mind for a while wasn't bad at all.  “Tomorrow night, we'll drink rotten berries and celebrate our impending death.”

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They all cheered and whistled, ready to relax for a night at least. Not knowing that in the attic, a man was growling just listening to them.

Grant Ward looked at himself in the mirror, those dark circles and his weeks messy beard made him look more careless.

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He didn't even care, what he did care about was seeing that part of his leg was missing. Chopped. Feeling like there was no future, and his future as a real coach was gone when he lost his leg. Seemed to be drifting further and further from reality.

They were all doing their best to make the night the best. Some were in charge of decorating around the cabin, using pieces of cloth, colored stones and flowers, as well as huge dry leaves.

Others used some candles, wild animal bones, and also made torches to make the evening special.

In a few hours, they would be having the fun they deserved.

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“Сука!” The girl muttered between teeth, after winning the battle with her suitcase that seemed to be stuck. Natasha smiled when she finally opened the damn thing, looking through her stuff. All the girls were outside so she took advantage of using the kitchen to be alone.

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Nat exhaled in relief when she saw that fabric, was starting to think she lost it. Her dress, the one Melina bought for the awards ceremony; the redhead finally smiled wistfully.

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“Hey. What are you doing?”

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Jules's voice made her close the suitcase quickly, looking up.

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“Just trying to open this.” Natasha sighed, perhaps a little more exasperated than she expected to show. “What's going on?”

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“I- umh, they are all doing this kind of pairing tonight and…” Jules licked her lips nervously, walking up to face her.  “Will you go with me to the party?”

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But she didn't get an answer, Natasha just sighed deeply.

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Why the hell had she thought that maybe there was hope of having something with Nat? Nat never gave her a sign, she just used her to have sex and nothing else, that was the deal between them. But Jules didn't give up, expecting Natasha to realize her feelings. It was useless, that would never happen.

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Jules just shook her head, smiling sadly.  “Oh, it's okay. I get it.”

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“You know I don't do that.” Nat raised an eyebrow, then looked down at her suitcase, unable to keep her gaze on it and not feel guilty. “That's not what we had and you know it.”

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“I know. It was really dumb.” The raven haired girl exhaled and then turned to leave the kitchen, trying to hide her teary eyes.

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While in the back of the cabin, hiding from the other girls, Wanda giggled as she felt how Y/N kissed her neck slowly, hands settled on her hips but never crossed the limits.

The tender and sweet kisses began to gain a passion that increased more and more.

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“You ever think about what we'd be doing if we hadn't crashed?” Wanda asked once they separated, making sure no one saw them.

Not because either of them felt embarrassed, not at all, but they wanted to keep something unique together. Something nice between just them.

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“Like, we'd be going to so many parties?” Y/N joked and adjusted her shirt. Maybe if she thought about what would have happened, they would both be in some nice hotel celebrating or even being just 'friends', without daring to get close.

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“Yeah, I-I guess.” Wanda smiled and shrugged, thinking about 'what could have happened' could become painful if you let yourself go. “I don't really think about it.”

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“Well, all I think about is you.” Y/N responded completely in love, leaning in to kiss her lips once more.

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“What if this is it, Y/N?” The brunette wrapped her arms around Y/N’s  neck, lost in those eyes that she liked so much.  “Everything we did, uh, everything we didn't do.”

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Y/N didn't know what she meant, just decided to listen to her girl's concerns.

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“I'm not gonna die a virgin.” Wanda sighed deeply, ready to make that decision, Y/N just widened her eyes.

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“What?” Y/N babbled, of course she understood correctly but that was quite surprising.

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“I wanna be with you.” Wanda's cheeks blushed, looking even more adorable. “I wanna be yours. Please.”

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It was an important decision, but the truth was that they were completely crazy about each other. Y/N would be lying if she said that she hadn't dreamed and fantasized about it many times, especially when the kisses became more and more passionate and needy.

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“Are you sure?” She caressed her girlfriend's cheek gently, and Wanda could only imagine being touched that way under her clothes.

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“I’m so sure.” Wanda bit her bottom lip and then smiled excitedly.  “Tonight?”

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Smiling as well, Y/N nodded.  “Tonight.”

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It was a date.

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“So…” The raven-haired girl began as they both finished decorating an arch with some branches, flowers and strips of cloth. “I have seen that you disappear from time to time. Strangely, Wanda is not here either.”

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Jules smiled mischievously.

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Y/N looked at her sister a bit nervous but then she just shrugged. “Yeah? Weird…”

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“I’m not stupid, Y/N, but the team haven't noticed yet.” Jules murmured as they finished the arch, making it perfect for everyone to go through. “Are you happy?”

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Y/N hesitated to answer but then she understood that she was one of the most important person in her life. How not to tell Jules the truth? “Very happy.”

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They both smiled, keeping that secret.

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“That's all I want.” Jules leaned in to place a kiss on her cheek. “I want you to be happy, sweetie. And this place is... I don't know how long we'll be alive, so enjoy.”

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“I love you.”

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“Love you too, Y/N/N.”

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They sat down for a moment to rest and talk about Wanda and her, but after a few minutes, they noticed that Carol was coming towards them. ㅤㅤ

“Hey.” Carol approached slowly, almost as if she was afraid or something. She had something in her hands that quickly hid, looking at Jules. “Can I ask you something? I mean, can we talk?”

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They both eyed her curiously, Jules nodded. “Shoot.”

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“Alone.” Carol said so fast and looked at Y/N out of the corner of her eye, who narrowed her eyes without understanding what was happening there.  “Please?”

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“Okay, weird, got it. I will go to wash myself in the river and for my clothes.” Y/N got up from her seat and looked at them somewhat confused before leaving. ㅤㅤ

“What is it? Are you okay? Is about the berries?” Jules finally asked, not understanding what was so important or secret that Carol wanted to say.

They were friends, teammates, but they had never been close. Carol was a somewhat crazy, funny, kinda grumpy sometimes, but she was a good teammate.

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“Yeah, I guess, in the mood for a burger.” She joked and they shared a laugh. “How are you?”

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Jules had an endless number of responses and none of them were too positive, but she just decided to fake a smile.  “I’m okay.”

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“I've noticed you've been a bit down lately.” The blonde pursed her lips and came over to help light the torches.

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“This place doesn't make me feel very good, but it's all we've got.” Jules swallowed.  “I'm starting to appreciate it.”

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“You're not doing your makeup and looking for what to wear like the girls over there.”

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Watching her out of the corner of her eye, Carol noticed that the brunette lowered her gaze, something happened. Of course. “I was thinking… you know…”

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Jules looked at her, she'd never seen Carol so nervous.

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“Some of the girls are going in couples or- or pairing to this ‘doomcoming’ and- I want to…” The blonde seemed to have trouble saying it, but even so she took courage and said it: "Would you go with me?”

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Danvers was asking her. Carol fucking Danvers, wild one, love for leather jackets, Top Gun and bad reputation.

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“I thought you would go with Valkyrie.” Jules frowned, but she wasn't going to deny that she was quite flattered.

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“Yeah, she's my friend but… I kinda… kinda like you too.” Carol handed her a pair of yellow daisies, a tiny bouquet. “…So?”

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Perhaps one of the cutest gestures Jules had ever received and never expected to come from fucking Carol Danvers.

What to say? ‘No, I'm waiting for Natasha to reconsider and come over.’ But the truth is that Nat wasn’t going to do it, the russian would never accept anything more and Jules' feelings would never be reciprocated.

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“I would be happy to go to the doomcoming with you.” Jules smiled tenderly and nodded, taking that flower. It was a pretty yellow daisy, the kind that grew near the lake.

She smiled, not out of courtesy this time, especially when Carol beamed and nodded quickly, excited.

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“Yeah? Awesome! I’ve to go, I left the booze alone and I should go back...” The blonde turned to go get dressed and get ready, but not before saying: “I told you someone was going to invite you, remember? Before the pep rally.”

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And she was right.

Wanda sighed and looked at herself in the mirror once more, couldn't even remember the last time she was so nervous.

Dates with Vision no longer that exciting tension, and although this time it was just a simple reunion in the middle of the forest, it made her heart pound fast.

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Natasha went into the attic and noticed how Wanda was struggling to close the zipper of her dress, so she came closer. “Come here, I’ll help you.”

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“Thank you.” Wanda smiled kindly and turned around.

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“hey, you look beautiful.” Nat told her with a kind smile and then reaffirmed it when Wanda turned to see her.

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“Would you help me braid it? My hair, I mean.” Wanda sighed and watched as her hair had fluffed up a bit due to the lack of hygiene items.

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Natasha agreed and they both went to the window so they could enjoy the sunlight, or the few minutes that were left of it.

They were chatting for a while until Wanda noticed that one of backpacks was open. She frowned, no one touched her stuff. Especially the bag where the girl collected the mushrooms and stuff she found in the forest, many could be toxic.

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“Hey, do you know if anyone searched my stuff? The bag where I keep the mushrooms is open.” She looked at Nat with some concern. “The ones we shouldn't eat.”

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“I have no idea, I just know that Carol was making the booze but I didn't see any mushrooms.” Nat frowned, finishing combing Wanda's hair. “Maybe some girl was looking for makeup?”

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Not very convinced about that but really hoping that it would be so, Wanda just nodded.  “Yeah, maybe.”

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Each of the girls met at the arch and ‘crossed it’ together. Between friends or couples, no one was ever alone. Even Pietro was encouraged to ask Monica, who accepted gladly. Yelena and Kate went together, the archer wearing a black suit -that Pietro gave her because her dress was torn- while Yelena a pretty blue dress.

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Y/N looked at herself once more in the old broken mirror and then left the cabin to walk towards the arch. She was wearing a beautiful black dress, they all had pretty flower crowns, her hair was loose.

But Y/N’s smile grew even more when she saw Wanda shyly approaching her. The brunette was wearing a beautiful dark scarlet dress, her hair was braided to the side, surely Natasha helped her. Y/N knew that she should say goodbye to her heart forever now.

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“Woah, you look…” Y/N searched for the exact word with which to define her but it was impossible, she was much more than all that. Feeling captivated just by seeing her, that beauty left her breathless.  “You look amazing. Beautiful.”

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“Thank you.” The blush made her look even prettier if that was possible. Wanda held out her arm.  “Shall we…?”

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“Let’s do this, gorgeous.” Y/N took her arm and they both crossed through that arch, listening to how their friends cheered those they were coming. They all laughed happily, imagining that it was a nice event at school.

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But once Wanda and Y/N walked through the arch hand in hand, they all cheered and smiled happily as they joined the round around the campfire.

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“Are they…?” Kate asked, smirking.

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“Duh.” Pietro responded, watching them happy.

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Being under everyone's gaze, they both turned to look at each other. And leaving any fear behind, Wanda took Y/N's face and kissed her. So bravely, her heart had no room for fear.

The cheering and happy laughs from everyone warmed their hearts, not realizing that an evil gaze was watching them from the attic.

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The last ones were Carol, who was wearing a black suit and her blond hair loose, making a perfect contrast. Next to her, Jules was wearing a dress of the same color, with some touches of lace.

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They all seemed happy too, except Natasha, who from her look seemed quite surprised and hurt to see them. The only one to notice this was Y/N.

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“Let the Doomcoming begin!” Jennifer yelled hitting a pot, starting that party. They all cheered and raised their glasses before trying some of that drink.

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“Oh, now we just need a DJ to pump up the volume.” Jules made a face as she tasted the drink, which while it wasn't the best, at least it was something.

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At that moment, Y/N took out her portable player from her pocket and held it up high, saving everyone's spirits. “Here's your savior, losers! Worship me!”

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“But dude, your battery will die tonight.” Kate pouted.

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“I know. I've been saving it for a special occasion.” Y/N just shrugged and approached Yelena, together they tried to fix it so the echo would make it louder.  

