#i lost steam on that project and also Hell the last 2 parts of it were going to be a bit much for me i think

[t3tr0m1n0]

would anyone like a color palette in these trying times

[temptingfatetakingnames]

The Last Steve Harrington Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Dinner had been a truly harrowing experience that Steve never wanted to repeat. He would rather fight a horde of Demobats than sit at that table as they all tried to act normal and light and happy. He wanted to scream in their faces or bang his fists on the table – anything to get a real reaction out of them. He was also becoming increasingly terrified of Joyce and her seemingly unconscious need to offer comforting touches to everyone. Get up for a napkin? Pat Eleven on the head. Oh, forgot to get the milk? Rubbed Will’s shoulders on her way to the fridge. The third time she got up, Steve had to grip the table to keep from running. She hesitated for a moment beside him but didn’t reach out, probably because she could see the tension in his posture. He only relaxed when she sat back down again.

Hopper was quiet, but the kids and Joyce kept up a constant stream of conversation, only occasionally trying to draw him in. They failed; he was too on edge to even attempt to speak. The food tasted like ash in his mouth and he excused himself before finishing, doctor’s orders on calorie intake be damned. The silence at the table as he left was deafening. He sat down on the bed in his room and wondered how the hell he was going to do this. He wanted to sink into the floorboards and pretend he didn’t exist. He wanted to run.

Not yet.

He grabbed his backpack from under the bed and counted his canned goods and went over his supplies. The steak knife he had slipped into his sock at dinner when no one was looking was added to the pile. He had plenty of food and could refill his canteen easily, but he needed money.

A knock on the door sounded loud in the quiet of the room. Steve shoved everything in the backpack and put it under the bed before he called, “come in.”

Joyce opened the door, carrying a steaming mug in one hand.

“Tea,” she said as she walked over. “With lots of milk and sugar.”

She set it on the table before sitting down beside him. Steve couldn’t help but bristle at her presence.

“I wanted to ask how you were doing?”

Steve blinked at her. In terms of how he was doing physically, he couldn’t deny that he was better. In terms of how he was doing mentally? He had no idea how to answer that. His thoughts were a messy tangle of grief, anger, guilt, and shame. He thought his feelings on surviving were bad before, but that was nothing to what he felt now – now that he knew what he had done.

He went with the easiest answer, “better.”

It was both the truth and complete and utter horseshit.

“You don’t have to be alright, Steve. I’m going to keep talking to you and asking you questions because I want to get to know you, but you don’t have to answer. I know that you don’t know how to talk to us, and you’re overwhelmed. I guess I just hope that if I keep talking to you like normal, eventually it will be normal. Hopper thinks I should back right off and leave you alone but I think if given the choice, you’ll isolate yourself. So, I’m going to talk and you don’t have to listen and I’m going to ask questions and you don’t have to answer. Is that okay?”

She was right that he would isolate himself if he could. He really didn’t want to talk to any of them. Steve appreciated her explaining her thought process, though. It helped to make sense of why she kept trying to engage with him when he rarely responded back.

He nodded in answer.

There was something he could ask for that would ease his mind more than knowing he didn’t have to talk to her if he didn’t want to. He figured she would want to know if she was serious about making him comfortable.

“Don’t touch me,” he said and after a brief pause added, “please.”

“Of course, Steve.” She held his gaze, projecting sincerity. He remembered his Joyce always being frazzled and stressed… but she had been looking for her lost son and even after she had found him, Will wasn’t okay. This Joyce was calm and… motherly. “I won’t touch you.”

He nodded again and she got up to leave.

“Drink your tea. The green toothbrush in the bathroom is yours when you’re ready for bed and there’s lots of towels if you want to have a shower in the morning. Good night, Steve.” 

She left the door open when she left, which didn’t bother him as much as it probably would have before their conversation. He drank the tea, enjoying the feeling of the warm beverage in his hands, and started re-reading The Hobbit for the thousandth time. The evening passed slowly into night. Steve stayed in his room, enjoying the quiet. He was still reading when Will and Eleven stopped in his open doorway.

“Good night, Steve,” they chorused together.

“Night,” he replied and they scampered away.

It took awhile longer for Joyce and Hopper to settle into bed and even longer before he felt sure that everyone was sleeping deeply. He waited in the hallway and listened patiently for any signs of wakefulness or movement before he slipped downstairs and out the door. The hospital had felt like a prison and Steve needed to know he could leave if he wanted to. Needed to take back the autonomy he had lost when he had walked through that portal.  

He didn’t see anyone, no people or cars, as he made his way down the street and it reminded him so viscerally of his Hawkins that he shivered. He exited the suburb and turned onto Main Street. Passing the theatre, he saw that there were new releases for movies called Predator and Spaceballs, reminding him that time had passed here. That life had moved forward. He had a year to catch up on… along with everything else. Continuing on his way, he passed the middle school and high school and arrived at the playground. Steve sat on the swing set and looked up at the sky.

It was a clear night and the stars shone brightly. He wished he had paid more attention in school so he could know if they were the same ones from his universe. This Hawkins didn’t seem any different from his, so he figured the stars were probably the same too. Steve wondered again what the hell had made him so different? What had affected him or changed him to make him so catastrophically different from all the other Steves? What was wrong with him?

He didn’t have any answers.

The summer heat had gone with the sun, and a cool wind played with his hair. It was beautiful and quiet and he could almost pretend that he was the only person in the universe. That the past week hadn’t happened and he was still blissfully unaware of parallel universes and he only had his own failure to be guilty of. He sat there for hours. Sometimes swinging, kicking until he was as high as he could go, feet pointing at the sky before falling back down to Earth. Sometimes just sitting calmly and looking up at the sky and listening to the crickets sing. When he could see the sky start to lighten off in the distance he made his way back to the Hopper-Byers’ house.  

Hopper was in the kitchen when Steve walked in the door. Standing in front of the coffee maker and waiting for it to finish dripping. He expected him to yell, shout, ask where he had been all night. Instead, Hopper silently grabbed another mug out of the cupboard above him and set it down next to the one already on the counter. When the coffee was done, he poured two steaming mugs and handed one to Steve.

“Milk or sugar?” he inquired.

Steve shook his head and Hopper nodded before jerking his head to the front door. Steve followed him out and they sat together on the porch swing. Hopper didn’t speak again and Steve sipped his coffee and watched the sun finish rising on a new day.

---

Time passed slowly for Steve over the weekend. He mostly stayed in his room, reading or sleeping. He emerged for mealtimes, which didn’t cause him as much stress now that he and Joyce had an understanding. She would sometimes ask him easy yes or no questions that he could nod or shake his to and the kids told him about their summertime days - biking and swimming and visiting the arcade with the others.

When dinner was over, he went to go back to his room but was stopped by Eleven and Will blocking the stairs.

“We are going to watch a movie, do you want to come?” Eleven asked.

A movie could be… nice. Easy.

“What movie?”

“Empire Strikes Back!” Will declared and Eleven glared at him.

“The Breakfast Club,” she argued back.  

They turned to look at him, expecting him to choose. He wouldn’t mind watching both, he loved those movies. He wondered if they chose them because they were Other Steve’s favourites… It didn’t matter, he decided. He wanted to watch them.

“We could watch both?”

They smiled and nodded.

He followed them into the living room, where they began setting up the television and VHS player. Empire Strikes Back was put in because Will had said it first, a rule that Eleven seemed to abide by. Steve settled into the corner of the couch, Eleven beside him and Will on her other side. The iconic music started and the text was rolling down the screen when Joyce came in with drinks and popcorn. Eleven held the bowl in her lap so he and Will could both reach it. The popcorn was cooked perfectly, salted and buttery and Steve had never tasted anything so good.

They finished Empire Strikes Back and were watching The Breakfast Club when Steve started to drift in and out of consciousness. He would wake up, watch some teenage shenanigans, then his eyes would get heavy again. He tried to stay awake, but he was always so tired. Maybe the kids would watch it with him again tomorrow night?

“Code red. Over,” Dustin’s muffled, staticky voice came through the walkie-talkie on the table.

Steve jerked, instantly awake as adrenaline rushed through him. Will leapt off the couch and grabbed the walkie. He hissed into the receiver, “Dustin, you can’t keep using code red to check on Steve. Over and out!” He turned the button on the top, turning it off before tossing it on the couch.

Steve was breathing harshly and staring at it like it was a snake that was going to bite him. He closed his eyes tight. Code red. Code red meant The Upside Down. Code red meant monsters and danger and death. He couldn’t do monsters and danger and death again. It was supposed to be safe here. It was supposed to be over.

“Steve!”

He couldn’t breathe. He needed his bat or his fucking gun.

“Steve!”

His heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest, and his breathing was out of his control. He clutched desperately at his neck and sweater.

“Don’t touch him. Back up,” the voice sounded far away.

What the hell was it now? Had Vecna found out about the parallel universes? Did he follow Steve through the portal? He was going to kill everyone. He was going to kill everyone again.  

“You’re safe, Steve. There is no code red. Everyone is safe. There is no code red.”

He knew he was hyperventilating when a prickling sensation started in his fingers and made its way up his arms. He couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t watch it again. He couldn’t do it!

Please… Please… Please… Please!

“You’re safe, everyone is safe. There is no code red. Look at me, Steve.”

Hopper? What was he saying? No code red? He had heard Dustin say it over the walkie! Steve shook his head.

“It’s okay, Steve. Dustin has been radioing Will for updates, he’s used code red a few times to get a response. Nothing bad is happening, I promise.” Hopper’s voice was even and calm. So calm. Why was he so fucking calm?

Steve slowly opened his eyes. Hopper was kneeling in front of him, his large body taking up all of Steve’s frame of vision. He smiled when Steve met his eyes.

“There you are. Take a deep breath for me if you can.”

Steve tried but couldn’t do it yet. His heart was still pounding but the panic was starting to subside in the face of Hopper’s calm. He let go of his sweater and flexed his hands. He took a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it out slowly. He did it again, and again, and again.

“No code red?” Steve finally managed to ask after his breathing had settled.

Hopper shook his head. “Nothing to worry about, Steve.”

“How do you know? For sure?”

Hopper stood and grabbed the walkie from the couch where Will had tossed it and turned it back on.

He held down the button and said, “Dustin, it’s Hopper. What’s the code red?”

Silence. Steve’s panic slowly started to rise again.

“How’s Steve? Over.”

Hopper looked up and shook his head, exasperated.

“You used code red just to ask about Steve? You can pick up the phone, ya know?”

“I radioed all day but Will and Eleven never answered!” a pause and then, “over.” Dustin’s voice sounded smaller, ashamed. 

Hopper sighed and pushed two of his fingers into his eyes.

Steve reached up and took the walkie out of his hand. It was the same one they used in his universe. He pushed the button and said, “roll call,” with the strongest voice he could muster. 

There was silence for a moment, before their voices all started coming in.

“Dustin. Green. Over.”

“Robin. Green. Over.”

“Lucas and Erica. Green. Over.”

“Max. Green. Over.”

“Mike. Green. Over.”

The longest pause came next before a sleepy voice crackled through.

“Eddie. Green. Over.”

Instant relief. He sagged back into the couch, exhausted.

He looked up at Hopper. “Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle?”

“All out of town. We can call them if you need to hear that their okay.”

Steve shook his head. He didn’t want to bother them late at night. They were safe if they weren’t in Hawkins.

“El? Will?”

“We’re here, Steve,” Will called.

They were standing in the hallway with Joyce, both of their eyes wide and terrified. Steve swallowed down the guilt at causing that expression on their faces.

“El, Will and Steve. Green. Over and out.”

He put the walkie down, closed his eyes, and leaned his head against the back of the couch. Sensing them all staring at him, he opened his eyes again. Now he was just embarrassed that he had overreacted so aggressively.

“I’m alright now. Sorry for freaking you all out.”

“Nothing for you to apologize for. It’s Dustin who’s going to be sorry,” Hopper stated with frightening certainty.

“I’ll make everyone tea,” Joyce said and left the room. Hopper followed her out. He could hear them talking quietly in the kitchen.

Steve was wide awake now, still coming down from the adrenaline rush. He wanted to run to his room and curl into a ball under the bed. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. Will and Eleven came over and sat back down on the couch, their gazes heavy as they watched him. Probably for any sign that he was going to freak out and scare them again.

“We can start the movie over if you want?” Will asked quietly.

He wasn’t going to be able to sleep anyway, and the movie would be a good distraction from his thoughts. He nodded and Will went to rewind the tape before they all settled back down. Eleven sat a lot closer to him than before, and after a moment she reached out and took two of his fingers in a loose grip. Steve had never been so grateful for such a soft and grounding touch. He looked down at her tiny hand and adjusted so their fingers intertwined. She squeezed gently and he squeezed back. Joyce came in a few minutes later with a tray of steaming mugs for everyone.

Eleven and Will were fast asleep before Bender raised his fist in the air, their heads resting against each other.

Steve held the walkie in a tight grip and watched over them, the static from the television flickering in his eyes.

Part 5

@vampireinthesun @just-a-tiny-void

[annoyed-galaxy]

One Moment at Sea

Welp no shame. This is pretty old, but some nice bonding moment between Sparrow and Reaver cause why not. Posted this on AO3 so feel free to read it over there as well but I'll also post it here cause why not.

What was she doing here honestly? Out on the seas in Reaver’s stupid prototype ship. No sails, it only ran off of steam produced by coal that would turn some device propelling the ship forward. Honestly though, this could barely pass as a ship. It was barely bigger than a fishing boat. Sparrow guessed it made sense since Reaver had never tried this out before and there was no point in spending a lot of money on something that wasn’t going to work. So far, it was doing pretty good.

Sparrow was actually impressed. She didn’t take Reaver to be an inventor. But knowing him, he probably stole some of these ideas from someone else and just had the money to actually make it. Sparrow kind of didn’t care. It was pretty peaceful. She stood at the front of the boat, leaning against the railing watching the water part in front of her. There was no land around them, just the open sea. It did make her slightly nervous to be around so much water with no land.

Still, it was the most peace she had gotten ever since...well since she was born. It was kind of sad that this was the only time she had ever experienced peace within her life.

“Enjoying the view?” a voice came from behind her.

Well. Peace ruined.

Sparrow looked over her shoulder at Reaver who was wiping soot off his face. “What were you doing?” she asked.

“Oh well, turns out the coal will run out. So unfortunately I had to shovel more into the engine. Now I’m all dirty,” Reaver complained looking down at his clothes.

Sparrow rolled her eyes and motioned to the open water around them. “You have an endless source of water to clean your clothes,” she snorted.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Reaver rolled his eyes. He joined her at the front of the boat and leaned against the railing. His arm brushed against hers, but she didn’t move.

“Please tell me this thing will get us back to Albion,” Sparrow clucked looking around. “We got this far and there is no longer any sort of land in sight.”

Reaver chuckled. “Of course it will get us back. I calculated how much coal we would need to power this lovely thing and got a little extra. Besides, due to its size, it’s not going to consume much.”

“Yeah about that,” Sparrow started. She pointed behind her to where the wheel was. It was on a deck above what she had assumed was the one and only quarter on this floating hell. There was also a small trapdoor that led to the “engine”. “Why is there only one quarter?” she asked.

Reaver smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Well, to save on space obviously,” he drawled. “Besides, you don’t mind sharing a bed with me anymore do you?”

A blush spread across Sparrow’s face. They hadn’t engaged in any sexual activity, but they had slept in the same bedroll when traveling on the road when it was too cold one night. She had hated that night. Reaver had no problem snuggling up to her, but she was annoyed. Mainly annoyed because she had liked it when he held her. Liked it when had nuzzled his face into her neck. Ever since, they had shared a bed only twice due to similar reasons. Or when there was only one inn room left and it was too small for him to sleep on the floor. She had really hated being in the same bed as him because when he had held her, she didn’t push him away.

A thumb stroking her cheek pulled her out of her thoughts. She blinked a couple times and saw Reaver looking at her with a smile on his face. She frowned, but did not slap his hand away. “Can I help you?” she muttered.

Reaver didn’t say anything, he just moved in closer and brought his other arm around her back. He pulled her into him. Sparrow’s blush deepened and she froze. Part of her screamed to push him away and off overboard, but another part wanted to lean into him.

“Has anyone ever told you you are beautiful?” Reaver said suddenly, his eyes scanning her face. Sparrow had never realized how blue his eyes were before.

“Only when they were trying to get in my good graces or just wanted to throw a random compliment at me,” she grumbled.

“No one has told you sincerely?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. The hand on her cheek moved to her chin.

“N-no,” Sparrow stammered really hating how she liked him now caressing her lips.

“Well, I think despite everything you’ve been through, you are still absolutely gorgeous,” he whispered. “Stunningly breathtaking. I have never met someone as interesting as you Sparrow. You intrigue me so much that I don’t want to let you go.”

“Is that why you kept me around trying to keep me alive?” Sparrow breathed, her breath almost hitching as Reaver leaned in closer.

“Yes,” he replied plainly. “I don’t want to lose my source of entertainment.” He smirked as he said that. Sparrow had half the mind the punch him, but she was still frozen. He was so close their breaths mingled. “I find it interesting how you claim to hate me, yet I have gotten this close and you haven’t punched me or pushed me away,” Reaver chuckled. It seems he had noticed that she was paralyzed and how she liked being held by him.

“What’s the point of fighting you?” Sparrow murmured, looking away. She put her hands on his chest, but she didn’t push.

“So what would you do if I kissed you?” he whispered, gripping her chin with his thumb and forefinger and forcing her to look back at him. She was one hundred percent positive that her entire face was red, even the blue Will lines that traveled across her skin could be red with how much she was burning up.

Again, part of her screamed no, but another part of her really did want him to kiss her. He had kissed her only once and that was right after the balverines had attacked her. But that had been just a small peck on the lips that lasted only a couple seconds. It was right before he offered his proposition to her. It had been a crazy year since then, but now she was on the open sea, in his arms with him literally just centimeters away from her lips asking what she would do if he kissed her.

She looked at his eyes but they were on her lips. Only when he realized she was looking at him did he look up. Sparrow had never really looked into his eyes before. They matched the ocean around them.

Her lips parted just slightly and Reaver took notice as his eyes darted back to her lips.

He took it as an invitation.

Sparrow was overcome with so many emotions when Reaver had finally closed the gap and put his lips on hers. Sparrow closed her eyes and hated how her hands moved from his chest to the back of his neck pulling him closer to her. Reaver took that as another invitation and his tongue broke through her lips. Sparrow was lost in bliss as their tongues danced together. Reaver’s arms moved right above her bottom and he pulled her closer. Their bodies were now touching and their mouths were ravishing each other. Sparrow hated how much she loved this.

Reaver had pulled away from the kiss, but he went to her neck immediately with kisses. They had turned so that Sparrow’s back was against the railing. She tilted her head back as Reaver left delicate kisses on her neck. Then her body lit up when he dragged his tongue from the bottom of her neck to her chin. Her breathed hitched and she really hated how it did.

“I didn’t think you’d allow this, Sparrow,” Reaver breathed, his mouth by her ear now.

Sparrow groaned. “Shut up.”

Reaver chuckled, but went back to placing kisses on her throat. As he was kissing her, his hands traveled down her back and cupped her bottom. She had gasped when he pulled her against him, but by some weird instinct, she wrapped her legs around him. Reaver chuckled and pulled away from her neck just to kiss her again. Sparrow’s fingers dug into his hair, messing it up, as their kiss became more and more fiery.

She hated this so much. Hated how much she loved it. Hated the taste of him. Hated how she felt in his harms. She hated everything about this, but that’s what made it better. They broke apart and were panting. Sparrow’s hands moved to Reaver’s cheeks and she just looked at him. She hated how she was falling for such a selfish asshole.

“Tell me one thing Reaver,” she whispered, caressing the heart mole on his cheek, “did you ever care about anyone before? And I mean at all.”

Reaver raised an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

“Because the way I see it, there was someone you used to love,” Sparrow whispered. “And you lost them. And to make yourself never feel that pain ever again, you isolated yourself and pushed anyone who got too close away...or well just made sure no one ever got that close.”

Reaver’s mouth parted slightly and Sparrow could see genuine surprise on his face. “W-what makes you say that?” he stammered. Odd. Reaver never stumbled on his words.

Sparrow smiled and slid her thumb across his lower lip. “I found some old journals of yours. I couldn’t read them but I paid someone to read them for me. Don’t worry, I managed to erase their memory so only I know your secrets Reaver.” Sparrow’s smile widened as Reaver’s eyes went wide with shock and disbelief. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ve come to realize that you and I are not so different. We lost people close to us and went about that loss in very different ways. You didn’t want to die so you made a deal to live forever. I wanted vengeance but when I found it and lost my purpose, I didn’t want to live anymore. Somehow, I just think that makes us work well together. You don’t have to call it love cause I know you’d claim to be above such feeling, but I just think this was meant to be. At least for a time.”

The entire time she spoke, her thumb ran across Reaver’s lip and her other hand played with a strand of his hair. “Now would be the time to dump me in the ocean and leave,” Sparrow added, her tone suddenly becoming darker. “Or do you sincerely want to keep me?”

Reaver was too stunned to really say anything. Sparrow managed to say things that resurfaced old dark feelings he had refused to acknowledge ever again. She read him like an open book. It made him...nervous. But she was right. He hated to admit it, but he was actually caring for her, beyond her entertainment value. He loved seeing her yell at him, loved seeing her get feisty when people refused to back down, loved seeing her fight. Most of all, he loved it when she kissed him back. When she doesn’t push him away. They were no strangers to giving themselves away to other men and women, but he didn’t think they had ever felt so right in each other’s arms.

He knew he should stop. If he opened his heart again, he knew it would break. Sparrow already gave her life away for him. It wouldn’t be long before she started to wither away. After all, when he saw her on the beach a year later after she made the sacrifice, her hair had turned almost completely white. He knew he shouldn’t let her in, but he couldn’t stop himself. She was too intriguing for him. If he could just ignore the fact that she’d be gone in a few years, everything would be alright.

“Sparrow,” Reaver finally spoke up. “I will never let you go because you are mine. And I don’t like losing what’s mine,” he declared. It was the closest thing Sparrow would ever get to some sort of declaration of love from him, but for some reason, she liked this much better.

She smiled. “Then don’t let me go. Keep me here in this world for just a little while longer.” For once ever since defeating Lucien, she felt at peace, happy. She moved to kiss him and he met her halfway. The loss of Rose would forever haunt her, but she now knew she wasn’t alone anymore. She would stay as long as Reaver kept her here. However, she knew to keep her heart guarded. There was no telling whether or not Reaver would stay true to his word or cast her aside.

But she let herself believe that maybe he would keep her for as long as she lived. When they shared the bed this time, Sparrow let herself cuddle close to Reaver. It was going to be a rocky road from here on out, but she didn’t care. It gave her a new purpose.

[pi-cat000]

MSA: Take Back The Future (part 3)

Summary: Vivi and Arthur travel back in time to the beginning of Hellbent. Neither of them are okay. 

(Part 1) (Part 2)

.

Mystery, instead of answering Vivi’s questions, leaps over the seat dividing the front and back areas of the van, exiting out the back doors.

“Wait, ” Vivi yells after Mystery, “get to back here and explain what happened to my memories.”

/It is not a tale that can be simply told. Not right now when we may be in danger/

Arthur thinks kitsune turned dog sounds slightly strained but it’s hard to really tell with Mystery’s weird telepathy. When the meaning of words are projected right into your brain some of the nuance is lost.

“Who is Shiromori? Why is she attacking us?” Vivi tries, following to glare at Mystery who circles the van, barely paying attention to the two of them. “Just answer one question!”

His mechanical arm twitches of its own accord and he eyes it nervously.  To hell with it. Arthur frees his hand and begins to feel about for the quick release lever hidden under a panel on his upper arm. After the van crash and almost getting thrown to his death, the arm had been too banged up to safely remove, jamming in place.  Best to be rid of it now, before everything when to shit all over again.

The sound of his heavy metal arm hitting the ashfelt draws Vivi’s attention and she turns to give him a quizzical expression.

“Better off then on,” He explains, “Wasn’t really working that well anyway. Hopefully, that’ll get rid of the curse as well.” Honestly, this cruse is the least of his worries.

Vivi exhales and Arthur can see the stress pinching her mouth, pulling it down into an uncharacteristic frown, “If the curse is specifically attached to your arm then removing it might work. On the other hand, if it’s anything like the one that got my memories then who the hell knows what will work. I certainly don’t. Apparently, I don’t know a lot of things.”

The last sentence is louder, directed at Mystery. There is no response from the dog who is staring off into the middle distance, head to one side like he is listening intently for something.  Arthur offers Vivj an uneasy shrug. He has his own questions for Mystery regarding Vivi’s memories, his arm, and the night they both went missing. However, his most recent run-in with dead-Lewis has him quickly reordering his priorities. None of the answers are going to mean much if he’s dead. Again…

Speaking of which… On the horizon, a purple light flares, glowing brightly against the dark backdrop. Arthur’s mouth goes suddenly dry and limbs feel very cold. Yeah, that seamed about right…

/You called this spirit Lewis?/ Mystery turns his head to examine him, expression troubled. /Are you sure?/  

He gives a short nod, eyes darting from Mystery then back to the road. It looks like Mystery is planning something based on how his fur is glowing red. He’d seen a similar red glow on the night of Lewis’s disappearance and during the confrontation outside his Uncle’s workshop. How much did Mystery know about Lewis? The question sticks in his mind, painfully heavy.

