#i plan to continue writing for our favorite farm boy

[ctrl-alt-em]

A Letter Home

Garnet wandered around the tiny town idly. It was early afternoon and the saloon was empty. It would be a couple hours before she could make a few bucks at the cards table.

Turning a corner, she saw the town’s stable, a small affair near the center of town.

Delacy sat on the wooden fence of the corral, facing a grazing Humble Ned.

Garnet headed towards her young friend. In his lap was his newest ‘The Daring Adventures of Bison Billie’ book and a piece of paper.

Delacy frowned at the page.

Garnet back leaned on the fence next to Delacy, facing the opposite direction. “What are you doing, Delacy?”

“I’m trying to write a letter,” the boy answered without looking up.

Garnet looked at the blank paper. “How’s that going?”

Delacy groaned, “It's a lot harder than I thought I’d be.”

“Who’s it to?”

“My family,” he answered, chewing on his pencil. “They’re probably worried.”

Garnet was surprised. Billie Joe would have been her first guess. Maybe the Tombstone Epitaph, the newspaper he read with Edie whenever they got their hands on it, to tell about their latest monster hunt.

Delacy didn’t talk about his home life much, except about the farm itself. He hadn’t mentioned any siblings, aunts, uncles, or cousins so far. He seemed like he liked living on a farm well enough, but he certainly wasn’t in any hurry to get back there.

The only time he’d mentioned his parents was when they thought he might die in a duel. Garnet still had the slip of paper with the location of his family home tucked inside her Hoyle’s book.

From what she could make out, Delacy’s home life was pretty stable for having lived in Bloody Kansas. She had guessed his hesitation to talk about his family stemmed from his guilt from leaving and left it alone.

Perhaps the guilt of running away had finally gotten to him.

“You know what they’d like the most?” Garnet asked.

“What?”

“To see you in person.”

Delacy looked away and scraped his boot on the wooden railing. He shrugged. “I don’t know about that.”

“Why not?” She shrugged. “We’ll pass right through Vincent on our way to Dodge City. We can stop there for a few days, say hi to your family, get some leads and gossip on Dodge, convince your parents we haven’t kidnapped you, that kind of thing.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Miss Garnet.”

She tilted her head at him, “Why’s that, Delacy?”

“I don’t really get along with my parents,” he admitted. Before Garnet could ask the first question that came to mind, Delacy continued, “They took good care of me and my pa is the one who taught me how to shoot a gun when I was real little and all that, but I think my leaving would’ve been more of a relief for them than anything. I wasn’t the favorite child, I know that for sure.”

Garnet’s face fell. She turned to face the same direction as him and moved closer.

“You don’t think your parents love you?” she asked, gently.

Delacy curled into himself more. Minutes ticked by.

“No, I- I know they love me,” he whispered, “It’s… I just wished they liked me.” He wiped his nose on his hand.

“Oh, Delacy…” She brushed his golden blond hair behind his ear.

Garnet didn’t know what to say. She had been very close to her father as a child. It was only the two of them as far back as she could remember. He’d read Hoyle’s Book of Games to her on his knee and he taught her how to shuffle cards as soon as her hands were big enough. He’d taught her about demons, manitous, and magic after he closed the store at the end of the day. The day he died was the worst day of her life. If she had run away one day on a whim, he would have been devastated.

She settled for leaning her shoulder against his in a way she hoped was comforting for him.

“Did you tell your parents anything you left?”

Delacy hesitated. “No, not really. I didn’t plan on leaving when I did.”

Garnet frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I went to town with my sister, Lucy. She’s married to the doctor’s son. I saw the ad that Victoria put in the paper and I figured it was something I could handle. I showed it to Lucy, then she gave me $15 dollars and took me to the train station.”

“Your sister sent you off on a bounty hunting job?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. Delacy nodded.

“Are you and your sister close?”

Delacy grinned a little. “Yeah, Lucy’s the best.”

Someone sending her beloved kid brother off to shoot people didn’t quite sound right to Garnet, but, then again, she also took the same kid to shoot people.

“Well, why don’t you write the letter to Lucy and ask her to tell your folks you're doing all right? Surely she would have told your parents what happened, right?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right. I like that idea better. Thanks, Miss Garnet.”

She patted his shoulder. “It’s what I’m here for.”

Garnet climbed up on the fence next to Delacy and pulled out her Hoyle’s book. She flipped through the yellowing pages of the book her father once owned. She smiled at the old memories as Delacy scratched away at the paper next to her.

When he was finally finished, Delacy held the letter up critically before deciding it was good enough. He hopped off the fence. “I’m gonna head to the post office.”

“I’ll head with you.” Garnet slid off the fence and ducked between the railing back out of the corral. “Then why don’t we head back to the saloon? I’ll teach you the proper way to shuffle a deck of cards.”

Delacy grinned mischievously. “Does this mean you’re gonna let me play cards with you later?”

“No, I know for a fact Edie and Silas wouldn’t be happy if I let you gamble at cards,” she answered, knocking his hat over his eyes. “‘Sides, I think you’ll have much better luck with darts.”

[anakin-danvers]

the most beautiful blue

Luke Skywalker x fem!reader

Request: “Hello bb 😌🥰 I would like to request the prompts “why do you always think you have to do everything on your own?” and “I’ll walk you home.” with Luke Skywalker (baby Luke 🥺) please and thank you. Congrats on 100 followers! You really deserve it! 😘🤩” as requested by @acnini

Description: You’re used to doing things yourself, not liking to wait for others to help. It’s your way of dealing with the different feelings within you. But your feelings are soon put on full display before a certain Tatooine farm boy.  

Word Count: ~3.2k

Warnings: mentions of mom being sick, mention of father passing away, some angst, tiiiiiiiny bit of my attempt at some spicyness 🌶, lots of fluff. 

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write for Luke for so long so thank you Aileen for requesting for our baby Luke! Like you said, I love one (1) farm boy. I really like how it turned out, so I hope you all enjoy! I’m working on the other requests that have been sent in for my 100 follower celebration, so keep an eye out for those! Also, Aileen I’m happy I posted this today because you got your full time offer today!! Woo!! 🥳

P.S. Y/L/N means your last name :)

Tags: @acnini, @cherieboba, @obirain​, @thespareoom, @lazzwhile, @valkyriesandbrokenhalos, @royalhandmaidens

——

The first thing that greets you every morning is the same: heat. Unending, dry heat that you’re sure is the result of the twin suns that decorate Tatooine’s sky. This morning, it’s not different, the heat hitting you in a wave as you become aware of your surroundings. The second constant of every morning for you is the cough. Similar to the heat, it is dry and unending, violently shaking the body of it’s victim. And it’s the sole perpetrator of your final and heaviest constant of every morning: worry.  