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They all squealed again and jumped with excitement when ‘Genie in a bottle’ one of the songs of the time, began to play.  They dance through the choreography completely, remembering for once that they were just teenagers. For one night, they all danced, laughed and drank, leaving behind all the bad things and enjoying themselves. Not knowing how hard tomorrow would be.

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Everything was going well until the player started to fail, until it ran out of battery in the middle of the party. They all began to boo and silence embraced them again.

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Y/N took  the device and the battery was definitely dead.  “Thanks my friend. You've come a long way... Yep, it's dead.”

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“That’s sad… We missed the slow dance.” Jules scrunched her nose.

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“There used to be a graying tower alone on the sea.” Kate began to sing, making the others laugh, but little by little they all joined in singing that slow song.

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Carol didn’t hesitate to take Jules hand and begin to dance slowly, without realizing that the russian seemed to annihilate her with just her gaze.

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“May I have this dance?” Y/N held out her hand to Wanda, playing  a bit to make her laugh, and of course, she succeeded.

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They both danced slowly while their friends sang. Wanda closed her eyes, trying to imagine that she was at the school homecoming, surrounded by everyone, finally with the person she truly wanted.

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“So… is this what a high school dance feels like?” Y/N murmured with a small smile, noticing how Wanda looked up to see her.

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The sokovian bit her bottom lip.  “I guess so.”

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“You look beautiful, Wands.”  Y/N leaned in to peck her lips and then moved away when the girls stopped singing because they were busy drinking.

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Wanda smiled as she took Y/N’s hand, moving away from everyone a bit. “Aren't you going to drink?”

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“Nah, I don't wanna drink too much… my mother is an alcoholic.” Y/N shrugged, trying not to lose her mind as Wanda fixed her shirt collar. “You?”

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“I think one sip was enough.” Wanda scrunched her nose. “I don't want to despise that ‘expensive’ berry liqueur.”

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“Hey… You want to get out of here?” The taller girl leaned in to whisper in her ear.  “I have something for us where you know.”

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That whisper made Wanda feel a chill down her spine, her body tensed exquisitely. They both knew exactly what that meant.

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“Oh, my God, yes.” Green eyes that sparkled with desire.

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Y/N smiled mischievously, leading her by the hand away from the party.

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And the party went on for quite a while, until things started to get weird.

Natasha, who was standing in a corner watching that everything was okay, noticed that many of them began to laugh excessively and stumble. While the drink seemed strong, Nat found the girls' behavior quite strange.

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The redhead approached to see the jar and noticed that they had almost drunk it all, but what surprised her the most was seeing some pieces of something strange at the bottom.

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Natasha thanked that she didn't tried that thing.

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About to reach in to remove it, Natasha stopped when she heard Jules voice, laughing out loud and sensually dancing to Carol, not caring too much who saw her. Back to the jar, Nat confirmed that they were mushrooms. The ones that Wanda was looking for in the afternoon.

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“Hey. We have problems.” Natasha quickly approached to them, trying to get the attention of both but neither seemed interested. The brunette seemed interested in watching her hands in the air and moving, Carol was interested in her.

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“Oh, god. Look at these...” Jules muttered gawkingly, grinning when she finally discovered the stars, Natasha frowned quite worried.

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“Jules, listen. We need to find Y/N and Wanda, I think someone poisoned all of us… With shrooms.” Nat looked around to see who was missing, besides her friends. Neither Pietro nor Ward were there.

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“You mean, like, shrooms-shrooms?” Jules chuckled and rolled her eyes, not even seeming to care too much about what she was saying. “Oh, god, this feels so good.”

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All her senses were clouded when Carol placed her hand on her lower waist, pulling the girl closer. Jules seemed to enjoy it which annoyed Natasha enough to get in the way.

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“Can you listen to me for a fucking moment?”

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“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You look like a tree. Like a really hot tree.” Carol  buried her face in the brunette's neck, making her moan.

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“Hey, enough, let her go.” Natasha finally pushed Carol away, making her stumble and fall to the ground. But Carol couldn't even get up, she just stayed babbling nonsense, lying on the ground in the craziest astral journey of all.

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“Fuck, this doesn't make sense.” Natasha just walked towards the cabin to look for the others.

“Guys, doesn't Natasha look like a tree right now?” Carol asked and they all started laughing.

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“She kind of does, looks like fire too.” Jennifer babbled and moved closer to the torch, reaching out her hand to feel the heat but not burn herself. They all found something to loose themselves or just dropped on the floor.

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“Shut up. You all shut up.” Slowly Jules began to come to her senses even while completely drugged. She stopped, holding on to one of the trees. “Someone drugged us.”

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“I feel weird. I don't like this.” Kate blinked rapidly, looking down at her hands. Her hands were no longer hands, they were hawk claws.

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“Shh. Do you feel that?” Jules swallowed, trying to hear through all the screaming. She narrowed her eyes, something was speaking to her, an almost imperceptible whisper.

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“I think I do, like... energy coming up from the ground.” Yelena lay back on the ground, sinking her hands into the earth.

Jules whispered: “Something is coming… It says we won't be hungry much longer.”

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Yelena laughed out loud.

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“She needs help… Can't you hear it?” The brunette covered her ears, trying to concentrate but they just kept going in that madness. Without further ado, she walked to the cabin to take the axe.

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Hand in hand, Y/N and Wanda arrived at their special place, smirking. Y/N borrowed some candles, of course they surely wouldn't notice the lack of these with the party going.

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“Y/N, this is… ” Wanda couldn't even finish.

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Y/N lit some old candles, they had some blankets on the grass and the most romantic atmosphere that both of them could imagine in such a situation. In the distance you could see some fireflies hanging around, making the moment even more special.

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“I found these yesterday, had to hide them well.”  Y/N pointed to a small bowl with some berries, not many but enough to share. She'd had a hard time hiding them among her stuff without Jules or Nat noticing.

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“You’re the cutest.” Wanda smiled widely, the way Y/N made her feel was so unique and so pure. She never thought someone could show her so much affection like that, even having so little.

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“I just… I want to make you feel good.” The girl sighed deeply, feeling so nervous. She cleared her throat before going on.

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“I’m in love with you… Ever since I met you, I haven't stopped thinking about you. When you came from your country, you sat at the back of the classroom. You didn't talk much.” Y/N took Wanda’s hand, inviting her to sit next to her.  “You had those adorable braces, and your glasses… which I love how you look with them.”

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Wanda just blushed, adjusting her glasses.

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“I love everything about you.” Y/N finished this little love speech before sealing it with a soft kiss.

ㅤㅤㅤ That promise became real, that night was special. Slowly, both of them took off their clothes carefully. Though desire was there and the need made their skins burn, patience was an exquisite addition to this moment.

The first time Wanda made love, leaving all fear and prejudice behind.

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Y/N made sure that every touch made her feel safe, just as she also made sure that Wanda felt at ease by giving her pleasure.

Holding her, Y/N helped Wanda move her hips quickly looking for the third orgasm. Her fingers completely saoked from the humidity of that tight sex, asking for more. The way her hand cradled Wanda's breasts perfectly, or how their lips met before coming together.

The way Wanda's lips ran over Y/N's belly, kissing and biting the area to make sure it was hers. It didn't matter if it wasn't Y/N’s first time, she knew that this was the most important one. ㅤㅤㅤ

She didn't know how to do it, the sokovian had never even seen those pornographic TV channels or magazines like the cabin ones, but Y/N taught her every place she had to touch until Wanda knew her completely.

Her tongue ran through Y/N’s sex and she knew perfectly well that she just had to let herself go, devouring her girlfriend completely.

ㅤㅤㅤ

No one had ever told Wanda that this was a trap, giving pleasure to Y/N also caused her exquisite pleasure.

The first time together, one of the most perfect of all.

They both put on their clothes slowly, smiling completely in love. Both decided to stay a while longer, lying down, catching their breath, they both watched the stars feeling like a small part of that vast universe.

ㅤㅤㅤ “I love you, detka.” Wanda was encouraged to confess, she couldn't understand how all that excitement and happiness only seemed to increase more and more. Now she understands what everyone means when they talk about sex.

ㅤㅤㅤ

With a big leap, Y/N’s heart was ready to give itself completely once more.  “I love you, Wands.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Both remained embraced for a moment until the sound of the leaves breaking made Y/N alert and quickly get up.

Maybe a wild animal? A wolf? Maybe a deer, the good thing is that maybe the fire could help. But the footsteps didn’t seem to be from some wild animal, the steps were slow and clumsy.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Wait here.” Y/N whispered, Wanda tried to stop her but the girl just told her to be quiet.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N took a step forward, grabbing one of the gas lamps but a grunt and a 'fuck!' made her relax.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Coach Ward?” Y/N frowned, coming out of their place to look for the man. Perhaps he got lost, the man had been quite lonely lately.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Y/N, you have to help me… something is over here.” The man begged. Y/N searched through the trees but the only thing she found was a strong blow to the back of her neck, making her fall.

ㅤㅤㅤ

The man they thought it could be trusted, approached against Y/N and began to hit her over and over again. On her face, on her ribs, on her back.

Ward held back her anger for so long, finally releasing it in the most cruel and hateful way.

ㅤㅤㅤ

He had always been a rather cold and unhappy man, especially with his job as a mediocre high school coach. Ward never believed that there could be anything worse than that, until the plane went down.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Losing his job, his life and his leg caused him to lose his mind as well. Poisoning all the girls with the mushrooms to make them completely helpless was the first step. With each blow, Ward felt his anger rise. The only way to feel powerful was to make others worse off than he was.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda screamed horrified, running to help Y/N but only received a blow from that man's cane, making her fall to the ground too.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You're the one who chopped my leg, right?” Ward yelled furious and moved toward her, he took the girl and dragged her, staying on top of her. “You fucking cunt!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“HELP!” Wanda yelled with all her might, hoping that one of her friends would hear.

ㅤㅤㅤ Y/N was unconscious next to her, her face began to swell due to the strong blows.

Taking advantage of his strength and knowing that he could subdue the girl, Ward prevented Wanda from escaping or moving her hands.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I'm going to kill each one of you. I'm sick of all of you!” He growled through his teeth, squeezing Wanda's neck with his dirty hand. “Stop jerking around like a fish! I'll do something you'll like.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“NO!” Wanda's eyes widened, terror chilling her blood.  “HELP!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

But nobody responded. She kicked the man on his injured leg, making Ward to grunt in pain.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“HELP ME!” Wanda screamed once more before Ward punched her face and pulled out a hunting knife, slashing her thigh.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Staggering desperately, clinging to every tree she found, the brunette felt the screams grow louder. Everything around Jules was spinning non-stop, the effect of the mushrooms and the alcohol began to hit hard.

Dragging the ax to her side, she walked over to where the voices were growing. More and more, they whispered that she must do it.

ㅤㅤㅤ

She frowned seeing how a weird monster tried to attack Wanda, desperate, about to do something horrible. As soon as Jules saw that scene, she approached and without thinking, without hesitation, raised the ax and hit the man's back with strength, making him cry out in pain.

Drops of blood spattered on the girl’s pale face; Jules stepped back, watching as Ward dropped Wanda and scrambled to the ground like a trampled insect.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Julia stepped forward, still carrying the axe.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“D-Don’t-” he begged, raising his hand.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“SHE SAID ‘NO’!” Jules raised the ax again and hit him once more, two, three times, taking his life. But suddenly that man stopped, opening his eyes wide, finally finding death. Droplets of blood began to escape from his dry lips, falling to the ground. Moistening the earth.

ㅤㅤㅤ

A strange breeze moved their hair when that happened, as if something woke up in that place. And it did, something ancient and ancestral  awakened.

ㅤㅤㅤ

The blood had been spilled.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda screamed in horror and pushed him away from her, Ward's corpse lying next to her.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“What did I do?” Jules murmured, remaining in that trance. Still holding the bloody axe, clinging to it.  “What did I do? What did I do?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

The girl repeated again and again.