“Lewis? You mean the purple fire ghost? The one that caused the van crash?” Vivi steps up next to him, eyes locked onto the truck which grows quickly larger, “How are we going to stop it from running us all over?”

It’s too late to try a drive or run away now. Even if he decides to run there is a steep rocky slope on one side and a sharp climb on the other. If he did make it down by some miracle there was just flat desert and no cover for miles. Arthur doesn’t voice this observation instead commenting in a voice several octaves higher than normal, “I don’t think you need to worry about the ghost running you over. I’m pretty sure he’s only after me. So…ah…maybe don’t stand near me?”

Why? Why was Lewis trying to hurt him? In his mind’s eye, Lewis and Mystery meld together into a nightmare inferno of fire, teeth and death.

“I don’t want you to get run over either.” Vivi’s voice sounds faint, coming to him like it has travelled a great distance. Too much fear packed into too short a timeframe is making it harder and harder to concentrate. The ice at her feet thickens into long sheets, which creep out over the road, freezing it solid. He is probably lucky his remaining arm hasn’t frozen off with how tight Vivi had been holding it. Maybe if he turns into a giant Arthur icicle and he can sit this whole thing out. The hysterical thought momentarily breaks through his mounting panic.  

/Wait./

Arthur can almost hear the crackle of fire and the hum of the truck's engine.

/ You should not be drawing on so much of this power at once! You’ll damage the seal further!/

“I’m not letting Arthur die again. Anything comes near us and I’ll make whoever it is, regret it… that includes you.”

Vivi steps out so she is positioned in the centre of the road.

/I can handle this confrontation. There are still many aspects to the situation that you remain unaware of./

“And how am I supposed to fix that if you won’t tell me anything.”

/ I swear I will explain when there is more time. I only ever wanted to protect you./

“I don’t believe you.”

Vivi snaps the final sentence and punctuates it with a sharp hand gesture aimed at the oncoming truck. Several lines of ice stretch out and down the road, racing away from Vivi to meet the oncoming vehicle. Shining an ethereal blue, the frost coats the road’s surface, smoothing it over. Arthur catches the briefest glimpse of skeletal Lewis before the truck hits the ice sheets and the wheels suddenly lose traction.  The sound of metal crunching is deafening, accompanied by the hiss of water abruptly vaporising. Heat and cold collide in a cacophony cracking ice and explosion of steam.

A flash of bright purple fire. Mystery disappears, obscured by the thick columns of steam. He finds himself being yanked to the side by Vivi just in time to watch the purple truck careen past in a shower of sparks and groaning metal. At such high speeds, it rams straight into and through the guardrails separating the road from the rocky slope. Stunned, Arthur watches it disappear over the edge. If Lewis hadn’t already been dead then Arthur might have been worried. The sound of banging and crashing, as the truck presumably roles several times, has him physically wincing. Scratch that, he was worried. Very worried. Worried enough that it overtakes his mental panic and replaces it with deep concern. How durable were ghosts? He doesn’t know and that scares him. 

“Vivi! What the hell,” He finally manages to spit out, breaking his panic-induced stupor. He tries to rush past her, intent on checking for any signs of Lewis. He promptly slips. The combination of ice and his lack of a second arm throws off his balance and he ends up falling backward. He is saved from a collision with the ground by Vivi who seemed to now have supernatural levels of balance and was unaffected by the slippery surface.

“I …wow. That was… something.” Vivi breaths, examining the road still covered in planes of ice as if not quite believing it.

“Help me to the edge,” He interrupts, trying and failing to stand straight collapsing back on her, “I need to see if he’s okay,”

“Who’s okay? The ghost?"

“Yes.”

"You want to see if the ghost is okay? You said it was trying to hurt you?”

Arthur can practically see the concern and confusion now hanging over Vivi as she looks down from where she's holding him up by his one good arm.

“It’s just…a misunderstanding or something. I…we…might know this ghost.”

“What?”

“Just help me check.” He motions with his remaining arm. Visible through the plums of steam are thicker lines of darkened smoke coming from the space where the truck had disappeared.

....

Note: I’m Sorry to everyone who’s showed interest in this AU but i’m not sure if i’ll continue this since i’ve lost motivation.  Here are some of the more coherent plot notes if people are interested in this AU. Feel free to ask questions if u have any :) . 

...

-   Shiromori shows up directly after Lewis’s crash, distracting Mystery. With all the steam obscuring their vision Arthur and Vivi don’t realise that Shiromori has arrived immediately, and there is enough time to briefly look for Lewis. 

- Lewis makes it out of the truck crash only slightly worse for wear and tries to attack Arthur. Vivi moves to defend Arthur, then Arthur has to defend Lewis and it’s all very awkward for everyone. 

- Lewis sees how scared Arthur is a reconsiders his revenge plot, hesitating long enough to get some dialogue in. 

 - Arthur finally gives Vivi a brief Lewis overview (sans the whole ‘he almost threw me off a fake cliff thing’). Vivi is suspicious and somewhat unconvinced. Lewis is slightly confused when Vivi starts referring to the alternate time line. 

- Not time for further discussion because Mystery is fighting Shiromori and, since he had warning this time, he’s winning. 

(fight scene stuff. Vivi rushes in to do something idk this part is not planned.) 

Vivi overused ice abilities. 

Lewis and Arthur have a moment alone. 

Vivi, slightly untrusting of Mystery, ends up stepping to stop the two from fighting. (Vivi ends up saving  Shiromori maybe??? a parallel  to the original timeline). A dramatic moment where Vivi rushes in ( maybe takes a blow for Shiromori idk would depend on Shiromori’s backstory) and ends up injured. 

- ??? makes an appearance, takes over Vivi instead of Mystery. 

Some background world building stuff

- Vivi’s ice powers might become unsealed and she is vulnerable to ??? (spiritual energy is damaging to humans if too much is used at once or if is not used correctly)

- Yukino family are spiritual channels making them both more powerful and more vulnerable. Mystery holds a seal to the ability and it eats up a tails worth of power to maintain. Same deal with Shiromori, Mystery holds a seal to keep her fully realised abilities in check which also eats up a lot of power.

- The seal is damaged when Mystery is hurt

- Arthur is unaffected by the ice because he’s got some odd time based supernatural power which has bonded to vivi spiritual signtaure as well. This is the reason ??? want to possess Arthur. One possible resolution was for Arthur to figure out how to rewind time to the seconds before Vivi gets possessed, giving her a chance to defeat ???. It takes a lot of power which Lewis ends up giving to him. 

[miss-choco-chips]

College au part 2

Home, a place where I can go to take this off my shoulders- someone take me home (Machine Gun Kelly, X Ambassadors & Bebe Rexha – Home)

They are there for each other, the good and the bad. That’s what family is for, after all.

-.-.-.-.-.-

-I'm so gay -sighed Miguel almost dreamingly, stopping next to Slobo by the doors leading to the backyard.

Blissfully unaware of them, Tim was going through his usual routine of what seemed a mix of gymnastics, various martial arts and parkour, with a side of dancing to spice things up.

His friend snorted without even raising his eyes from the motorcycle engine he was trying to fix. A blasphemy, in Miguel's humble opinion, to have such an amazing view and to not take advantage of it.

-I know.

He dropped to the ground, head resting on Slobo's shoulder, gaze unwavering in his appreciation of slim muscles and perfectly controlled strength. Tamed power to the fullest.

-I mean like, really really gay.

-Yeah, what else is new? Pass me the motor oil.

He blindly patted the ground for it, picking something vaguely shaped like a can and thrusting it to where he thought were the other's hands.

When Tim bends over and starts stretching, Miguel wheezes and drops the can.

-I'm so stupidly, non functionally gay.

Slobo rolled his eyes and picked it up, his other hand going to close Miguel’s jaw.

-Dude that's all old news. Either come here with fresh gossip, be helpful, or leave. I don't need you making a mess of my stuff. You are getting your hormones all over my individual bubble.

Miguel sighed again, eyes almost physically turning into hearts when Tim stretched his arms over his head.

-Fuck, I can’t handle this much inner gay. It’s overwhelming.

-Nothing inner about it, dude. You’re dripping it all over my work station. Can’t you go be a disaster gay somewhere else?

-Tim is here, so no can do.

-Can’t you just ask him out and save us all the pining show and second hand embarrassment? 

A few meters away, Tim had taken out the bo staff and was practicing some moves. He accidentally brushed a branch (a thick one, from the pine tree Kon’s grandparents had made him plant upon moving there), and snapped it in half. He seemed kinda sheepish about it, which was both adorable and terrifying. Miguel was scared and horny.

-He’d destroy me.

Slobo hummed, hand reaching up to pat Miguel in the shoulder.

-Sounds like something you’d be kinda into, though.

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

-This coffee tastes like dirt -complained Tim, while chugging half the pot in one long gulp. 

Distantly, Cassie noted there was still steam coming out of the liquid. Hadn’t Tim just brew it? Also, was it completely dark? No sugar? 

Like her future?

Despairingly, she let her head fall again on the table.

-Why did I get into politics?

-Your pathological need to fulfill Diana’s expectations -replied Cissie, sitting across from her, long hair in what could have been a bun once upon a time but now looked more like a bird’s nest. That had been hit by lighting. Repeatedly.

It strangely suited her. Or it could be Cassie’s adoration for her friend speaking, who the fuck knows.

-Which, I might add -interjected Tim, not waiting for them to say ‘you may’ before continuing. Because he was a rude bastard like that- you invented by yourself. Diana only hopes you don’t end up in jail. And if it's for the right causes, she might even forgive that. 

He dropped to the ground for no discernible reason, back to the cabinets where they kept the fine cutlery they never used. He was staring at the halfway empty pot like it contained the key to conquering mankind.

Knowing Tim, it might actually be true.

-Don’t try to take over the world -she asked, worried he might. Cissie made a confused sound, not privy to Cassie’s internal monologue, but Tim just nodded distractedly, which was all she needed before turning back to her half done paper.

-How are you doing, sis?

-Sis like sister, o Ciss like Cissie? -came Tim’s voice from behind her, probably still sitting on the ground. 

-Yes.

-Oh -the girl in front of her blinked- sorry, you were talking to me? 

-I mean… Tim is not ‘sis’.

-I resent that, I totally could be. Also, seriously, why does my coffee taste like dirt?

-Don’t drink it then. You were saying, honey?

Cassie rested her chin on a hand, elbow carefully to the side of her paper. 

-How are you doing?

-Wondering why did I ever thought studying psychology was a good idea. Why? Who started me on this path, and can I punch them? -her voice raised higher and higher the more distressed she got- Tim? Do you remember?

-Your therapist back in high school got you out of your toxic home life and helped you basically re-build your sense of self worth. Also you like to get into everyone’s business so Kon suggested making a career out of it.

-Remind me to punch him later.

-You could break your hand, and you have an archery competition this friday.

-Kick him, then.

-Got ya.

-Can I just die? -interjected Cassie, phone at hand. Her screen displayed a text sent by a classmate, who updated her on their due date. Apparently, she had calculated wrong and it was way sooner than what she thought- What’s the worst that could happen if I die? I’m sure people would get over it.

-You’d be losing all the progress you made in your career so far -reminded her Cissie.

Tim’s voice joined from behind- Included, but not limited to, that one class you had with the douche professor. Imagine if you lost your progress and had to start over. Imagine having class with him again.

She shivered- That was both incredibly motivational, and unholily terrorizing.

Greta entered the kitchen then. She looked fresh and cute, which was probably due to her having a full night’s sleep.

-Wow, you three have been here the whole night? -she asked, obviously concerned, looking over Cissie’s shoulder at her assignment- Did you guys even make progress? At all? -her eyes discovered Tim’s half assed project, on the place next to where Cissie sat.

If Cassie didn’t love her so much, she would punch her in the face.

Tim sighed.

-I can’t get up. I can’t feel my legs -he admitted. Cassie thinks, she should be worried. Losing sensibility seemed like a serious problem. But, whatever, Greta was here, and she was perfectly well rested. Let her take care of the worrying.

-Tim? Oh my god, are you alright? -she rushed to his side.

-I think the coffee stopped making effect, and my three-on-a-row all nighters caught up to me. Just let me die, Greta. If coffee is not longer working on my body, I might as well let the grim reaper do its thing. 

Cassie couldn’t see her any longer, since she was at her back by Tim’s side, but she could still somehow sense her concern growing.

-Tim... Did you use this bag by the coffee maker to brew it?

-I can’t move my head to look up at what you’re pointing, but I guess I did.

-Oh, honey… that is soil for Kon’s vegetable plot. Not coffee grounds.

-...so that’s why it tasted like dirt. Thank god. Excuse me while I faint.

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

-I think Conner is dead on our living room -announced Miguel entering the kitchen. Slobo, Anita and Greta didn’t even blink, just kept their... poker? game going.

-He’s probably just sleeping -the other man waved a hand dismissively- Did you check his pulse or something?

-Ew, no. What if he’s really dead? I don’t want to touch a corpse. Greta, you go touch it.

-Why me? 

-If anyone will need to put their fingerprints in a veritable crime scene, who better than the only one with no criminal record?

-Tim doesn't have it either, go knock on his door and tell him to do it. I’m about to swindle both these jerks.

-There’s a difference between never getting caught by the police, and erasing all virtual proof of your crimes. Tim belongs to the second group. Also, last I checked, he and Bart were working on something on his room. I’m not approaching that danger zone without protective equipment.

-Speaking of -Slobo raised his head, looking around- has anyone bought them food in the last couple of hours?

-Kon, probably. 

-He is dead -he reminded them- Cassie and Cissie are still asleep, and I’m not waking them up. Greta?

Out of their group, Conner was Tim and Bart’s official handler (when Tim was not micromanaging them all, at least; little control freak).  Many people believed he lifted at the gym to get all the girls; in truth, as the boy had once told Miguel, it was so he could carry both his friends to bed in one trip to tuck them in at the same time, because if he did it separately, the one that got to be second always tried to make a run for it. 

In the event he was unavailable, Cassie took over. Her skills with a lasso and years of practice at the rodeo came in handy then, and it never failed to crack him up when he saw how swiftly she caught them both.

And if she wasn’t close or was busy, then Cissie took over for Bart and Greta for Tim, as they could only handle one at the time.

The rest of them were last resource. Second to last was Jason Todd, who as both Tim’s brother and Bart’s TA held a fair amount of power over them.

If Jason told them to fuck off, then Slobo, Miguel and Anita would talk it out among themselves. Slobo would suggest knocking them out. Which, considering Bart’s speed and Tim’s mindblowing ninja training (and where the hell did he learn that, they would never know), wasn’t a very realistic option. Anita suggested drugs; but between Bart’s ADHD medication and Tim’s antibiotics for his lack of spleen and antidepressants, the adverse effects made them all a little uncomfortable with the idea.

Miguel’s own suggestions, which involved a lot of tender care and coddling, where ignored with a few laughs and a shrug.

-Fuck you, I’m not leaving this table so close to cleaning you both up. If you are worried, you go feed them.

Slobo shrugged.

-If they die, I call Tim’s room. Having a roommate is the worst.

-Excuse you -raised an eyebrow Miguel, walking to the fridge for a drink. He might as well watch the game.

-If I have to listen to you practicing your singing before showering one more time...

-If I can deal with you cursing at your phone at five am, you can deal with my melodious voice -Miguel blinked- That’s not poker.

-We are playing Truco.

-What?

-It’s a popular game in Argentina, or so Tim said. He taught us when he was having a coffee break this morning. And by the way: Truco, bitches!

-I’m in! -Slobo yelled back.

Greta looked at her cards impassively, then at the ones laying on the table between the three of them, before raising an eyebrow- I call Re Truco.

Miguel watched them go for a while. He wasn’t sure on the rules, but from the way they kept yelling, he knew it was highly competitive. It also seemed to involve a great amount of deceit, bullshiting and being as poker faced as possible. It made sense that Tim had been the one introducing them to the game. Speaking of…

-Maybe if I knock on the door with a coffee offering, he’ll listen to me without punching my nose in? -he mumbled to himself, aware that the others were ignoring him. Decided to test his luck, he climbed to his feet and readied the coffee maker.

The rest of the afternoon saw Miguel sitting on Tim’s bed, watching from the sidelines how both he and Bart built… something. It had a chainsaw and a mini shield, so maybe a fighting bot? There were some (not very legal) competitions around campus...

It was almost dinner time when he remembered a tiny, small detail.

-Man, I’m so hungry. You guys think dinner is ready? -asked Bart, hand sweeping the sweat off his forehead- Who was in charge of it tonight?

Lightning-like realization hit Miguel.

-Oh, yeah, speaking of that… Kon was probably dead, last time I checked. Maybe we should order a pizza or something?

-Cool, I could do pizza. 

-I’m sorry, Kon was what?!

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

-You guys need jobs -told them Tim one morning over breakfast. They had just moved in together, and classes were about to start. Nobody seemed willing to talk about responsibility yet, but he felt like they needed the push to do it.

-I have a job -proudly smiled Bart, eyes never leaving the TV where his character was beating Kon’s into a bloody plump. He didn’t elaborate past that, and Tim made a mental note to investigate further later. Bart’s career was enough, they needn't add another unsolved mystery.

-Where is this coming from, though? We have loads of time for that -scoffed Slobo, watching the game intently.

-Classes are starting soon, and people will be getting all the good jobs. I did some calculations, and the money you guys have been saving for living expenses will run out in two, three months tops. Greta has the coffee shop thing and Cassie just got called back from the movie theatre, but the rest of you need to find some money maker. Stat.

-And what about you? -threw Cissie back, internally agreeing with him but despising the reality check.

Tim looked at her, completely deadpan. Silently, he took out his wallet, fishing three cards (one silver, one golden and one black) from it and showing them to her.

-Even before being adopted by a billionaire, I already was a rich trust fund baby. And now that I’ve said it, I’m gonna avoid getting punched by making my exit. Good luck job hunting.

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

Cassie and Anita’s room was ground floor, along with the kitchen, living room, laundry area, a medium size bathroom with a shower, and a very small one with only the toilet and sink. The second floor housed Bart and Conner’s room, along with Miguel and Slobo’s, and Cissie and Greta’s, plus the biggest bathroom, with both a tub and shower. The attic had been claimed by Tim, who won that right by paying the deposit for the house on top of his part of the rent. It was the biggest room, the size of the entire house without partitions, with only one separation in the form of the small sized bathroom. He loved his room, would pay twice what he coughed up to have it. It was worth it, every cent.

He loved his attic; The bathroom, however, was another thing. It ran out of warm water constantly.

-This is the second time this month. I love you, but you aren’t burrowing our bath -denied Cissie firmly, arms crossed as she waited outside the door for Greta to finish her shower-. If it was any other day I’d say yes, you know I would, but you aren’t the only one that needs to get ready for the movie, and there’s six of us sharing here. Go ask the girls.

Defeated but understanding, he went another floor down, arms full with his skin and hair care products (he had a image to keep, and one never knew when paparazzi would be around; he and his brothers had a steady competition on who got caught in camera being a ugly mess the least, that he wasn’t willing to lose) and clean clothes. 

Anita shrugged when she opened the door, still naked except from her towel and hair dripping.

-Yeah, Cassie already took hers. Just remember to lock the door, dude. Since its ground floor bathroom, someone always tries to get in to pee when you’re showering, it’s annoying. Also, don’t come at me with complains about hair in the drain, okay? 

Thankful beyond caring, he nodded and hurried towards it.

He wasn’t expecting what he found there. Already halfway to the shower, he stopped to leave his folded clothes on top of the cabinet near the sink when he saw...

-Why are there weapons here? -he couldn't help but scream, clutching a towel to his naked chest. He felt distinctly like a victorian lady preserving her virtue from a foe. It was a very curious feeling.

-I said no judgements!! -Anita yelled back from across the hallway.

-Yeah, regarding hair on the floor! Nobody said anything about weapons!

-So I forgot my katana there after my shower, big deal. Just don’t fall on it, problem solved.

-No, I’m used to seeing your katana, but why the fuck do you girls have cat shaped brass knuckles?

-They are cute and useful! Aren’t you taking a shower, dude? The movie starts soon!

Deciding that this wasn't a battle worth picking, he turned on the warm water. Ahh, nice, wonderful hot water.

-Oh, Tim! -came Cassie’s yell- Don’t lock the door, forget what Anita said! I need to put on my make up and that mirror is better than the one in our room.

-I’m gonna be showering though.

-And?

Yeah, she had a point. Shrugging, he made sure the door was unlocked before stepping under the water and closing the curtain.

He heard her coming in and rummaging through one of the little bags he saw on the sink cabinet. He couldn't help but ask.

-Why do you guys keep weapons here?

-They are for when we are most vulnerable.

-With thighs like yours you’re never vulnerable.

-I love you. But just pretend I have noodle legs, for argument’s sake.

-Mkay. 

-Well, name one instance when you’re more weak and exposed than when you’re taking a shower.

-...Yeah, I follow. Still seems a bit excessive, but I do like that pointy needle thing you have by the blow dryer. I need to get my sister one of those, cute and deadly like her.

-That? Oh, honey, no, that’s a hair pin. 

-If you put your hair in a bun and use that as an ornament, you’d never be unarmed, that’s all I’m saying. Again, cute and deadly. 

-...You’ve opened my eyes.

-You’re welcome. May I borrow your eyeliner?

-Sure, but why? You don’t usually use makeup.

-If I make myself long enough wings, maybe I’ll be able to fly away from my problems. Or look fabulous enough to not care about them.

-In moments like this I’m reminded of my undying love for you. Do my eyes too.

-Gotcha.

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

He came home five minutes after receiving the text, chest heaving from the run and heart beating furiously for a entirely different reason.

Cassie, phone at hand, was waiting by the door. Her eyes were solemn.

-What happened? -he asked, not bothering with niceties as he stepped in and closed the door behind him.

-Family dinner went wrong -she shrugged-, not that he told me. Bart was playing games when he walked in and he texted Jason, who told him, and then he came to me.

Fuck them, Kon thought uncharitably. The Waynes were both an awesome family, and boarding on toxic. Guessing which kind were they going to be any given week was like playing lottery. It was such a Murphy law thing that they went for shitty this particular weekend, where Tim could have used their love and support the most.

-How is Jason? -he asked, not that he cared too much, but because he knew Tim would want to know sooner or later.

-Bart didn’t say, but he did mention he was hanging out with Kori and Roy, and Artemis said in the family group chat to not bother her tonight, so I’m assuming she’s there too.

-Biz is still at the farm, but three is better than nothing -he sighed, taking off his coat and walking towards the stairs- Bart?

-He just convinced Tim to take a bath in the big tub, so he’s probably standing guard by the door.

A nod, Kon’s steps hurried with purpose now that he had a clear destination in mind.

-The others?

Cassie waved vaguely towards the arch on the wall leading to the living room. Kon could see someone moving there from the corner of his eye, but didn’t turn to check; he wouldn't be derailed from his path.

-Greta went to the attic to clean Tim’s room a bit. You know he doesn't have the strength to do it himself right now, but seeing it like that also makes him feel worse. Cissie and Anita are readying the living room for a movie night, picking up all the pillows and blankets in the house. A pillow fort might be in the making.

They were on the second floor now. Kon could see Bart ahead, back resting against the wall, just by the side of the door.

-Slobo ran to Tim’s favorite pizza place -Cassie kept going, keeping pace with him- and should be back soon; Miguel went to the store to buy comfort food, sweets and stuff. Ice cream too, probably.

Conner nodded again, glad to see everyone was following their protocol for these kind of situations. All their housemates accounted for, he stopped in front of Bart and patted his shoulder comfortingly. He was very empathetic, tended to pick up on everyone’s moods, specially Tim’s, and let himself be influenced by them. The shadows on his eyes were probably a mirror image of how their friend currently taking a bath was doing. Not so hot, apparently.

-I’ll take it from here, you guys go put on your pajamas and help the girls get everything ready -he suggested, eyes going to Cassie’s. She nodded, understanding that her mission now was to calm Bart down. Helping Anita and Cissie would do wonders for him.

On most situations, the group tended to follow Tim’s lead, their indisputable commander in chief; when he couldn’t be there, or was too emotionally compromised, Cassie would take over. However, in this particular scenario, everyone deferred to him for some reason. Maybe because he’s been with Tim for the longest time, maybe because he knew him best. It didn’t matter; all he cared about was that it made his work easier, and they seemed glad to have a task they could focus on, rather than dwelling in concern.

Softly, he rapped his knuckles against the door.

-Tim? I’m coming in, dude -he informed him, voice low as to not spook him if he was dissociating. The last they needed was him slipping in the shower.

When no answer came, he entered the steamy bathroom, door closing behind him. As Cassie had predicted, Tim was sitting in the almost full tub, knees hugged to his chest and chin resting above them. His eyes went to Conner when he approached him though, which was a good enough sign to make him visibly sigh in relief.

Tim’s eyes narrowed, as if he wanted to snap at him that he didn’t need them to take care of him, but then he just deflated and looked ahead again, not nearly strong enough to fight.

Knot growing on his chest, Kon sat by the tub’s edge- Hey there. You’re not looking very cool right now. Have I ever told you I despise like 66% of your family?

-Three out of six is not 66%.

-Three? I only like Alfred and Cass.

-You don’t dislike Jason.

-I mean, it varies from moment to moment. But I’ll give you that since you’re feeling bad, and concede on 50%.

Tim snorted a little, and his eyes didn’t look as dead as they had when Kon first came in, so he gave himself infinite Best Friend points.

-Want to talk about it? -he asked gently, hand on Tim’s wet shoulder. He felt more like saw him shrug.