Worry settles in you every morning, the frequency of it not making it any less heavy on your mind. Your mother is the sole family you have, and she’s sick, her health not improving as the days pass. Part of you wonders if it’s the rough conditions of Tatooine that prevent her recovery. 

Getting up from your bed, you walk over to your mom’s room. She’s sitting up on her bed, hand over her mouth and she coughs once, twice, three times. Her eyes meet yours as you enter, and she tries her best to give you a comforting smile. 

“Good morning, love,” she greets. 

“Good morning, mom. How are you feeling?” You’re next to her at this point, your hand extended to help her get up. 

“Ah, well same as always. Not better, but not worse, thank the stars.”

That‘s the thing about your mom, she always looks at the bright side. It helps you in a way, but never works to fully take away your worry. 

“Here, let me help you to the kitchen so we can eat some breakfast,” you say. She takes a hold of your hand to get up, then let’s go. 

“I’m okay to walk, Y/N. Like I said, I’m not feeling worse today.” She smiles at you to get her point across, and you nod at her before walking to the kitchen. 

Once there, you grab some haroun bread, hubba gourd preserves, and blue milk. You set them all on the table, along with two plates and two cups. Right as you take your seat, your mom walks into the kitchen, taking a seat on the chair across from you. 

“Thank you, love.”

“Of course.”

The two of you dig into your respective breakfasts. You notice the hubba gourd preserves are running low, and make a mental note to make some more. 

“One of the vaporators seems to be acting up,” she says. “I’ll check it out and see if I have to fix it after breakfast.”

Quickly, you shake your head. “That’s alright, I can handle it.”

“Y/N...”

You interrupt her before she has a chance to protest. 

“Mom, it’s fine. I’m headed to the market today anyways. It’d be good to check on the vaporators beforehand to know if I need any supplies to fix them.”

Your mom sighs, shaking her head lightly. She knows you’ve made up your mind on the matter. “Well, let me at least ask Beru to have Luke help you with the vaporators. I was hoping to visit her since she promised me some of her blue milk cheese last time I saw her.”

You shake your head again, this time not as quickly.

“I’m alright. I don’t need Luke to help me. Really, I can handle it.”

Another sigh escapes her lips before a small smile appears. She reaches over to place a hand on your cheek. The once soft hand is now rough, calloused due to years of work. 

“My sweet, sweet girl. What would I do without you?”

You just smile at her back, some heat brushing your face at her words. 

“That’s what I’m here for, mom.”

Your mother has been sick for some time now. Like she says, it doesn’t technically get worse, but you’re sure something this long term doesn’t help anybody’s health. For as long as you can remember, it’s always been just your mom and you, your father having passed when you were young. She’s taken care of you all your life, nursing you back to health whenever you’ve fallen ill. Now it’s your turn to help her. 

Once breakfast is done, you kiss your mom’s cheek before heading to check in the vaporators. She lets you know she is going to visit the Lars family, but should be back for dinner. 

You step out into the scorching heat, eyes instantly squinting to adjust to the brightness. Tools in hand, you walk over to the vaporator that is giving trouble. Once you reach it, you begin to inspect it, quickly determining one of the condensers is busted. Should be an easy replacement, but you need to buy some at the market. 

Cleaning your hands on a rag, you walk over to your home again to drop off the tools and grab some bags to carry what you plan to buy at the market. You notice your mom is no longer there, having already gone to visit the Lars. 

You start the short walk over to the market, almost reaching it when you hear someone running behind you and your name being called. You turn to find who the owner of the voice is, and find Luke slowing down as he catches up to you, you smile. 

“Hi Luke,” you say as he reaches you. And though he had been the one who had been running, you know he’s not as breathless as you are at the moment. 

He takes a few breaths before speaking. “Hey,” he says and takes another breath. “I went to look for you at your house but hadn’t caught you in time.”

“I need to buy a new condenser for one of the vaporators, as well as some other things from the market.”

“Your mom told me,” he says. The two of you begin your walk to the market, sound of conversation and the smell of different food indicating it’s near. 

“Did she also tell you to help me with the vaporators?” You look at him as you ask your question, your eyebrow rising slightly. 

His face gives it all away. “I—no she didn’t.”

“Luke...”

“Okay,” he says, raising his hands slightly. “She did ask me to help you out, but in my defense I already planned on visiting you today.”

Luke and you have been friends since childhood. The Lars family are your neighbors, your mom and Beru having always been friendly with each other. With Luke and you being around the same age, it was easy for you to gravitate towards one another. You two are inseparable, and really, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Well, you know I’m never opposed to seeing you, Luke, but I can fix the vaporator on my own.”

Once you reach the market you walk straight to the shop that you know will have condensers. Luke is next to you the whole time, not leaving your side. 

“I know you can, but I also know you probably have like 10 other things to do today. Let me help you with that one thing.”

After picking up a condenser, you look over at Luke. He’s staring at you, his blue eyes searching your face as he waits for your response. You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze it lightly. 

“Trust me, 11 things isn’t that much different than 10. I can do it.”

Luke throws his head back and gives a dramatic sigh. You laugh as you make your way to purchase the part, Luke’s response being exactly what you expected.

“It won’t hurt you to have some help every once in a while, you know?” Luke is behind you as you pay. 

“I know.”

You both leave the shop and walk towards the main line of food stands. You go around to different stands, with you buying the different food and supplies that are running low back home, while Luke is next to you talking about what he’s been up to since the last time he’d seen you. 

You’re back home now, hands deep in the vaporator, Luke sitting on the ground next to you. He helped you carry the condenser and some other things back and had almost started fixing the vaporator. You protested before he got his hands on it, reminding him that his original plan was to visit you, making him your guest, and guests don’t fix vaporators. 

You raise your arm to wipe some sweat off your brow. Setting the tools down, you turn to grab the water canteen that you had brought, finding Luke already holding it out. Thanking him, you take the canteen, bringing the opening to your lips and greedily drinking the cool liquid, some of it dripping down your chin. As you drink, you can feel Luke’s eyes on you, making you suddenly need more water. 

Taking a last gulp, you close the canteen and hand it back to Luke. He keeps his eyes on you, even as he grabs it and takes a drink himself. Now it’s your turn to stare. The way his lips connect with the opening, the way his neck moves as he drinks, the way he looks under the sun, the —

“Do I have something on my face, Y/L/N?”

At his words, you blink a few times. Before you get flustered under his gaze, you huff, deciding to put on a playful front instead of letting him know you were admiring him. 

“I should be asking you that, Skywalker. You’re the one that was staring first. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I have a doop bug on my face.”