Wanda got up and ran to Y/N, kneeling by her side, trying to wake her up. Her heart broke to see that Y/N her face and right eye swollen.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Detka, please wake up. Please, my love, wake up.” Wanda caressed her cheek, The Sokovian woman put her ear to Y/N's chest to check if she was still alive, and sighed to confirm it. Her heart kept beating.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Little by little, Y/N opened er good eye. Looked around her and understood the horror scene in front of them.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Are you okay?”  Y/N asked to her girlfriend, was barely able to speak because of the pain.

ㅤㅤㅤ

At that moment Natasha came running desperately, the fear on her face was shown  when she saw her friends on the ground and a bloody shocked Jules in front of Ward. Mumbling nonsense.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Jules, hey, do you hear me?” The redhead cupped Jules's face, trying to snap her out of her trance. She reached for the axe, stroking Jules hand gently to take the axe.   “Let it go. Easy.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I heard that she needed me, I heard-” Jules kept saying, the tears began to fall down her face without stopping.  “I swear. I swear, believe me. Something told me to come here and help her!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Nat turned to see Wanda, who was helping Y/N get up.  “Are you okay?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

The sokovian nodded slowly, worried about her girlfriend's condition. “He was going to… he wanted to-…" Wanda swallowed, feeling a tiny blood trickle down her leg from her body. She turned her gaze away to not see Ward's body. “She’s right, she defended me.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“It’s okay. Don’t look at him, look at me.” Natasha murmured. "We have to get them to the cabin, now." ㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda helped Y/N to stay on her feet.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Her eyes are still dilated.” Natasha murmured, looking into Jules's eyes, then looked at her friends. “Let's go. We don't know if he attacked anyone else. Then we'll see what to tell them.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

How would they explain all this to the other girls? Oh, this was going to cause chaos.

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤNOW

ㅤㅤㅤ

How strange is. So strange to finally wake up without being the victim of nightmares.

Y/N sighed and opened her eyes, feeling Wanda's soft caresses on her belly. They were both lying on that bed after having spent a wonderful and passionate night.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Morning.” Y/N murmured in fear of breaking the moment, that it would break completely and everything would go back to 'normal', that cold place she already knew.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Morning.” Wanda answered with a soft voice, without stopping those caresses, which made Y/N sigh in relaxation.

They were both like that for a while, enjoying the pleasant silence that the morning offered.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N's fingers gently caressed Wanda’s thigh, feeling that scar. A memory of that night, so beautiful and at the same time so harsh.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Do you still remember everything that happened there or does it start to fade between memories?” Y/N whispered while her fingertips traced her belly.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Sometimes I wonder if what we experienced was real or there are parts where my head makes it up.” Wanda sighed feeling the caresses.  “The scar reminds me that it was true.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N kept her gaze on her thigh, somewhat thoughtful. “I’m sorry.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“It wasn’t your fault.” The brunette looked up to see her, noticing the guilt in Y/N's eyes. She placed a soft kiss on her jaw, despite the fact that she made all that guilt worse for a long time due to anger, Wanda didn’t want to see her that way. Not anymore.  “None of it was your fault.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N said nothing, just kept caressing the bare skin of her beloved, running through it like that first time.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“What you did was to help us survive, Jules saved us that night and you saved us the following months… Hey, look at me.” The sokovian took her face to fix her gaze on Y/N’s eyes.  “Those of us who did it, it was thanks to you.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N swallowed, wishing she felt the same way about herself. “Do you think I did it right?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You did what we had to in order to survive.” Wanda assured her. And likewise, because despite the fact that she tried to go through life thinking that all that was behind her, guilt often used to drown her.

But life gave her the little ones, and she had to be strong.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I love you.” Y/N whispered lost in those beautiful green eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda just smiled with a certain tenderness and kissed those lips.

The brunette sat on Y/N's hips, enjoying seeing the nakedness of the woman below her. Wanda's fingertips rubbed her belly slowly.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“So…” She bit her lower lip, happy to see that the taunt worked.  It had been a long time since Wanda's sex life was as active as it is now. Feeling like a seductive woman, would do anything to please Y/N. “Pancakes or morning quickie?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N smirked, caressing her hips.  “You know I can't resist you.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“It's good because I really need to feel you.” Wanda said with a mischievous smile, leaning down to kiss her lips slowly, deeply and passionately.

ㅤㅤㅤ 🐝🐝🐝 Things will get ugly for the baby Yellowjackets... and maybe the grown ups too. ㅤㅤㅤ

the cutest and lovely people tags ✨ @kaiidth-wandika @yourfavunsub @pawiie @fanboy7794 @sunsol-22 @scarlettbitchx @arcturusseer @imnotasuperhero @chtte @lesbians-in-outer-space @starry-night17 @cristin-rjd @kenlymar @chtte @marvelogic @druggedduck @aliherreraaa @widowwaddles @gingiesworld

[bardic-tales]

7.5.24: 30DWB Issue 1: Climate and Variety

While I may use the snowflake or leviathan method for my manuscripts, I prefer to use the 30 days of world-building questionnaire to quickly build a world that I work on.

Fantasy Worlds Collide is no different. FWC blends both fanon and original content together into a vivid, breathable world and focus on a grander scope: the threat of the Multiverse / Omniverse.

Exercise: Then, go through that list and write one or two words that describe how that climate, either the word itself or the way the place itself may have made you feel, if you've been there before. Try to stick to abstract adjectives; emotional words, if you can, but nouns are also okay.

Different seasons depending where someone is on the Celestial Realm. Not much variety.

Never-ending - Winter : Desolate. Depressive. Cold. Sad. Melancoly. Irritable. Anger. Death. Discomfort. Pain. Aches. Exhaustion. Adversities.

Never-ending Summer: Happiness. Optimism. Joy. Warmth. Brightness. Energy,.

Never-ending Spring: Flirty. Cheerful. Romance. Joyful. Hope. Renewal. Adventure. Hope. Freshness

Never-ending Fall: Dread. Discomfort. Depression. Sadness. Gloom.

No weather: Oppressive. Anxiety.

Part II

Autumn - temperate weather, shorter days and longer nights Temperate climate: warm and humid summers. Thunderstorms and mild winter

Tropical hot and humid. Temps greater than 64 F year round. More than 59 precipitation each year

Dry: moisture is evaporating quickly. Little to no participation. Cold Nights.

Continental: warm to cool summers. Very cold winters. Snow storms, strong winds, very cold temperatures

Polar: extremely cold. The temperatures never go highter than 50 F. Seattle: Rainy. Unhappiness. Rebirth. Determination. Introspection. El Nino: Wetter than usual. Warmer and drier conditions.

La Nina: Winter temperatures are warmer than normal (South). Colder than Normal (North)

LA: Smog. Gloomy.

Space climate: radio blackouts, solar radiation storms, and geomagnetic storms that will cause disturbances.

A vacuum in space - Nothingness. Vacuum. Depression. Oppression.

[miss-choco-chips]

God of you

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30280023

--.--.--.--.--

Scared, aimlessly walking down his own frozen path, he started to feel his heart slowing down. The cold freezing him from the inside was familiar, and it horrified him

(Could anybody see him? Hear his silent cries for help?)

His name was Langa. This storm was his creation. And that was all he knew.

--.--.--.--.--

--.--.--.--.--

When they met for the first time, it was an accident. 

Langa had gotten lost, to be true. His own blizzard out of control, icicles sparing right through whoever was dumb enough to get close, an avalanche of cold, merciless snow burying those who lingered. Pain and death and desolation, and a young, lost boy right in the middle of it all.

Where was he? Who was he? What was he doing here?

(What was he doing to himself? To others?)

Scared, aimlessly walking down his own frozen path, he started to feel his heart slowing down. The cold freezing him from the inside was familiar, and it horrified him

(Could anybody see him? Hear his silent cries for help?)

His name was Langa. This storm was his creation. And that was all he knew.

Then, suddenly, a strange, painful sensation in his hand. He looked behind him, and the bleeding red was like a jab to his eyes, used to only white and light blue.

And it didn’t stop there. Tan skin, bright eyes, colorful robes that covered very little for the unforgiving weather surrounding them. Looking at this person was an entirely new experience, evoking a feeling deep in his chest and down to his stomach that he didn’t know how to name yet. It was scary. It was exciting.

“Jeez, dude. Look at the mess you’re in. Are you okay?”

His hand, his hand, it hurts! But then, as he got used to the feeling (too surprised to snatch it away), he noticed that the stranger’s fingers cradling his hand weren’t trying to provoke damage. It was a soft, mushy sensation. Pins and needles at first, but… enticing, now.

“What… are you doing?”

The other man smiled a bit, tightening his grip. Langa felt an irresistible compulsion to turn around and completely face him, so he did.

(He was confused and didn’t know more than his name, but he still thought it wasn’t like him to deny his impulses.)

“Trying to warm you up”, he replied, fingers rubbing at his palm in soft, circular motions.

Warmth. That was the feeling, in his hand, in his stomach, surrounding his chest. It was… He wasn't sure what it was, yet. But. He liked it?

“Trying being the magic word; you’re freezing,” he followed up with. His smile turned into a worried frown. “Can you even feel my fingers?”

They were all Langa could feel, to be honest. His throat was dry.

“How did you even get here, the closest village is about two hours of walking.”

“I… I don’t know.”

The other looked at him in silence. Seemingly trying to decide on something, he finally sighed and gently tugged on the hand still in his possession.

“Well, come on.” At Langa’s confused stare, he smiled, broader than before, and tugged again. “I can’t exactly leave you here by yourself, now can I. My home is a bit far, but if we can make it there by sundown, my mother will have dinner ready and hopefully we’ll warm you up enough to keep you from death. My name is Reki, by the way.”

“Reki…”, he repeated. It tasted sweet, on his tongue. The warmth in his hand was climbing up his arm, and now he felt it on his cheeks. “I’m… Langa,” that much, he knew. Everything else, he’d have to figure out.

But there, walking behind Reki, cold and warm fingers intertwined, he thought that maybe it wouldn't be scary, the meantime. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The Kyan family lived in the village’s outskirts. Owners of a field (a big one, at that), they weren’t doing bad enough that they couldn’t afford to take Langa in.

He learned a few things, staying with them. The feeling of a warm, hearty meal (Mrs Kyan was a very good cook). The sensation of mud between his fingers (as the only man, only Reki worked the fields; as an unpaying guest, Langa helped). The quietness of a night without snow storms (it was always warm, inside the house.)

(But that might be just because of Reki.)

Langa didn’t mind his fleeing memory (questions about who was he and where did he come from seemed to dwindle with every afternoon spent trailing after Reki as he completed his chores), nor the hard work (there was something about this man, Langa couldn’t help but think, that he made everything fun). But the dark looks of worry Mrs Kyan and Reki would get, as winter seemed to get worse and worse, kept him awake at night.

So he tried. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was doing, only that it seemed to work when the ice covering the Kyan’s crops would get thinner with each passing day, despite the surrounding lands being completely white with thick snow. And he made sure to do the same the following winter, and the one after that.

And with that relief came back Reki’s brilliant smile, growing with each warm meal his sisters finished, with every happy laugh line furrowing his mother’s forehead. It’d only grow brighter as he held Langa’s hand between his and claimed what a good luck charm this weird foreigner was, that ever since they took him in, winter seemed to pass them by and leave them untouched.

Privately, Langa thought there was no one to thank other than Reki himself. Because it was him who unknowingly gave him the tools to morph his strange, almost uncontrollable powers into something malleable and useful.

It was Reki who taught him about warmth, and that was enough to help melt his unforgiving frost.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

His memories eventually returned, but it was too late by then. Too fucking late.

Because when they did come, it was just after war had taken all warmth from him.

Reki was gone.

The… the idea didn’t… Langa just couldn’t…

Reki was gone.