-Nothing to tell, really… It was more of the same shit. I love them, but sometimes they…

-Don’t make it easy, huh?

-...yeah. I don’t even know why I’m so fucked up over it, I’m used to this.

Kon squeezed his shoulder- Your psychiatrist warned you, this week was gonna be tough even without the family drama.  Your body is adjusting to the new medication, and it…

-Yeah, yeah, I know -he sighs, sinking deeper into the water- I just… I just hate this. That my brain works like that, that I worry you all, that I can’t just fucking deal with it alone. You know what Jack used to say about mental illness…

-A stupid bastard’s words shouldn't be taken seriously. And you know we don’t like the J word in this house, it’s one of the rules.

Tim’s smile, small and tentative, was a thing of beauty. It never failed to remind Kon why he put so much effort into making the situation better for his friend, when he saw that it actually did help.

-You guys can’t just erase my father from my memory by sheer force of will and avoidance of the topic.

-Sure we can -he gave his shoulder a  light pat-. The boys will be here soon with food, and I heard a movie night is in order. You done with your bath? We could stay here longer if you want to, though.

Tim’s smile grew a little bit, cheeks warming, delighted despite himself at the love and care that was being bestowed upon him. Some time ago, he might have fought them over it; the progress was hard earned, but Kon wouldn't change a single thing about it.

-Yeah, I just have to put conditioner on and comb my hair -he hesitated a bit, glancing down at his arms hugging his legs and probably weighing their strength-. Could you, uh… do it for me?

Kon had already been reaching for the bottle even before he asked.

There was little he could do to help Tim, medical wise. But there were professionals for that, and after many late night talks and specially bad episodes, Tim had gotten better at seeking their help when needed.

What he could do was no less important, though; making sure their home was a safe, supportive, non-toxic place for him to come back to.

That’s what best friends-- what family was there for.

[halberdierminister]

I have been here for an entire year.

Within one week straddling late March and early April 2019, I found out that I got passed over for the dream job I was certain I had in the bag, that the writing I submitted to Steam Ticket wasn't going to get published, and the job I had been doing for nearly two years and had seriously begun to loathe was firing me.

I did not recover from this smoothly.

Instead, I didn't find a new job, and months of being short on rent and bills caught up with me very quickly, and I was threatened with eviction. Luckily, a few of my friends were willing to help me with bills so that I did not get evicted, and another friend was willing to let me stay at her house once I had to leave the apartment until I had somewhere else to move to.

That move would be to my parents' new house outside of Sauk City, Wisconsin. They offered to let me stay with them on a few conditions. These conditions are here reproduced without any editing: You will daily look for a job Maintain a first shift sleep-wake schedule No video games No gaming equipment No anime or comics No occult books No hard rock music If friends come to visit, you will remain chaste in our home. We expect your help as we settle in, and that may vary as to tasks You will keep your room clean So over the course of the move, I sold my PS2 and my N64 and gave away my PS4 and my Xbox 360, though I kept the hard drive. I tried to sell my Gamecube, but it wasn't in good enough shape for anyone to buy. I kept my Nintendo Switch, my New 3DS XL, and my PS Vita, figuring I could keep those hidden enough as handhelds. My PSTV I had lent to a friend months previously. I also sold nearly all of my physical video games, my soundbar and my television set.

On June 19th, 2019, with the help of the friend who had housed me and now owned my old PS4, I moved from La Crosse, Wisconsin -- the city I had lived in on and off since 2008 and permanently since 2014 -- to my parents' house. On the way, we stopped in Madison, Wisconsin so I could rent a storage unit. In there I put a bunch of stuff I wouldn't need at my parents' house, including almost everything that they would have objected to. In went my Magic the Gathering cards. In went my anime wall scrolls. In went my comics and manga and Gamecube and remaining physical console games and books like "The Ethical Slut" and "Werewolf: The Apocalypse" and "Things Not Seen" which isn't even about magic or the paranormal but my mom still decided to steal it from my room once many years ago and hide it in the tool shed with my Harry Potter books and Bionicle trading cards. I also felt I should keep my Legos and stuffed animals in there too. But it wouldn't be long before I could find a full time job, get my own place, and get these things back where they belong. Except I have been here for an entire year. I was never supposed to be here this long! I really wasn't! I worked a hell of a lot. Daily looked for jobs. Even found a few. Overworked myself just about to the point of breaking. But just as I finally got a full time with benefits that would help me build a groundwork for the future… well, people realized that there was a global pandemic going on and shut down stores. My company laid off everyone who had been there 90 days or less. And I mean completely laid off with absolutely no promise of a return. My boss said that if they manage to get to a place where they could hire new people again, they would love to have me back. But she also said that she doubts that they will be in that position any time in the foreseeable future.

So.

I am still here. Which is not to say that it has been a complete wash. After all, as devastating as it was to lose my job, I cannot imagine how much more devastating it would have been if I had been living on my own and had to worry about rent or food. It really is too easy to dwell on the feeling of failure that comes from realizing I have been here for an entire year. I suppose I had better take stock of all the good things that have happened and that I have accomplished since I moved in. 1. I finished my writing portfolio, a project I started for a class in 2013 and had been absentmindedly poking at since then.

2. I rebuilt my entire resume from the ground up. 3. I read a total of 54 books in 2019. Not bad for only having read 2 the year before. 4. I started volunteering at the Sauk City Public Library, which has been fun and fulfilling. 5. I have been hired at Target, Madison College, PrePlayed and Half Price Books. I even managed to work several weeks between 40 hours and 65 hours, something I didn't think I was capable of. I may not have those jobs anymore, but being hired four times in a year is nothing to sneeze at. 6. Except I haven't been hired four times. I have been hired five times. The library was so impressed with my volunteering that when a position for Library Assistant opened up, they asked me specifically if I wanted it. Though I originally turned them down in order to work at Half Price Books, I was pleased to find that it was still open once I had lost my job and once libraries were re-opened for curbside checkout. So I asked and they hired me. It's only part time, but it is far better than nothing. 7. I have read a total of 66 books this year and we are not even at the halfway point. 8. I have finished writing two long-form fics: the poem fic The Revelation of Takaya According to Jin and the literal actual novel A Legitimate Businessman. In fact, at least 30,000 of the words for A Legitimate Businessman were written since I moved in here. That's some pretty hardcore proof that I can actually write an actual novel, something I assumed I just did not have in me. 9. I have paid off thousands of dollars in debt. All that remains is two friends and my student loans. I do not expect to pay off my student loans. 10. Through working at PrePlayed, I acquired for free two PS2s, an Xbox 360, one or two more Xbox 360 hard drives, and a Wii, which I gave to a friend. I have acquired at low cost two wireless guitar controllers for Rock Band, a PS3, and all the controllers and cables I needed to make these and my gamecube work again. I also got a bunch of games and a Gameboy Micro. On Black Friday, I purchased a steeply discounted new PS4 Slim. All of these now reside in my storage locker, except for the Gameboy Micro and the PS4, which are hidden in my room alongside my handheld systems. My hubris may be showing, but so far I have not been hit with a consequence. 11. I bought myself a new ukulele as an upgrade from the one I bought in 2011. It has a built in tuner, a neck strap, and a jack to plug into an amp. 12. I am now paying my own cell phone bill, which I have done reliably for an entire year alongside my storage locker bill. 13. I have gotten three works published this year so far and may still yet have a few on the way. 14. I've made more through Redbubble in the last year than I ever have before. In the process, I have learned a lot more about graphic design. 15. I may not be writing every day, but I am writing MOST days, something that was certainly unthinkable even last year, let alone two years ago. So. There still is lots of work to do. I still need a full time job. I will likely need to rebuild my entire resume from the ground up AGAIN. I still want out of this place. I still need a way to be authentically me. But my parents have been supportive and caring, even with their restrictive rules. And the environment has probably been less restrictive than I imagined it would be. But there's so much I still want to do and so many things I still want to be that I do not feel I can do or be here. In exactly three months, I will turn 30. I truly, truly, truly hope by that time I will have a concrete plan to get out of here. But I guess I have still done a lot.

[eloarei]

1, 2, 3, 7, 9, 13, 17, 23 (some of these are random and some aren't)

Thanks for the many questions, Socks! Sorry I didn’t answer them earlier; I decided answering asks on mobile sucks.  ALSO, this is going to be super long haha sorry.  1.  Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?       Well, my most current project is one I just started brainstorming. It’s (hopefully gonna be) a Fallout 3 series, with my latest fic being the starting point. LW/Fawkes is a ship I liked immediately when I played the series some years ago, but I never got around to writing for it, probably in part because there’s already a super good longfic about them, and I just didn’t think there was much else I could say. But my LW is different from Choco’s LW, and lately I wanted to start something self-indulgent. Although I have enough ideas for this to maybe be a single 30k fic, I’m choosing to do a series of shortfics instead, so that I’m not burdening myself with another long project. Fic series are great in that way, because it’s basically complete with every new fic.       On top of that, I have... probably 3 other things I want to make significant progress on this year. First is another Fallout fic: Same Heart. I’ve posted 8 chapters already and have almost 2 more done, but due to the slow-build nature of it (and my tagging) I don’t expect to have almost any readers until at least chapter 10 (when the ship characters finally meet). I’d like to at least get that far this year.       A project I’d love to finish by fall is the unreleased “The Wilderness”, a Venom zombie AU that I started for NaNoWriMo 2 years ago. It’s about 55% written, and my goal is to have as much of it done as possible before the sequel movie comes out. If it’s not done by then, I still plan to post whatever I have.       And lastly-ish, my novel... thing. Rogue. I’m in the process of editing it, although I’ve taken kind of a break lately. And as soon as I’m done with the edits and can get a couple of people to read it (just so they can tell me if certain parts are stupid and need changed) I plan to start the next book in the series... which will probably end up being book #1, actually, if I do them modern-era chronologically. It’s... gonna be a process. ^^;  2.  Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project.       In my upcoming FO3 fic series, I’m honestly just kind of weirdly looking forward to... how do I put this? Exploring my own vaguely-traumatic experiences through fic. I’ll always do a happy ending, if possible, but before we get there I really want to run these two through the ringer of... being given something they were led to believe was impossible, being judged for it, having it taken away, and then being told “well maybe it’s for the best”.       When it comes to future projects, I guess I’m really excited about writing the new Rogue book. “Reaper”, I guess, is its unimaginative working title. I’m anxious about it, because I thought Rogue had some really deeply emotional scenes, and I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to accomplish that as well with this new one, simply because the characters don’t have the same level of desperation about each other. I need to figure out what’s unique about their dynamic and push that. I guess I’m looking forward to the challenge.  3.  What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)       Hmm gosh. Technically there’s a scene in the later chapters of Mobius that I already wrote, but it wouldn’t take place until probably chapter 3 or later, and I just lost all steam on that fic, sadly. But every time I poke through my notes I make myself cry reading it. It’s a scene where one character knows it’s going to be the last time he sees the person he loves most, and he can’t explain his pain to anyone. I really just want to get there so I can see if it makes other people cry like babies haha.       But on a completely unrelated note, there’s also this ZADR fic I started writing in like 2009, and I absolutely didn’t want to do the work to get to the fun middle scenes, but basically it was an AU where young adult Dib went to live/work in the thriving multi-species space community, where he’s... I dunno, studying alien biology I think?, and he ends up with Zim as a roommate. The scenes I really wanted to write were about the two of them getting into like a bar fight with some tough types, and Zim gets his pak ripped off/damaged in the process, and Dib has to sort of take care of him through a horrible fever. But then it turns out that the pak was not a life-support system like they thought, but actually a growth inhibitor so they (the people in charge of the Irkens) could choose who became the Tallest (the leaders). (And also it hindered reproduction, etc.) So basically the two of them accidentally start to unravel a galactic conspiracy which also involves corruption in the Earth government, etc, and Zim gets taller but spoiler alert, he still doesn’t get tall enough to challenge the Tallest lol. Sadly, I doubt I’ll ever actually write that fic. Sounds like too much effort lol.  7.  What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?       That’s such a hard question. Ummm. How do I put any of that into words? ...I think one of the things about my writing is that a lot of the time nothing really happens in a scene, and the story mostly focuses on a character thinking. Like, enough happens so there’s something for them to think about, but I think I tend to put a lot of emphasis on POV character’s thoughts, to the point of sometimes seeming stream-of-consciousness. I’ve been told that this makes my stories feel alive though? So I think it appeals to some people, though I’m sure others would find such stories boring.       Oh also, somewhat along these lines, I like to add commentary that is only somewhat relevant, usually in parenthesis at the end of a sentence or paragraph. (Honestly, it’s not unusual to see one in every paragraph if I’m writing something slightly humorous.)  9.  Are you more of a drabble or a longfic kind of writer? Pantser or plotter? Do you wish you were the other?      I would LOVE to write primarily longfics! However, I just don’t have the time or energy for it, and I don’t write fast enough. So I end up with a lot of oneshots under 10k. I had to challenge myself to learn to write short things though, and then it’s really about writing something short, not about writing a specific story.       Generally, I’m both pantster and plotter. I tend to write the first chapter/few scenes/maybe as much as 10k, just by the seat of my pants. After that, I look at what I’ve got and write out a plot to continue from there. Plotting everything out before I start just doesn’t work for me, but if I try “pantsing” anything longer than 15k I know I’m gonna have an absolute torturous hell of a time.  13.  Do you share your writing online? (Drop a link!) Do you have projects you’ve kept just for yourself?      Lol I think anyone who’s reading this knows I share my stuff online. Primarily on my AO3, though there’s some other stuff floating around here on tumblr too.  Most of the time if I keep something to myself it’s only because it’s not finish enough to share. So, sure, there’s plenty of that, but the goal is always to share it eventually. If I ever get around to finishing a novel, those will probably be the only things I don’t just post online. (Though I do post most of my OC stuff currently.)  17.  Do you think readers perceive your work - or you - differently to you? What do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or your motivations?       I think that inevitably my readers will always perceive me and my writing a bit differently than I do. That’s just... interacting with people. Nobody knows you entirely. However, I am as open and honest in my writing as possible, and I actually think that reading my fic is the best way to get to know me. I like to hope that I am an open book to anyone who has read many of my words. =] While you may not know the details of my life, I think you would have a good insight into my personality.    23.  What’s the story idea you’ve had in your head for the longest?       Like... my oldest fic/story that I’ve never written or posted? Not counting stuff I’ve consciously abandoned (things from middle school, mostly), my original fic series, “Damsel and Company in Distress” aka DamselCo. is definitely my oldest story. I think I started fiddling with it in 2006-- which makes it pretty disappointing that it’s gotten next to nowhere. XD; But the story is my baby, and it’s been my baby for so long that anyone who’s followed me ever is probably at least vaguely familiar with a few of the characters.  Now maybe one day I’ll actually give it the attention it deserves, though I’m sure it’ll need significant revamping. After all, a lot has changed in 14+ years. Ideas that were new and subversive then are probably already stale. 

[mayquita]

The Art of (Fake)Dating - (3/5)

I still can't believe I managed to finish this chapter in such a short space of time, at least for my standards. Anyway, I can't seem to stop writing this story even though I got like a million other things to do. But when you get a stroke of inspiration you should take advantage of it, right? @shardminds​ this is for you, darling. :) Thank you, everyone, for all your comments, notes, likes, kudos and reviews.

(This is unbeta'd, so I apologize in advance for the many mistakes and nonsense)

Summary: When Emma agrees to be Killian’s fake girlfriend she expects it to be a one-time thing. However, and despite getting an enemy in the form of an overprotective brother, she ends up becoming an expert in the art of fake dating even though she can’t stand her fake boyfriend, at least at the beginning.

Ao3 / FFNet / Part 1 Part 2

// 

The Art of (Fake) Dating - Part 3

Liam took his time to prepare the hot drinks, keeping himself in a stubborn silence broken only by the sounds caused by his task, so Emma had no choice but to wait sitting on a stool at the kitchen island. This awkward silence, far from making her feel uncomfortable, allowed her to at least regain her composure and meditate on what had happened since she had accepted this stupid plan.

She had never found herself in such a surreal situation, about to be lectured by her fake boyfriend's brother on Thanksgiving night and after having witnessed a performance in which said fake boyfriend pretended to have sex with her with the sole purpose of bothering his brother. It was almost like being part of a hilarious scene from a typical romcom.

Okay, the scene might not be funny, at least Liam's serious expression while preparing the hot chocolate showed it, but that didn't stop the beginning of a chuckle from bubbling in the back of her throat, so she had to press hard her lips together to hold back the incipient laughter.

"How do you prefer your chocolate, lass?" When Liam turned his head to address her, she made an effort to keep her back straight and a neutral expression on her face.

"With whipped cream and cinnamon if that's ok, thank you."

After uttering what seemed like a sound of approval, Liam returned his attention to the stove, ignoring her presence again. It was obvious that he didn't know her at all if he thought that with that attitude he was going to make her nervous. It was rather the opposite, with each passing minute she gained more self-confidence. You wanna play? Let's play, buddy.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Liam took a seat next to her while he handed her a steaming mug. Still, he kept his silence, focusing his attention instead on the mug between his hands. His expression was quite cryptic, though, so Emma couldn't tell if Liam was reluctant about how to approach the issue he wanted to deal with her or if, on the contrary, he intended to intimidate her in some way. She suspected that the latter option would be the most likely, so Emma convinced herself that it didn't matter what Liam could hold against her. He was no one to her, she was just playing her role in a farce. None of this was real.

While she waited, Emma took a sip of her drink. Damn it, it's delicious. She kept her lips sealed, though. It wasn't like she had any intention to compliment him, especially when she hadn't yet managed to figure him out. After the second sip, the hot liquid sliding down her throat seemed to have its effect, pushing her to act. She already was so done with the waiting.

"Is this like a protective big brother talk where you want to make sure I'm good enough for Killian?"

Liam clicked his tongue, placed his mug on the counter and finally — finally — looked her straight in the eye before answering. "No, because I already know you're not good enough."

Whoa! Straight to the point. Good, at least he had already shown his cards. Now it was Emma's turn to continue playing. She also put the mug on the counter and then she crossed her arms over her chest and slightly raised her chin in a defiant attitude. "Oh, so now I'm not good enough for your little brother. Enlighten me, please." Emma hoped she had endowed her words with enough sarcasm for him to notice.

The change in Liam's expression was immediate. His features hardened as he also crossed his arms over his chest and kept his gaze fixed on her. "I've taken care of my brother since we were both just children and I can assure you that I will continue to do so until my last breath. So that means than I care about anything that might affect Killian in one way or another."

Liam paused for a moment, but since Emma remained silent, he continued speaking, somewhat maintaining a defensive attitude. "I have no idea how much you know about Killian's past, but at least I suppose you do know about his accident. He gave you some explanation about the loss of his hand, I take it?"

"I do know about his accident," Emma replied in a calm tone.

It was true, she didn't know all the details, but she did know about the most important thing, that in that accident that happened sadly on Killian's birthday more than five years ago he had not only lost his hand, but also his fiancée. And she knew all this not because Killian had confessed to her —their relationship wasn't that close after all— but because of other circumstances that, she really preferred not to remember at this moment, although she suspected that they would somehow come out at some point during this conversation.

"And do you also know that, before the accident, Killian had aspirations, projects, and a promising future? And that all that was truncated not only by the accident but by his subsequent decisions?"

Emma's face must have revealed the confusion she was feeling because Liam's lips moved drawing a smirk of little authenticity behind it. "Of course you don't know. Well, let me enlighten you. Despite my insistence that he move here to Boston, to allow us to help him, he decided to move to a bloody town in the middle of nowhere and start working as a simple bartender in that dreadful bar. Even its name, The Rabbit Hole, suits the town."

The way he said the last words, almost like spitting them out with disdain, caused her blood to start boiling in her veins, but she remained silent, biting hard the inside of her cheek to try to hold back any possible reply. Emma also reminded herself that none of this was real and that nothing Liam could tell was going to affect her. She knew from experience that sometimes it was better to wait for the right moment and not act impulsively, so she simply raised an eyebrow in a defiant attitude, before asking, "and this is where I come in, I take it?"

Before continuing, Liam narrowed his eyes, as if studying her. After the brief scrutiny under which she remained impassive, he finally offered Emma some juicy detail directly related to her.

"It's funny because when Killian confessed to me a few weeks ago that he had started dating someone I had the hope, at least for a moment, that whoever the chosen girl was, she would talk some sense into him and would get him out of that hole, quite literally if you know what I mean." Liam let out a humorless chuckle at his own pun. Emma instead, had to make an effort to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. "But then he confirmed that it was you and all my hopes went to hell."

This time Emma couldn't help but huff as she shook her head. "You don't even know me."

"Oh, but I do know enough. No offense, lass, but, honestly, what would you think of a person who hated my brother from the beginning for no apparent reason? Someone whose feelings changed magically to the point of suddenly deciding to start dating him? How is someone like you, with no family, no aspirations, without a future, supposed to help my brother?"

Okay, she had had enough. Emma didn't need this kind of gratuitous crap in her life. Just when she was intending to get up, Liam reached up his arm, palm forward. "One last thing, if you allow me. It seems obvious that my brother fancies you for some strange reason, so I suggest you, if you care in the least for Killian, you should do what is necessary to keep him from being stuck in that life without a future. You should push him towards us, his family, who can really help him."

Emma considered for a moment to ignore him completely, go up to her (their) bedroom, grab her belongings and get out of there like a bat out of hell. But Liam had managed to piss her off enough for him to earn a few retorts at his level.

"Are you done?" Only when he nodded sulkily, did she continue. "Good, because it's my turn now. And you better get settled, because this is going to take a while." Emma silently gloated over the fact that Liam's grumpy expression continued to accentuate. And this is just the beginning, buddy.

"Well, we better start now to finish as soon as possible." He threw at her in a challenging tone.

Oh man, how she was going to enjoy this unexpected situation.

Maybe if all this were real, if Liam was her actual boyfriend's brother, she would think twice before acting, but given the unwarranted situation she found herself in, she really had nothing to lose.

"Okay. Here we go. First. It's commendable that you've taken care of your brother since you were kids. I guess it's something families do, but how would I know?" Emma shrugged, her lips drawing an exaggerated pout. "As you well indicated before, I have no family. I've never had one, in fact." Emma added to give even more drama to her speech, ignoring the pang in her heart after uttering those last words and focusing on the matter at hand, holding her finger up to stop any attempt at reply by Liam. "However, Killian is a grown-ass man, capable of making his own decisions. He doesn't really need you or anyone else."

"If you aren't able to see that he does need help..."

"I'm sorry, but I didn't ask for your opinion." She hastened to cut him off. Although Liam kept a challenging attitude, he must have thought better and pressed his lips together into a grim line. "If it is not too much trouble I'd like to continue, because this absurd situation is giving me a headache and I'd like to go to sleep. Yes, with your brother next to me. It's what happens when you got a boyfriend, you get to sleep in the same bed and sometimes you have an extremely good time in it."

A furious red tinged his cheeks, causing her to almost step out of her role and burst out laughing. At least he kept silent, so, after taking a deep breath, she continued. "We agree on that, but you know what? I don't remember seeing you in Storybrooke on the days when he needed you the most."

"That's because he continues to push us away." Liam hissed, clearly upset, but she ignored him.

"Oh, it's so easy from your privileged position to decide how another person should live his life." She waved her hand to encompass the entire house in a way to emphasize her words. "But in the difficult moments, on those dates, and you and I know what specific days I am referring to, those who have come to Killian's aid have been his coworkers, his friends, the people who care about him back in Storybrooke. Where were you, Liam, on Killian's last birthday? Certainly not in Storybrooke."

"He doesn't want us there." He snapped, but she might have hit a nerve because his defiant attitude had deflated considerably. Emma almost felt sorry for him, because all his bravado seemed to have left him, but then she remembered all the hurtful words he had thrown at her face and any hint of pity disappeared. 

"And it doesn't surprise you? I wouldn't want someone like that by my side either, someone who thinks he has the right not only to decide for me but to question my own decisions, no matter how close that person was."

"I just want what's best for my brother." Liam insisted, regaining part of his confidence.

"I know it, and you've already made it clear that I'm not good enough for him. Which brings me to the next point. You don't know me, but wherever this relationship takes us, it's up to him as much as me. You don't get a say in this." 

"I did not intend to interfere in your relationship, lass, but to get an ally in you." It was a poor justification, neither his voice nor his expression were convincing and they both knew it.

Shaking her head, Emma finally got up ready to leave the kitchen but before, she turned back to him wearing what she expected was a triumphant expression. "It's a bit unfair, don't you think? Your brother and I have only been together for a few months but you've decided to blame me for something you haven't achieved in the past five years." Emma was surprised that her voice didn't even tremble when she released such a lie.

To his credit, Liam seemed uncomfortable, his elusive gaze and his clenched jaw at least indicated so. She had one more thing to say, though.  "One last piece of advice, if you allow me. Maybe you should rethink your strategy towards Killian. But who am I to offer advice? I am nobody, right? " This time Emma could not help a hint of bitterness in her voice, but she recovered quickly to give the final blow. "The chocolate was delicious, by the way. And now if you'll excuse me, I suddenly felt like waking up your brother and showing him how much I want him, so you better be prepared for any unusual noise. Good night."

This time Emma did go out of the kitchen leaving Liam, who seemed partially defeated, all alone. At least she had managed to leave him without arguments. She should consider it as a triumph, right? In fact, that was how she felt, like a winner. Their argument had meant such an adrenaline rush that she felt her whole body vibrating, a surge of energy gripping her as she climbed the stairs up to her bedroom.