Luke laughs, a genuine, full laugh that sounds like music to your ears. And with that, your playful front vanishes, replaced by the flustered state that only Luke can cause. In order to avoid having him see you this way, you turn your attention back to finish off the vaporator. 

You finish right before nightfall, the simple task taking longer than planned thanks to Luke, your favorite distraction. When you’re putting away the tools you used, Luke is standing behind you, talking to you about some new parts he got to tinker around with his family’s vaporators. 

“If you like, you can come over and I can show them to you. You might still find your mom there.”

You nod at his offer, practically jumping at the opportunity to spend more time with him. “Yeah, that’d be great. I might have to steal some of your ideas for the vaporators.”

So you walk with him to his home, bumping into your mom just about halfway. She has some of Beru’s blue milk cheese, and you let her know you’ll be home soon. When you arrive to the Lars homestead, you greet Owen and Beru, and Luke leads you to his room. 

He goes directly to where he has some of his new parts on a table on the corner of his room. Luke is fiddling around with some of the parts, but your eyes land on two little figurines made of wood from japor trees that are on the corner of the table. You pick them up, and upon further inspection you recognize them. You give way to a small gasp, and Luke turns to look at you. 

“What’s wrong? Oh...” His eyes land on the figurines in your hand, one of a girl and the other of a boy. 

“Are these...are these the ones I made you when we were kids?” Your fingers trace the edges of the rather crude wood carvings, a smile finding its way to your face. “I made these when I was like 10.”

“Yeah, I—I’ve had them since.”

“Why? I mean, they’re not really that good,” you say, laughing at the disproportionate legs and arms. 

“Because you made them. For me. How could I not keep them?”

You raise your eyes to look at him, finding he’s looking down at the wood carvings. You take the moment to appreciate how close he is to you. At this proximity, you freely look at his blonde hair, his lashes, his dimpled chin. He’s the epitome of your favorite dreams, and you’d love nothing more than to let him know that. 

“I really appreciate you keeping them, Luke.”

He looks up to meet your eyes, a warm smile on his face. Thanking the proximity once again, you have a better view of his smile, the smile that gives you goosebumps on even the hottest Tatooine days. 

“Here, let me show you the parts.”

After Luke gushes to you about his plans to modify the vaporators to work more efficiently, he asks you if you’d like to go outside and take advantage of the cooler air. Now, the two of you are sitting under the moons’ light, the absence of the twin suns allowing a small relief of the usual heat. 

“So, will you let me modify your vaporators if my technique works?” Luke asks, hope evident in his voice. 

“You can teach me how to modify one. I can take care of the rest. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your other duties.”

“You wouldn’t be keeping me from anything, Y/N. You know I love helping you.”

You nod. “I know, Luke. But really, I can do the rest on my own.”

Luke is silent for a second. The seconds soon turn to a few minutes, and you would be okay with it if it weren’t for the unreadable expression on his face. You’re about to break the silence when he beats you to it.  

“Why do you always think you have to do everything on your own?”

There it is, there’s the question you know he’s been wanting to ask, but hoped he wouldn’t.  A sigh escapes your lips as the emotions you’d been holding back come tumbling down like an avalanche. You feel tears start to well in your eyes, and you look down at your hands to hide them from him. 

“Because, Luke, I know one day I’ll be on my own. You’re destined for so much, I know this and you do too. I know one day you’ll be out in the galaxy fulfilling that great destiny of yours, and you should. But I know I have to stay here to care for my mom, and one day she’ll be too weak to do even the smallest things. And that day it’ll all fall on me, so I need to be prepared for when that day comes.”

You blink back the tears, still looking at your hands, afraid to face Luke. His hand comes to take a soft hold of your chin, lifting it lightly. You still avert your eyes, not wanting to look at him. 

“Y/N, please look at me.”

You finally do look at him, the pleading in his voice snaking its way into your heart and forcing you to meet his eyes. When your eyes lock with his, you feel yourself sink into his gaze. 

“I’m not going to leave you behind. Ever.”

“Luke, you don’t have to always think of me. You have to think about yourself, about your dreams. I’m not letting you stop everything because of me.”

“And I won’t. But I’m not leaving you behind either. You have to understand that. I can’t leave you behind because you’re the one who keeps me going, the one who inspires me to get out of here and search for something better. And I won’t leave you behind because I love you, I’ve loved you since we were children, and I’ll continue loving you until we’re both old and gray.”

You really don’t know what to say. You’ve loved Luke for as long as you can remember, the once childish crush growing into something mature and so real as the years passed. He’d been your first kiss when you two were children, and, unbeknownst to him, your only kiss. So to have him say all this to you leaves you nothing short of wordless. 

“Luke, I...I don’t know what to say.”

His hand moves from your chin to cup your face, his thumb grazing your cheek to wipe away a stray tear. 

“You don’t have to say anything, Y/N. I just need you to know that you can always count on me. Today, tomorrow, always.”

Before second guessing what you’re doing, you lean in to connect your lips with his. His lips instantly respond. At first you kiss him the way you did all those years ago: innocent and sweet. But soon, the years of love reflect themselves on the kiss.

You grab a hold of his face, bringing him closer to you. His hands drop to take a hold of your waist, staying there for a second until you make the move to inch closer to him. At your action, he pulls you closer to him, his fingers digging slightly into your waist. You let out a small moan at the sensation, one that’s mimicked by his own. 

At the sound of Luke’s name, you pull away. 

“Luke! I need your help with something!” It’s Owen who calls him. 

“I’ll be right there!” Luke answers. 

Then he turns to look at you, the biggest smile you’d ever seen adorns his face. You’re smiling as well, your lips tingling. A small laugh escapes you as the two of you continue to stare at each other, not really knowing what to say. 

You lean in to give him a quick kiss on his lips, pulling back before he pulls you in again. And when you look at his eyes again, all you see is pure adoration. 

A passing traveler had once described to you what you had a hard time imagining: the ocean. So much water in one place, you couldn’t fathom. What shocked you the most was his description of the ocean being blue. The most beautiful blue, you remember him saying. You’d hope to see it yourself one day. However, you know that his words couldn’t be true. The most beautiful blue you’d ever and will ever see is the shade of Luke’s eyes. 

“Luke!” Owen calls again. 

“Just a minute! I’m just saying goodbye to Y/N,” Luke says, standing up and extending his hand to help you up. You take it and stand up, dusting your pants of sand. 

“Oh, then take your time!”

You laugh at Owen’s words. Luke jokingly rolls his eyes, a laugh of his own filling your ears. 

“Here, I’ll walk you home.”

“No, Luke, I’m fine. Owen needs you,” you say. 

“You heard what he said. I’m taking my time.”