War had come, and he’d been called to fight. As the only man in his family, there was really  no other option. And even when Langa had raged and shook, insides freezing over despite it being summer, demanding he took him with, Reki had stayed firm. As firm as he was when he found a strange man lost in a blizzard and took him home. As firm as he was when the villagers looked at them walking around, pointing at his strange, delicate features, his white skin and blue hair, and spoke of curses and demons. As firm as he was when people noticed his crops remaining healthy throughout the winter and spoke of witchcraft, or blessings, or miracles, and did their damned best to either hurt Langa or steal him for themselves.

The same firmness that made him feel secure and steady despite his blurry past and uncertain future, caused him now such unfathomable despair.

Because Reki was gone. And he hadn’t taken Langa with him.

When warnings about the dangers of war hadn’t been enough to stop him, Reki had played dirty. He spoke about his mother, too old to work the fields, and his sisters, some of them even approaching marriageable age and a little bit too tempting to those seeking to harm young girls, or to take advantage of the Kyan’s prosperous wealth.

Fear made him desperate to go with Reki, but duty forced him to stay. So he did, and he worked the fields in summer, and fixed the roof when it broke during the storm season in autumn, and kept ice off the crops during the harshest days of winter.

And when spring came, so did his memories.

And so did news of Reki’s death.

Reki was gone. And Langa was eternal. 

He was a God, he knew then. A young, lost one, who after straying too far from his realm had gotten stuck in mortal lands. And then, after meeting Reki, he couldn’t leave.

Because a God that forgets themselves and loves a human might not return home as long as their dear heart remains in life.

But now Reki is gone, the warmth he shared with Langa taken with him, far beyond where he’d ever be able to reach.

He was a God. He could blow mountains away with a single breath, destroy villages with the swoop of a hand, could will the cruelty of winter away or force it to stay with scarcely a thought.

But he couldn’t bring his love back, couldn’t keep that heat blaring brightly inside himself. Without Reki’s warm palms protecting the flame, it died off like a candle left outside during a storm.

Langa’s pain, his broken heart, brought fore disasters previously unheard of. Lands freezing so completely, life couldn’t survive there. Winds so cruel and cold they’d cut anyone stupid enough to brave them. The battlegrounds in which Reki’s blood had been spilled were promptly destroyed, the strength of the blizzard he sent there opening the earth below worse than an earthquake. The only place left untouched, after Langa’s rage simmered down into heart wrenching despair, was the Kyan’s household, abandoned  but for himself after their scared inhabitants had decided to migrate away from all the destruction.

Reki was gone, and Langa’s hands (and his heart) were cold again.

He had forgotten just how painfully numbing the chill in his bones was.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Eventually, Langa’s despair became too much for anyone to handle. Life on earth was going to be no more, unless someone stepped up and did something about it.

But there was only one thing that could melt the God of Snow, and Winter, and Cold. A person that was long gone, lost forever.

But what’s forever for a God?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It was the God of Dreams and Nightmares that searched in Langa’s memories for his beloved. The God of Youth and Strength the one who built his mortality, piece by frail piece. The God of Spring and Beginnings that breathed life into it. The God of Tricks and Determination who travelled far beyond anyone else’s reach, to steal back the soul needed to tie it all up together.

(Because Langa wouldn’t accept it, unless it was real. It was no good, if it wasn’t this one.)

And so they worked together for the first time ever, resolutely, tirelessly. Until they could softly place this new human (this old being) on Earth and will it to live.

Until one bright August 8th afternoon, thousands of years after his death, Kyan Reki, all of ten seconds after his second birth, opened his eyes and cried.

And all the way across the world, a God heard him. And his heart started beating again, slow but steady. And his love, his never dying love, drove him (eager and willing) away from his Godly lands and into mortal ground again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He didn’t recognize him by looks, but touch. So it wasn’t until hours after their introduction (hours after Langa, itchy mortal skin covering his godly one, had entered that classroom, tired and cold and still so fucking lonlely), when this bright eyed boy had offered him a hand to get back on his feet after falling off his skateboard, that he felt it again.

When their hands touched, the warmth in his fingertips traveled fast and vicious through his arm and shoulders, until finally settling over his chest. Surrounding a heart that was beating wildly, desperate to reach out to its other half.

And Reki, who was mortal but also a little bit more (built by the Gods themselves, from pieces and ashes and stolen remains), gasped in syntony with Langa.

Trying times would come, the presence of a strong God and an existence that wasn’t fully human nor godly drawing the attention of other powerful beings. Beings that, following Langa’s example (curious as to what exactly was tempting enough, to drag one as grand as him down from his frozen throne), donned mortal skins and meddled with their affairs.

Some would try to help, some to harm, others just to observe. It really didn’t matter, to Langa.

Because he had Reki’s hand in his again, his flame now a burning fire in his veins, and he wasn’t going to ever let go. 

[hollenka99]

An Abundance of Theseuses

Summary: Wilbur can’t move on and Thes refuses to accept that so ends up visiting his brother with each reincarnation in the hopes of remembering him so he can free him from his fate.

Warnings: Blood mention, death, mention of major injury

This is based on We’ve taken different paths but I know we’ll always end up on the same one by Alexander_Wesker. First of all, please read the fic because this one contains spoilers but also it will help this make more sense. Check out their other stuff too because they’ve written some great stuff.