That determination weakened as she approached her destiny, being replaced by a mixture of feelings. Emma was so mad at Killian for putting her in this situation that she was tempted to wake him up and send him to sleep in his car, the one he so much had insisted on driving. But there was another feeling struggling to emerge, guilt.

Somehow Liam's words had gotten deep into her. She shouldn't feel guilty, they were just acquaintances after all, although that didn't stop her from having witnessed some of his low moments. Except for the momentary assistance in his few episodes of grief, she had done nothing to help him overcome his loss.

After letting out a deep sigh, Emma shook all those turbulent thoughts away and focused on her most immediate concern, how to face her encounter with Killian after the intense talk with his brother.

When she entered the bedroom she realized that she could delay that concern at least until the next morning, as she found Killian sound asleep. 

She was so upset with him... But when she saw him there looking even younger with a placid expression on his face while he slept, she didn't have the courage to wake him up to yell at him, so she couldn't do anything but sneak into bed, trusting that he didn't notice her presence.

The moment she laid down, she felt a strong arm around her waist pulling her back towards a solid body. "Go to sleep," Killian mumbled against her ear as he tightened the hold of his arm on her waist. 

Emma remained still for a few seconds, not even daring to breathe, her heart beating frantically in her chest. The whirlwind of emotions was so intense that she felt a bit overwhelmed, but when she noticed his breath caressing her skin and the warmth emanating from his body against hers, she gave up. After taking a deep breath, she allowed herself to melt under his touch as she grabbed the left arm wrapped around her and held his stump between her breasts. That was how she finally fell asleep.

//

When Emma woke up the next morning she was alone in bed. Her brain needed a few seconds to start working, so she allowed herself a few seconds huddled under the covers, surrounded by the sensations her senses captured.

The light that filtered through a slit between the curtains caused Emma to blink a couple of times until her eyes adjusted to the brightness of the bedroom. She reached out her arm to find a cold and empty space on the other side of the bed, so she deduced that Killian had woken up a while ago. She still wasn't sure if she felt relieved or irritated by that fact.

What her ears caught next, muffled voices coming from somewhere on the ground floor, caused her to want to curl up again and bury herself under the covers. Although Emma tried to prick up her ears, she was only able to identify the owners of those voices, the Jones Brothers, and some rambling words that seemed to indicate that they were not having a calm conversation.

A heavy sigh escaped between her lips, as she squeezed her eyes with one hand, the reminder of her previous conversation with Liam finally coming to her mind and causing an even less desire to leave the shelter offered by the bed.

In the end, curiosity overcame her, so, although reticent, she sat up and walked stealthily to the door. She poked her head through the slit, glancing up and down, finding that the coast was clear. The voices could be heard more clearly from that position but the sounds still came muffled, so Emma had to make an effort to capture anything that revealed the subject they were talking about.

My girlfriend, how dare you? she is so full of herself... Emma was able to understand a handful of words perfectly, getting to clear up any doubt about the reason for their discussion. So the secret conversation was no longer a secret. She let out a huff of annoyance as she turned back to the bedroom and grabbed her box of toiletries and fresh clothes, then headed to the bathroom for a quick shower.

When Emma left the bathroom a few minutes later, she found that the discussion wasn't over yet. She would even say that the argument had become more heated. Doubting whether it was convenient for her to make an appearance or not, she finally decided that it was more reasonable if she returned to the bedroom and waited there. She had definitely had enough fighting with people she barely knew.

Emma had been in her bedroom for less than two minutes when a soft knock on the door caused her heart to jump until it almost popped out off her chest.

"Emma? Are you awake?"

A sigh of relief escaped from her mouth when she detected that it was Elsa the one on the other side of the door. "Yes, come in."

Whatever she thought she would find was certainly not Elsa with a contrite expression. She walked reluctantly to stand right in front of Emma, a light pink hue adorning her cheeks, her eyes cast down to the floor. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Elsa seemed to regain her composure, as she finally looked into Emma's eyes, her lips drawing an apologetic smile.

"I'm so sorry, Emma, for everything. And I don't mean only the discussion you had yesterday with my husband but also that Killian has heard about it because of me. He caught us a while ago arguing in the kitchen."

"It's okay. I'm fine." Emma assured her with more certainty than she really felt.

"No, it's not okay. Look, can we talk? It won't be a lecture, I promise." Emma simply nodded and then they sat on the bed, side by side.

"I'm so sorry about what happened yesterday with Liam. His behavior is inexcusable, no doubt, but, you know, he cares too much, about everything." Emma was tempted to reply but Elsa continued talking. "Don't get me wrong, I'm so mad at him that he's going to sleep on the couch for the next few days. But, we really care about Killian. Maybe we put it the wrong way, but we do intend to offer him any help that he decides to take."

"Okay, I get it. But, honestly, that's a family issue. I still don't understand why your husband took it against me. I don't know, maybe, although it's still too early to value it, our relationship eventually turns out to be just a passing thing and you would be worrying about nothing." Emma realized at that moment that her speech was the closest she had been to being honest with them. The expression of disbelief that crossed Elsa's face indicated that such a possibility was something she hadn't considered.

"Do you know that you're the first girl he brings home after the accident? I don't want to put any pressure on you, you obviously don't deserve it, but I have a feeling that your relationship may become quite serious and, although my husband may have a strange way to show it, we cannot be happier in that regard."

Emma couldn't help letting out a laugh of surprise. "A strange way to show it, we agree on that." She shook her head in disbelief but continued smiling until Elsa did the same. Emma decided then that she liked Elsa, even she would probably place her as her favorite person in the house except for the children, of course — She still hadn't decided if she was still mad at Killian. Meanwhile, he would continue below Elsa on that mental list of hers.

Just as the conversation began to become interesting, the bedroom door opened abruptly giving way to an angry Killian. "We're leaving, Swan." He simply snapped without even looking her in the eye as he headed toward his travel bag and began to throw things inside in a careless way.

When Emma glanced sideways at Elsa, she met her new friend wearing a panic expression, which led her to act. Rising from the bed, she walked with determined steps toward Killian and grabbed his arm gently, forcing him to stop with his task.

"No."

"What?" He addressed her with the confusion marked on his face, his eyes flickering quickly between hers.

"We're not leaving. Not yet anyway. I need my daily dose of caffeine to function properly, so Elsa and I are going to look for breakfast somewhere out of here." Emma looked for Elsa's approval who nodded vigorously. "And in the meantime, you're going down again and you're gonna fix things with your brother. We're not leaving for Storybrooke until you two have solved whatever it is that makes you behave like two obstinate teenagers."

"Are you kidding right now?" His voice trailed off when Emma gave him a silent warning through her gaze. Killian simply pursed his lips and kept silent. After glancing at his sister-in-law he let out a heavy sigh and dropped his arms in defeat. "Fine, but I want an extra-large coffee. Something tells me I'm going to need the additional caffeine." 

A strange sensation had taken hold of her since she had woken up, making her act in a more determined way than usual in her, more confident, and above all a little bold. Only in that way would she explain what she did next before he left the room again.

"Killian, wait." Without thinking twice, she pulled him toward her and pressed her lips against his. The simple contact caused her knees to weaken and the butterflies in her stomach to flutter furiously, as a wave of memories washed over her.

After that brief initial moment, though, she realized that he wasn't responding at all to the unexpected kiss, so the flutter in her stomach was replaced by a sense of disappointment. Luckily, that feeling lasted just a split second. After that brief pause of shock, he kissed her back, hard, as he wrapped her with his arms. Such was the spiral of emotions dancing inside her that she almost got carried away but a glimmer of lucidity appeared in her mind, making her realize where they were. Showing off unusual willpower, she pulled away from him just a few inches, their foreheads pressed together as she whispered against his lips, "easy tiger, we got company."

Killian didn't seem to care, though, because he captured her lips once more before finally pulling away. This time it was he who murmured, his warm breath caressing her lips and causing her head to spin.

"See you later, love." He then turned around and disappeared through the door, leaving behind a stunned Emma, unable to decide if the kiss had simply been part of their performance or if it had been something real. She obviously knew the answer as to herself, there was no point in denying it when her lips still tingled craving for more. But she wasn't sure she wanted to know what Killian had really felt. Certainly, his expression also seemed somewhat astonished, although she couldn't say whether if it was in a good or bad way.

At least the delighted expression that appeared on Elsa's face seemed to indicate that she had totally bought their stellar performance. That was a good sign, wasn't it?

//

Half an hour later Emma and Elsa were back home carrying several cups of coffee to go and a box of delicious pastries. That short space of time had served to reinforce Emma's previous impression towards Elsa, so much that she wouldn't have minded spending more time with her, but honestly, both were afraid of how the stubborn Jones brothers would have faced their time alone. Luckily the kids had stayed in their care so Elsa hoped they would have been able to behave civilly.

When they entered the living room they were pleasantly surprised to find a fairly quiet picture. Killian was on the ground playing with his nephews while Liam took pictures of the scene, both sporting calm but guarded expressions.

The moment Killian's eyes fell on her, he hurried to get up and walk towards her, wrapping her in a tight embrace before kissing her again. This time it was a gentle kiss, but with the ability to take her breath away. Only when they heard Liam clearing his throat did they separate. 

Once recovered from the incredible sensation of his lips on hers, Emma dared to look sideways at Liam, who wore a more relaxed expression, no sign of animosity towards her, to her relief. Emma could even detect the hint of a smile. Good.

They moved to the kitchen where they enjoyed a peaceful breakfast, everyone having a lively conversation sprinkled by the sporadic remarks of the two little boys who kept hovering around giving signs of overflowing energy. Once they finished, Elsa hurried to take the children out of the kitchen, leaving Emma alone with the two brothers. 

That was when Liam finally dared to address her.

"I'd like to apologize for my poor behavior yesterday, lass. It was totally out of place, and for that I'm sorry." Both his voice and his expression seemed genuine, so Emma couldn't do anything but shrug her shoulders before responding tentatively.

"It's okay."

In other circumstances, if all this had been real, that little attempt at apology wouldn't have been enough for Emma. In fact, she would probably have crossed him out of her life maybe forever. But she reminded herself once again that she was simply a part of a farce, so it made no sense to hold a grudge towards a person she probably wouldn't have to deal with anymore.

She was wrong.

"As a way to make amends we've decided to invite you guys to come over for Christmas, if that's fine with you, of course." Emma's eyes widened in surprise, and then she turned her gaze subtly to Killian, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

So the farce was going to last a little longer after all. It's okay, I like a challenge, she convinced herself mentally before responding.

"If Killian is fine with it, I'll be fine as well." She offered, which seemed to be enough since Liam finally — finally — smiled at her.

"Good."

//

They stayed at the Jones' house for another hour, which they spent in peace, although it was evident that the tension hadn't completely abandoned them, so Emma felt relieved when they finally left the house and got into Killian's car.

They traveled in silence during the first minutes, until Emma could no longer resist it.

"I should be so mad at you, Jones. You knew perfectly well that something like that could happen and you still decided to bring me." She reproached him in a tone perhaps harsher than she intended.

"I'm sorry lass, I really thought he wouldn't dare. But in my defense, I did warn you." He was right. The apologetic smile that appeared on his lips and the way his eyes glowed were too distracting. Her anger melted away under his charms without her being able to do anything to stop it. Bastard.

"So Christmas, huh? Have you thought of any new plans to continue bothering your brother? Something like adding some other sound, human perhaps, to make our performance more credible?" She wasn't flirting, right? She was totally doing it. Dammit!

For all answer, Killian burst out laughing. It was a deep and somewhat contagious laugh because a few seconds later she was accompanying him, letting the laughter act in a liberating way, dragging away any trace of the previous tension. 

Once the laughs subsided, he glanced at her with a mischievous expression on his face. "Sorry to tell you, Swan, but apparently our performance was a bit scandalous. They haven't invited us to spend the night."

"Seriously?" She asked pretending to feel upset while her lips drew an exaggerated pout, earning a new laugh from Killian.

"But they have invited us to spend New Year's Day." He hurried to reply between chuckles.

"We have the New Year's Eve party at the Rabbit Hole though." Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion while looking at him.

"Aye, that's why they invited us the following day."

"So we're going to continue with the fake dating."

Killian's eyes bored into hers for an instant before his gaze turned back to the road. "You don't have to do anything, love, but we make quite the team, so I'm in if you're still in."

Emma ignored the butterflies fluttering in her belly and focused on something safe, their farce. "You know this is going to cost you much more than a switch of shifts, buddy. But, in a way, I will have my reward when we show up at your brother's house with a hangover and feeling miserable on New Year's Day."

"And even if we aren't allowed to spend the night there, we always have the possibility of making out on the couch, or in the kitchen..."

"Keep dreaming, buddy."

"Always." 

The way Killian winked at her had no effect on her. None at all. The burning sensation that spread through her body was nothing more than the result of the heat inside the vehicle. That was the only reason.

This time, Killian wouldn't be the only one who would dream about it. Both her first experience of unforgettable sex with him ant the two previous kisses had left her wanting more. Sadly, she had no choice but to settle for improving the art of fake dating. At least for the moment. 

One thing was certain, though. She was no longer sure why she couldn't stand Killian in the first place. In fact, she might have started to like him a little. Just a little tiny bit.

//

Thanks for reading :)

[7-wonders]

As Above, So Below Ch. 18

Summary: Your average, mundane life as a college student is flipped upside down when the man you thought you knew as your next-door neighbor turns out to be the God of the dead. When Michael lures you down to Hell, everything that you thought you knew about the world is proven wrong.

Word Count: 3976

A/N: You know the drill! If you enjoyed this, I would love if you left a comment or an ask. Feedback is always appreciated, like and reblog if you liked reading this. Thanks so much for supporting my little passion project!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7| Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18: And the Birds Sing

The fire in Michael’s room is already roaring by the time he returns with you tucked safely in his arms, a sure sign that everyone in the Underworld knows about what had happened on that frozen lake of the damned. He gently sets you on the chest at the foot of his bed, darting back and forth as he attempts to find the needed supplies. Shivers wrack through you, your body already missing the heat that Michael provides you. A pile of blankets sits waiting on top of the bed, and Michael finally returns from his office with a knife.

“Gonna put me out of my misery?” You struggle to say the joke, teeth chattering hard enough to make you mildly concerned that one will crack. Michael smiles thinly, a sign that he’s trying not to make his anxiety visible.

“No, but I do need to get you out of your wet clothes, and there’s too many layers to worry about taking them off one at a time.” You nod, dipping your head slightly to allow Michael to remove your crown from your wet strands of hair.

“Why is it that I always seem to get into trouble when I’m wearing a beautiful dress?” You ponder, lamenting the loss of the masterpiece of a dress that Michael is carefully slicing off of your body. 

“I’d much rather we lose the dress than lose you,” Michel mutters, tongue poking out in concentration as he works the blade through your corset. “Stand up, please.”

It takes a little effort, your legs wobbling and Michael having to support you while he also removes your now-ruined dress from your body. You’re left standing in just your undergarments, Michael holding your hands so that you can step out of them. Despite the freezing cold that has replaced the blood running through your veins, you still feel your cheeks heating up at being naked in front of Michael. It’s not like he’s never seen you naked before, but it’s still something that’s very intimate to you. Michael, however, shows no sign of being phased by your lack of clothes. He barely even glances at your body, instead walking you over to sit on the bed and starting to wrap you up in blankets. He’s dedicated in completing the task, using each and every blanket until only your face is poking through the nest that now surrounds you. 

“Why can’t I just take a bath or something? I’m still wet,” you point out, nose wrinkling as your hair starts to leak through onto the blankets.

“If I warm you up too fast, it could be dangerous to your health.”

“And here I thought you wouldn’t know much about mortal ailments.”

“When you’ve lived for as long as I have, you tend to pick up a few things.” You raise an eyebrow when Michael starts to strip, ending up in the same state as you.

“Um, can I ask why you’re also taking your clothes off?” You’re determined to keep your eyes on his face and not on his sculpted body.

“Body heat is also a good way to warm someone up when they’re getting hypothermic.”

Michael slides under the covers next to you, pulling your blanket-wrapped self up against him. Even under the mountain of blankets, his warmth still radiates through to you. He hums quietly, your head feeling like it’s being rifled through in what you assume is Michael absentmindedly listening to your thoughts. You want to scold him, but you know that he likely doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. It’s a bad habit, he’s explained to you before, and he always feels really bad whenever he finally catches on that the thoughts are not his.

“I always thought you would be really cold,” you say quietly, eyes fluttering as you stare at the fire. “Imagine my surprise when I learned you’re actually a space heater.”

“Why did you assume that I would be cold?”

“The whole ‘God of the Dead’ thing. Dead people are pretty cold, so I thought you’d be the same way,” you speak through a yawn, the silence of the room and Michael’s steady breathing starting to lull you to sleep.

“Isn’t there a saying? ‘The warmer you are, the closer to Hell you are,’ or something like that?” You’re not looking at him, but you can still see the cheeky smirk he must have on his face.

“It’s about being short, not being warm.” Michael revels in your response, gently shaking you when he can sense that you’re about to fall asleep. “What the hell, Michael?”

He ignores the opportunity to make a joke. “I don’t want you to sleep until I know that your temperature is back where it’s supposed to be.”

“Damn you and your common sense.”

Without your knowledge, Michael summons a member of the staff. Cassius, the demon who had agreed to sacrifice his very existence for the sake of defeating Satan, appears. Cassius looks at Michael, as if to make sure it’s okay for him to use his powers. When Michael nods, the demon takes a very cautious glance at Michael’s thoughts to determine what he needs without either of them alerting you of his presence. The smaller man with horns and fangs disappears before returning with a small tray of what Michael had requested. Michael nods, both to thank and dismiss his loyal subject; black eyes dart to you before he transmutes out of the room. 

“Are you feeling up to drinking some tea, darling mine? I would think its warmth would help to warm you up.”

“How did…” you turn your head, looking over at the tray that just seems to have magically appeared in the room. “You and your damn demon posse.”

“Here, drink.” Michael brings the steaming cup to your lips, waiting patiently until you begrudgingly start to drink it.

“You know, I can hold it myself.”

“(Y/N),” Michael says in exasperation, “I almost lost you today, for the second time. Please, just this once, let me take care of you.” 

His words have you stunned into silence, and you finally nod in agreement. “Okay,” you say quietly, at a loss for words at how much this has affected him.

“I apologize for snapping at you, but you must understand how I felt when I saw the ice starting to break under your feet. Watching you fall into the lake, and being rendered helpless to rescue you, was the epitome of my worst nightmare. I have never felt fear quite like I did when I was attempting to spot you through the ice. I thought that--that you would be swept away, and lost forever. I had just gotten you back, and then it seemed like I was going to lose you all over again.”

“You were the only thing I could think of when I realized that I wouldn’t be able to find the surface,” you admit. “Out of all of the possible thoughts that could be my last, I was worried about how you were going to fare when I died.”

“I would have been a complete and utter mess.” When Michael’s satisfied with the amount of tea that you’ve drank, he sets the cup down and picks up a thermometer. “How does this thing work?”

You take it from him, swiftly uncapping it and positioning it under your tongue. The cool metal fills you with nostalgia, reminding you of trips to the nurse’s office throughout your years in school. Whether you were sick or not, that thermometer would always be a guarantee for any need, even one as simple as obtaining a painkiller. Michael’s silent while you wait for the device to beep, and you idly play with the rings that still decorate his long fingers. A shrill beep pierces the air, and Michael stares at the thermometer like it’s a foreign object.

“What’s a normal body temperature for a human?” Stifling a giggle, you read the numbers on the LED screen before putting it back on the tray it appeared on. 

“Ninety eight point six-ish?”

“So is it bad that yours is ninety three?”

“Not good, but not bad. It means I’m recovering. Considering you had to revive me, it could be a lot worse.” Michael groans, pulling you closer into his arms as if to remind himself that his resuscitation efforts actually worked.

“Please don’t remind me about that.” The cheeky smile on your face falls when you hear his strangled voice. Turning your head in his grasp, you see that his eyes are shut tightly while he attempts to prevent any tears from escaping.

“Hey,” your voice grows soft as you disentangle one of your hands from the nest of blankets, using it to stroke Michael’s cheek, “stop thinking about it. I’m right here, in front of you. I’m warm...er than I was, and I’m alive and recovering and safe in your arms.”

“But you weren’t...I saw you dead…” he mutters, lost in the events that preceded your current situation.

“Michael,” you wait for him to look at you before speaking. “Look at me. What happened was not your fault.”

“It was all my fault, (Y/N). I’m the reason there’s a prophecy in the first place, and the reason why you’re stuck here. You almost died--no, you did die, all because I put you in the middle of my battle with my father.”

“Stop talking like that, or else I’ll get Madison to hold me,” you threaten sternly. “Every action has been my choice. I chose to complete the Seven Wonders and come back here, I chose to tell you that I love you, I chose to be a part of the plan that I came up with. Do not, for a single second, blame yourself for anything. I am an adult who is capable of making my own choices, which I did.”

Michael listens silently, mulling over your words as he kisses the top of your head. “I’ve never been more proud of anyone than I was of you today.”

“Lying to make me feel better.”

“No!” Michael insists, moving the blanket away from your face so he can actually see your facial features. “Not only did you handle the burden of a coronation, however fake it may have been, with dignity and grace, but you also managed to be a total...what’s the word?” He trails off, brows furrowing as he attempts to figure out what he wants to say.

“Badass?” You fill in with the only word that pops to mind. 

“Yes! I don’t really know what it means, but you say it a lot and it seems to describe how you were when distracting my father.” His cheeks color a tantalizing shade of red, and you can’t help the urge to lean over and plant featherlight kisses on them. 

“While I appreciate that, Michael, I highly doubt it was anything too extraordinary.”

“You undervalue yourself far too often, my love. If I ever get lucky enough for you to accept my offer, you will most certainly be the best queen the Underworld could ever have. You’re kind, and brilliant, and selfless in ways that I could never be.”

Michael, sensing your hesitation at how best to respond, places the back of his hand on your forehead.

“You seem to be warming up. Are you still feeling up for a bath?”

“A bath sounds nice.” Michael stands, and you can’t help but to admire the firmness of his ass before your eyes fly up to his face in embarrassment. 

“I’ll be only a moment,” he promises. When the bathroom door closes behind him, the wistful smile on your face remains just as prevalent.

/////////////////////////////

“You’re doing much better than you were, I presume?” The garden (your garden, you suppose) that you’re sitting in is bathed in warm sunlight, courtesy of Michael giving in to your pleas to have just a couple hours of sunlight at the castle every once in a while. You tap your foot against the ground nervously, being gentle not to nudge a sleeping Cerberus and smiling politely as you sit across a small table from the Queen of the Gods herself. Violet’s dressed in what you believe is her version of casual; a beige dress that falls to her knees, accompanied by a large red cardigan. 

When you woke in the morning after falling asleep in Michael’s arms, hair still wet from the warm bath, an ornately sealed letter sat on the dresser. Olympus, Michael read out loud, had learned of what had happened on Cocytus. An emergency council was to be held between the trio of main gods, with the meeting taking place in the Underworld in order to give Zeus and Poseidon the opportunity to inspect the locale where Satan was now entombed. To everyone’s surprise, Michael’s beloved sister made the trip as well, with the specific request of speaking to you privately. Needless to say, nervous would be an understatement as to how you’re feeling.

“I am, thank you. It was...frightening, to wake up on the ice and not have any clue what was happening, but I knew I was in good hands.”

“Knowing Michael, he would have personally found a way to reverse time if he hadn’t been able to bring you back to life,” Violet sips delicately at her tea. “What is it like?”

“What is what like?” You question, cocking your head slightly.

“To die, not only once, but twice?”

“Four times, technically.”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, when my body was shutting down because of the ‘nothing living can survive in the Underworld’ prophecy, my heart stopped twice once I was admitted to a hospital Above.”

Violet stares at you for a long moment, a slow smile spreading across her face. “A true warrior, then. So tell me, (Y/N), how does one feel after dying and being brought back to life multiple times?”

“I’m not the same person that I was when I was first brought here, that’s for sure,” a dry chuckle accompanies your statement as you shake your head, staring down at the milky surface of your beverage. “I don’t think that you get to die and come back the exact same as you were. You come back...wrong, in a way. Like there’s a part of you missing, or a part of you that’s changed. Maybe your soul splits into a thousand little pieces when you die, and a few of those pieces don’t get the memo that they’re supposed to return to your body. We are all, after all, made up of stardust. Our souls must, in theory, return to the stars when we die, and the most rebellious parts of it refuse to come back down on the occasion that a person is brought back to life.”

“So you believe all creatures are celestial beings?”

“With all due respect, I don’t mean to get into a theological debate.”

“No, please, I’m intrigued. I would appreciate it if you continued.” She waves her small hand in the air, signalling you to continue.

“It’s a fact that, no matter what created the universe, parts of the universe are embedded in each and every one of us. Iron, one of the most abundant metals, can only be created in the depths of a dying star. We’re not celestial beings, in that we’re not heavenly bodies or something that’s not of the world that we, as mortals, know. However, we’re celestial beings because we’re literally composed of bits of the very fabric of the universe itself.”

For all of the talking that Michael does, Violet is the opposite. Whereas Michael would have interjected to provide his own viewpoint on whatever matter he agrees or disagrees with, Violet waits until you’ve reached the conclusion of your statement before forming her own response. The differences between them are stark, but the more time you spend with Violet, the more you notice mannerisms and characteristics that remind you of the man that is now your lover. When he smiles his genuine smile, he looks just like his sister. Their eyes both contain that same twinkle of mischief, and they share the same biting wit.