You laugh again, taking a hold of Luke’s arm. The two of you begin the walk to your home. As the two of you walk under the night sky, the light of the moons lighting your way, your conversation fills the air. The two of you tease and laugh, happiness evident. You arrive in front of your home, where Luke promises to see you first thing in the morning, and your chest fills with such beautiful warmth at the anticipation. 

When Luke kisses you goodnight before jogging his way back home, you know that now every morning, you’ll have a fourth constant, the one that will always outweigh the other three: love.

[farm-witches-fic-recs]

One whole year of farm witches, friends! We are so happy to be able to contribute to the fandom we love and continue to add pages of fics to your Marked For Later lists (we can only assume yours look a lot like ours do these days).

The coven has decided to make some changes for this second year of reading and reccing. We’re going to to be switching our witch-based recommendations to a monthly list that will be published on the first Friday of the month. This will allow us to focus on giving you more of what you request, as well as occasionally offering other fun (and possibly informative) fandom-related content.

We are very thankful for each one of our followers who engage with us by sending asks, reblogging, liking posts, and commenting. We can’t do what we do without you!

In honor of our own first year, this rec list features fics that also include anniversaries. Grab a glass of your favorite celebratory beverage and leave the creators some love!

* * * * * * * * * *

1, 2, 3, 4, tell me that you love me more (sloganeer) This sweet series explores David and Patrick’s anniversaries through traditional gifts. 

Anniversary Cake ( @doublel27) We love the “so married” tag on this delicious fic that says it like it is.

Better Than Anything Else That I’ve Tried (houdini74/@mostlyinthemorning) They’ve been together for one whole month and Patrick wants to celebrate. The trolling is just a bonus.

Bumpkin, framed (@bibliosexual) David and Patrick celebrate a year together after kinda-sorta meeting because of Bumpkin.

Deliver my heart (@5ambreakdown​)  How will David survive Patrick’s absence on their anniversary? With a little help from their friends. 

I love it when you give me things (odofidi) It’s David’s birthday and he just wants a birthday. No anniversary involved. 

I see us in black and white (@blackandwhiteandrose) Patrick leaves an entry in David’s journal for their first anniversary.

It requires a dedication (returntosaturn/@allscissorsallpaper) David plans an anniversary celebration for his in-laws, Stevie’s got a girlfriend, and love is all around.

Lead to where I can’t stop (@yourbuttervoicedbeau) Patrick knows the correct way to acknowledge anything important is with food. 

October 3 (@blackandwhiteandrose) One month into married life, David has a kind of monthiversary moment of his own.

Roommates For Life (@tailor1971) For their 50th wedding anniversary, David and Patrick gather their extended family together and renew their wedding vows. 

Serendipity (@rmd-writes) We love a sweet coincidence almost as much as we love these sentimental boys swapping anniversary gifts.

Some Days are Diamonds (@likerealpeopledo-on-ao3) Mind the tags on this super-duper soft hurt/comfort (heavy on the comfort) fic dealing with chronic pain. David and Patrick navigate this new world together, recreating their honeymoon and finding renewed strength in unlikely places.

Sometimes, Home Is a Person (houdini74/@mostlyinthemorning) It’s been five years since David and Patrick stayed behind. This fic is a celebration of David and Patrick’s life in Schitt’s Creek and it culminates with Patrick giving David the perfect five year anniversary gift. 

Tempting Fate (hudders-and-hiddles/@wild-aloof-rebel) The first three monthiversary gifts.

This creaking in my bones isn't pain, it's applause (fairmanor) On their tenth anniversary, Patrick checks in on his promise to make David happy in Schitt’s Creek.

This Must Be The Place (@likerealpeopledo-on-ao3) Patrick and David celebrate the first year of their partnership in all kinds of ways—culminating in a surprise party that reveals even more of themselves to each other. 

This Will Be Our Year: A Second Epistolary Peek (MeadowHarvest) This epistolary fic is full of laughs and looks into all our faves lives, as well as a Brewer anniversary!

What’s kicking inside of you (@missgeevious)Trolling is our favorite love language and Patrick has a sexy surprise for David on their fourth anniversary. 

You know me so well (@lisamc-21) To celebrate five years of married life, David and Patrick take a trip to Seattle for sightseeing and some sexytimes.

[slasher-male-wife]

I /love/ the Leslie Vernon letter you wrote. It's so perfectly obsessive and creepy! 🥰 I keep going back to reread it like every other day. Can I request a continuation of that? Maybe with him brainstorming different sequels for reader or going on about the next survivor he's targeting to try to lure reader back to the farm...

I've been meaning to write for this boy again. I think this is a great idea I'm super excited to write this. Reader is still gn.

Dear Y/N

Hey it's me again. Still waiting for you to reply to those other letters. I've seen you get them before. And I must say I am digging the new style you've got going. I love the little flare pants thing going on but it might not help if I catch you back at the house. I've been planning on going at it again. You know making a sequel to my first outing with you. I've been on the look out you know. Maybe expand on that new group of friends you got there. Oh or one of your exes maybe. Not the one who went into the Navy. I can’t keep track of that one.

Oh but I really wanna meet up again but in this line of business we have to have a few more encounters before we really can start to hang out outside of that. And I noticed you’ve been not doing the best you know? I see how you spend most of your time in bed. I feel you on that, trying to get stuff done is a struggle sometimes but I need my favorite final person to get their ass up and be a final person. You know how hard it is making sure you’ll be at the farm again next time around? I thought about killing your friends again but I didn’t wanna get you even more pissed so I settled on your ex and his group of friends. Let me tell you I see why you broke up. He is a real piece of shit. 

Also I really dig the playlist you left for me on your porch. I hope you don’t mind but I’m gonna keep the cd because well I makes just great music to get ready to. I also snagged that new bottle of nail polish you got. I don’t think you wanted a sheer brown color in your nails but for me it worked just perfectly to give me that apperance I need. It was nice of you to try and set out some shoes for me but that kinda ruins the look I’m going for. But if you ever want to invite me along to help you shop for what you’ll wear at our next encounter I’d gladly help you with that . 

You know who I feel like sometimes. Michael Myers. He stalks after his victims and final people, I do that too. I mean I can’t help it. You’re absolutly stunning almost all of the time. I say almost all of the time because I don’t like those face masks you do. I get it’s to keep your skin healthy and to make you look even better but it looks weird on you. I know I wear makeup and don’t take the best care of my skin. But hey sometimes when I visit I go and wash my face with your fancy face wash. I know it’s just a drugstore face wash but I usually use this really old soap and river water to keep my face clean. Well I better get back to work. I gotta go mess with your ex and his friends. I’ll stalk you later

Your friend, Leslie 

[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 5)

(chapter 1) (chapter 2) (chapter 3) (chapter 4)

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: nearly 2.5k

warnings: vague description of a wet dream, some sensual implied stuff (??), 

moodboard and inspiration credit to @evnscvll​

In all your life, you’d never had a wet dream.  Not even in high school when so many of your peers were coping with puberty and budding sexuality in similar ways— not even when you’d wanted to have one about David Kapoor, the cutest guy in senior year who didn’t even know you existed but that you were somehow convinced was going to fall madly in love with you one day.  