THESEUS, 1752-1778 The axe comes down and with it comes the permission to be relieved of his current ordeal. There is cheering and an order for the King to be brought his head. He simply closes his eyes, exhaling as the acceptance that his fate has come for him. He thought eternal rest would arrive to offer its hand more immediately but perhaps even an omnipresent figure's horse requires time to reach him. Alternatively, it could come barrelling into his chest, arms open and ready to encompass him wholeheartedly. "Wilbur!" And there he was. Wilbur had no need to discontinue their embrace because there was only one person whose hold felt like this. He'd last laid eyes on him when he'd collapsed to the ground, eye bleeding from the fatal shot. Being apprehended had denied him the chance to even say goodbye. The King had taken great pleasure in mentioning the dishonour of leading your kin astray, that was for sure. He hadn't made his true feelings known in the presence of the royal family or their affiliates. Ha, as if he would give him that kind of satisfaction. That did not, however, mean Thes and those he'd loved as kin were absent from his private thoughts, where the King had no access. This current outcome did not soothe him. He could not see any possible reason why Thes would be foolish enough to travel here to witness a personally harrowing event. Nevertheless, he would never reject his embrace, especially not now. "Thes?" "It will be alright soon. I would say it takes a minute then you'll feel the tug too." "You're here." "I was waiting for us to go together." "Wait, you saw what transpired but a moment ago?" He subconsciously begins turning to the very scene he is referring to but Thes stops him. "Don't look, it will do you no good." His brother guides his face with a gentle hand so their gazes interlock. "And yes, did I not just establish that I was waiting for you?" As the second-born son had predicted, an intangible force does claim him. It becomes apparent to him that its desires will prove a disappointment to his brother. "I feel this pull you previously mentioned but it is sending me north, not skywards." Thes pulls back, hands now on his brother's respective arms. Now that he is able to see it, Thes' eye looks horrendous. Were they both not dead, he'd be rushing to gather supplies and calling for a medic to treat it. "No, you are confused. It will be okay, give it a second then you will realise it is directing you the same way as it is me." "Thes," He provides a melancholy smile to ease the blow. "I can assure you... it is not." "No. No, no, no, it is, it is. It has to be." He takes Thes' hands in his. "Please, go be at peace. You fought so well and I am proud of you for it. However, you deserve to rest after all the miseries that befell us." "You speak as if you don't deserve the same." "Perhaps it is not the will of-" "No, cease talking because all that seems to be coming from your mouth is nonsensical. God's will or not, it is through my will that you shall join me." "Theseus-" Thes' head drops, the top now resting against Wilbur's chest. "I've expended all my efforts to last long enough so that I could be here by your side at this very moment. So forgive me for being unable to resist it for much longer." Their eyes make acquaintance once more. "But listen to me, Wilbur, I am going to make you an oath. No matter how it can be done, no matter how long shall transpire before I see success, I will find a way for you to be freed so that you may join me." "You do not need-" "Well, have you considered I want to?!" A reprise of the previous embrace. This one is not as joyous or a source of relief. It is not a 'hello again' but rather a 'fare thee well'. "You have not committed enough wrongdoings to deserve any form of Purgatory. I promise I will somehow succeed, Wilby." Thes fades without warning and leaves the elder Soot brother to grasp air in his absence. He'd light heartedly chastise him for how improper disappearing in the middle of a discussion was if Thes was still here. Instead, Wilbur sets off with a defeated sigh. Thes spoke the truth when he claimed remaining here would do him no good. TIMOTHY, 1779-1824 The path he takes brings him back to the location of his greatest failure. It makes sense that his purgatory would be here. Over there was where he believes his tent was, the very place he dealt playing cards among those closest to him on what would be the final evening for thousands. He'd witnessed a bloody back live up to their name towards those trees. And approximately in that direction... was where his dear Thes fell while attempting to secure the survivors' right to remain surviving. Regardless of what once was, he remains where he has been positioned. Spring becomes summer, becomes autumn, becomes winter, becomes spring once more. On and on this cycle continues without deviation. It is not long before any trace of his and his men's final stand is gone from the world. The bodies were removed for fear of being unsightly and the blood spilt has been washed by rain. It is simply him and the desolation of it all. He hopes, whatever became of his Theseus, his brother is faring more happily than he is. It is during one of many autumns that a common man comes to pay the battlefield a visit. It's peculiar and unexpected but Wilbur cannot say he minds it. The fellow isn't doing anything untoward, nor does he give the impression of having any intention to act in such a way. The impression he does give, however, is one of a troubled individual. What strikes Wilbur above all else is that this is Thes, this man is somehow his brother. He can intangibly feel it. He knows this inexplicable fact to be the truth. Externally, the two bear no resemblance. The person before him is not blond, has long since seen his 20s and there is not a single trace of a curl in his receding hairline. And yet... this is Thes, through and through. There is no doubt in his mind that he is in the presence of the soul that once identified as Theseus Soot. "Thes, it's me. You've found me!" He grins, rushing to stand in front of him. What a fool he was to doubt Thes' ambitions were possible. There is no response or indication his brother's new form heard him. "Thes, do not ignore me. You know full well it is improper to act in such a manner. I- I won't have it." It's a lie, an attempt at authority when there are none to rule over. Thes' counterpart shifts his weight between his legs before proceeding with baring his thoughts. "Let me preface this by explaining I did not intend to come here. I don't know why I travelled here to be in what is essentially nothing but a field. It makes no sense to me. And yet... and yet here I am. At great personal expense, no less." "Please, simply look at me. I am right here. Whatever is troubling-" The fake Thes sighs, frustrated. It morphs into a grimace. "There is a reason I'm in a city, not just whatever compelled me to steal a horse so I could be here tonight. You must do what you have to in order to keep those dear to you in good spirits. I feel You would understand that in all Your heavenly might." "I would never be blasphemous enough to profess myself to be on par with the Lord." He says to nobody who can hear his light hearted words. "It is still my intention to find work, of course, I am nothing if not a man who does his best to be of good virtue, but in the meantime, I must risk being hung. Or perhaps they shall be merciful enough to send me to New Holland to rid of me." "Oh Thes," He attempts to offer comfort but just as the moonlight passes through him nightly, so too do his hands. "No, don't lead yourself astray out of desperation, I beg you." Thes takes a step as if he plans to leave it at that, reconsidering at the last second. Hope swells within Wilbur as he convinces himself this is finally the moment recognition comes. Surely, this all a ruse, a cruel trick from somebody who used to find such joy in winding those dearest to him up. Alas, it is not so. Instead, Thes remains oblivious and Wilbur remains an intruder to a private confessional. "If I am to go to the gallows or be transported, if it is only myself and God who can hear, then... perhaps I can be honest. I was filled with such- such satisfaction when I heard of Princess Charlotte's unfortunate passing. It was a terrible thing. Neither mother nor child survived the birth, I wouldn't wish that kind of tragedy on a soul. Such a sad thing and yet it was the royal family's misfortune that I- a part of me, at least, took great joy in that development. It's not such a crisis nowadays, I believe they have a new heir, but I dare say something from the very depths of my soul would have celebrated their downfall. Then this past January, when his majesty himself died, I felt the same sense of vindication upon learning of the news. It is maddening to experience such conflict within myself. I hope you can find it in Your benevolence to forgive me." "I cannot speak for God but I forgive you. I would have privately allowed myself to feel positive upon his passing too. It is only natural after he caused us such strife." Having said his piece, Thes makes his departure. All the while, a ghost continues to futilely endeavour to be noticed. TARQUIN, 1825-1854 Thes arrives the next time with a boy a stride behind him. It's not the first occasion he's seen this Thes but this is definitely the debut of his son for Wilbur. By now, he has made peace with the fact he is imperceptible to his brother, the same way he is to everyone else. He had originally clung to the preposterous notion Thes would personally break through that curse simply due to being Thes. If anyone was going to see his face or hear his voice for the first time since 1778, surely it would be him. No such luck. "Right here in this very field, if I am not mistaken, was a battle. Minor, didn't count for anything." You would not be saying that if you knew your true self. It was anything but inconsequential to us. "My grandfather was a boy at the time. He always claimed it was one of the factors that inspired him to choose to pledge loyalty to his king. He's very dear to me. In fact, I should have us visit him as soon as I return." Yes well, Wilbur didn't want to be so bold as to voice it but he did sense the apple didn't fall far from that tree. He appreciates younger sons must venture into specific professions for the sake of staying gentlemen. However, he would have wished for Thes' thoughts to sour at least slightly at the idea of playing a part in military conquests that serve (indirectly or not) to strengthen the image of the royal family. Perhaps there is a disgruntled young man underneath who is secretly cursing the situation his birth has placed him in. "However, it is a harsh truth that your superior officers aren't inclined to care." He cared. He cared enough that every person under his command that never returned home to their families felt like a personal loss. Those final 8000 plague him, as do the numerous others before them. "You have a job to do, as do they. It is their responsibility to see you and the rest of the men under their command through to the other side. Yours is to do the same from the ground. One day, you might be nothing more than a name among many. You may even end up the same as those who fought here, your efforts disregarded. What matters more is whether you have your fellow soldiers' backs. Be loyal to the Crown, of course, do yourself and her majesty proud, but be even more loyal to your brothers at arms. See falling in their stead as an honour, not a misfortune. Do you understand?" The boy hesitantly begins to nod. There is a glimpse of sorrow as Thes gazes out across the field, hand on his son's furthest shoulder. Please brother, remember your past. Even if it is a mere glimpse, the slightest slither, remember being Theseus, remember having a brother you thought the world of, remember your determination to help see a fairer end to suffering under an institution so much larger than yourself. Thes doesn't. Father and son soon depart with haste. Thes never comes again and Wilbur fears the worst. He's right to. TANWYN, 1855-1914 They transform the former battlefield into a cheap attraction. The disgrace of it! Have they no shame or respect for what occurred here? Around the area are some plaques detailing the conflict and replications of the cannons used. Collections of people will visit, listen to an exceedingly brief summation of the Battle of L'Manburg (not Nottingham, whatever could have- Wait, perhaps don't answer that. He knows exactly why), then go on their merry way to another destination. On this particular day, Thes is among the small crowd. He wistfully surveys the land. The fellow directing the group calls to him so that he may not be abandoned. Thes replies with a "Forgive me, got lost in my head there." then carries on with his afternoon as if nothing unusual had occurred. However, was that a... Welsh accent? What on earth is Thes doing, being Welsh? Wilbur absent-mindedly smiles to himself at the thought. If anything, he should think Thes would be better suited to being born Scottish if he was required to not be English this time. Still, he cannot be one to judge divine intentions. This is it, he thinks. Thes will visit when it is dark and therefore barren. It is in his nature, to be drawn here, to openly speak to the air as if someone is listening. Wilbur waits for his brother's newest form to reappear. He anticipates all the updates he could receive regarding Thes' current life. No matter how potentially mundane a topic could be, he will eagerly listen to it. This time when the Welshman doesn't return and Wilbur fears the worst, he is mistaken. TILL, 1915-1932 This Theseus is weary when Wilbur finally is permitted to see him. While he'd like to call this one a man, it is impossible to do so, given it is a boy that is in front of him. He was never good at estimating ages but he would reckon this one was perhaps around a decade his Thes' junior. So close to adulthood and yet not close enough. With his countenance appearing so ailed, it would seem he would never cross that threshold. If his face did not expose the morbid truth then the way he stumbles towards a cannon to rest against it or the wheezy laughter undoubtedly do. It is evident that achieving his goal of reaching this destination brings unimaginable relief. Thes weakly mutters things in German. He tells of various occurrences in his life, the family he left behind, how he miraculously managed to stowaway on an England-bound ship and further how he expects to be mistaken for a homeless beggar come daylight. As he speaks, Wilbur is reminded of similar discussions regarding trivial things he once shared with Niki. His modern languages tutor may have been insufferable but the knowledge paid off once and now here too, who knows how many years later. Wilbur attentively listens to it all, brief as it may be. Thes' current counterpart leans to the side without forewarning. It takes a moment for Wilbur to realise why on earth his brother would attempt to have his weight supported by empty air. Ah. Were the circumstances different and Thes aware of the ghost beside him, he would surely tease his brother for trying to rest his head upon Wilbur's shoulder as he often did in life. But as if stood, Wilbur was forever incorporeal and outside the realm of visibility to everyone including his own dear brother. With effort, Thes corrects himself to resume sitting with his back to a cannon. Wilbur too returns to being seated on his right, hand atop his brother's. The minutes pass. With them, so do Thes' breaths. Wilbur can do nothing but sigh forlornly and kiss his brother's forehead. "Rest well, Thes." His is the first face the spirit lays eyes on. There is shock at the sight of an executed man, confusion as if questioning whether they have made acquaintance before then a wide smile that could belong to none other than his little brother. Wilbur does not even get the chance to say hello before Thes groans. "Remind me to never die of consumption again. Absolute tedium and with no pleasant variety either." "I'm sorry." Thes shakes his head. "Think nothing of it. Though... it would appear I have an apology for you too. I couldn't make myself remember before it was too late again. I promise I am trying my best." "I know you are. I do not mind it. All I care about is having the pleasure of seeing you once more, regardless of circumstance. I admire and appreciate the efforts you so diligently pursue for my benefit. But please, I implore you to find peace. That is what I want more than some futile quest." "The years of solitude have caused a deficit in your memories also, it would seem. I would never quit you, Wilbur, never. You would do well to remind yourself of that truth." A distracted look to the skies. Thes opens his mouth to continue, to make another comment. Wilbur beats him to it. "Go. I will be fine until we see each other once more." "Very well. I will come as soon as I am able." "You always do." An exchange of smiles then Wilbur is alone with the grass once more. TONY, 1933-2003 There are children here, a boy and an older girl. He would state his confusion on where their nurse, or whatever their family's equivalent should be, was. However, they seem self-sufficient enough. What does not surprise him is why the boy has approached this place with haste. He should think this is the youngest he has ever seen an incarnation of Thes. The daisies are growing nicely and plentiful this year. Though, he supposes, they will do that just about anywhere the room can be spared. The children show them appreciation until the girl grows irritable. "Tony, come on. Pops may not be home to scold us but Ma certainly will be. I don't even know why you're so insistent on seeing this place. It's nothing but an empty field with some plaques and fake cannons." He ponders for a minute. "I like it here. That's all." "Well, you won't have time to pack Percival if we leave it too late. I cannot guarantee we'll be kept together and... and you'll need him if I am absent." "I don't see why we have to go in the first place. I wouldn't attack Nottingham if I was Mr Hitler. It's boring here and there are so many more people in London." "A city is a city." The girl huffs. "Ma says they likely won't take us far anyway. We'll most likely never even leave Nottinghamshire. I should think all they'll do is send us to some village or small town." Her impatience is blatant. She fidgets as her brother reads the words engraved onto the plaques, ardently playing look-out as if there is cause for others to journey here. This transforms into incessant tapping of her foot upon the ground. "But if we stay here forever, we shall miss the train, never mind not having a single thing in our suitcases. So come along before I make you." 'Tony' resists a moment longer than his sister has patience for. Being led away, he glances back over his shoulder. There is not a hint of recognition in his eyes, though that is to be expected. He eventually returns time and time again. As an adult, Th- Tony visits (or at least plans to) on the first dry day of each month. Wilbur witnesses as the years gradually strip him of his youth then replace it with greying hair and less firm skin. He ages further than Thes ever got the chance to. It pleases Wilbur to see it. Tony is not always alone. Sometimes there is a dog or occasional family member. One way or another, he remains a fairly steady constant for decades. Thes never manages to recall why the field is significant to him but then again, they would be fools to aspire for so much. Years later, long enough for women's fashion to develop into something shamefully immodest, a young miss approaches with a letter when the battle site is devoid of its usual visitors. She speaks of how her grandfather wished for the 'friendly presence of soldiers' to know he'd passed. The letter is short, the words of a dying old man who'd never solved the greatest mystery within his heart, but it is not any less heartfelt or grateful for the sense of comfort this place has inexplicably provided him. "Thank you. And my sincerest condolences." Wilbur whispers. Onto the next one then, he supposes... TOMMY, 2004- He sees the boy come again and again. This one bears an achingly strong resemblance to the true original. He's like the last version of Thes too, staying loyal to the promise of visiting whenever he can. Though, Wilbur reminds himself, none of these incarnations ever truly understand why they feel drawn to the former battlefield. On this particular day, the weather does not appear favourable. It will rain soon if he is not mistaken. That fact makes little difference to him but there is no doubt it will cause Thes to scarper upon the feeling of the first drops. For now though, he peruses the text he has skimmed so frequently he must have committed it to memory by now. Oh and here come the aforementioned first raindrops of this downpour. Thes startles in response to nothing Wilbur can spot. It must bother him a great deal given that he is hastily searching for the source. He sets his sights in Wilbur's direction so the dead general comes to the natural conclusion it is something behind him that has spooked Thes so. Out of curiosity and perhaps boredom, he turns towards the forest to try to discern the culprit. Honestly, he believes the best course of action is for Thes to return home, to avoid the weather potentially inflicting any ailments upon him. A shrill ringing originating from an unknown source shocks them both. Wilbur faces his brother once more and Thes resumes looking directly at him, fear and confusion evident. The realisation comes. He could see him. Thes could see him. Oh, how he's waited for this day! Congratulations, dear brother, on progressing a little further in your endeavours. Or perhaps Wilbur is fooling himself. Why would Thes, after all these long years, suddenly gain the ability to see him? His brother remembering his former self was the goal, not perceiving Wilbur in any way. He won't look a gift horse in the mouth though, that is for sure. "Thes?" He dares to hope his assumptions are not unfounded. The ringing makes a reappearance, causing Thes to redirect his attention to it. He speaks with the device to his ear, incredibly apologetic towards whoever the communicator's recipient was. He makes his departure but not without searching for Wilbur once more. Evidently, it would seem the potential for the effects of this latest development lasting were too good to be true. A small voice inside him calmingly insists this won't be the last time this Thes returns. With the downpour, he prays it is a warm home his brother is hurrying back to. Thes simply requires time to process and rationalise it, he is sure of it. Wilbur himself could use a minute to accept this encounter was not fantastical. And so he waits, as he always has, for his Theseus to return to him. He is fortunate this time that it will not take long for that to happen. Luckier still, he has a gift he can deliver with the hopes it will assist with keeping himself in Thes' thoughts, regardless of the forces determined to keep them apart. This may be the beginning of something good and he gladly anticipates what may come of it.