“You are quite the introspective soul, (Y/N). I pity what we may have lost had death decided to fully claim you.”

“Thank you, my Lady.”

“Please, after yesterday’s events, I believe we are far past the stage of formalities.” Your eyes widen as you understand the hidden meaning in her words. 

“It wasn’t a real coronation, it was just a ruse to lure Satan to us,” you explain hurriedly. 

“I’m aware. Very clever, might I add. But,” her kind eyes pierce through you, to the depths of your soul, “I know there was an ulterior motive to you undertaking the tests of the Seven Wonders.”

“I wasn’t about to let the end of the world be solely my fault.”

“Admirable, of course. However, you seem to be under the impression that my dear brother does not choose to share anything that he deems to be important with me.” Your expression sours with the realization that Michael writes to his sister about his (and presumably your) love life. “You have both professed your love for each other, then?”

“I mean, yeah, but it’s a lot more complicated than that.”

“How so?”

“For starters, the fact that completing the Seven Wonders only buys me some time. I’m still very human, and I’m going to have to leave here before my body starts trying to kill me for being in the Underworld again.”

“How are you to be queen, then?”

“I’m not--I’m not sure if I’m ready to be queen, or even if I want to be queen.” You absentmindedly pet one of Cerberus’s heads, a foolproof way to help calm your rising nerves. 

“What is holding you back?” You’re reminded how much of a child you truly are in the eyes of this millenia-old goddess as you avoid making eye contact and give Violet a half-hearted shrug. 

“I don’t want to leave Above for the rest of time. I like being human, no matter how much I complain about it.”

“You enjoy the sorrows of a mortal life? War, famine, poverty, tragedy, sickness, and all of the other terrible occurrences that would be avoided were you to become Michael’s queen?”

“Are there not versions of suffering that the gods experience as well? I’ve learned quite a bit about all of the different wars that have been fought, either directly or indirectly by Olympians. There may not be poverty in the traditional sense, but you can be lacking in a lot of different areas. Surely, you must also feel terrible when tragedies hit mankind? I mean, Michael literally kidnapped me so that he could stop the apocalypse.

“Yes, there are bad parts to humanity, but there’s bad parts of every species. I like getting to see the comradery that happens in times of turmoil, and the activism that my generation is using to make legitimate changes in society. It’s the little things, as well, that make being human worth it. Long car drives with no set destination in mind and the music blasting, street festivals, eating ice cream on a hot summer night, watching the leaves change, the holiday season. Getting excited over a new movie coming out, re-reading a favorite book, the families that we create, hobbies that get us through a long week. To you, these may seem dumb and miniscule. To me, however, it’s what makes life worth living. I don’t want to lose that.”

Violet sits in silence, wrapped up in her mind as she thinks over what you’ve just said. You tap your fingers against the edge of the table, looking anywhere and everywhere in an attempt to not lose your mind at the thought of possibly upsetting a goddess. Maybe your little speech was too impassioned? It’s not that she offended you, but her seeming aversion to the human race was enough to send you rushing to defend your fellow humans. 

“You and Michael are the definition of a juxtaposition,” she finally speaks, allowing you to let out a breath that you weren’t aware you were holding.

“Um, I don’t really see what that has to do with my defense of humanity?”

“Where Michael is dark, you are light. You smooth out his rough edges, while making him whole again at the same time. He’s rooted in reality and cynical, but you allow him to see the more fantastical, rose-tinted side of things. Yin and yang, I believe it is called?” You nod silently, letting her know she’s got it right.

“It’s nice to know that we complement each other so well, but that still doesn’t solve my dilemma.”

Violet’s pale hand is suddenly on top of yours, making you freeze in your spot. Smiling kindly in an effort to soothe the sudden rush of panic seizing your body, she stands from the table and pulls you up with her. Cerberus’s heads perk up, but he quickly dozes back off when he realizes there’s no danger. She clasps her hands in yours and, although she’s smaller than you, you feel shorter than her in this moment. 

“Talk to him. Let him know that you want to be his queen, but without sacrificing your humanity in the process. Trust me, if he loves you half as much as he claims in his letters, he will find a way to make you happy. Communication is the key to a healthy relationship; that is something that I wish Tate and I knew much earlier in our time together.”

As is your signature move when faced with a rush of emotion that you don’t know how to translate into words, you wrap Violet in a hug. She seems much more familiar with the expression than Michael, returning your gesture happily. 

“Thank you,” you mutter against her shoulder.

“Of course. If I am to have a ‘sister-in-law,’ as you mortals call it,” she teases, “I could not hope for a better one than you.”

“Violet!” Tate’s voice booms through the garden, alerting you both that the rendezvous is now over. “Violet, we need to be leaving soon.”

“It appears as though that is my cue,” she laments. “Do you promise that you will talk to him?”

“I will,” you nod.

“Good. Send me a letter and let me know how it goes; Hermes makes the trip from Olympus to the Underworld, and back again, daily. Give it to him and he shall know what to do with it.” 

Violet kisses both of your cheeks before turning to walk through the garden and find her husband. Once they’ve both disappeared into the palace, you set off on a renewed quest to find Michael. He’s not in the throne room, nor is he in his office, which only leaves one other place that you know he frequents: the library. The library in which, arguably, you allowed your walls to come down and let Michael wedge his way into your heart. 

He’s sitting on the bottom of one of the winding staircases that lead to ancient Greek texts, pensieve as he thinks about the meeting that has just transpired with the gods that are his equals. When you call his name, he tilts his head up, standing to greet you. His hands are clasped behind his back, and a smile lights up his face. It’s ironic, you note, how much the God of the Dead smiles when in your presence. 

“What is it, (Y/N)? Did something happen?” Michael asks. You shake your head, taking his hands in yours in a gesture reminiscent of Violet’s, mere minutes ago.

“No. Michael, I’ve made up my mind.”

“About?”

“I want to rule beside you. I want to be your queen.”

///////////////////

Tag List: @brieababy @ladyrindt @nana15774 @queencocoakimmie @sammythankyou @girlycakepops @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @lichellaw @sebastianshoe @pastel-cloudz @ultragibbycentralworld @grim-adventures58 @dandycandy75 @dolceandchalamet @everything-is-awesomesauce @langdonslove @ccodyfern @consultingsnowqueen @readsalot73 @jimmlangdon @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @hplotrfan @omg-hellgirl @gallxntdean @storminmytwistedmind @venusxxlangdon @langdonsdemon @kahhlo @americanhorrorstudies @antichristwrites @xxxmaterialistc @forgetting5sos @divinelangdon @sadsadiesworld @born-on-stgeorges-day @hecohansen31 @michaelsapostle @izuniias @grippleback-galaxy

[vegetacide]

Coffee - Insomnia (TaG)

Veg-notables: Andddddd another one. This one is courtesy of Nutty cause she tossed a few lines at me.. So I ran with it. Anything below with a ** bracketing it was provided by her marvelous brain.

Likes and shares are awesome so thanks in advance. Reviews are my inspirational fuel so please feel free to drop a line.. I don’t bite ^,.,^

As per the norm.. All typos and mistakes are purely my own.

Special thanks to @gumnut-logic for the inspiration and the encouragement.

Part of the Coffee series.

Characters: Virgil, Kayo

Timeline: Post S.O.S part 2

Spoilers - VAYOR (cause these 2 give me life!)

ENJOY!!

**Kay walks up behind him with a steaming coffee in her hand**

Catching a whiff of the wonderful aroma - ‘cause the man was a bloodhound for coffee, Virgil pulled his head out of the aft VTOL access panel. The large cargo transport was nestled down close to the ground,  her massive weight settled on her aviation rubbers. Not her usual pre-flight position but this way made gaining access to her innards and all his tools a hell of a lot easier and only slightly hampered her module load up sequence

**“You’re up early.” She sipped her coffee knowing what his reaction would likely be. “Anything wrong?”**

Snagging a spanner out of the rolling tool chest, Virgil shrugged a shoulder. “Couldn’t sleep” and turned back to what he was working on, swiping the back of his forearm over his brow.  Kayo knew from experience how stifling the small, cramped confines could be even in the cooler environs of the hanger. The bead of sweat working its way down the curve of his spine paid testament to that fact

Even with the protective material of his coveralls pulled from his heavy shoulders, the arms tied loosely around his waist, it did little to alleviate the discomfort.  Though she had to admit she did enjoy the view because at some point he’d also ditched his shirt.

She briefly lost her train of thought as the over head lighting played across the hard expanse of muscles running up his back. The sinew corded and rippled with movement while he quietly argued with whatever he was working on with such intensity.  

**A slight frown, why wasn’t he sleeping? But that was quickly replaced by a fond smile as he smeared grease across his forehead. She reached out and brushed a hair off the smear. “Anything you want to talk about?”**

She watched his profile as his lips turned up slightly with the gesture, his head tilting subconsciously to follow the path of her fingers.  Straightening from his task he caught her palm in his and gave it a brief squeeze. “Couldn’t shut my brain off.” The spanner was tossed haphazardly into the maw of the access hatch and it hit with a dull thump. His frustration at his work was evident in the careless action.

Pulling a rag from his pocket he wiped his hands, leaning back against the great big green beast of a craft.  "You might find this surprising but occasionally I actually get up at a ‘reasonable’ hour.“ He air quoted, the flex of his biceps causing the muscles to bunch and thicken.

Kayo resisted the urge to snort,  his idea of reasonable and everyone else were two vastly different concepts. “If I didn’t know you so well I would actually buy that.”  She looked around at the array of tools and the scattering of miscellaneous parts that littered the usually tidy space. “You’ve been at this for hours.”

Virgil’s eyes lost their focus, seeming to stare off into the middle distance.  His hands fiddling with the oil stained rag, playing with the tattered fabric as he was drawn inwards in introspection.  

Kayo looked down and watched as the unsweetened brew swirled and trembled in the mug with her minute movements. The distorted reflection of Two wavering and looking back up at her from the cooling beverage like some omnipresent ghost.  "I’m a light sleeper. You never came to bed last night.” She peered up at him through the loose fall of her hair and watched the series of emotions play across his tired face. The muscles in his jaw flexing as he clenched and unclenched, deep in thought and searching for the appropriate response to her statement. The length of time needed to come up with a viable answer speaking volumes of his level of exhaustion.

Drawing closer, she offered him the still warm mug.  He needed it. She’d intended to use it to entice another response out of him, a playful one of teasing but this situation hadn’t been what she’d thought it was and it was obvious another approach was needed.  

Initially when she’d awoken alone with the sun creeping across the cold sheets on his side of the bed, she’d thought that he had just gotten caught up in his work again.  Engineering was more than just a mere job to him. It was a passion that allowed him to use his exquisitely talented mind and his creative soul for projects that aided in their every day work as emergency first responders.  

She’d lost track of the amount of times she had found him asleep in random places in and around the villa. So with that thought in mind, she’d headed to the crowded kitchen, ruffling a few heads in passing, grabbed the biggest mug she could find - really the thing was a bucket in disguise, and gone in search for the dark haired Tracy.  

What she’d found was definitely far from what she had expected.  He was withdrawn and quiet. The usual child like gusto that simmered beneath the surface of his calm exterior when he was tinkering away was absent. This was concerning and alarm bells started ringing loudly in her internal landscape. Klaxons of piercing noise that she couldn’t ignore.

She nudged the cup at him again and he absently took it from her outstretched hand, staring into it without really seeing it as the aromatic steam drifted lazily between them.  

A shoulder raised again in a shrug and he  dropped the tattered remnants of the rag over the lip of the hatch before tucking his arm around his bare torso. An action of self containment that she was well versed in reading in others but was shocked to see being used by the usually self-assured man in front of her. “Lot on my mind,  couldn’t put it to bed last night. So I came down here.”

“Like what?”  She queried. It was like pulling teeth with him sometimes but she knew that patience was her best weapon. He would speak only when and if he wanted to do so.  

He shook his head,  like he was trying to brush it off. “Everything.  Bramen, the Hood, Chaos Crew, Gordon…Dad..” He listed off, the last of which hung tensely in the silence. Cloying and heavy with so much more unsaid.

Kayo held her breath, not wanting to discourage him from speaking by jumping on the large, scary topic of the great Jeff Tracy. She’d danced around that subject for years with the Brothers and she knew what buttons could be pushed and which ones should be best left alone.  

Virgil was always there for his younger brothers when they needed an ear to listen and a gentle reassuring guidance but when it came to himself, he played things close to the chest. Not wanting to show any sort of weakness for fear of worrying the others.  

Well, she’d come against that wall enough times through why he was putting it up around her of all people was beyond her. He showed her so much of himself but for this one thing.  The barricade for which he secreted this part of himself from her, sturdy and unmoving no matter how many times she attempted to surpass it.

“Virgil,” She placed a reassuring hand on his solid forearm, the flesh unyielding as he tried to clamp down on his emotions.  His fist straining and clasped tight against the forced calm he was trying and failing to project. “Don’t hide from me.”  

His brows flinched at being caught out on that but she knew that she had to try to probe the well built wall to get him to open up to her. The need for him to share in his burden spurring her on.

His eyes finally met hers and the raw emotions in them had her catching her breath.  “What is it?”  

Pushing away from his ‘bird, he put the mug down on a workbench, stalked a few steps away and stopped.  Hands on hips, his gaze down cast towards the hard floor “I gave up.”

“Gave up?” Kayo let the confusion show in her voice. “I don’t understand.”

“On ever finding Dad.” The confession brought rough hands through his hair and he turned back to her with a sudden flash of anger,  frustration that she knew was directed solely at himself “I’ve been lying to everyone. Being supportive. Keeping up an act for everyone, Alan..Gordon.. Scott, but I’ve been lying for a long time.”

Kayo followed him as realization dawned on her. Putting herself in front of him, a nonverbal shout of support for the man that she had years ago unwittingly fallen head over heels for. “And now Braman..” She supplied.  

The retrieval of Braman had changed everything for all of them.  Jeff Tracy was alive, somewhere in the vastness of space and now they were planning a rescue.  Albeit it was crazy, considering the distance and the resources both physically and mentally need for such a task but they were going to attempt a rescue nonetheless.  

Virgil gave a weak nod, his shoulders slumping. “I gave up. Resigned myself to the fact that he was dead, let myself grieve and started to pack it away…  All this time…I shouldn’t have..Dad wouldn’t have given up on me if the roles were reversed. He would have moved heaven and earth for us.. Why couldn’t I for him?  He’d be ashamed..”

“Virgil,  you can’t blame yourself for this. It was a logical conclusion that all the information we had supported..”

“A Tracy never gives up…” Was his only response.  It was the unofficial family motto.

Kayo’s heart ached behind her sternum.  He’d never whispered a word about any of this to her.  He’d been carrying this guilt around for nearly two weeks since the hidden message had been found and she’d had no clue. With just three little letter hidden amongst a sea of codes, they’d all been consumed with new found well spring of hope and an insane plan of action had been decided on.  

The time since spent amidst a mad smash up of planning and research and material gathering. Schematics and supply lists. And of course there was Gordon, recovery,  repairs to Four.. in all that time she’d never had the faintest clue that the fervid hope that had overtaken the island hadn’t in fact been felt by all.

Cupping his cheeks, her ran her thumbs across the dark smudges of guilt that hung doggedly below his eyes and turned his face up to hers.  Her lips brushing at his smeared forehead. “Virgil, you are a good man. No matter what. This, ” She stated pointing around at their surroundings, “Is all proof of that and more.  Even not knowing what had become of your father all those years ago, you still kept going. No matter the cost or the sacrifice and that makes you a good man. Your father would be proud at what you have accomplished, how many lives you’ve saved with all that you and your brothers have lost.  Never doubt that.”

She paused, leaning her forehead against his. “But, you are still human.”  Fallible, ambivalent. Mortal. Traits that they all carried within them, “Don’t let this tear you down.”  She hoped that it wouldn’t, prayed fervently that he could and would push past it. Find the strength she knew he had and use this to fuel him to be even better than what he was. Now though, was not the time to lecture him.

She stood silent before him, her head to his own and looked across the short distance. A distance tiny in actuality but which felt vaster than she had ever felt before. This man,  this loving, caring savior of others carried with him a great many weights and all she wanted, wished with everything within her was to help hold him up and ease his burdens like he did for all of them.

Regarding him with his eye held closed, he brow low she knew that  her words would stir within him, churn the swirling self doubt and contempt he hid away from everyone. His body quivering slightly as he breathed in haltingly,  trying desperately to once again find the safe harbour within himself.  

She knew once the storm had calmed and the torrent of emotions had stilled,  he would examine what she said and compare them against his own self image. Assess and reconstruct and disassemble so that he could try and bring himself back up to an even keel.  It would take time and patience and her love to guide him through it but she would be there for him for as long as he needed her.

With another shaky breath, lips grazing hers own, his words fanned her hope and the sun strained to break through the clouds. “I love you.”

Softly smiling she took his stained hand, she gave a gentle tug. With her coaxing she knew that sleep for him would finally come and she lead him away from the unfinished work, the disarray of tools and parts,  the mess of everything that he’d pulled out and scattered about.  

With a sympathetic look and a love that emboldened, she pulled him forwards. Towards the heart of the home where she hoped sleep would find him.

The mug of coffee left forgotten and chilled on the scuffed surface as their footfalls echoed across the great, hollow expanse that was his Father’s dream.

The End.

[she-is-tim]

Neighbours AU part 6 Self control

Lucas is a young, exhausted musician who just tries to relax, while Eliott is the overexcited, dubstep loving artist who lives next door.

Aka Lucas confronts his annoying neighbour who turns out to be gorgeous

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 

Saturday 17:46

Eliott was resting on the couch, smoking cigarette, not weed this time, since just accross him were sitting Lucille in the armchair. She came to check on him since he didn’t texted her after the party at all. Eliott was feeling better than ever in his life, he was dating with Lucas since a few days only, but it was just so perfect. They spent Thrusday night and Friday morning together, but then his sweet pianist had to work, so they separated. 

Now Lucas was at a concert, he was preparing for it all morning, playing soft melodies while Eliott sat on the couch in Lucas’ apartment, doodling in his sketchbook. It was such a perfect moment, Eliott wanted to stay like that forever. 

Now he was in his own apartment, far away from his lovely partner. Of course Lucas invited him, but he told him that he has a new project coming up, so he needs to work on that today to have more free time on sunday. It was a lie, obviously. He couldn’t go to crowded places like cinema, theatres, concerts, other events. It made his anxiety worse.

“What’s up with you? You look like a kid that lost his favorite toy.” Lucille said, slowly taking a sip of her beer. She looked pretty like always, wearing a white shirt with black flowers on it, tight, dark jeans, her hair was curly and shiny, her nails painted light pink. 

“Nothing.” Eliott mumbled, blowing out a big cloud of smoke. “I’m okay.”

“Eliott, I know you more than anyone. I can tell when something is bothering you.” she said seriously and put the bottle on the coffee table between them, crossing her legs and arms. Eliott sighed, putting his cigarette in the ashtray, sitting up. 

“I’m dating someone. Are you happy now?” he said annoyed, he hated how Lucille was acting around him, but he really needed this sometimes. A caring friend making sure that Eliott is not suffering alone. 

“Someone... Please tell me it’s not the guy from next door.” she said on a worrying tone, making a weird face when Eliott frowned. “For god’s sake, Eliott. Don’t you remember what happened last time you liked a guy?” her tone was a bit angry now, which made the boy angry too, he sat up, staring into his friend’s face.

“I am not your boyfriend, nor your child, Lucille.” he said seriously, his eyes were shooting sparks. “This is MY fucking life, If I wanna mess it up again, then so be it.” he said a bit louder than he wanted, but he had to make sure Lucille gets the message.

“Yeah, sure.” she said on an arrogant voice. “I’m pretty positive that he knows about your illness, your insecurities. I bet he knows well how to handle you on the bad days.” her words were like venom, crawling under Eliott’s skin, poisoning his blood. He didn’t say anything, just lit another cigarette, inhaling the hot smoke, then letting it out, closing his eyes in the process. 

“I’ll tell him, I just need time.” he said it after long minutes of silence. Lucille rolled her eyes, grabbing the beer again to drink. “What would you expect me to do?” he asked angrily. “Start the first meeting with ‘Hey, I’m Eliott, I am an illustrator, I like dubstep and oh, sometimes I have so bad anxiety attacks that I end up in hospital’?” his voice was harsh both because of his anger and the cigarette he was smoking. 

“Maybe that would be the best.” she mumbled.

“No, Lucille. I don’t want anyone to see me as a sick person and pity me for that shit! I want Lucas to like me because of me. To see the person behind the illness.” he explained, tears forming in his eyes now. He hated to be like this, having such bad anxiety, mixed with some panic attacks. He wanted to be normal, or at least just feel normal. He couldn’t have that with Lucille, that’s why they broke up, but maybe it can work with Lucas.

“I’m sorry.” Lucille said softly, putting down the empty beer bottle, grabbing Eliott’s hand softly. “I’m sure he will like you a lot. I mean you are annoying as hell, but if he stayed after hearing that terrible music you listen to every day, I’m sure nothing will scare him away.” she said softly, kissing Eliott’s cheek. The boy smiled softly, leaning his head on Lucille’s shoulder. He couldn’t wish for a better friend.

Sunday 10:34

Lucas had to crawl out of his warm bed, making sure he gets ready before his beautiful partner comes over. They were planning to have lunch together, Lucas insisted on cooking himself before Eliott could offer the same. He never ever wanted to eat anything that was made by him. He might have been a real angel, a talented artist, but he was a terrible cook.

He grabbed his phone to check on messages before going to the bathroom. He had to take a shower, brush his teeth, style his hair a little. He wanted to look perfect, since his date was basically a demigod. He only got a few messages, mostly from the boys, congratulating to the successful concert last night. They weren’t big fans of classical music, but they were there on every concert of Lucas if they could. 

From Yann: So, how are things going with you and Eliott? You gonna introduce him to us? It’s time to wake up, Lulu.

He laughed at the stupid messages from his best friend, but he had to check the other messages too, before answering. He got a message from a member of the orchestra, he ignored that, but he jumped a little when he saw the message from his mother. She rarely texted him, due to her mental state. She was taken care by a professional, but it always made Lucas feel guilty that he couldn’t take care of her on his own. She was really problematic, her delusions and breakdowns made Lucas’ teenage life harder than it should be. Now he just tried to live his life, forgetting the problem of his family.

From Mom: In my dreams I saw a creature with horns, taking you into the depths. Never follow the path of the darkness, light can’t wander off, or it will be lost forever.

Lucas sighed, he didn’t reply to that one, his mom often sent him nonsense messages like this, especially when he was younger and she didn’t get proper medications. He shook his head, focusing himself on reading the last message he got while sleeping. It was from Eliott, he sent it at 3:45. Lucas rolled his eyes, knowing that his partner were not much of a sleeper during night time. 

From Eliott: I’m looking forward to our date today.  Should I bring some alcohol? Maybe a joint?

Lucas couldn’t help but smile like an idiot, seeing Eliott’s silly and basically useless messages. They made no sense, but they showed to Lucas how much Eliott was excited and eager to meet up. It was less than 24 hours since they last met, but it felt like a lifetime to both of them.

To Eliott:  You could bring some champagne, no smoking today. I wanna enjoy this date without getting high

From Eliott:  You woke up? Good morning! 

Lucas chuckled and put down his phone now. Eliott was such a dork sometimes, but he loved that. He walked to the bathroom, taking a shower, brushing his teeth, fixing his hair. He was almost done, when he heard music, coming from the living room. He dressed up, walked there, but it was actually coming from the other side of the wall. Eliott was listening to Skrillex, at 10:50. Lucas laughed and walked to the kitchen, preparing to cook. He kinda liked this silly music now, it was fast, weird and chaotic, just like Eliott. 

He was making food to whatever music Eliott was listening to. It felt like the wall between their apartments was gone and they just stood there, in front of each other, dancing to the music like they are carefree teenagers again. Lucas had such a wide smirk on his face, it was hurting, but he couldn’t stop himself. This was the very first time he felt so free and happy, all thanks to this goofball next door. 

He finished cooking a little after 12:17. He tried to make a healthy, but tasy meal. Unlike Eliott, he was trying not to poison his crush. He put the steamed vegetables in a bowl, the roasted chicken on a plate, the well-cooked rice was already on the table, looking delicious. He put two plates and cutlery, making sure it looked perfect like in those cooking shows. He also put wine glasses next to the plates, fighting back the urge to look for a fancy candle. That would be too much and also would make no sense, since it’s the middle of the day. 

He looked at the table victoriously, enjoying the perfection of his hard work, before looking for his phone to text Eliott. He asked him before if he had any type of food allergies, so at least he didn’t had to worry about that part when cooking. 

To Eliott:  You can come in 5 minutes, door is open

Lucas smiled and put his phone on the kitchen counter, making sure it’s on mute. He didn’t wanted to be interrupted by his friends this time. He walked to his bedroom, changing his casual clothes to a bit more fancy ones. He put on tight, navy blue jeans and a white t-shirt. He was holding a black suit for a few minutes, thinking if he should put it on or not, but he rejected the idea. They were home, he didn’t had to look so fancy.

He was so distracted by dressing up that he was still fixing his stupid shirt when the front door opened. His heart was racing as he basically ran out of the bedroom to the living room, facing with the most beautiful person on this earth. His hair seemed to be shorter, maybe he cut it himself, but it still looked perfectly chaotic. He was wearing grey jeans like always, a blue t-shirt with a raccoon on it and an opened denim shirt on top, just to make himself look like a full 3 course meal. Lucas stopped breathing for a second when Eliott smiled at him. 