It never did work out for you two, but you’d finally managed to have a wet dream.  This one, though, was about Sebastian.

In your dream he had cornered you in the kitchen, kissing you deeply before tossing you onto the table and— well, the rest doesn’t bear repeating.  It was all very ‘discount bin romance novel’ wasn’t it?  The exotic, rugged farm boy roughly taking the formerly-prudish businesswoman in the middle of the house, too deep in the throes of passion to care if someone walking by saw them.

You didn’t find it all that sexy by the time you woke up; moreso just humorous.  That’s preposterous, you thought to yourself, nobody’s ever gonna love me like that.

It was something your husband had said to you once.  You couldn’t even remember what the context was anymore, but clearly it had had an impact on you to be repeating it internally now.  Just last week, Mrs. Alberti had gotten on your case for speaking poorly of yourself.  Clearly, the things you said about yourself to others were nothing against what you said about yourself to yourself.

Your papers had only taken a day to dry, but the ink was pretty severely smudged.  Knowing your publisher wouldn’t accept them in a manuscript, you resolved to retyping the most damaged ones— a good mindless task to do while you pondered your next steps plot-wise.  You’d seen Sebastian less for the past week, and it was no accident; you’d been avoiding him because you were trying to nip this in the bud before it got any worse.  Your divorce isn’t final yet, you need to heal.  This is fantasy, not reality.  You barely know each other.  Your divorce isn’t final.  Your divorce.  Isn’t.  Final.

That was the mantra you found yourself repeating as you retyped the waterlogged sheets; so much for the plot-pondering plan, eh?

You heard someone coming up the stairs, and you knew it was him because the steps were coming too quickly to be Mrs. Alberti.  “Come in,” you instructed before he’d even knocked.  

“Bună ziua,” he greeted as he opened the door, leaning inside.  “Am pregătit cina, ai vrea să mănânci?”

“Hm?” you asked as you turned around in your chair, adjusting your reading glasses.  However, his question became more obvious through context when you saw he had oven mitts and an apron on, and was holding a wooden spoon.  “Oh, um, I’ll be down for dinner in a minute.  Soon.”  You held up a few fingers, hoping he would successfully interpret them into minutes.

“Arăți bine în ochelarii aceia,” he motioned, pointing towards you.

“I’m sorry… what?” you asked, not sure at all what he could be talking about.

“Ochelari. Sunt drăguți,” he re-emphasized, but it was useless as you gave him another confused look.  He sighed, straightening up a bit as he began a new method: “Îmi plac,” he said, pointing to himself and then giving a thumbs up, “ochelarii tăi,” he pointed to you, and then made circles with his fingers and brought them up to his eyes.  

You laughed a little, but you were pretty sure you got what he meant.  “You like my glasses?” you clarified, reaching up to wiggle them on your face a bit.

“Da,” he grinned.  “Pari inteligent.”

“Thank you,” you nodded, and he nodded back as he shut the door and his footsteps faded back into the kitchen.

Once a few more pages had been redone, you gave your hair a quick combing before heading down for dinner with Sebastian.  It smelled a little strange by the time you went downstairs, but when you swung open the door to the kitchen, you were instantly hit with a wave of acidic air, forcing you to wince and cough.  Even that didn’t help much, and you forced your eyes shut as they stung.

“Jesus Christ,” you yelped, “the fuck are you cooking?  Tear gas?!”

“Oțetul te irită?” he asked, not sounding as concerned as you would’ve hoped considering your obvious pain.  It was like you could taste it in the air, and it wasn’t until you managed to open your burning eyes again that you realized what it was: vinegar, in a huge jug right next to the pot he was boiling it in.

“You’re boiling vinegar?” you realized incredulously.  “God, Europeans are fucking weird.”

He just looked back at you with bewildered bemusement.

“In America,” you tried to explain, “we don’t eat vinegar.  We clean our floors with it.”  You pointed to the jug and made a motion meant to indicate scrubbing a surface, and he laughed a little.

“Americanii sunt prea sensibili,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand, turning back to the stove to stir his pot of disinfectant which he apparently planned to serve you as a meal.  “Am avut ciorbă de oțet de când eram copil.”

You’d typically considered yourself an adventurous eater— even with vinegar-pickled things, like kim chi which you’d learned to acquire a taste for— but this one put you to the test.  Considering the smell alone had singed your sinuses, you were nervous what would become of your innocent tastebuds.  But after he served the soup (a dark orange color, so apparently it wasn’t just the boiled vinegar) into a bowl for you and another for himself, you found the taste of it oddly pleasant when you sipped it gently from your hesitant little spoon.

“Vezi, nu e așa de rău,” he smiled gently as he watched you fail to recoil in disgust from the flavor.

“Just like ma used to make, huh?” you chuckled as he ate the soup with incredible speed, even going as far as to lift the bowl to his lips and drink the last few sips that way.

Eating dinner in silence with him was unexpectedly comfortable.  “You wanna know something funny?” you found yourself mumbling aloud.  “I enjoy talking to you more than anyone I ever did back home, and you can’t even understand me.”

His smile softened as he stared back at you, apparently sensing the change in your tone as you spoke.

“See, right there, that’s it: you’re listening to me.  You know it’s useless, you know you won’t be able to tell what I’m talking about, but you’re listening anyways.  Over two billion English speakers on the planet and none of them have listened to me like you do.”

Then you heard yourself, and it was so heart-breaking that you had no choice but to laugh.  It was just a chuckle at first, but then you couldn’t stop it, even when you realized how confused Sebastian would be.  Everything is funnier when you know you shouldn’t laugh, and soon you could barely breathe as tears warmed your eyes from the force of it.

“I’m sorry,” you tried to spit out between your fits of laughter, but it was barely comprehensible anyways.  Sebastian began to laugh with you, if hesitantly and with a hint of confusion.

“De ce râdem?” he asked gently.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, calming down a bit, “I’m sorry I just… I was just imagining what my husband would say, if he knew I was here…” you trailed off as you laughed again, starting over.  “If he knew I was here, falling for someone I’ve never even spoken with.”  You shook your head, resting your face in your hands as you chuckled lightly.  “Oh, he’d hate this.  He’d tell me I was out of my mind.”

With a slow sigh, your laughter subsided as you wiped the wetness from your eyes.  