[sassycassie-s-writing]

To Be Happy - Spring

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam, SuperFam - Jason Todd/Robin & Conner Kent/Kon-El/Superboy

Rating: PG-11 (death mention)

Original Idea: Part 1 Summer, Part 2 Autumn, Part 3 Winter

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) This time May is Spring, LOL @welovegroot

^^^^^

April 25, 3:00PM

“Stars!” Conner called, jogging over to me. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

I smiled. “Yeah. I just got back from town. Robin, Nightwing, and Wally are s’posed to come in tonight and I was tasked with picking up the pizza.”

“Oh nice. I didn’t know they were coming.”

“Yeah. Apparently Red Arrow is coming too, surprise, surprise. Dunno what’s going on but something is.” We crossed to the common room and sat on the sofa—rather nearer to each other than we would have sat back when we first met. My right knee was touching his left and we were turned toward one another.

“Stars, I know we’ve been… interested in each other for a while now. We’ve gone on dates and we’ve had fun, I think,” Kon said.

“I agree,” I replied. He knew my name at this point since we went to the same school and I trusted him, but I’d told him to call me Stars when we first met and he still did. Unless we were at school.

“So, I was thinking…”

^^^^^

April 26, 9:15AM

“This is it, Jason,” Jason muttered to himself as he made his way through the myriad of hallways in Mt. Justice toward Starbeam’s bedroom. “You’re finally going to tell her. And then you’re going to… say goodbye.” He stopped and scrunched his eyebrows. “But it won’t be forever. Just until you find your mom and bring her home.” He nodded and squared his shoulders.

He arrived at Starbeam’s door and promptly knocked before he could lose his nerve.

No answer.

“Stars?” he called gently. “Are you in there?”

No response. Maybe she had her headphones in…?

He opened the door and stuck his head in.

The room was empty.

He retreated and shut the door. “Starbeam?!” he shouted loudly for almost the whole base to hear.

“In the common room!” she replied loudly.

Steeling himself again, he jogged to the common room and paused outside to steady his breathing, and rehearse what he wanted to say for the thousandth time. Stars, I really like you and I’ve been crushing on you since we met and I'm about to go on a solo mission and I wanted to let you know how I feel before I leave because I’ll be gone for a while. Sounded great. What could go wrong?

The moment he stepped into the common room his train of thought derailed and crashed.

Kon and Stars were sitting next to each other on the sofa. Kon had his arm around her and their heads tilted against each other as they watched something on the TV.

“Oh. Uh… clearly you’re busy. I’ll, uh, try again later I guess…” Jason muttered.

Stars detangled herself from Kon and hopped over the back of the sofa. “No, no, it’s okay. What’s up?” she asked, an expectant grin on her face.

Jason sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Can we talk alone for a minute?” he asked quietly.

“Sure,” she replied, stepping out of the common room.

“Stars… I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while that I had a crush on you the moment we met and it only got stronger the longer we spent time together. I'm going on a solo mission and I don’t know how long I’ll be gone and I wanted to tell you before I left that I'm in love with you. I haven’t said anything till now because I knew you liked Kon and I just wanted you to be happy even if that didn’t mean with me but I can’t just leave without telling you.”

Starbeam cast her eyes down at his shoes. “Robin…” she said, tone desolate and full of sorrow. “You’ve been a really good friend to me since I got here. But… Kon and I officially became a couple yesterday.”

Jason felt his heart crack. “I'm… too late,” he muttered, mostly to himself, unable to meet her eyes.

“Oh, Robin. I… I…”

“No. You’re not sorry for being happy with Supey. Or… if you are, you shouldn’t be. It’s… it’s really okay. It’s fine. Really.”

Before Jason could make a bigger fool of himself, he took off down the hall towards the zeta tube and didn’t look back. He was too late. He’d hoped that maybe he’d make it… but… he hadn’t. He was too late.

^^^^^

“What’d Robin want?” Kon asked as I sat down on the sofa again but didn’t resume my cuddled-up position. He sat up straighter and searched my face.

“You weren’t… listening?” I asked.

“Of course not. Eavesdroppers never hear anything they like.”

“Oh.”

“Is everything okay, Stars?”

“Ye-yeah,” I mumbled. “He just… he just confessed that he loves me. Like, he’s in love with me.”

Kon blinked. “I see,” he said. “And how do you feel?”

“Sad,” I said. “I love you and Robin’s always felt like such a good friend and if I’ve been unintentionally leading him on I’ll feel awful.”

Conner brushed some of my hair out of my face. “It’s okay to feel bad, Stars,” he said. “For the record, I don’t think you were leading him on. You were the same levels of friendly to him as you were to everyone else and it’s his fault he grew feelings for you.”

I sighed and leaned against him. “I just don’t want to hurt any of my friends,” I said.

Kon wrapped his arms around me. “I know, Starry. I know.”

^^^^^

April 28, 12:34PM

It wasn’t two days later that we received the news that Robin had been killed. Everyone on the team gathered together and mourned. Kon held me as I cried for Robin—the small kid who played Battle of Wits with me and beat Nightwing in a rap battle and read classic novels in his downtime. The kid who’d become one of my best friends when the normal part of my old life was stripped away from me. The boy who put on a confident, proud face no matter how he actually felt.

Most of the team didn’t cry but they did mourn. Losing a teammate so young was devastating. Batman came to Mt. Justice, even, to share in the sadness.

He told us Robin’s name, too, so we could honor him properly.

Jason. Jason Todd.

Jason Todd—a boy who was so small due to malnourishment in his childhood but so fiery and confident anyway.

I was going to miss him so much.

When everyone had dissipated, Kon and I found ourselves on my bed. I was sitting in Kon’s lap and he was stroking my hair. “I'm sorry, Starry,” he whispered. “I know you and Robin were good friends.”

I sniffed. “Thank you, Conner,” I mumbled, voice thick with emotion and face buried in his strong, muscular shoulder. His fingers worked through some tangles in my hair from day-to-day life as a superhero-in-training. His touch was comforting. At least one thing in my life was constant. He kissed the side of my head.

^^^^^

May 31, 2:15PM

I sat on the floor in front of the hologram of Jason in his Robin uniform, standing proud and confident as he always had, in the grotto where we honored those who’d fallen. Both in the line of duty and out of it. Thankfully there were only a few holograms.

Jason’s hologram was the newest. I used to frequent the grotto since it was peaceful and a good place to think. But now… with Jason being added to it, I couldn’t bear to be down there. I couldn’t bear to look at him for too long without a slew of feelings cascading through my heart. He was so young. So vibrant. So full of life.

“Hey Jason,” I greeted quietly. “You’ll never guess what happened today. I met the new Robin. Nightwing seems to like him. He’s a proficient fighter. He’s got a bo staff. I beat him in training today though. Conner didn’t stop laughing for like five minutes. He seems like a good kid. He’s not as proud and confident as you are, but he’s smart. Like, really smart. He and Kon got on pretty well—which surprised Dick. And everyone else. He’s not you, but I think he and I can be friends. I miss you Jason. I know it hasn’t been very long, but I miss you like crazy.”

I pushed myself to my feet and stared at the hologram for a moment.

Kon appeared from the shadows of the grotto and rested his hand on the small of my back. “You okay?” he asked. “You haven’t been down here in a long time.”

“Yeah. It’s just that… meeting the new Robin… I needed to tell Jason,” I said with a shrug.

Kon held me against his side. “I'm sorry, babe,” he said quietly.

“Thanks Kon,” I said, resting my head on his chest. “C’mon. Let’s go get something productive done.”

Kon smiled softly. “Okay.”

Next

[resplendentgoldenwings]

All That Remains Chapter 5 Family and Friends

rating: teen

characters/pairings: Iris West, Barry Allen, WestAllen, OC: Jeanette and Brittney, Nora Allen’s sisters

warnings: language

summary: Twelve-year-old Iris attends Nora’s wake, eavesdrops on adult conversation and looks out for her best friend Barry, but she can’t protect him from everything.

beta: asexual-fandom-queen

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

notes: see end of chapter

15 years ago

"Did you just say that?"

"What? It's the truth, that man murdered our sister. I don't care what crazy story Barry makes up or if Henry's fingerprints weren't on the knife that killed her." Iris froze in the doorway of the enclosed front porch just out of sight of the adults.

That Henry was guilty was the conclusion everyone jumped to because nothing else made sense, but she'd overheard her parents discussing it. Her dad had said, Henry, as the culprit didn't fit the facts, even if Barry's version of the story sounded like some childish fantasy.

"That's utterly absurd Henry, and Nora adored each other, he wouldn't harm a hair on her head."

"Oh yes, the Man in Yellow did it?" The second woman said voice heavy with scorn and twelve-year-old Iris identified her as Barry's Aunt Jeanette. The one who looked so much like Nora that she'd started crying when they met the woman, Barry had simply thrown himself into her arms. The other woman must have been Mrs. Allen's sister Brittney.

She should probably show herself or back out of hearing range, but the girl did neither of those things choosing instead to eavesdrop on adult conversation.

"Nora indulged that child too much, can't tell fairy tales from reality."

"That boy just buried his mother, our sister and you expect him to be what normal? Are you serious right now Jeanette?"

"Are you serious right now? Our sister needs justice, and you're defending the man who killed her?"

There was a long silence Iris focused straining her ears to catch every word.

"I want justice for our sister just as much as you do, but you forget I lived with Henry and Nora for months there's no way-"

"-I don't believe this. I don't believe I'm hearing this."

Iris heard movement and shuffled backward just in time as Jeanette, Nora Allen's older sister stormed from the room. The older woman's red-rimmed eyes landed on her.

"I was looking for Barry," she said quickly.

"Well, he's not out there."

"Ok thanks."

"Hi Iris," Brittney was right behind her sister. "Is that cake for Barry?"

"Yeah."

"I haven't seen him since we got back here to the house."

"Okay, thanks."

Today was Nora Allen's funeral. She'd kept close to Barry at the church and then at the burial site, but gotten separated since they'd come home for the wake.

It was hard not to worry about him. Her best friend who'd saved her summer, her best friend who always tried to make her smile.

In the year since she and Barry had become friends, their two families had grown close. Close enough that since the Allen house was still considered a crime scene three weeks after Nora's death Nora Allen's wake was at the West house.

"You overheard us didn't you."

She tried not to look guilty.

"I used to eavesdrop all the time when I was your age. It's how you learn."

"No one ever tells us anything."

"I know. Well, I'm glad Barry has you for a best friend, he's gonna need good friends."

"I'm sorry about your sister."

"Thank you."

Brittney walked off into the house and chocolate cake in hand Iris continued her search for Barry: from room-to-room. There were people everywhere, not lots of them, but in each room, she checked eating, talking, drinking. She recognized a few of Dr. Allen's friends amongst them and some of his family from pictures.

Barry hadn't much felt like eating, but Iris in this first experience of death found her appetite undisturbed. He'd wondered off while she'd been eating with Wally and some of Barry's cousins at the kid's table.

She might have protested eating at the kid's table, after all, she had turned twelve, but it seemed well, childish to complain about it at a wake. So now she was wondering the house in search of Barry with a slice of chocolate cake in hopes of tempting him to eat something.

Iris found her mom in the hall coming out of the first-floor bathroom. For all that everyone was sad Francine was in one of her up moods, cooking for everyone, organizing everything, checking on everyone. Even now she was radiant. Soft, dark close cropped, tapered curls framed her heart shaped face, her black silk wrap dress swishing softly with each movement.

"Mom, have you seen Barry?"

Mrs. West considered a moment, a red tipped finger pressed to her lips.

"I think he was outside, the back with some of his cousins earlier."

"Thanks, mom."

"Iris where did you get that cake?"

"Barry's Aunt Brittany cut it already."

Her mother frowned.

"Is that for Barry?"

She nodded.

"Okay sweetheart, you get yourself a piece too."