“You look beautiful.” he said with a soft smile. Lucas just noticed the champagne bottle in his hand as he raised it. “I got us some drink.” he said proudly. 

“Yeah, cool.” Lucas mumbled, licking his lips, still staring at Eliott. 

“You like what you see?” he asked with a triumphant smile. He obviously enjoyed how speechless Lucas was. The boy tried to collect his tought and imaginary slapped his face a few times for making himself look like a complete idiot in front of Eliott. 

“Anyways, let’s go to the kitchen.” he said, ignoring Eliott’s question and grabbed his arm gently, leading him to the kitchen where the food was waiting for them. 

Eliott smiled brightly when he saw all the deliciousness Lucas made just for them. It made him extremely happy that someone cared for him this much. He obviously had dinner dates before, but no one’s ever done anything like this for him. He smiled at Lucas and without hesitation, planted a soft kiss on his lips.

“You are incredible.” he whispered as he pulled back from the kiss.

“I wanted to impress you.” Lucas mumbled, his cheeks turning a bit red because of the flattering words. 

“Mission complete.” Eliott smirked. “I’m gonna open this.” he said, still holding into the champagne bottle, looking for a bottle opener in the drawers. 

Lucas couldn’t believe how confidently Eliott was moving around in his apartment, like he was living here too. He liked to see him look around, then happily opening the bottle with a loud popping sound. He smirked at Lucas, walking to the table to pour champagne in the glasses.

“You know, I should be the one serving you, not the other way around.” Lucas said with a soft smile, he didn’t mean to complain, he actually enjoyed Eliott’s enthusiasm.

“I can’t just sit around and watch you do everything. You worked so hard to make this amazing food for me. I gotta thank you somehow.” he said seriously, putting down the bottle in the middle of the table.

“I think that kiss was more than enough for me.” he said smiling, walking to Eliott and stroking his face. “I never had the chance to do this for anyone actually. I’m happy that you like it.”

Eliott looked into his eyes, all kinds of emotion running through his body at the same time. He cupped Lucas’ face gently, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs, taking in all the beauty this boy had. He wanted to enjoy this moments, every single moment he got to spend with Lucas before all goes to shit, because it happens every single time. It’s just the way it is. He wasn’t normal, he was ill, problematic, not worth the effort. But right now in this blessed moment he could be normal, he could be a man in love without being afraid of what happens the next moment. 

He leant down, pressing his lips on Lucas’, starting a gentle kiss, still holding his face in his hands. Lucas slowly wrapped his arms around Eliott’s waist, pulling him closer, opening his mouth to let that curious tongue inside. Then all went wild, in the next moment, Lucas was sitting on the kitchen counter, with opened legs, Eliott standing inbetween them, kissing him deeply, while his hands were in Lucas’ hair. He had no idea when his partner put him up there, but he couldn’t care less. His fingers slowly slipped under Eliott’s shirt, touching his abs. His skin was warm and soft, his hand wandered upper, stroking Eliott’s chest now. 

The taller boy had to break the kiss to take a breath before going in for another wild, wet kiss. Their tongue were dancing uncontrollably in their joint mouth. Eliott were holding onto Lucas’ waist now, slowly pulling up his shirt to reveal his beautiful body. He couldn’t get enough of it, the nerves on his fingertips were screaming for more. 

After long minutes of making out in the kitchen, Lucas pulled back, leaning his head on the cupboard behind him, wheezing like he just ran a marathon. His heart was threatening to burst out of his chest, his hair was a mess, his cheeks were bright red, just like his swollen lips. He looked at Eliott, who basically were the same, though, his hair was always that messy. He looked even more hot with those red, wet lips.

“Fuck...” Lucas mumbled, placing a hand on his chest, like it could calm his fast heartbeats. “I wasn’t expecting this to be honest.” he said which made Eliott to laugh. He loved to see him smile and laugh, he looked genuinely happy.

“Honestly, I was surprised we got to the kitchen. I was actually planning to do this on the couch.” he said smirking, playing with Lucas’ already messy hair, while he was drawing circles on Lucas’ stomach with the other hand.

“You really have no self controll, huh?”

“Around you? Not anymore.” he said smirking, placing a kiss on Lucas’ neck now. “I was holding myself back when you first came to my apartment. It was the hardest thing i’ve ever done in my life.” he whispered as he kept kissing his neck. Lucas shivered and grabbed Eliott’s shirt, letting out a little moan. 

“Eliott...”

“You were there... on my couch... defenceless, looking so fucking gorgeous. I needed some serious control to not jump on you, making you mine right then and there.” he kept whispering on such an erotic tone that made Lucas shiver. He had goosebumps all over his body, his nerves were screaming for more. He wanted Eliott so badly.

“I would have nothing against that...” he mumbled in response to Eliott’s seducing speech. The other one smirked, biting a mark on his neck happily, while his hands were sliding up and down on Lucas’ body under his shirt. 

“I don’t wanna sounds rude, but right now I found you much more delicious than the food on that table.” he said, licking the skin on Lucas’ neck. The boy gasped, holding Eliott’s arm stronger and crossing his ankles behind Eliott to keep him close. There was no escape, not this time. 

“Enjoy your meal then.” that was all he could say, but it seemed to fire up Eliott. He pulled back just to take off Lucas’ shirt, throwing it away. His lips attacked the bare skin without warning, making Lucas moan uncontrollably. He never had such pleasure in his life before, like Eliott knew exactly where to touch and kiss him to make his body a hot, screaming mess. 

He slid his fingers into Eliott’s fluffy hair, pulling it a little as the pleasure were running through his body. His mind went blank, everything around him ceased to exist, it was only him and Eliott left on this world, holding onto each other, kissing, touching, licking. It didn’t take much time to get all of their clothes off, throwing them away in the kitchen without caring where it lands. 

Sunday 13:48

Lucas sighed, looked at the boy laying next to him. They didn’t actually remember when or how they made it to the bedroom, but now they were here, legs intertwined with each other, bodies sweaty and hot, hair messy, lips red, swollen and their eyes filled with so much emotions as they looked at each other. Lucas wrapped a hand around Eliott, placing his head on his chest softly, listening to the heartbeat that was just as fast as his own. 

“I’m pretty sure the meal got cold.” Eliott mumbled into the silence of the room, which made Lucas release a little laugh.

“Yeah, We gotta reheat it later.” he said, stroking Eliott’s stomach lazily. 

“I don’t wanna leave this bed.” Eliott said, fingers wandering into Lucas’ hair to play with his soft locks. 

“We can’t stay here forever... not even if we want to.” Lucas mumbled, kissing his chest softly. “But we will have a lot of opportunities to lay here like this again.” he said on a soft voice, looking up at Eliott, who seemed to be really excited now. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Don’t you think so?” Lucas raised his eyebrows which made Eliott giggle.

“Of course I do. I just still can’t believe that this is real.” he explained, still giggling. Lucas loved this sound, he could listen to it forever. 

“People often do naked cuddling in bed after sex with their boyfriend, you know?” he said confidently without realizing what he just said. Eliott raised his head a little, looking into his eyes. 

“Am I your boyfriend?” he asked intrigued to get an answer. Lucas blushed and looked away. 

“I just thought that... you know... after this...” he mumbled a bit unsure, avoiding eyecontact. Eliott smirked, cupping his face gently now, placing a kiss on Lucas’ lips to make him shut up.

“Of course we are boyfriends.” he said happily which made the other boy to release a sigh of relief.

“Okay, good.” he mumbled, placing his head back down on Eliott’s chest. “We are boyfriends...” he whispered to himself, closing his eyes with a happy smile on his face. 

[andrewmoocow]

Fooly Falls 2 Ride on Shooting Star chapter 5: Ex-Partners in Crime (originally posted on May 30, 2019)

AN: And now the end is near. And so we face, the final curtain. My fans, I'll say it clear. I'll finish this tale, of course I am certain. I've wrote this sequel, I improved the source with my own flair. But after all of this, the climax is getting there. WKUHH ERBV, ZLWK GLVFRUG XQZDQWHG WZR ROG IULHQGV, ZLWK SDVWV IRUHYHU KDXQWHG RQH PDQ, DQ DQVZHU PDGH KLP GDXQWHG GHVWLQB OHIW WR EH DQVZHUHG, DQG WKHB'UH JRQQD EH HAKDXVWHG

--

In the style of an old black and white film, an assembly of giant irons stood perfectly single file before the setting sun. Gwen quietly watched before turning away and picked a bottle up off the ground. She then discovered a dejected worker sitting in front of a campfire with his hardhat the only splash of color. Gwen examined the sight before her when she also discovered the outline of a skeleton beneath her feet, where she placed the bottle in the center of its chest. Just then the girl dropped to her side in pain, discovering a small disk stuck in her foot that she gave to the skeleton to serve as an eye. As a nearby engine roared, steam from a structure decorated with irons covered the monochrome land like a sandstorm, sweeping her up along the way. When Gwen opened her eyes, she laid in a colorful body of water with her beanie in hand. Then the world suddenly turned greyscale as she excitedly ran along the shoreline while the Medical Mechanica factory continued to stand upright.

-- Ian whistled a familiar tune while tuning up a large computer monitor nestled within Ford's study. "Ride on shooting star. Yabba dabba doo, somethi-ing." he quietly sang while making a few final touches and dismounted from his maintenance creeper. "Okay, main screen turn on?" "Yeah, main screen turn on." Dipper answered turning to a certain someone tied up and fast asleep in a chair. "Rise and shine old friend." he announced placing a freshly cooked chicken leg under Haruko's nose, and the delicious scent wafting into it finally woke her up. "W-what happened?" she asked slowly beginning to wake up. "Last thing I remember was working on something before there was this napkin that covered me and-hey!" "There's no escaping this Raharu. You will give us the answers on your past that we've been searching for!" Ford declared dramatically stepping out of the shadows. "And perhaps some clues on what you're planning this time. Kanda?" "Will do." Tsukata replied hooking the Vespa Woman up to the machine with a helmet resembling a strainer and the monitor finally activated. "This was originally built to defend minds from the dream demon known as Bill Cipher, but now it's been rebuilt to simply read them and view the memories within." "This could be it everyone, our biggest breakthrough!" Dipper cackled joyously as it began booting up. "You okay there Dipper? You've slowly grown more unhinged." Ian asked nervously placing a hand on the older man's shoulder before he was slapped away. "I'm not going unhinged, I'm just excited to finally see through her lies once and for all!" Dipper continued lighting up a fifth cigarette. "So much so that I've literally cut my smokes in half!" "Yeah, he's officially snapped." Kanda commented taking a puff of his own cigarette and sitting down next to Haruko. "Oy, a bunch of losers the lot of you." Haruhara japed with a grin. "You've all become conspiracy theorists who'd resort to kidnapping an expecting mother just to prove a point. And since when did you take up smoking?" "Since I failed to quit." the agent muttered. "And I've been doing it to help me calm down." Dipper added taking a break from his mini-celebration. "Augh, my back." Haruko groaned struggling to reach for her back. "Must be the ropes getting a bit too tight, or you're just getting old." Kanda commented. "Naw, can't really age." the woman responded. "I've been 19 for what feels like ages now." "How many years exactly?" Ford asked writing in a new journal. "Hell if I know, probably ever since I met you-know-who." Haruko answered. "The summer I turned seventeen, was when I took up smoking for the first time." Kanda explained. "Sort of the same with me, only I took up smoking to deal with becoming a father." Dipper replied just as Project Mentem started acting up. "Oh my God, it's finally time!" "Can't believe it took one conversation for it to get started." Ian remarked pounding at the machine. "Well, let's get cracking." After a few moments of static, a full image revealed itself as a slightly younger looking Haruko dressed in drab work-clothes with a familiar iron in the background. "Wait a minute, is that-" Dipper exclaimed while his eyes widened. "Yep. Haruha Raharu, ex-factory worker." Raharu groaned in resignation over her past. "And it was back when Medical Mechanica had control over my planet too." As the younger Vespa Woman continued trudging about her day, Ford lost interest. "Let's just skip to the interesting stuff." the scientist declared fast-fowarding through the memory until it stopped at Haruha rocking out on some equipment as a makeshift drumkit. "Now that's the little devil we know!" "Hey, keep it down in there Haruha!" a strict, snarly voice cried out to her barging into the room. He was a tall, robust figure with a thick mustache, very long nose and a comically large cigar in his mouth. "Ah, good ol' Heinzenberg. A real J. Jonah he was, really miss when he would scream like crazy at everyone." Haruko reminisced on her former boss. "Either stop those abominable sounds or I'll do it for you!" Heinzenberg screamed pulling out a laser blaster and firing, but his rebellious employee swiftly escaped. "Try and catch me brushface!" "Wow, seems like everyone hated your guts." Dipper remarked as the fight between Haruha & Heinzenberg tore the workplace apart, to the ire of everybody else. When the dust settled, the area was in shambles and Heinzenberg was completely furious. "HAAAAAAA-RUUUUUUU-HAAAAAARAAAAA! YOOOOOOOOOUUUUUU'REEEEEEE FIIIIIIIIIREEEEEEDDDDD!" "Was he really that loud?" Ford asked as the Haruha on the screen was dragged away by security robots. "Yep, to the point where one had to add extra letters to whatever he was screaming." Haruko cackled before her smirk turned into a frown as Kanda fast-fowarded to the biker's home life, where she was being harshly scolded by a man presumed to be her father. "Do you realize what you've done Haruha?!" "Abusive parent, correct?" Ian interviewed their captive. "Oh you better believe it. The old man was a completely irredeemable piece of shit who loved drinking more than his own family." Raharu declared morosely, turning away from that ugly part of her past. "And as for my mom, pretty sure she got killed by him in a drunken rage. But who knows, I barely knew her." "Your slacking off and playing that infernal music nearly got us all in trouble!" Mr. Raharu drunkenly shouted after smacking his daughter across the face. "Either behave like every other girl on this godforsaken planet or never show your face around me again!" Just then, the cruddy former apartment home of Haruha started rumbling and a loud voice bellowed "SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT! I WANT TO SEE WHAT YOU GOT!" The ceiling began falling to pieces little by little, all capped off with a steel girder losing its support and falling right over Haruko's father. "WHAT THE FU-" was all he could scream before the girder reduced him to a puddle of red. "The Cromulons!" Ford exclaimed fast-fowarding to Haruko on stage before the giant planet-sized heads gazing down on her. "PLANET WASPRUS, SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT!" the Cromulon boomed. "So what, do they go around screaming at planets?" Kanda asked. "And what do they want to be shown?" "The Cromulons are a race of giant floating heads who force the inhabitants of planets to perform in their own musical contest show." Haruko answered. "My planet frowned upon any form of creativity, but I just loved sticking it to the man." "Aw shitballs you guys, we gotta run!" the belches of a middle aged man sounded as he and his two companions, a stonefaced bird person and a catlike creature, ran for the hills to a hijacked cargo ship. "Hey, the old gang!" Haruko chirped excitedly. "Wait, the what?" Ian asked staring at the screen. "Those my boy, were the Flesh Curtains." Ford stated putting a hand on the eldest Ramirez's shoulder. "A band consisting of Rick Sanchez, an old frenemy of mine; and his two weird comrades Birdperson and Squanchy." "And it's not just them. Look." Birdperson announced pointing upward to a giant red phoenix that warped itself over Wasprus. "IT SEEMS WE HAVE A SPECIAL GUEST DISQUALIFIER!" the Cromulon boomed. "LEGENDARY PIRATE KING ATOMSK, SHOW US WHAT YOU GOT!" While Rick and his posse urged the younger Haruko to not give in, she was utterly mesmerized by Atomsk's might as she slowly stepped towards him. "Don't do it babe, that's Atomsk! His power will seriously screw with your head!" Rick warned, but Haruha didn't listen and reached out to the giant bird while her hair turned into its trademark pink. A large chain wrapped around the Pirate King's neck attached to the girl's wrist and she pulled it with all her might, eventually breaking it in two. Just as Atomsk screeched, Raharu was dragged away by Birdperson and raced to the cargo ship, escaping the doomed Wasprus in the nick of time when it completely exploded. "Welp, there goes that gig." Rick groaned in defeat taking a chug out of a flask. "How's our extra cargo doing?" "Still out squanch from Atomsk." the cat-person stated checking for a pulse just as their passenger came to. "Oh geez, what happened?" Haruha moaned rubbing her head when she took notice of the old man, the bird and the cat surrounding her. "Where am I, and who are all of you?!" "Well I can assure you miss, I am not a man in a suit that will teach you the alphabet." Birdperson answered. "You may call me Birdperson. These two are my bandmates Squanchy and Rick." "Okay, we played the name game. But where's my planet?!" Raharu shouted grabbing the two animal-like creatures by their collarbones. "Well funny story babe, might wanna squanch around and see what happened." Squanchy suggested trying to break free and the future Vespa Woman took his suggestion, gazing out the back window to find what was left of her home planet. "My home's all gone." Haruha muttered shedding a few tears, but those tears were soon replaced with a celebratory manic grin. "I'M FREE!" "Whoa now, aren't you the least bit torn up about everyone you ever loved there now pretty much dead?" Squanchy stated. "I don't care, cause no one felt that about me either!" the Flesh Curtains' passenger whooped. "No more shitty dad, no more boring job, and no more stifling of creativity!" "Hell yeah, now you're speaking my language!" Rick replied merrily. "Hey, didn't get your name lass. What do they call you?" he asked putting a microphone to the girl's mouth. "I'm Haruha Raharu." she introduced herself. "Hm, doesn't roll off the tongue as much." the drunken traveler commented. "You ever tried picking up a name like the ones in the comics like Peter Parker, Reed Richards, Billy Batson or Fred Flintstone?" "I don't believe that last one came from a comic." Birdperson tried to correct his bandmate until he was shushed. "I got a great one! How about Haruko Haruhara?" Sanchez announced pretending to knight the girl with what would become her famous Rickenbacker bass. "I like it, really does sound like those old comics!" the newly renamed Vespa Woman exclaimed. "So where to?" "Wherever the hell we want to!" Squanchy answered pointing onward before the fond memory paused itself. "Ah, the old gang. We were kinda like the Fab Four back then. Rick was Paul, Birdperson was Lennon, Squanchy was Ringo and yours truly was George." Haruko thought back to happier times with a smile. "The four of us were unstoppable! Traveling the multiverse, playing gigs, sticking it to the man, making crossovers and just having fun regardless!" Haruko managed to sneak her foot out of one of her boots to fiddle with Project Mentem and fast-forwarded through many events during her travels with Rick. In particular were running from an angry mob of robots resembling ones & zeros in a city within a computer, holding a concert for tons of excited colorful fans with gemstones on their bodies, playing with a golden snail that had a phone attached to its shell which led to an entire island being destroyed, defacing a money bin and all other sorts of mischief. "But then everything went horribly wrong when we planned what I call 'The Mechanica Mission'." she stated sadly stopping at the four nomads looking over current plans. "-ere's what we're gonna do. Haruko will infiltrate the Brotherhood and rise through their ranks so she can allow us to find Atomsk." Rick explained. "Afterwards, Squanchy will break into the Medical Mechanica factory where our contact has stated he's being held in while Birdperson & I form a distraction." "So even being a first-class space patrol officer was part of your scheme as well?!" Ford exclaimed. "To be honest, I don't know what I expected." "Don't wanna delve too much into it but in a nutshell, everything went to shit." Haruko regaled forwarding faster to a standoff between her and Rick in front of a Medical Mechanica factory with armies of insectoid aliens & Medical Machines on either side, their bandmates hovering nearby on another hijacked ship and Atomsk appearing out of a giant wormhole. "So all this time, we were just being used so that you can have sex with Atomsk?!" Rick screamed as he felt betrayed by his partner. "Pretty sure his pecker is way too big to fit in your hive! And I'm really going to regret those puns!" "But wasn't there ever a time in your life where you sought after ultimate power?!" the Vespa Woman responded sadistically. "Bitch, I've been possessed by those types before! But did I use those to turn on those I legitimately care for!" the alcoholic nihilist shouted preparing to attack with his guitar. "It's no use Rick, get back here before the portal reaches maximum instability!" Birdperson cautioned his bandmate. "I'll be back in a bit you guys, gotta settle the score first." Sanchez snarled mounting what would become Haruko's Vespa scooter and charging at her with battle cry and bass. Raharu would do the same and then, the video faded to snow leaving the four men utterly flabbergasted. "So it all makes sense now." Kanda declared shutting it off. "Or at least, as much sense as a person like Haruko can make it." "Other dimensions? Wait til the others hear about this!" Ian added excitedly. "Maybe I could pitch this to whatever big Hollywood director hasn't had their reputation ruined." "At least we finally got our answers Dipper." Ford said to his greatnephew, but he received no answer. "Dipper?" Dipper on the other hand stared emptily at the blank screen contemplating over everything they just watched. Her home planet, that crazy man, the multiverse, Medical Mechanica, Atomsk. In the time he knew Haruko, her past was a total enigma with the exception of how she was a space cop gone rogue, but even that was all a sham. He began lightly snickering while clutching his head. "Ha." he flatly laughed. "Ha ha ha. Ffnk, ahoo. Ahoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo." Dipper's sanity began tumbling down even faster before his chuckling turned into full-blown insane cackling. "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" "Dipper, stop laughing and answer me!" Stanford demanded his now completely insane apprentice. "IT WAS ALL A LIE! IT WAS ALL A LIE!" Dipper screamed merrily continuing his mad chortling and smashing the screen. "YOU ARE TEARING ME APART LISA!" "Uh, has anyone seen Haruko?" Ian asked pointing out the empty stool spinning in a circle. "It seems Dipper's little episode here has given her an opportunity to flee." Ford observed on the verge of coming to a shocking conclusion. "But where could she be off t-Oh no." Just as fast as he made his realization, Ford bolted out of his study and went up the elevator to follow the lying motorist. "Where's he off to?" Kanda asked Ian. "Stan is holding a little wake for Jinyu," the eldest Ramirez son answered. "And I don't want to know what Haruko will be up to."