“He’d be right, but… I don’t really care,” you decided.  “He’s not here.  If he wanted to find me, he would.  And maybe it’s because he’d hate this that I’m having so much goddamn fun doing it.”

When you looked at Sebastian again, his face was serious, yet anything but stern.  Suddenly, you weren’t thinking about your husband anymore.  Of course you logically understood how odd this all was, how impossible it was for you to be slowly finding yourself in love with someone like him, but it felt right, and true, and real.  It made no sense, and yet it made perfect sense in every way that mattered.  

“I’ll help you clean,” you offered as you stood up, realizing you’d gotten lost in your train of thought and probably stared at him for a bit too long.  He stood up with you, helping you gather the used dishes and letting you wash them in the sink while he put the remaining soup in the refrigerator as leftovers for another time.  “I’ll cook for you tomorrow,” you promised, “something real bland, like the English cook.”

“Sper că nu intenționați să gătiți pentru mine cândva, nu suport mâncarea occidentală,” he mumbled as he continued to wipe down the countertop with a damp towel.

With the kitchen clean, you knew you should get back to writing your book, but you were compelled instead to read somebody else’s— so, as you slipped onto the couch with one of a few of your favorites that you’d brought with you, Sebastian summoned the same copy of Dracula you’d seen him reading a few times and took the loveseat.  Not much else happened after that, save for you shivering from a draft and him tossing a throw blanket on you.  

“Ce carte citești?” he asked you eventually, breaking the silence.  When you looked up, he was pointing at your book.  “Book?”

“Right,” you laughed, “I taught you that.  My book, uh, it’s good.”  You closed it, leaving your finger inside to mark your place as you showed him the front cover.  “On the Road?  Ever heard of it?”

He just cocked his head to the side.

“Jack Kerouac?” you continued.  “It’s about going on a long journey in search of… freedom.”

“Acesta este cel despre zombi?” he asked.

“Sure,” you nodded, wishing more than ever that you could know what he was saying.  He smiled and got back to his own reading.  Indulging yourself for a moment, you watched his face as it fell into a neutral expression while he read, his eyes trailing along the page as he continued to read.  You didn’t realize it, but when you returned to reading your own book, he got his chance to look at you.

A long day of writing meant you had more than earned an evening to relax by the fire; late summer became early fall, and early fall turned into the need for a fireplace so much faster than you’d anticipated.  The days were temperate, sure, but as the sun began to sink lower, so did the warmth.  You started your evening with a hot shower, though you didn’t let yourself get too greedy with the limited supply of hot water, knowing Sebastian relied on the same supply for his own baths.  When you finished, you dressed yourself in a fluffy lavender robe, feeling especially pampered when you put on a little moisturizer before heading downstairs to cozy up with the fire.  You were already getting chilly, the heat from the shower fading as your wet hair and bare feet cooled you quickly.  Therefore, it was more of a scurry to the fireplace, which you hadn’t expected Sebastian to be tending or you wouldn’t have come down in a robe.  He’d seen you in less (namely, his shirt and nothing else, which was horrifically embarrassing) but something about this felt more intimate, like all your defenses had been washed away in the shower, too.  Didn’t help that he was shirtless, again.  Wasn’t he cold in this weather?!  Must be all that muscle keeping him warm.

“Bună seara,” he greeted.

“Good evening,” you returned.  Stepping closer, you rubbed your hands together as you felt the hot air radiate towards you.  “It’s nice,” you sighed contentedly.

He smiled back at you, moving the logs slightly with the iron poker.  Sparks jumped and fell off as he shifted them, joining the ashes below— you’d always thought fire was so beautiful, even if it was dangerous, and you took in a long breath through your nose to smell the tinge of smokiness in the air.

“Te încălzești?” he asked quietly as he set the poker aside and stood beside you.  You wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing through the fabric of the robe to try to warm up a little faster.  Seeing you shiver, he reached out and rubbed your arms for you, which made you tense up slightly before relaxing and breathing out.  “Mai bine?”

You nodded a little, your gaze drifting slightly.  

“Warm?” he asked, making your eyes jump back up to his.  You swallowed dryly as he looked back at you.

“Warm,” you repeated, “yeah.  Good job… when’d you learn that?”

He didn’t answer, watching your hands as they reached out for his arms, finally making delicate contact with his tanned skin before drifting up to his biceps, his shoulders, and finally his chest.  He put his own hands on top of yours and held them there, looking back at you as your heart started to beat rapidly and with no signs of slowing down.  “Warm,” he repeated, only slightly above a whisper.

“Oh yeah,” you agreed hoarsely, “very, very warm…”

He smiled a little; it wasn’t mischievous, it wasn’t conniving or predatory or malicious.  It was subtle but gentle in a way you had absolutely no plan to save yourself from, no protection, no armor, no neutral territory.  There was only heat, so strong that your toes weren’t cold anymore and you didn’t even remember that your hair was still damp.  Not only did you let his heat consume you, but you didn’t even think to stop it, to swallow your desire down, to run away and say goodnight and hide in bed from the icky scary feelings.  No, you looked right back at him and let those eyes pierce right through you, that cold blue changed entirely with the warm firelight reflecting in them.  

“Do you want to come to my room?” you asked slowly.  The words were useless, but a glance back to the stairs that led to your door and back at him asked the same question with much more efficacy.  

He nodded, and you stepped backwards as he followed you: across the house, up the stairs, and to your room.  You opened the door.  He shut it behind you. 

[rolandtowen]

Prince Zuko was a harsh, entitled boy.

Firelord Zuko is a ruler who makes amends. - a study in the various side characters that Zuko came across in his banishment, and how he repays his past actions.

Read Chapter One on ao3 or under the cut! TW for referenced non-con and colonialism

[I believe @flamehotman and @flameomcfirey wanted to be tagged?]

Chapter One: Song

We will get there when we get there, don't you worry Feel bad about the things we do along the way But not really that bad We inhaled the frozen air Lord, send me a mechanic if I'm not beyond repair

- The Mountain Goats

It happened on a Tuesday afternoon.

Zuko was meeting with the agricultural council, a collection of both scholars and farmers, to discuss best practices for renewing the Fire Nations agricultural trade. For so many decades, the Fire Nation out-sourced its agriculture to land in the colonies and imported much of its food. But with the land being given back, the Fire Nation was either going to have to begin growing its own food again, or import their food at a fair price. The economic committee decided on Monday that reviving the Fire Nation farms would be far more cost effective - and of course, would create more jobs in the Fire Nation. With the war over, the number of soldiers that the military required had dropped dramatically, and there were many citizens without work. Zuko had instated severance benefits for unemployed soldiers - the ones not found guilty of war crimes of course, mostly the young recruits - but it couldn't last forever.