"Yeah, thanks, mom."

Chocolate cake was Barry's favorite, especially like her mom made with ganache frosting and little red rosettes. Her mom had made it for their Christmas party last year. Barry's eyes got all big and round when he tasted it. He'd talked about that cake for the rest of the winter. She was sure he would eat at least a little.

Iris made her way to the back and found Jeanette's three kids, two boys and a girl all long and lean like Barry, the eldest of the two boys with the same flaming red hair as Nora all lounging on the patio furniture.

It was warm for fall. Shirt sleeves, suit jackets, and velvet dresses were all that was needed.

"Have you guys seen Barry?"

The youngest snickered and the oldest glared at him.

"Nope."

The autumn wind blew strong and stiff just then pulling down a rain of bright yellow leaves from the old Silver Maple tree in their backyard. Three sets of eyes studied her.

"My mom said he was out here."

"Haven't seen him," The eldest said with a shrug.

Her frown deepened. Her dad had taught her to pay attention to more than what people said, to what they didn't say. The snicker, the glare, Barry had been out here, and something had happened that much was clear.

"You guys got into an argument didn't you?"

The boy and the girl stiffened, and the youngest one flushed a guilty red.

"About Mr. Allen?"

The oldest boy glared at her and while the youngest boy looked at her in shock at being caught.

"We told him the truth, that his dad is a murderer."

Her free hand clenched into a fist with the flush of anger she felt. Barry was sensitive what this cousin had done was beyond cruel.

"What a horrible thing to say to someone. You guys are ass-holes." Iris rolled her eyes, turned on her heel and went back into the house more determined to find Barry than ever.

For a twelve-year-old Barry was a bit of a cry baby. He didn't do it to get his way or if he lost a game, but if you hurt his feelings his eyes would well-up, and he would sit sulking for a while, or if he got very angry he'd cry. He hated that about himself. If his cousins had said some nasty things about Dr. Allen killing Mrs. Allen he'd definitely be somewhere trying to hide how upset he was, trying to calm down. Some place quiet, dark and cool.

Iris made her way back through the house and hurried up the stairs. She checked the second-floor bathroom, and then her closet where she found him sitting on the floor face red and tear stained, black suit wrinkled. Barry met her eyes, and Iris felt her heart lurch. Her best friend looked so sad and desolate, the light that she usually saw there, the one that made it so easy to smile at him was dim, almost absent.

"Hey, Barry."

"Hey."

"I brought you some cake," she said holding the saucer out to him.

Barry eyed the cake a moment before taking it and setting it down in front of him.

"I didn't know your mom made cake."

"Your Aunt Brittany cut it. I think mom wanted to surprise you."

"Oh. Well, thanks for bringing it up here."

"You're welcome."

Barry scooted over, and she sat down next to him.

"Your cousins are ass-holes."

His lips quirked upwards for a moment. They'd gotten into swearing lately when adults weren't around.

"They really are."

For a long, while they were both quiet the sounds of the steady murmur of voices from down stairs, creaking floorboards as people moved through the house, the drone of the wind against the window panes filled the air. Iris studied the black velvet of her dress picking at bits of lint not sure where to begin but wishing things could go back to the way they were before Nora Allen had been killed.

"I'm sorry about your cousins Barry, about everything with your dad." She'd already told him she was sorry about Nora dying and she was; she liked Nora. Mrs. Allen was warm, kind, she'd seen her be firm with Barry, but she'd never displayed the famous red-haired temper Iris heard so much about.

"My dad did not kill my mom. He loves her."

"I know."

"Do you believe me though about The Man in Yellow?"

Iris didn't believe that Dr. Allen would suddenly stab his wife through the heart, but this man in yellow...

"The Man in Yellow is real Iris."

"Barry," she paused here unwilling to call her friend a liar, but her doubt was present in that one word.

"I woke up, and everything felt strange, there so much static in the air. I didn't tell anyone this, but the water in my fish tank was floating up, defying gravity."

HIs voice was soft, far away. Iris shifted position facing him; Barry had never told her about that night. She'd heard from her dad, but that was it.

"It was not normal. So I went looking for my mom and-" Barry paused here, and she could see tears in his eyes. Iris took his hand, held it, tight.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.."

"But I want to." He looked at her now. "I want you to know."

She held his eyes a moment; there was a desperation there that started a strange nervous feeling in her stomach, she swallowed.

"Okay, but will you eat Barry afterward?"

He stared at her a moment as if it had never occurred to him before nodding and wiping a hand across his eyes.

"I found her in the living room in the middle of a lightning storm. The air was electric. My hair stood on end like when you get clothes from the dryer. Mom was crying; she screamed for me to run. The lighting was all around her, red and yellow and I was so scared."

His grip on her hand tightened, and Iris watched him riveted now. He didn't seem to see her at all.

"There was a man in the storm. A man in yellow and I thought maybe he came right towards me, maybe. But then there was wind and leaves and fog, and it was cold, and I was outside. A police car came so I went with them and they brought me back to the house and mom was already..." Barry looked at her now; the far away look fading, tears rolling down stained cheeks.

"Oh, Barry."

He wiped at his face with his free hand, mopping up tears with his sleeve.

"They said I was twenty blocks away. I heard them; even they thought it was strange. I couldn't have run that far in bare feet. Something strange happened that night, and no one believes me. My dad didn't kill my mom. You don't think I'm lying or crazy do you? You have to believe me, Iris!"

There was desperation in his voice, his hand gripped her hers almost painfully and his eyes wide and intense pleaded with her to believe in him.

Iris nodded slowly. A man in lighting didn't make any sense, but she knew Barry wouldn't lie to her and he didn't seem crazy. Everyone knew for a fact that Barry was twenty blocks away. The neighbors had seen strange lights, lightning even though there was no storm that night. Barry's story fit those facts.

"Yeah, Barry I do believe you."

He smiled then, eyes lighting with it, the first she'd seen in weeks and Iris couldn't help but smile back. And then Barry hugged her not those intense hugs he'd been giving her since his mom died, where he held onto her like he'd never let her go. This was friendly, gentle, what she was used to, the hugs that caused that peculiar flutter around her heart.

"You have to eat now."

"Right."

He moved away from her and picked up the cake.

If Barry's mom had been killed by a man in lightning where did he come from and where did he go? She was too old to believe in stuff like Harry Potter or X-Men, but-

"I'm glad you're my best friend Iris."

His eyes didn't look as bright as they had when she'd told him she believed him, but the grimness in them was lessened, and she could see he was more relaxed now like he had just passed a test.

"Me too Barry."

"Did you want some cake?"

"Mhmm."

A/N- Hey everyone thanks for reading. This chapter is a little longer than the others. I've given Nora two sisters Jeanette and Brittney. Jeanette is the eldest and Brittney is the youngest. Barry's aunts probably won't come off as the best, because otherwise he would've gone to live with them right? Anyway hope you enjoyed it, and take a moment to comment or reblog. Chapter six should be up on Sunday.

[scriptmin]

bite sized — 100 ways to say I love you

Note: Extracted from my semi-scrapped WIP, A Duet to Pass.

Genre: Slice of life, Idol AU / Words: 1.3k 059. “Wow.” | idol!reader x yoongi (P.S. Yoongi is not oppa.)

“I’m sure you’ve done your calculations. What do you say, will there be enough space in your little company for someone like me?”

“My answer coincides with the answer of our shareholders. Big Hit welcomes you, Y/N.”

In the hours leading to their first official meeting, the boys had grown exponentially chattier about what they’d imagined her to be. All things aside, she was a girl (and a very pretty girl at that) and they were, well, they were just boys. 

They had arrived at company headquarters all but two hours ago, each immediately dispersing to work on their various crafts, Namjoon and Jungkook to the studio to record demos, Seokjin, Taehyung and Jimin to vocal practice, Hoseok to dance, and Yoongi to what the boys would call his “personal shrine”. A blatant insult to the prestige that was his very own Genius Lab—not that he referred to it like that out loud—but he supposed he couldn’t argue seeing as how he had in fact been spending more time sitting atop a mountain of unfinished projects than sleeping. Than anything else, really.

It was agreed upon that once she arrived their manager would come and get them, and as the clock ticked closer and closer to four p.m., Yoongi found himself terribly restless and frustratingly unfocused. But alas, a knock on his door had sounded, the boys had gathered, and standing now by the entrance to their usual practice room was the petite beauty that had all of the country absolutely swooning.

“Hello, we are BTS!”

Yoongi almost hadn’t caught on to their greeting, unashamedly enraptured by her sheer presence, but product of habit at least allowed him to bow in time with the rest of the boys. When they had risen, and there was not a sound from the other party, a blanket of inevitable awkwardness had settled thickly over every head in that room. Eyes shifted, heads turned. And it was, of course, ultimately the group’s diplomat who had extended a friendlier hand.

“It’s great to have you in the company,” Namjoon began, “It was getting a little lonely with just us and Homme around. Way too much testosterone.”

There was laughter—their laughter, laughing from their staff, and even her staff, but not her. The enigma standing before them had finally shifted, transitioning from her stiff, straight-spined frame into a more casual gait. Her eyes, highlighted by minimal make-up, had unabashedly scanned each of their faces, right to left, left to right, as she paced leisurely down the length of their single file. It had felt to Yoongi a lot like standing at opposing sides of a border separating two warring countries, except it was painfully apparent which was the winning side.

He never would have guessed a tiny girl like her could amass such power, an aura of crazy charisma dripping from every inch of her flawless skin, leaving near tangible residue in her every step. She had, at last, come to a halt a few paces in front of him, arms still strictly folded across her chest.

“It’s nice to see you all too…” Her voice was clear as spring, crisp like fallen leaves in autumn, and so very cold like the first snowfall of winter. She was, for lack of better word, uninviting. Completely closed off. It was to point that she might not even be completely here, that her mind was perhaps still someplace else, a territory uncharted, unventured. Desolate.

But her hand—her hand was oh-so warm.

And this warmth was receding even before he could fully register the sensation of being in contact with a figure that had existed in an ethereal realm until now. Like catching the severed tail of a forgotten melody and being left to grovel in the loss of something so much more.

“Wow.”

“Excuse me?”

“Uh… I’m Yoongi.”

Her deep mahogany eyes were watching him now, a set of total concentration trained on the expanse of his face. His ears flamed with unnecessary self-consciousness. “I know.”

As she progressed down the line, exchanging handshakes, a name, and an affirmation of her knowledge, Yoongi wondered if any of the boys had felt her warmth as intensely as he did. If it were just his senses going haywire, if it were just him that grew more eager to learn about a girl who could embody every season in the year and still be so wondrously balanced.

“Now that annoying introductions are out of the way, I want to ask one question before I leave to meet with the board. Is that okay?”

Prompt affirmation had slipped from a tongue right beside Yoongi, in a tone so recognizably chipper it couldn’t have come from anyone but Hoseok. “Go for it!”

There was a smile on her face that Yoongi, expectedly, could not decipher. She resumed position in the middle of their militia-like row, her hands now locked idly behind her back as she rocked from heel to toe, toe to heel. This act had initially come to Yoongi as child-like, a quality true to her still very young age, but when his line of sight had traveled higher and higher, stopping exactly at the temptingly beautiful curve of red lips, a dimple uniquely creased on the right cheek, he had arrived at a second conclusion.

When she paced down the line, Yoongi could only assume she was gauging, analyzing, plotting some sort of metaphorical bar graph of all seven of their confidence against her own, which, now seemed to Yoongi to be nothing short of supreme. The light bouncing on the balls of her feet was not a product of idle, youthful fidget, but rather, that of unfaltering assuredness, one that when mapped against the right counterpart, could become mercilessly exceeding—arrogance at its purest.

His analysis was proven the moment she parted her lips and carried her next words in connivingly sharpened blades: “How does it feel, bowing to someone younger than you?”