--

A small drum accompanied a confused rabbi singing for Julia Jinyu in front of the equally unaware attendees who are staring at Stanley and wondering among themselves why they're attending a funeral for someone who was basically unknown to them. "We have no idea who the deceased is, but I can promise she will rest in peace. May He take good care of this woman, and continue to watch over us all." the rabbi chanted before clearing his throat, switching his Jewish dialect for a growling Midwestern accent. "All right Pines, pay up!" he shouted holding out his hand and expecting cash. "Haven't got all day, have a wedding in Alabama to preside over." "Who's the lucky underage victim and their offender?" Stan asked fishing a wad of thousands out of his wheelchair. "Don't want to get anyone here mad, but it's a juicy one!" the rabbi replied with a smug grin. After snatching his bills from the old man's hand, he wordlessly allowed the audience to give their condolences before leaving. First came Senator Gideon Gleeful. Although he and Stanley made amends, there was still a friendly contempt between the two. "So how's that conspiracy against President Kitaki going?" the con-artist asked his old enemy. "Moving along quite nicely Pines. Already got the Fundshausers on my side." Gideon replied turning to Grenda & Marius with a wink and a grin. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm probably going to being voting for you." Stan admitted. "The less we need of that old hag trying to ban the possibility of intergalactic travel, the better!" Next came Masurao. "Hey I know you! You're that guy from Little Asia!" the great-uncle exclaimed. "I am sorry for your loss sir, but I'm on borrowed time." Masurao apologized before scurrying outside. "What's his deal?" "So the damn thing stood up? And it's also getting foggy." Masurao stated spying on the upright iron from below with Eyepatch. "It'll go away when the sun reaches its peak." Eyepatch responded. "Did we really need to make a pitstop at the Shack on our way there?" "Even if it doesn't have a fraction of the power it once had." his partner remarked gazing upon Canti's head while Aiko spied on the two men without their knowledge. "Don't worry, just forget about it." Eyepatch assured him before they departed in a pickup truck carrying the Medical Machine's remains while the funeral continued on as normal. Eventually the two made it to an orbit elevator area in Portland where a doglike man waited for them. "Hey champ, you training hard for tomorrow?!" Eyepatch greeted the worker with a fistbump. "Oh you know, just trying to save my money." the other man replied. "Feel free to just head on in, warehouse should be up ahead." "Good on the money sport. It's important to make plans for the future y'know." Eyepatch complimented, which warranted a grumble from Masurao. When the worker tried to pick up Canti's head, it suddenly turned on for a split second. "Hey, watch how you're handling that thing Mutt!" Masurao ordered. "It's like, vintage!" "Yeah, this is pretty heavy. My bad." Mutt quickly apologized. "That thing's a piece of junk anyways champ. Hakuna matata as they always say!" Eyepatch casually stated which earned him an earful from his younger companion. "Are you insane?! Do you have any idea how much that-" "I totes got it sir." Mutt assured them. "You know, I had a hard time throwing away my first cellphone! Sentimental value is sometimes worth the most." "You don't understand at all!" Masurao continued shouting before the other two men laughed. -- Back at Jinyu's funeral in Gravity Falls, Arnold grimly faced the wall while Juan & Jorge tried to apologize. "Please, you gotta forgive us Arnie!" the twins cried bowing to the floor in shame. "We'll do anything to make it up to you! Would you like to come with us to that new amusement park opening up?" "I'd rather go with someone who won't deliberately leave me to die just because of their manliness obsession." Arnold glowered not ever taking his eyes off the wall. "But if we bring girls with us, we'll get a hefty discount! Like 99% I heard! Aiko asked me to come with her!" Juan tried appealing to their sullen friend, but he still received no answer even as Gwen entered the room. "Fine, be a jerkass for pretty much barely any rhyme or reason for all we care!" Suddenly, Haruko abruptly barged into the living room riding on her scooter and wearing Jinyu's shades, interrupting the funeral and enraging Stan. She slammed her hands on the coffin to speak to the audience. "So listen up everybody, cause I have an important announcement to make! Kay?" Haruko declared. "I am, um, gonna get married!" she announced switching into a wedding dress to everyone's bewildered cheering. "And everyone is invited! Yes I mean everyone!" "I congratulate you on your marriage madame, but this is a place of mourning. Please save your speech til after the wake." one of Gideon's bodyguards with long hair stated. "Do we have visual on crazy pregnant biker that just interrupted a funeral?" "Noted. Prepare for detainment." his black jerry-curled partner replied swapping the burger he was eating for a cattle prod. "Oh wait wait wait, you can't inflict violence on an expecting mother & housewife like that!" Haruko exclaimed turning into a homemaker with a creepy baby doll on her back. "Now let me tell you all the tale of how my husband and I, fell. In. Love." "So my hubby and I met at an amusement park in Portland, and I was there during sunset." the so-called mother narrated through children's crayon drawings. "Clumsy ol' me was about to get hit by a roller coaster when HE swept in to save me like I was a damsel in distress! It was MY HUBBY!" The final drawing depicted Haruko kissing a humanoid red bird which struck a chord in Gwen, as if she had seen him before. "So remember everyone, amusement parks are a paradise!" the Vespa Woman preached. "Forget this sobstory, let's go have so-" "HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-RUUUUUUUUU-KOOOOOOOOOOO!" Stan screamed as loud as his nearly eight decade old lungs could cut his former friend off. "Oh hey, didn't see you there Stanley! Thought this was your funeral." Haruko remarked finally realizing who the funeral was for. "Oh, for Jinyu? You guys barely even chatted!" "Don't play coy with me Haruko! You know I'm being serious since I'm not calling you Raharu!" Stan screamed while Soos & Mabel tried to hold him back. "This will be the chapter where I'll get payback for what you've done to my family all those years ago!" "Okay I just started caring, what?" a plaid-shirted man with some grey in his brown hair & goatee asked. "The rest of you get on outta here! This is between me and her!" Stan commanded and the funeral attendees ran outside just as the coffin was opened by Sammy Determined, a tanned, geeky young man with large glasses and a beauty mark on his chin. "I've been stuck in this coffin pretending to be a dead body for like half an hour. Can I go home now?" "You're excused Sam." Stan politely accepted and Sammy raced out the door within half the blink of an eye. "Anyway, I challenge you to a little standoff sweetheart! You and me, Gravity Falls pool, be there or be half of a square!" The grunkle was just about to leave when he made a mechanical arm appear to grab Arnold. "And you're coming with me Arnold, since you're just as much of a victim here." "Help me." Arnold whimpered as he was taken outside just as Ford and Tsukata burst into the living room. "Oh lord, I'm too late!" he shouted racing around the area for any sign of his brother. "I knew this would happen, I just knew." he groaned pinching the bridge of his nose when Gwen spoke up. "What would happen Greatkle Ford?" "I just knew Raharu would purposefully cut off this funeral to get Stanley's goat." Stanford answered. "Though I'm pretty sure she's lying about being pregnant." "Hey, have you seen Dipper anywhere? Haven't seen him since you kidnapped Haruko." Mabel asked for her brother while the Vespa Woman flipped him off behind her. "We just did some digging through her mind and what we found just...broke him." Kanda answered mournfully. "Who do you think is still available right now?" "Mom and Tyrone are. They're having a mother-son day in watching bad movies." Gwen answered. "Well what are you waiting for dudette? Call 'em!" Soos urged the girl. "Hey Gwennie, wouldn't you rather go to the amusement park instead? You're the one that I wanted to go." Haruko tried to make her change her mind. "I'm not going miss." Gwen quietly said picking up her phone. "GWEN-NIE!" -- "Ha ha ha ha, now I look like an even bigger idiot!" Tyrone & Wendy monotonously cackled in unison in response to the horrible costume worn by the leading man of "Invasion of The Bear-Eating Man Family" while Tyrone knitted a new sweater for Stan. "Wow, Joel Nelson clearly had no idea what made good costuming!" he laughed. "Still slightly better than the outfit he made Michelle Hodgson wear." Wendy replied. "Or lack thereof." Just then, the phone rang. "I got it!" Tyrone shouted racing to the phone, but his mother was also focused on answering which resulted in a play-fight that her son quickly won. "Pines cabin, Tyrone speaking!" Tyrone said. "Ty, thank goodness I can reach you." Gwen sighed in relief. "Listen, has Dad come home recently?" "He's holed himself up in our room a couple minutes ago after getting a can of Willy-Nilly's Coffee beans and a knife." Wendy answered. "I'm getting really worried for him. Tyrone honey, can you go up to check on your father?" "Will do Mommy!" Tyrone accepted with a salute and merrily made his way upstairs, but his cheerfulness quickly turned into dread the further he got. When he opened the door to his parents' room, there Dipper was emptily gazing at an old Petra the Pterodactyl video while munching on raw coffee beans and squeezing a Petra plush and his son's beloved stuffed pig Waddles II in his arms. "I'm asking you for a survey Nilly, do you like Willy-Nilly's Coffee?" Dipper asked through Petra to Waddles II. "No, no I don't." Waddles II replied before Petra suddenly held a knife in its tiny three-fingered hand. "Well survey says everyone does. Because anyone who doesn't gets shanked." Petra revealed about to stab the pig before Tyrone performed a diving save on his pig. "NOOOO!" "T-T-Tyrone? What are you doing?!" Dipper shouted even more neurotically than usual. "No, I wanna know what are you doing! You tried to stab Waddles daddy!" Tyrone cried hugging his father worriedly. "I'm so sorry sport, I've just been going through some things lately." the older male responded hugging him back. "Just some...revelations making me go cuckoo for cocoa." "Like what?" his son asked. "Well for example, Raharu actually came from another dimension where she met this scientist who behaved an awful lot like Stan." Mason explained. "They went on adventures across the multiverse together, playing music and causing borderline madness. Eventually they formed a plan to steal the Pirate King Atomsk from Medical Mechanica but that went south and then everything after that was just white noise." "Wow, that sounds even cooler than what you did with her Dad!" Tyrone exclaimed in awe. "Cool, kinda. Healthy, no way in Hell." Dipper concluded putting a hand on his youngest's shoulder. "We gotta find and stop her at once. Where's your sister and cousin?" "Arnold got taken by Greatkle Stan to participate in his little feud with Haruko and I'm not sure what's up with Gwen, but I really hope everything will turn out okay!" Arnold declared with optimism, blissfully unaware of the oncoming chaos while a faint knock on the door was heard. -- "I won't let you involve my family in your schemes anymore!" Stan shouted to Haruko from the other side of the empty swimming pool. "And I don't want to be involved here!" Arnold cried begging to be let go. "Please Stan, Pacifica will kick your ass hard when she hears about this!" "Oh? You think I'm the bad guy for getting your family all tangled up in my schemes, pyon?" Haruko playfully mocked standing on the other side with her red jacket over a blue one-piece. "For a wannabe white knight, you sure are quite the hypocrite." "Arnie, bass." Stanley commanded his great-great nephew as he pushed a button on the armrest of his wheelchair that transformed it into a miniature exoskeleton to help him walk properly. "Wait, since when could you do that?!" Arnold exclaimed in shock while unveiling a certain Jazzmaster for his great-great uncle to use. "There are tons of things about my wheels that you never knew about, and some you'll never know about." Stan stated taking the guitar and slinging it over his shoulder with both hands. "Well what're you waiting for? Come at me!" "Okay. Let's do this." Haruko chummily declared just as her former friend angrily charged, but she quickly blocked the bass with just her feet. "I know you're super old, but you really got no talent nya." she groaned in disappointment. The wasp continued blocking all of Stan's attempts to land a hit and when it seemed like he was finally about to score one, instead came being kicked into the pool shed. "You learned how to fight with your back, right? Cause it seems like time has made you forget!" Stan was just about ready to surrender until he spotted Arnold nervously sitting on a deck chair and got an idea. "Tag me out kid! Tag me out!" he called for the boy while reaching out his hand. "Wait, you're serious? You want me to fight her?" Arnold said curiously. "Well, this could be a chance for me to be manly without a certain duo threatening my life." The pair high-fived and Arnold picked up the Jazzmaster to use. "I'm the boss, I'm the boss, I'm the boss, I'm the boss!" he quietly chanted to himself while charging forward and preparing a mighty swing, but Haruko then swiftly dodged it. "Whatever you wanna do blondie, you gotta do it with strength!" she announced sticking a perfect landing. Arnold however remained resolute and began muttering "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!" "This is where Stan wanted to fight Raharu!" Ford explained to Gwen & Tyrone while the three arrived at the pool but instead of seeing the other grunkle fight her, it was instead Arnold taking off his sweatervest and trying to swing again. "Use your hips, arms relaxed, chin tucked in." Haruha instructed her opponent after yet another nimble avoidance, but Arnold simply didn't listen and escaped from her grasp. "You're no good m'boy, no good at all!" "JUST STAY AWAY FROM MY FAMILY!" Arnold howled rigorously trying one last time to smack her, but was knocked down with a small tap and a declaration of "Oint." "Stan, do you have any idea what in God's name you're doing to Arnold?!" Ford hissed from the other side of the chain fence to his brother. "Don't go accusing me, the kid's just as much a victim as the rest of us!" Stan replied with a holler. "Okay, maybe I am partially to blame." "Go get'er cuz, show her what we've taught you!" Tyrone cheered for his cousin before he suddenly realized that he cheered a bit too late. "Oh right, you're down for the count. Sorry!" "If strength was measured by the hits one took, then you wouldn't be considered such a loser." Haruko said to Arnold while her bracelet began tingling once again. "To be honest, I thought you'd be better given your heritage. That's why you were taught all those things, to increase your manliness I heard. But I guess all those were for nothing because you know just about as much." As Gwen watched, something in her began trembling and her hat glowed faintly. "That's where you're wrong Raharu. You don't know anything either." Arnold argued bravely to her confusion. "The truth is, I'm completely unsatisfied!" This angered Haruko before she decided to remove her jacket right on top of the boy, which finally made Gwen go berserk. The force given off by her beanie blasted the door away and rapidly sucked Arnold inside her head. "Wait, what's going on!?" "He was right. Pacifica's gonna put all of us in the morgue." Stan regarded fearfully realizing his huge mistake when the absorption concluded leaving everyone shocked. All that was left was a bizarre black cutout with Arnold's Northwest ring on the finger. "Uh, my bad! Things will probably get worse than usual this time around." Haruko sheepishly apologized before mounting on her Vespa and preparing to take off. "I'll be waiting. She zoomed off leaving the four Pines and what was left of Arnold at the pool. "Hey, get back here you bitchy bassist! We still haven't settled our score yet!" Stan cursed angrily shaking his fists at the clouds. Gwen in comparison was utterly heartbroken by what she did to her cousin. "Oh I am so sorry about what happened to Arnold little lady." Ford said trying to comfort her. "You know, this reminds me of my Backupsmore days. Our school just won a cross-country event and we decided to celebrate by tearing everything apart. You should've seen the pool! They flipped the bitch!" "Where were you during that time?" Tyrone asked. "My roommate and I didn't want to take any part in the riot for safety reasons, so we went out for Italian." his genius great-grunkle answered. "I only wanted to lighten the mood after what happened just now, but I'm not sure how it'll work." -- Across town, business was booming at the amusement park with dozens of excited visitors of all ages stampeding through the entrance, most of them being couples. The Ramirez children were among these couples most notably Leia & Ezra, leaving Ian to watch over Juan, Jorge and Abby. "Does anyone have an idea on where Imelda is?" Ian asked his younger siblings while taking a bite out of some confectionery treats from the food stands. "She said that she got a part-time job here but hasn't come back." "While I'm just as concerned for Mel, all I want to know is WHERE IS AIKO?!" Juan cried out furiously typing on his phone. Elsewhere in the park, Tonkichi quietly observed two men fighting for the love of a girl and accidentally getting caught in each other before a red force took over their heads. "Excuse me sir, how much longer will this test ride go on?" Imelda asked Tonkichi. "Oh not too much longer." the theme park owner assured the seven-year-old. "All you gotta do is just stay right there my girl." As for Masurao, he was currently examining the park's webpage with Eyepatch. "Wait, hold on. Not that one." his senior citizen superior stated. "What? I thought it was Mr. Dodo." Masurao replied. "Don't you forget that we're dealing with super top secret stuff here, so that means we must activate the hidden communication mode." Eyepatch advised the younger male. "Go to the shopping section and push the little kiwi strap." "Which one?" Masurao exclaimed trying to find that strap. "The fluffy one right down there." On Eyepatch's commands, Masurao clicked on the image of a kiwi that led the two to a dining menu page. "Are you sure? The link went to a menu." he muttered in confusion. "Now just push She's So Chicky Wings." When he clicked on the menu item, it then guided to an article on one of the rides. "The Icarus Fall is the world's third-fastest falling ride?" "Wait wait wait, go back up!" Eyepatch shouted. "That's gotta be it, the falling one!" he added excitedly. "Uh, they're all falling." Masurao responded not knowing what his boss just said. "The one with the little emu!" "But which one?" "The one with the fluffy wings!" "You have to be more specific!" "THERE!" With a smack of his cane, Eyepatch made Masurao tap the emu which made Tonkichi appear on a video screen in his dodo costume. "Hello there, it's Mr. Dodo!" he merrily greeted them. "It's me." Masurao stoically greeted. "Don't be so sorry. Sometimes a kid will come calling me." the receiver grimly replied when another child greeted him. "Hi Mr. Dodo!" "Hey kid!" Tonkichi waved his wing at the passing child before returning to his teammates. "And any updates from Kanda?" "Nothing yet, though he has promised." Masurao answered. "But we did see the recently installed viking ship. We'll also have to deal with Immigration matters, but I don't want to rush you too much." "And what of the flower pot? Is it complete yet?" Tonkichi continued asking. "Uh sure. It can be activated at any time." Masurao muttered nervously. "The plant is online, alright!" Eyepatch declared, but their partner was too busy trying to greet a pair of girls who didn't want to be near him. "Can you please focus on your real job and see the data I sent you?" the younger redhead groaned incredulously. "This is a real job too!" Tonkichi argued. "Don't you know that this park helps fun-" "Do you think we can make do without that pot?" Eyepatch asked his colleague as the latter closed the video on Tonkichi and Aiko overheard their conversation. "I doubt it." Masurao groaned in defeat. "If you can't activate the flower pot, any backup plans we come up with will be useless!" "Shut up, I know that!" Aiko's father exclaimed while his daughter went upstairs to look for money she made off her dating service in a jack-o-lantern situated in her closet. "Aiko." Masurao called for his daughter while she frantically closed the closet door. "What is it?" the girl asked and her dad just looked down for a moment. -- "So which one of us do you think Pacifica will kill first?" Stan asked while Tyrone helped put his wheelchair back together, Gwen examined the balloon that was once her cousin and Ford collected some leftover pool water that he put into a beaker. "Personally, I'm betting on you poindexter since you started all this by bringing Gwen here." "I started this?!" Ford shouted angrily. "You're the one who's fostered this animosity with Raharu for literally twenty years ever since she first left us!" Still fuming, the scientist examined the beaker he had just used along with four others containing radioactive waste, soy sauce, machine oil and a strand of pink hair. "And what are you up to?" Stan asked gazing at the beakers. "Just been experimenting on some substances to make a superhuman formula. Just got some pool water from here, soy sauce from Little Asia, radioactive sludge from Scuttlebutt Island, machine oil and some of Raharu's hair." "How is that going to do anything of substance you nerd?" Stanley hissed. "Well, other than probably give you a killer stomachache." "It's still highly experimental brother, so maybe there is a chance of a killer stomachache." Stanford agreed before the two great-grunkles gazed at Gwen holding the balloon in her arms. "S-so thirsty." a familiar voice croaked through Arnold's ring. "W-water." "Great Caesar's ghost, he's alive!" Tyrone exclaimed while his big sister took the balloon to the pool showers. "Hey, put on a smile sis! Arnold's still out there!" he tried to cheer her up when the showers seemingly activated on command. "I don't want to remember what happened this morning." Gwen monologued reminiscing to earlier that day in manga form. -- "Oh good morning Gwennie!" Wendy greeted her daughter coming down the stairs. "Check it out, Jinyu left us so many clean & unbroken plates." Gwen however wasn't interested. "Something the matter my little pecan pie?" her mother asked. "I'm just back to my normal self, that's all." "No, you seem eerily different." Wendy said concernedly just as her daughter stepped outside and she realized something. "I've...changed?" Gwen stuttered going back inside to find her mom packing some small boxes. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Just...have fun at the Shack little dude. And tell Stan I send my condolences." Wendy said trying to dodge the question. "And also tell Arnold his aunt says hey!" "Seriously mom, why are you packing? Are we going to move?!" Gwen shouted suddenly getting angry. "I thought Dad wanted to stay here to catalogue all the weird crap going on here and hang with Aunt Mabel!" Wendy frowned to herself over her daughter's feelings before turning back to her. "I think it's time we try something different. Y'know, I always wanted to live in Portland." That was when Gwen's beanie beeping began to coincide with her bursting into tears. -- Returning to the present, the shower stopped and the balloon began to inflate in Gwen's arms. "Hey, is this about losing Jinyu, Greatkle Stan getting mad at Haruko, or losing Arnold?" Tyrone tried to console the older girl. "I'm here for you if you wanna shoulder to cry on." The balloon reached its maximum size and drifted to the ceiling above the kids. Taking a poolstick, Gwen grabbed it and took it outside where it was properly able to ascend. And then, as her beanie began blinking once again, she made a miniature crater beneath her feet which horrified her present family. "Find, the others, now." Ford muttered. -- "Hi, I'm Mr. Dodo!" Tonkichi greeted the happy couples in his mascot costume, but none were paying attention. "Looks like everyone's having a great time, am I right? Hey! Boys and girls!" he exclaimed while a group of employees armed with firearms assembled behind him. "You're all just little brats who still don't have all your hair down there! Sorry, but you're all pretty much useless!" The employees then aimed their weapons at the unknowing parkgoers on command. "FIRE!" Tonkichi ordered. "Sorry, wrong voice." he realized clearing his throat and switching to a deeper voice. "FIRE!" The weapons launched a series of red beams that tagged everyone and making the same red force appear in their heads. "THIS IS WHY I DON'T TRUST THEME PARKS!" Ezra screamed in pain as he and Leia became victims as well. "If I don't make it out of here alive, I want you to know Leia that I really do love you, and I'm basically a tsundere!" "Ha, called it!" Leia chuckled before she went back to screaming and gazed terrified at her brother. "Ian, get the kids away and we'll all catch up later! You four are the only single ones here!" she shouted to Ian. "Right! Juan, Jorge, Abby, come with me!" "But where do we find them? Where do we find Mommy and Daddy?!" Abby cried as Jorge took her arm. "Not sure, but they're probably just as lost as all the other couples here are!" Juan exclaimed racing off. The energy collected from the visitors soon filled up all the big rides at the park and caused them to lift themselves out of their supports. "They started already?!" Masurao shouted watching the chaos from afar. "I have to warn the Pines." Tsukata declared gazing through his binoculars. The attractions gathered around the big castle at the center, including the viking ship that Imelda was trapped on, and formed into a giant robot. "Captain, I don't think we'll make it!" one of the employees shouted. "We've got to do it! No matter the cost, we'll show them all!" Tonkichi declared bravely as the castle bot faced the upright Medical Mechanica iron. "They may smooth out our brains, but they'll never smooth out our freedom! START THE ATTAAAAACK!" The castle robot launched everything it got at the giant iron, but nothing worked and the factory in turn blasted a giant laser that instantly burnt the opposing machine to cinders. -- Far above Earth, Arnold's inflated husk drifted out of the atmosphere and towards an Immigration Control Center satellite storing lost items. A mechanical hand snatched the balloon and tossed it down the chute to be scanned & later dumped into the old Gravity Falls junkyard which attracted the attention of a familiar-looking robot dog. "Well I'll be. Aren't you just the cutest little thing?" Older Man McGucket greeted the little mutt. "Hey I know you! You're that spindly johnny who followed the kids around!" The genius hillbilly scooped up some of the trash from the box it was dumped in, including Arnold's remains, and put it in a dog bowl for the canine machine to eat. "Eat up now little feller!" -- Back at the amusement park, Haruko was spectating the whole battle when she felt her stomach return to its normal size. "So they're still doin' it, huh?" she mumbled getting back to her entertainment when she saw a few familiar faces. "For the record, we already knew something was up long before you warned us!" Ford shouted to Kanda when he spotted Haruko. "Raharu! Can't believe I'm saying this, but we got a problem!" Along with the Stans, Tyrone, Dipper, Mabel, Wendy, Ian, Leia, Juan & Jorge, Abby, Ezra, Soos, Melody, a very angry Pacifica preparing to use a broken bottle as a shiv and Kanda was a now cybernetic Gwen glaring furiously at the Vespa Woman. "Lookin' good Gwennie!" Haruko complimented with a wolf whistle and a nosebleed. "You're really killing it!" Gwen didn't reply with her words, but instead with a gold battering ram launching from her robot arm. "Just so we can all reach a compromise, all of you are to blame for this!" Pacifica shouted tranquilly. "Whoa, hold on all y'all!" Haruko exclaimed avoiding the younger girl by jumping on the roller coaster tracks. "Stop it, I didn't do nothing wrong!" "BULL-FUDGING-SHIT RAHARU!" Stan cursed as Gwen followed his former partner preparing to use the other Mustang to help his great-great niece. "All I did was give you all a little nudge, reignited some old passions, helped you with your dreams, s'all!" "Give him back! Give Arnold back!" Gwen screamed continuously attempting to hit her. "Wah-ho! Guess the Pines still have quite a lot of fight in them!" Haruko exclaimed before she found Dipper, Mabel and Pacifica right behind her. "Give me back my son or else." Pacifica hissed arming herself with Jinyu's Jazzmaster. Before anyone of them could fight, Haruhara surfed away further up the coaster rails. "In the end, you're no different from the rest of us!" Gwen snarled leaping away from her family to give pursuit. "It's all because you're in love with that weird bird, right? You're just another girl stupidly in love!" "See, like I kept telling you Raharu! You can't force someone to love you!" Dipper agreed with his daughter. "Oh quit parroting Mason or I'll shove crackers down your throat to shut you up!" Haruko shouted to the Pines father before she noticed her bracelet starting to react to something amiss. "Huh?" "Uh, dudes!" Soos exclaimed gazing up at the reddening sky. "Is the multiverse going all kaput or am I thinking of some other cataclysmic event?" he asked cuing the others to look up as well. "No. Way." Ford & Kanda boomed in shock. Soon everybody important to the story gazed up at the sky and Haruko realized just who it was. "It's Atomsk." -- AT LAST, IT IS DONE! I started kinda late on this chapter, but it was all worth it to finally beat my deadline. What will become of the Pines family and friends? Will Haruko finally control Atomsk? Why does McGucket recognize that oddly familiar dog? Join us next time for the final chapter of Fooly Falls 2: Ride on Shooting Star and be sure to read my other works for more!

[davidmann95]

This week's comics? Specifically, new Tom King Batman/Green Lantern?

Hoo boy, this week was a hefty one. Tackling your requests at the top, and no spoilers this week:

The Green Lantern #2: It’s surprising how non-action-driven this has been for the first couple issues - it really is space cop stuff first and foremost, in this case an interrogation. I see what Morrison meant in interviews when he said people would take Hal’s voice as odd in this, and I hope he’ll follow though when he said the core of his take’ll be a little clearer soon, but even so I’m liking him well enough as the traditional straight-take superhero anchor to the 2000ADness of it all. The Oa spread on page 7 is absolutely jaw-dropping, and the guest villain of the issue explaining his name is the best thing in superhero comics this week, and possibly this year.

Batman #60: I’ll admit the last 5-6 issues or so haven’t been tremendously doing it for me, but it certainly looks like it’s about to pick back up. And good lord, Jorge Fornes had better be getting any assignments he pleases.

Justice League #13: Grisly at it gets, the best word I can think of for this issue is a romp. It’s total old-school superhero adventure and villainous monologuing, just minus the hero part of that. Honestly, I’m almost worried about these Legion of Doom one-shots’ role in terms of the integrity of the run as a whole *as a Justice League run*, because it’s this side that feels so much more vibrant and fleshed-out. Granted Snyder and Tynion get full ownership of the villains involved so there’s more room to play, but I almost feel like this team would rather just be doing a Legion of Doom book period, because this is where the whole thing sings, great as the regular League stuff in here always is too.

Adventures of the Super Sons #5: I rag on Tomasi, but he’s not a bad writer, he’s a writer with specialties. And Super Sons is hitting all of those specialties, and I love it.

Shazam! #1: I checked this VERY tentatively on a recommendation and from how great the premise sounded, and unbelievably, it’s good. Not the next big thing by any means, but great superhero stuff that takes a modern bent on the material but maintains the warmth and wonder that defines Marvel at his best. It reads for all the world like a writer doing a very deliberate course-correction from how horrifically Geoff Johns fucked up the character top to bottom…except it’s actually Geoff Johns, essentially pulling a 180 on his own reboot? Whatever, Johns somehow rules (though there’s one or two lines in the backup that feel like notable Johnsisms), Dale Eaglesham rules, Mayo Naito rules on the backup, and this book, on the whole, rules.