It was maddening. Every time Zuko unraveled one problem, he undoubtedly found or created another one. He was trying, really trying, to keep his people safe. But he also had a duty to the rest of the world. The nations that his lineage colonized, pillaged, and destroyed. He resists the urge to write to Aang, to ask him how he does it, how he balances all of the nations in every action he takes. But Aang is busy, all of his friends are, spread thin to the four corners of the world.

Uncle visits him occasionally, when the letters from staff concerned about Zuko's health pile up on his desk. One too many servants have found him, asleep at his desk, face down in treaty papers. But Uncle has his hands full. He already splits his time enough between the Jasmine Dragon and Ember Island, looking after Azula.

Azula.

She was improving, and that's really all Zuko can ask for. He sees her a couple of times a month, pours her a cup of tea, and they sit on the balcony of their vacation-house-turned-mental-retreat. Most of the time, they don't talk. Zuko won't push her; he remembers his silence in his first few months of being banished, how Uncle had to coax him to say anything at meals. Sometimes the only words he uttered in a day were in prayer before meditation. Zuko had thought to himself, speaking out got me into this mess: I'll never speak again.

He's not sure what words were exchanged between Azula and Ozai before he left her and went to burn down the Earth Kingdom, but he can guess it wasn't good. Few of his father's words were.

So they sit and drink their tea. Sometimes, on a good day, Zuko will fix up Azula's hair for her, and she'll reveal some bits of information that he files away for future examination. Something like, I saw Mom before you came with Master Katara. Or she'll double check her reality, asking, you let Ty Lee and Mai out of jail, right? and Zuko will say yes, her friends are safe, they should be visiting any day now.

As painful as seeing her may be, spending time with Azula is far preferable to sitting through an agricultural council meeting.

He looks down at the paper in front of him, a comprehensive budget list for all of the supplies needed to revitalize the Fire Nation's agricultural sphere. Dozens of machines that he's sure Sokka had a hand in inventing, hundreds of varieties of seeds that Omashu is generously selling to them, and -

Thousands of ostrich-horses.

"Councilor Yichen, can you elaborate on the number of animals in this budget? Certainly with the machines we'll provide, farmers will not need so many working livestock."

Councilor Yichen stands, giving a little bow in Zuko's direction. "Of course, Lord Zuko. While the machines will certainly boost productivity, we only have enough for one per farming village at this point. Each family needs at least one working animal, if not to plow the fields, then to transport goods. We decided on ostrich-horses on a recommendation from farmers in the Earth Kingdom colonies, who found them to be invaluable. An ostrich-horse is, in many ways, more valuable than a machine."

Zuko's stomach settles uncomfortably, but he isn't entirely sure why. "Thank you, Councilor. I understand now."

Yichen gives another little bow before he sits, and the rest of the meeting goes as planned, with the exception of a strange seed of unknown guilt now growing in Zuko's stomach.

"Uncle, do you remember when you made tea out of that poisonous plant?"

Uncle laughs, hands faltering as he pours Zuko a cup of jasmine tea. "I remember, Nephew. How could I ever forget?"

"Do you remember the girl who helped you?"

Uncle takes a sip of the warm tea. "Song. Her mother made the best roast duck." He looks at Zuko out of the corner of his eyes. "Why do you ask?"

Zuko looks out over the gardens. He's able to see the whole palace grounds from where they're seated on the second-floor balcony, watching the sun rise. As far as the eye can see, Zuko is upheld as a flawless ruler, his word taken as law. He's sick of it.

"I stole her ostrich-horse," he murmurs into his tea, taking a sip to calm his nerves. "I just remembered, in that agricultural meeting a few days ago. I - I never knew how essential those were to farmers, I just thought I was taking their ride." He turns to fully face his Uncle. "But I think I took a lot more than that."

Uncle meets his eyes with understanding. "And now you want to give it back."

"I know there's no way for me to fully apologize for how I acted in exile, but it feels like I have to try." The cup quivers a bit in his hands, and so his hands drop to his lap. "I'll need someone to watching over the Nation while I'm gone."

Uncle places one of his warm hands over Zuko's shaking ones. "I'm sure I can deal with your advisors for a few days." He squeezes his hand just slightly around Zuko's. "I'm proud to see that even in a few short months, your wisdom as a ruler is growing. Go, make your amends. The Nation will be here when you return." Uncle calls for Zuko's secretary and tells her to clear as much of the Firelord's schedule as she can for the next week. Their voices fade into the background as Zuko stares into his tea, wracking his brain to try and figure out how to track down just one girl in the entire Earth Kingdom. Sending scouts or soldiers from town to town is a recipe for disaster, and the Earth Kingdom villages have been traumatized enough. He supposes he could always call in a ride on his favorite air bison but - this feels like something he should do on his own.

If Song hates him, it might be hard for her to show it in front of the Avatar.

So he'll go alone. No friends, no royal guard. He'll come into Song's town the same way he came last time - defenseless. She can hate him if she wants, he'll give her that.

And he'll try to give back what he took from her.

He packs light, pulling an old tunic and boots from the back of his wardrobe. Though they've been thoroughly cleaned by the palace staff, the scent of campfires and smoke linger upon them. He grabs a cloak - the Earth Kingdom will be starting to chill at this time of year - and he slips out of the palace, using the servant's entrance to get onto the streets unseen.

Autumn comes quietly in the Earth Kingdom. The trees slowly lose their color, giving the last of their strength into vibrant leaves. Soldiers previously conscripted to fight in the war have either returned to their families or have gone to tend to the scorched earth where the Phoenix King made landfall. They clear the debris of fallen airships, making room for the earth to slowly restore herself.

Song envies those soldiers.

Their lives have changed with the ending of the war, but Song's life continues on, its mundane routine continuing over and over again. She cares for a small garden, crafts herbal remedies for her neighbors, and tries to make her mother comfortable. She curses the Spirits for their cruel sense of humor - her mother survives the greatest war ever seen, lives through the attempted invasion of her homeland, only to be struck down by frailty months after the end of it all. Hasn't she suffered enough? Song has whispered those words to the woods on her way to the well time and time again. Now, her body is just - stopping.

Her mother is dying and there's nothing she can do.

Song knows all living things have their time. And she's seen too many living beings go before their rightful time. But she never imagined her mother's time would be in a time of peace. Wasn't ending the war supposed to stop all this pain? Apparently not. She tries not to become bitter, knows that that's the last thing her mother would want for her, but - it hurts. And there's not a damn thing she can do about it.

The leaves from dying trees crackle under her feet.