The question had caught everyone off guard, even her own staff were not spared from the underlying ruthlessness of her words. With every passing second of stricken silence, it had begun to feel less like a question, and more like a statement, one so unfiltered that coming up with a response was likely impossible, and if not, terribly futile.

Which was why she had continued, in all her self-assured glory, “I mean, that’s the thing with hierarchy, right? Which order hurts the ego less… age… or experience?”

But of course, of course the bravest soul was found in the one most ignorant. The baritone hum, the cave-like clearing of throat, had come from a few heads down the row, in the body of golden-skinned, starry-eyed Kim Taehyung.

“I think that’s only applicable to the guys actually older than you. I’m twenty-one, we’re same age. Heh!” And he had delivered this retort so naïvely brightly that even the annoyance that was sure to spark in her eyes could not find greater ignition. The answer had been so innocent one could only wonder the unintended genius behind it.

Her chin dipped, and for a moment Yoongi believed she had been embarrassed, or at least taken aback. “It appears I don’t know everything about you boys yet.” But when she leveled her gaze with theirs once again, he found that was not the case at all. There was not even the slightest dent in her impeccably fashioned façade—it was almost frightening. “Interesting… I like this environment so far.” There it was. That picture-perfect smile of all things evil in the world. “Well, that was all I needed to know. Good luck on your endeavors, I’m sure we’ll cross paths soon. There are only so many places in this puny building that we can go…”

And then she was pivoting, spinning a curt 180-degrees towards the door which had been propped open by her staff in wait, a kind of servitude that was rather foreign to Yoongi’s eyes, but not entirely out of place when someone as royal as her had anything to do with it.

He was just beginning to release the breath stubbornly caught in his throat, as like the other guys stricken to near-death by her overwhelming presence, when her figure had halted all too abruptly, one foot out the door. Soon she was turning, her body moving in hypnotic slow-motion, until she paused at an angle that pointed her face in his direction. And those lips of hers were curving once more, so sickeningly sweet. Then she released her curse:

“Also… it’s been a while, oppa.”

[gabbalot]

Another ask meme 👀

So I was tagged by the one and only @merriemelodie who has a knack for making me feel valid on the worst of days, and also who I NEED TO COME UP WITH A SWEET NICKNAME FOR???❤️

The rules are: Post the rules, answer 11 questions, make up 11 new questions, and tag 11 people.

(Or just break the rules like I do. I tag the same people every time I do these so I’ll give everyone a break. If you want to, but don’t feel obligated: @plsetski, @zestyfiretruck, @stregina, @dednout, @vityanikiforova. For everyone else, I’m just being shy but if you see this and want to do it, CONSIDER YOURSELF TAGGED BY ME! And @ me in your response.)

My questions for people are:

If you could, would you choose to download your consciousness into an artificial simulation of life, where nothing really bad ever happens, and all the good things that you want from life happen in a believable way? Or would you rather live your life as it is now? Why?

If you could pick anything to do for your career, without having to worry about money, what would you do?

If you had to describe yourself with a Wikipedia article, or an article from The Onion, what would it be? 

What is your favorite gif/meme??

If you could say anything to your younger self, what would you say? Would you say anything at all?

If humanoid androids became normalized and easily-accessible in the future, would you choose one as a companion? If no, why not? If yes, who would you like them to be based on?

What is the weirdest thing someone has every told you they like about you?

Which would you choose, and why: Bring your favorite character(s) to life? Or transport yourself into their world?

If you had to become immortal, what age would you choose to “die” and remain forever, and why?

What are your thoughts on Pluto? Is it a planet? or just a rock?

What is one thing you wouldn’t trade for $1,000,000 (or equivalent in your currency)?

And here are my long-ass answers for Melodieee:

Q1. Have any unpopular opinions? Now’s the time to say them. It doesn’t matter what they’re about; whether or not you think people will care about them, or if it’ll change people’s perceptions of you. Just let ‘em fly.

a:- Okay so…I don’t…really like Autumn…and it might…MAYBE..be my least favorite season…?? ? (I’m sorry, I know). I feel like this is particularly offensive coming from me, since I’m currently living in New England, which is well-known for having the most beautiful foliage during Autumn. But there’s only so much pumpkin spice and scarves I can indulge in before I have to face the reality that The Darkness™ is coming. Funny enough, I don’t have much of an aversion to Winter. (That’s a lie.) (I can’t manage during late February - March). (I barely make it to the end of Winter every year). All in all, this article pretty much summarizes my exacts feelings towards Autumn. Beware though, ~* 🚫 Autumn-lovers DON’T Interact! 🚫 *~, you will be enraged. ☕️🐸

Q2. Do you cling to summer, or are you typically more than excited for autumn? (Or do you not have a strong opinion either way?)

a:- Wellll I guess I sorta addressed this in the first answer? Hahaha. Aha. H a. (I still feel bad about it). But I suppose I don’t really cling to summer, because I have this icky tendency to…spoil good things before they are ready to be ruined??? Like “Ahhh, well am I going to feel bad eventually? Might as well get started on that right now!!”. Feeling Bad is the only thing I don’t procrastinate, lmao. But yeah, I don’t cling to summer (I mourn its death prematurely), and I don’t get excited for Autumn, I just do my best not to feel Too bad overall. I definitely don’t cry, because I Am A Big Kid Now.

Q3. What’s something that you’ve been wanting to tell somebody, but haven’t been able/felt ready to? (Of course, if you’re still not comfortable saying it in a public post, then you definitely shouldn’t feel obligated to do it. This is just for fun. ♥)

a:- The funniest thing is that a lot of the things that leave my mouth nowadays are things that I haven’t been ready to say. But I’ve been lucky enough not to word-vomit anything that’s been truly detrimental to my mental well-being. I’m also lucky to have a few amazing people in my life that I’m able to be quite vulnerable with. 

Q4. What would the soundtrack for the film of your life look like? (FOR THOSE WILLING TO TAKE IT UP A NOTCH: if you were to write a Broadway musical about your life, what would some of the songs be titled/be about?)

a:- Let’s see if I can be as dramatic as possible. In terms of a movie soundtrack, I definitely think that the opening scene would be to Tame Impala’s Let It Happen. Once things calm down and fall back into the natural rhythym of grey, expect to enjoy tunes from Radiohead, in particular their track Daydreaming, which plays on repeat in my dissociative head on a regular. When things get desolate, we enjoy The Postal Service’s This Place Is a Prison. When they’re comedic (see: manic), we’re jamming to some Manfred Mann’s Earth Band!! If I could be selfish, I would find my Big Love and/or purpose, and the soundtrack would lighten up with sounds from Coldplay and Active Child. Also, because I am quietly just as dramatic as our favorite witch Georgi Popovich, a few of my Broadway musical song titles include “Sometimes Fireworks Are Silent”, “I’m Sorry For A LOT Of Things, But This Isn’t One Of Them”, “Some Of Us Taste Colors”, “Tequila (TEQUILA)”, and of course “2D Drawings Are As Strong A Medicine As Any”, which has a b-track “Music Is Morphine (Which is Also a Poison)”.

Q5. What’s a poem, story, or song lyric that you think about often? What about it captivates you?

a:- I’ll give you an entire song full of lyrics: The song Bloodstream, which is so aptly named for how deeply I feel it whenever I listen to it. It epitomizes the concept of soulmates for me, which I don’t believe is always a “happy-go-lucky” scenario, sometimes soulmates are just that - a split of your soul, a piece of you in another body, no sparkles and lovehearts, just another self in another form whose destiny is entwined with your own. As someone who isn’t sure they believe in soulmates irl, here’s why the song strikes me - The vocals are a bit eerie, and ever-so-slightly tired. It must be exhausting searching for a missing half. The recurring piano chords in the verses of the song make it feel a little bit like a memory. I imagine that’s what Deja Vu sounds like, which I find to be fitting when you think about all the subtle instances that have connected your life with someone else’s without you even noticing, but sometimes you just feel it. Then comes the chorus, more profound in its intensity, and all of a sudden it’s the realization hitting you like “Ahh, yes. This is the one I can’t live without. I see it now”. And then there’s the bridge, the melody changing again, acting as a flashlight as you wade through the murkiness of Doubt and Uncertainty, and leading you finally to the door of Acceptance. And once you’ve accepted it, and really digested the fact that you aren’t alone, you just float along - adrift but comfortable, because you realize that you aren’t drowning like you thought you would, or like you’ve been all this time. (That was cryptic AF, what does All That even mean??). Idk. I just feel the song deeply and I’m not really sure how to express why. 🎭

Q6. If you had to epitomize yourself with a Wikipedia article title, what would it be?

a:-I think may be Learned Helplessness.

Q7. What do you daydream about?

a:- I have two persistent daydreams lately. One is to lay in a meadow and just rest in a shady spot with the sun’s warmth peeking through the foliage, probably for the rest of my life. I wouldn’t mind being stuck in a time loop if it meant existing somewhere like this or this. I actually have this one saved as my desktop wallpaper at work. I stare at it throughout the day and it brings me peace. The second daydream is imagining what it would be like to go out and get roaring drunk with Yuuri and Pichit. Like…can you imagine the shenanigans??

Q8. What’s your go-to character/kart/track in Mario Kart? (ANY ITERATION)

a:-Toad…..and raiNBOW ROAD BINCH!!! FIGHT ME. #ChaoticEvil

Q9. What’s something people would be surprised to learn about you?

a:- IRL? People would be shocked that I’m pan/bi. Literally no one knows. Friends and family respect that I consider myself asexual, or at least non-sexual, but no one actually knows that I’m not straight. I have hinted on occasion, but growing up in one of the most homophobic and heteronormative societies means that if people haven’t seen you date anything but cis-gendered men (even if it was only for 6 months when you were 14 years old??) then it means you’re straight. Straight until proven otherwise (and simultaneously shunned by extended family for being The Gay Cousin™ ).

Q10. If you could name a crayon/nail polish color, what would it be, and what would the color be?

a:- Tbh, I’m the least creative when it comes to these things, so most likely it would be some sort of holographic sparkly fluorescent pink color, and the name would be “Trophy Husband” (because it reminds me of Victor).

Q11. What’s a question you wish I would’ve asked? ASK/ANSWER IT HERE.

a:- AHHHH THE PRESSURE idk IDK. Ummmmm how about “What do you like most about following me?”. And the answer would be that your tags and writing in general just hit me right in the feels, every. damn. time. Your sense of humor is also A+, it’s never mean-spirited, and you just generally provide a safe space for me to exist comfortably at the end of each day. You’re also incredibly observant, and I feel like I’m a slightly bigger and more important speck in this universe because of you. Thank you for being here ❤️.

THE END.

[kawaiichurchburner]

1, 31, 26, 70 :)

1. A Song you’re ashamed of likingwhy should i be ashamed of liking a song, maybe i dont like the same songs as i used to do 5ys ago but idc its not like a song has to be “trve kvlt” for me to listen to it31. 25 songs to play at your funeral Kiss my ashes goodbye - woods of ypresI was buried in mounth pleasant cemetery - woods of ypresfalling snow - agallochfinality - woods of ypresThe Inevitable end - woods of desolationGreen Cathedral - winterfyllethMaritime Shores - thrawsunblatBlack sky (the acoustic version) - thrawsunblatnecrologue - solstafirsvartkonst - hypothermiasilfur-refur - solstafirohm - shiningHell dwells in ice - behemothobscured - celtic frostthe whole autumn album by coldworldEribo - i collect the stars - lantlosDead of winter - a pale horse named deathshatter - triptykonLike falling leaves - woods of desolationflammifer - summoningbitter reflektion - lifeloverThis dreadful emptiness - austereCapitel I : I Troldskog faren vild - ulverthe ghosts of summers past - woods of ypresand to finish it all offwhiskey funeral by darkthrone26. If you could get any lyrics tattooed, which would you choosehmmm probably something from woods of ypres70. Okay what’s the real answer to number 1see 1 again