Archie Meets Batman ‘66 #5: Feel like it’s lost some steam, but on the whole it remains a delight regardless.

Border Town #4: Everyone should still be reading this.

DIE #1: Kieron Gillen is a writer whose craft I can always respect, but usually it isn’t until reread that I truly get a kick out of his work. Don’t know what the difference is here - Stephanie Hans, the premise, the tone, the small core cast - but this seems to be the one that’s gonna grab me right off the bat.

The Wicked + The Divine #40: On the other end of the Gillen spectrum, I’ve been lost here for awhile, so I appreciate this issue essentially reestablishing the fundamentals of what’s up as we head into the finale.

West Coast Avengers #5: Digging this! Quietly one of Marvel’s upper-tier titles at the moment. Still wanna grab Thompson’s Hawkeye run someday.

Marvel Knights #3: Fine. Exactly good enough for me to stick around for 3 more issues, knowing Cates is coming back for the end.

Shatterstar #3: I’m not convinced this shouldn’t have just been a one-shot about him as a landlord, but it’s still fun and it’s easily got me for the two remaining issues.

Killmonger #1: Top-tier shit by two creators I already loved but still underestimated. Hill has a remarkable talent for switching up his style with each project, and Ferreyra is going to be The Next Big Thing.

The Merry X-Men Holiday Special: Initially more miss than hit for me, but the ratio improves over the course of the book. However, while I was glad to see Hanukkah represented a fair deal, I can’t help but wish they called it the X-Men X-Mas Special.

Venom #9: Issa ittle-bittle Venom pupper! Otherwise solid but mainly left me more looking forward to the immediate future than getting much from what we had here (even if it laid the foundation here for what makes said future worth looking forward to).

The Best Defense: The Immortal Hulk #1: Rules. It’s Ewing Hulk (or really in this case Ewing Banner, the first story where he’s truly taken center stage other than kind of #2, making it in my opinion fairly indispensable to Immortal Hulk thematically if not plotwise), of course it rules.

The Best Defense: Namor #1: Also rules! I knew Zdarsky more than had the chops for heavier material, but this still came as a surprise that excites me for his Invaders, and Carlos Magno was a name I don’t believe I’ve seen before but quite liked. Kind of dislike though that each of these is a #1 when the recurring sequence and checklist in the back really does give this an implicit reading order; it’d definitely confuse readers who didn’t go in already knowing how this was gonna be structured.

The Immortal Hulk #10: Still the best comic on the stands, though there’s an ad placement at the end I really feel detracts from the big moment. And someone asked about the title, and I’m pretty sure it’s the mythic reference rather than an SCP one, even if I could imagine Ewing having seen that at some point.

Martian Manhunter #1: Absolutely brilliant on every level, more than carrying me through a startling premise I’m not at all geared to accept by default. Keep an eye on this one, I can’t imagine it not being one of DC’s most acclaimed books for the entirety of its run, and J’onn’s definitive story pretty much by default.

The Unexpected #7: Sharply picks up as it screams into the finale, but it’s still in every way a pale shadow of what it should have been.

Doomsday Clock #8: Well, it’s certainly still fascinating. At the 2/3rds mark Superman finally takes his place as the advertised co-lead, and while it’s probably the least technically ambitious issue so far (on that note, for a series as meticulous as this tries to be, it’s very noticeable and distracting that Superman switches between the plain red cape and having the yellow s-shield on the back), it’s probably the most thematically interesting and true to the described premise of the whole thing, showing Superman at his best trying and failing to function in a DCU that’s had its narrative underpinnings usurped by Watchmen. This is definitely on the better end of Johns’ treatment of him, with the whole issue anchored by a genuinely wonderful scene between him and the other major hero taking point for this specific installment,* and that’s what makes it work when everything goes to hell.

* It took me an embarrassingly long time to figure out why Johns picked the character he did here, even if ‘long time’ in this case means ‘actively thought about it for literally seconds’: (rot13.com) ur'f gur Ahpyrne Zna. Trqqvg? Nyfb, juvyr fbzr crbcyr unir ernq vg gung jnl, V qba'g guvax gur vqrn ng gur raq vf fhccbfrq gb or gung Sverfgbez vf Znaunggna, whfg gung gur raretl fcvxr orsber gur gryrcbegngvba ng gur raq orybatrq gb uvz engure guna Ebaavr. Nyfb, Puevfg V ubcr gurl qba'g ernyyl chg gur WFN onpx nf choyvp urebrf cerqngvat Fhcrezna naq gur erfg ol qrpnqrf. Jbefg ynetr-fpnyr ergpba QP rire chyyrq, yrffravat yvgrenyyl rirel punenpgre vaibyirq.

[magic5ball]

Nature Trail to Hell Arc V: Back into Hell (II)

Chapter 2: The Reunion

“Face me, demon!” the Shatster kept at with his cleaver, breath forming fierce clouds in the air. First I was right scared, sharp object and all that, but seeing how I was a ghost, it wasn’t really a problem.

No, the real probelino was getting Shatner to NOTICE me for a sec.

You know how in the movies they’ll show ghosts moving stuff around like its’ nothing? From experience, I can promise you that is GRADE-A BUNKO! When you’re spectral, you don’t have muscles and living stuff, so while going through walls is pretty neat, it also means lifting a q-tip is a complete workout!

Fortunately, my ghost lungs were still in working order, and with a bit of work I could make my breath mist. From there, I just blew on a wall, painted words on with my index finger, and… voila! Instant messaging without the phone!

SHATER YOU NERD IT’S ME

The big guy, for his part, stared like he’d just seen a ghost, which wasn’t really surprising.

A few seconds of gaping like a flounder at my little message, he stared just to the left of me, coughing out

“W-Watterson Tostig? After all this time?!”

YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT, BOOGER BRAIN.

One more deep breath.

WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON HERE?

“R-right!” Cried Shatner. “I’ll get us some tea!”

                                                        .   .   .

My mouth was too stiff to tell him I’d rather drink sewage than something that came from a vegetable (tea does come from vegetables, right?), so I kinda just sucked it up and went along with it.  

Without even asking me what I wanted, Shatner led me to what I can only call some sort of break room.

           Empty, grey place, lit only by a birthday cake with ten little candles at its’ center. Surrounding this cake, like the world’s crappiest campfire, were a pair of overturned egg crates. I plopped my keister on one of those crates as the big guy left for the kitchen. I could only sit there, teeth chattering, wondering how my dinosaur friends were doing. There, in that barren room, paralyzed, helpless, barely able to move my teeth, realizing what a stupid not-really-a-full-fledged plan I had was, I realized something. A great, sudden revelation that strikes like lightning but leaves just as quick, but changes your life forever:

Global Warming is never there when you need it.

And who would barge in at this moment with all the grace of a sixty ton mammoth but Shatner, carrying two piping hot mugs of plant juice, a hideous abomination (‘sweater’, he corrected me) draped over his shoulder.

The sweater faded right through me as he flung it on my seat. Then, he added

“And don’t bother trying to eat the birthday cake. Bloody thing’s frozen solid by this point ( believe me, I have tried) and those candles may very well be the last source of heat in this blasted wasteland!”

Not like I could sneak a bite anyway, being spectral and all that.

Instead, I inhaled the steam coming off my tea, just the slightest bit of feeling returning to my limbs. Then I exhaled on the table, writing

WAIT. IF THE ONLY HEAT IS FROM THAT CANDLE, THEN HOW’D YOU MAKE THE TEA?

“Well my friend, that warmth you feel is the product of none other than yours trulys’ body heat!”

Just like that, I wondered if it was possible to un-inhale something. Then I remembered breathing out is a thing and felt real dumb.

“But try as I might to conserve body heat, I find it slowly, inexorably lost to the throes of entropy.” He waxed, making me forget my woes for a sec. “But enough about me, let’s talk about you. Specifically, your state of life. Or lack thereof. Because I do believe you have been dead these past few weeks. I’ve even seen the body! So-“

he said the last part real quick, like emphasizing something, “How did you get here, Watterson Tostig? How did you do it? Or are you simply an apparition brought on by the steady diet of Salisbury Steak I have subsisted on for the past few days?”

IT’S WATT, YOU NERD!

I set the record straight, really digging my index finger into the table.

“Watt. Yes, yes. My apologies.” He countered. “Now as you were saying…”

Of course, I didn’t really feel like writing down the whole story then and there. My ghost index finger was starting to get right numb. There had to be some quicker way! That’s when I remembered that, besides moving through walls, ghost can also do a crazy little thing called possessin’ folks! Now, they were never real specific about how they do that in the movies, but I figured it couldn’t be THAT hard.

Long story short, it took a good ten minutes to cram my ghost body into the Shatster’s confused mouth. If I’d only waited a year later, I’d have found you’re supposed to go through the butthole.

Not that I would have done that, anyway.

It was warm, in Shatner. Warm and moist. But most important, I could mentally project the entire story up to this point into his thick noggin in seconds. Every single crazy adventure I’d been through over the summer. By the time I’d I could see his face reflected in the linoleum floor, gaping like I’d told him the moon was made of rotten bananas.

“I’ve seen a great deal of oddity in my life,” he began, “And I can safely assure you that what you have just describe transcends nearly all of it.”

Not sure if the guy was complementing me or not, nor did I care, my eyes more focused on the beef jerky poking out of his pen holder (which all nerds have). I grabbed it, shoving the thing into his (our?) mouth.

Actually tasted half-decent! (Then again, most things taste half decent after you’ve been eating nothing but stale Cheetos and air for the past few days).

“What’s this? Tastes fancy.” I asked.

“Reconstituted Salisbury Steak.” He replied “Hilda’s terrible management of this camp irreparably botched up our food deliveries, so it was cast upon me to find a substitute.”

“Speaking of that, how did you get back here, anyway?” I asked, my voice coming out of his mouth, which was kinda weird.

“Well, if you must know…” he began. And I sat, realizing what massive torrent of WORD I had unleashed.

Shatner lectured me longtime, but the short of his story is: he ran right back home to where his little spider was waiting for him. Amazingly, he had memorized the path all the way back to his house. But when he got there, it turned out his aunt had in fact kept his spider fed, and was none too pleased with her nephew’s devious act of truancy.

“Though knowing Auntie, she was likely more furious at me for having doubted her responsibility than for absconding as I did.” Is how he put it.

After that he was dragged back to camp with all the ceremony of a death row inmate. And not metaphorically, either. His aunt literally dragged him by the collar all the way back!

“When we got there, it didn’t seem so bad. It was, I daresay, idyllic: birds chirping, sun high in sky, glowing jade green as it filtered through the tree leaves…(an entire page’s worth of pretentious crap yours truly has cut out for your own sanity), but the moment she left, the grand curtain of deception dropped, starting Act I of Hilda’s terrible play.”

           Of course, calling what Hilda did a ‘terrible play’ is like calling the first day you got soap in your eyes ‘an experience’. Kind of an annoying thing about the Shatster: rip the guy’s arm off and leave him bleeding on a cold linoleum floor and it would just be a ‘minor inconvenience’.

(Incredibly long and kinda violent) story short, Hilda basically started using Ms. Hoebag, now demon possessed, as her puppet,  giving the kids complete and utter control of the camp. Almost made me wish I stayed. Almost.

“The trouble was, this age of prosperity lasted but a few paltry hours. For as lofty as Hilda’s goals were it seemed she was not so adept at ensuring food and electricity were paid for.”

This little statement almost made me drop my jerky.

“What, did she not leave any teeth for the food and electricity fairies?”

“As a matter of fact, she forgot to pay the camp’s bills.”

“What?”

“You know, bills. What the grown-ups use to pay for stuff?”

“That’s not what my Dad told me.” I protested “He says we get it from the food and electricity faeries. I have to leave my loose teeth under the bed as payment.”

I could see Shatner’s left eye twitching. Poor guy just couldn’t handle not being the smartest in the room.

“Anyhow,” he continued, “as I was saying-“

           Without bills being payed and whatnot, it wasn’t long before Hilda stepped in to form a government, a government based on SHARING! How in the name of all that is good in the world the other kids agreed to that, I’ll never know, but apparently it had something to do with Vernon hiding all the ice cream sandwiches under his bunk. And by ‘government’, Hilda basically set up the exact thing Ms. Hoebag had going! Well, except for turning me into a martyr. And claiming everything she did was my will. Not exactly a fan of that. So once Hilda had set up her sharing policy and assigned some of the kids to enforce these laws (who might I mention were the SAME LOSERS WHO KISSED UP TO HOEBAG) it was time to vote on a camp currency. Since everyone liked ice cream sandwiches, those were chosen. Problem was, without the electricity the sandwiches melted fast as, well, ice cream in the summertime.

“Though I am not completely certain regarding the details of the matter, it seems Hilda proposed a plan to make it Christmas every day. The logic being, of course, that since Christmas is cold, and ice cream thrives in such frigid conditions, by making it cold the camp could preserve the last of the ice cream. After they sold their collective souls to a demon under the guise of a “character building activity”, their wish was granted… in the form of the most infernal, unsavory aspects of what I quite frankly consider an incredibly cynical interpretation of the winter solstice.”

“X-Mas…” I whispered, on account of that’s what we called ‘Evil Christmas’ back at my home.

Didn’t know what to be more amazed by: the fact that there was Christmas in July, or that in spite of everything, there were still mosquitoes buzzing around.

           At this point, Hilda realized that she was going to have to make the camp some money, because they (and by ‘they’ I mean she) desperately needed heat and they weren’t going to make any singing old Russian choir chants in front of the mess hall, even if it did make for some admittedly awesome camp postcards. So the kids at arts and crafts were assigned to make Papier-Mache Yugos. Amazingly, they sold because at the end of the day, they were still better than the real deal. Too bad most of the cash went into purchasing tigers. With the rest of the money, they were able to afford sixty pounds of Styrofoam, which Hilda told everyone to rip up and pretend it was heat.  (How the FUDGE does that even work?!)

“And such is the camp I arrived back at that terrible day, when Auntie returned me.”

Now, you might have noticed this has been a bit long, but gosh darn it, its’ still shorter than the little spiel Shatner gave me!

“And so I arrived here.” He sighed. “Slowly freezing to death in this wretched Gulag. At first Hilda made me haul snow like everyone else- pretended she never knew me! -before she saw my talents might be able to produce something edible from the snow. Like I could just pull food from thin air!”

“So how’d you do it?”

“You might remember our altercations with regards to the camp’s disreputable offal known as ‘Salisbury Steak’.”

“So what of it?”

Shatner wretched open a pair of creaky wooden doors leading into the floor, after undoing several rusty old locks. Even with the darkness, I could see something fleshy, pink, and BIG!

“”Oh. You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

[madokasoratsugu]

therefore you and me post-production notes (or: murphy’s law as a project that has been two years in the making)

ive had this idea for ‘therefore you and me’ and Fritz ever since i first played CindPhenon. nothing ever fell into place until i played Evermore though, so here we are!

drafting this project was pretty easy tbh (see: hubris). the parallel imagery and everything about the lyrics was right up my alley aha.

fun thing with the lyrics: TadanoCo uses ‘要る (iru)’ in the line ‘Which do you want (iru)? Or do you want neither (iranai; aka negative form of ‘iru’)?’

‘ 要る ‘ as a verb can mean ‘to be wanted’ or ‘to be needed’. 

hence, the line can also be read: ‘Which do you need? Or do you need neither?” or any other variation of the verb’s usage. 

it’s halfway through drawing the lineart that murphy’s law began. 1) i drew ~15 panels on the wrong dimensions, and had to redraw them all (lol), re-grey tone (LOL), and re-ink (LOLOL). it was not a fun three days.

then i lost momentum because of lunar new year (happy late lunar new year btw! happy year of the ox :”) )

anyway: the moment i regained momentum for the project again, i hit a roadblock in the form of overconfident, sloppy drafting (see: hubris is my downfall). 

because of the lack of clear drafting for certain panels (and changes to previous panels), i had to redraft two different sections of the PV while keeping in mind that there was the bridge still to be drafted. fun ! 

i decided to simplify the bridge. can you believe it was supposed to be another animation. i can’t. so i scrapped it.

(slight tangent. Evermore’s release honestly cleared up a lot of uncertainty regarding the direction of the PV and whether or not to include Fritz’s mother (who I still fondly call Beatrice). im really happy the PV never came to fruition before Evermore’s release, as im not sure i would have done half as good a job without Evermore’s content.)

back to the hubris of proceeding with a messy draft - there was a lot of push and pull internally for me as to how much i should keep to the original PV and how much i should just put my spin on things. i ended up doing a bit of half-and-half, i think. 

but really, it only delayed things as i ended up redrafting and having multiple drafts of certain panels haha//

the last two choruses were honestly my favourite parts to draw. the shift from Varg’s clothes and colours to Fritz, Fritz’s acceptance of Varg and the soft way Varg looks at Fritz (and no one else). there’s something cathartic about acceptance and acknowledgement. i think that’s what i aimed to really capture.

also: in between drawing all the panels, murphy’s law 2) my Evermore itchio game file ? got deleted off my computer ? 

it’s a very old, barely functional brick so im lowkey unsurprised but at the same time it was a crazy experience and setback when i needed to reference certain scenes. oh, and Steam decided to not download Evermore too. i still haven’t fixed that one. haha. ha.

i have screenshot posters to thank for uploads of certain CGs, although im still pretty sure its best not to post a ton of those publicly at one shot?

also, i had to scrap the recreation of the famous ‘did you love Varg’ scene because of this aha. looking back now, i think it worked out. 

(another tangent: using referencing as an excuse, i actually took the opportunity to replay Fritz’s route for the third time. i ended up checking nothing at all and falling in love with the masquerade scene again.) 

up till the very end, im still not sure if everyone got that the line “You are love itself.” was meant to be said by Lucette to Fritz. i colour-coded Lucette with her own unique blue for the PV, which was the same hue as the line. i hope that it got across, aha.

with that said, video production was a whole entanglement in and of itself. i think murphy’s law really took up a hammer and swung hard at this stage.

timing was actual hell. im usually not this bad at it, but this project in particular was tricky bc TadanoCo uses a lot of background beats that aren’t overt, which his PV also matches - i think? or maybe im just not good at recognising beats from lack of video/music production haha//

hence there were certain scenes i was stuck at and kept revising because i wasnt clear where the beat was meant to be, what transitions i should use, and when the transitions should be.

subtitling was actually really fun! until i rendered my first version and realised all the subtitles were completely off and blurry.

turns out my project properties were different from my video properties, hence the off-alignment. huh. didnt know those were Actual Things(tm). 

also, quick tip to all vid-making amateurs like me out there: you may have to double the dimensions of the font’s media properties if you dont want them to come out fuzzy. another thing i didnt know lol. 

anyway all this lead to: me needing to spend another evening to redo subtitles. haha. it was not a fun two back-to-back 3am nights + extra evening afterward.

in between all this was countless rendering tests to guess-and-check what’s causing numerous errors in the video btw.

and with those rendering tests came: glaring mistakes in the panel art that i only now spotted and had to fix, and refix, and refix again. then reimport into sony vegas, put it into the video, render and double check if it’s alright. rinse and repeat countless times ! haha ! PV making is fun !

i think i nearly redid a certain scene with the exact same panels once. like i said: not a fun two 3am nights.

that said: i dont know how all this technical issues (and more) popped up and were resolved over two 3am nights and one evening. im not about to question it either. 

at this point: panel art - fixed ! subtitling all redone ! render works fine, everything checks out.

i make the mistake of uploading it directly to yt instead of leaving it unlisted first.

murphy’s law 3) when im watching the vid on yt, the yellow parts in the second verse were completely unable to be seen. 

panic put it on unlisted. people are already watching it and leaving (very sweet) comments. panic delete it.

btw if you’re one of the first three commenters reading this: thank you for the quick response !! it means a lot and made me really flustered in a good way :”))

cue me re-colouring those scenes, redo-ing the section and oops, is that a panel in the masquerade scene where Fritz literally is missing his mask ??? 

i think i lost my mind entirely at this point. from then on i was fueled by spite to complete this cursed project.

at thereforeFINAL.mp4, (version five of the full PV, version maybe 10-11 of all the rendered videos, including tests) finally. finally it is done. 

i upload it.

the end !

(except, not really. because here you are at post-production notes detailing the worst luck i’ve ever had with PV making. 

i learnt a lot from this though, and honestly on hindsight i should have learnt all these from my first PV but nothing went wrong at this magnitude so i kinda just...shelved it aha//

but really, im relieved it turned out well, and that i took the time to redo scenes until i was satisfied. for a PV that’s been waiting in the background for two years now, i think this is the least it deserves. 

if the comic about Fritz and Varg (which i referenced in one of the last choruses, i wonder if anyone caught that?) was meant to be a love letter to Fritz’s route, i think this PV ought to be a tribute to the character himself. 

although - hm, this isn’t quite as good a tribute to Fritz as it is to his route, maybe? i don’t know, haha ! maybe it’s just myself wanting to make excuses to create more for him//

i was thinking of continuing on about the PV and it’s significance to Fritz and Varg, but hm. maybe not on this post. maybe some other one, some other time.

but at it’s core, at it’s simplest, most raw - i think i just wanted to explore what it means to Fritz to ‘want’ and to ‘need’ with this PV.

thank you for watching the PV, and thank you for reading this.

- blu.)

[wandering-bitch]

Annotations on I Have Always Loved The Door (pt 3)

I Have Always Loved The Door is my Mianmian/Wen Qing fic about reconciling with your past, growing into yourself, and also Swords. Here’s director’s commentary on the last third of the fic, chapters 11-15!

chapter 11: hahaha everything’s getting worse

my notes in the outline said “fatal journey happens, we cried, u know”

look im still not 100% over fatal journey. nie brothers nie brothers nie brothers!!!!

just realized we referred to jgy as meng yao??? probably because this is around when i started writing Falling in Love with Love (Again) which takes place b4 sunshot

however i will say that nmj calls him meng yao bc he’s being petty

ah yes the next jgy scene!!! i struggled with how to write his thinly veiled threat so it was clear it was a threat while also being perfectly innocuous. I think i managed here

honestly in this universe jin guangyao is going to try to murder wen qing and mianmian is gonna have to spend so much time protecting her.

“huang daiyu and dinner! my two favorite things!” mianmian why are u such a lesbian

im very sorry about nie mingjue burning nie huaisang’s art but it did happen in the novel and i love how much it hurts

“[nmj] stepped into her space, hand on baxia. wen qing had been glared at and threatened by many men in her life. she had stopped cowing to them years ago” im a little proud of this. the mental image of nmj stepping so close he has to crane his neck down to see her, assuming she’d move back. and wen qing staying put and glaring at him just as grumpily from like. right below his nose

ch 12: swords swords swords. 

mianmian’s pure joy at getting swords!!! my joy at writing swords!!!! people respecting mianmian!!!!

(mianmian Knows huang daiyu is a wen at this point bc she’s not a dang idiot, she knows whomst would fear their identity being leaked)

i casually said mianmian fucked jiang yanli for two reasons: one, because i’m just not interested in writing a character having a sexuality crisis and 2. because jiang yanli fucks.

say it with me kids: jiang yanli fucks.

i had such trouble figuring out what things the vice general of qinghe would need to do at this point haha

“i’m not a complete sword jock” 

“if you’re going to call me jie i’m going to use that authority to tell u what to do” “and if i didn’t call u jie” “then i’d use my authority as ur doctor”

ch 13: makin a choice 2 stay

this is around when i lost major steam writing this. i knew some of the things i wanted to touch on (the memorial banquet, a cute date, the reveal tm) but not the shape of the ending

however, writing the banquet scene helped me figure out part of it: wen qing finding that qinghe can be a place she belongs, even if she has to leave. ma lingzxin and xiang tengfei deciding “this is our doctor and if anything happened to her we would kill everyone in this room”

(honestly they join mianmian’s “keep jgy’s schemes away from the infirmary” team)

Mianmian Wants To Kiss Huang Daiyu 

ch 14 final date <3 <3 <3 <3 

sword content. look every time someone commented that they liked the sword content i became more powerful. i don’t think of myself as swayed by readers (for instance i did not change anything about nmj dying even tho ppl kept hoping and praying) but i AM easily swayed to add sword content

(im including unarmed content as sword content for the purpose of Emotional Sword Content)

im so incredibly fucking gay over the idea of owning a part of someone’s spiritual swords. like. i gotta get me a girl who will give me a part of her own swords.

again, youya means shoot/sprout and tuzai means slaughter. hence the visions.

ch 15 hey look it’s what we’ve been waiting for!!!

i don’t know i don’t know i really don’t know

nie huaisang would 100% have destroyed wen qing if she told him she didn’t use any cultivation to help nmj

BABIES

i don’t know much about the midwife but i do know they’re about 85 years old, spry as hell, grey as hell, and grumpy as hell. but their hands are always soft and gentle and they tell u exactly what they’re going to do. 

“he was bright red even after being wiped down and his face was more wrinkle than child” im not saying i based this on descriptions of me as an infant but. that is what i’m saying.

“if he’s red then why are they getting jaundice medicine” because i said so

the end of the fic sounds like this

thank u for coming on this journey with me, im a big gay who likes big gays.

this is the longest thing i’ve ever written. i keep saying that but. i straight up dropped out of college because writing things is hard. and while i’ve written a bunch bc i like to come up with stories and the like, i’ve only finished a handful of projects. this is one of them!!! so it’s gonna live in my soft gay heart for a while.