She arrives at the well, alone. Her hometown is just barely beginning to wake up, rising from its slumber as mothers bring in dry clothes from the clotheslines and fathers begin to toil in the fields. Children run freely from street to street, with a joy that was forbidden during the Fire Nation's occupation. They're kicking at a ball, passing it from one pair of bare feet to another, and Song smiles at them. Someday, maybe.

She sets her water jug on the stone wall of the well and begins to lower the bucket before hearing the ball make impact and a man's voice grunt, "oof!". She spins rapidly around to see a young man, rear planted firmly in the dirt, one hand rubbing at his forehead while the other wipes at a watering eye. The group of children stand, frozen, and she gives them a look, and unspoken command to stay and apologize to the man they just hit with their ball.

"Here, take my hand," Song holds out her right hand, and the man takes it. When the young man meets her eyes, she almost drops him back in the dirt. He has those amber eyes, and she can just see under his loose hair - a burn scar. "Lee?!"

He stands, brushing dust from his cloak, and she catches the hints of red fabric that lie beneath. She recoils. He sighs. "Um, about that." Song sees his hands tremble against his cloak. "My name's not Lee - and I'm from the Fire Nation."

Song reacts as if she'd been slapped. She trips backwards, away from Not Lee, landing hard against the stone of the well. Her leg is aching, feels like its on fire all over again, looking into those amber eyes.

"How could you? I let you into my home." She braces her hands against the well, her leg threatening to give out at any moment. "Now it all makes sense, that you stole from me. That's all you ashmakers are good for." She spits, and it lands on his scarred cheek. "You take land that isn't yours, take women that aren't yours, you take lives!" Her leg finally collapses, and she sinks to the ground with her back against the well. Not Lee makes a move, and she throws her hands up. "Don't you touch me," she grits out, clutching at her leg. He stills, and she wraps her arms around herself, bringing her knees to her chest. "I pitied you, you know? I thought your mother must've been - I looked at your eyes and thought you were a victim like me, like my mother." Her whole body is trembling, but she doesn't care. "But I bet you know who your father is, I bet you're proud to have his eyes."

Not Lee mirrors her, curling in on himself, not even bothering to wipe his face clean. "I do know who my father is, but I'm not proud of him." He looks up to meet her eyes, and Song is struck by how young he looks. When she'd last seen him, he'd looked gaunt, malnourished, with sharp cheekbones. Now, his face had filled out and he looks - young? The scar makes him look older as well, but when you look on the opposite side of his face - all she can see is a kid, couldn't be older than a teenager.

And he was crying.

Stubborn as he is, Not Lee is resolutely ignoring the tears slowly falling from his eyes, but nevertheless - they fell. Song didn't expect that reaction. Tears are not what she expected from a Fire National. Anger, rage, violence - those are the things she's tasted at the hands of firebenders, but this? This is new.

"I'm sorry," Not Lee whispers, looking at his feet. "I came to apologize, I wanted to repay you for your kindness and return what I took. But I think I've overstayed my welcome." He scrubs at his face roughly with the heel of one hand. "But I am, truly sorry. I acted selfishly the last time I was in your home, and I took advantage of your compassion. And I understand that my nation has done even worse. I'm trying to make it better." He pulls his hair back with a band. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but I would like to purchase you a new ostrich-horse. And anything else you or your mother may require."

Without warning, Not Lee shifts from his seat position to a bowing one, kneeling with his head pressed to the dry earth. Song stares at him for a small eternity, before realizing that he's waiting, unmoving, for her response. For her judgement.

She lets out a small breath. "Okay," his eyes flick up to hers and her stomach twists. The way he bows is so precise - it must have been drilled into him hundreds of times before. Another thing she wouldn't have expected from a firebender. "Come to dinner."

He stands after she does and gives another slight bow. As they begin the walk back to Song's home, he offers to carry her water jug, and Song feels more weight than one lifted from her.

"What did you say your name was again, young man?" Mei pokes at Zuko's shoulder as she hobbles to the table.

"Mom, I'm sorry about her, she's getting older," Song sets a bowl of fragrant roast duck in front of him and Zuko feels his mouth begin to water.

"No, it's okay, I don't think I've actually properly introduced myself." He takes a quick sip of tea - bracing himself for whatever will happen next - and calmly sets the mug back down. "My name is Zuko," he begins slowly. "AndI'mkindoftheFirelord."

There's the sound of Song dropping a bowl in the kitchen, and Mei leans in a bit closer to Zuko.

"Sorry, dear, could you say that again? My ears aren't what they used to be."

Zuko opens his mouth to respond, but Song slowly enters the room, her eyes narrowed in on Zuko. "You said - you're the firelord?" He nods at her, waiting for her to swing a knife at him, kick him out of their home, call some earthbenders to rough him up -

Before his panic can start to set in, Song runs out the front door, slamming it behind her.

Zuko looks helplessly at Mei.

"Give her a moment." Mei brings her pair of chopsticks to her mouth. "Hmm, she still doesn't make it as well as I used to."

"What about you? Do you hate me?"

Mei sighs, putting her bowl down. "I'm too old for hate, dear. My time in this world is almost over. I can't spend it hating world rulers." She takes a sip of her tea. "But Song? She -" Mei sighs again. "She's been hurt deeply by the Fire Nation, in more ways than one. And it isn't just you. But for a long time, the monarchy has been the embodiment of everything terrible that's ever happened to her. And now you're here, standing in front of her."

Zuko nods. "I understand. And I am sorry, to you as well. I don't think I fully understood the reach of the war. I was always taught that the army acted with honor, that women and children were untouchable." He looks down at his folded hands. "I can see that was false."

"Unfortunately, you are correct." She reaches between them to refill Zuko's cup, then Song's, and hands them both to him. "Go to her. A bit of tea should help bring you some good favor."

The screen door opens and closes, and Zuko finds himself out on the porch. Song sits on the edge, absently massaging her leg, peering into the darkness of the forest.

"Can I join you?"

She shrugs, and he takes that as a yes. Handing over her tea, Zuko sits besides her and tries to find what she sees in the darkness.

For a few minutes, the only sounds are those of them drinking and crickets chirping. Then Song speaks.

"His name was Bao."

Treasured. Precious. Rare.

"That's a lovely name."

"What happened to him?" Song turns abruptly to look at him with shining eyes. "Did he...?"

Zuko shakes his head emphatically. "My Uncle and I traded him to a florist for safe passage to Ba Sing Se. The florist seemed like a good man."

"You went to Ba Sing Se?"

Zuko runs one hand down the back of his neck. "I might have conquered it, actually?"

Sing snorts. "That part I've heard about. You've lived an interesting life, Zuko."

"If by 'interesting' you mean messy, then yes." He sighs. "You had no reason to trust me. Why did you let me back into your home?"

Song laughs, tinged with bitterness. "My mother says I'm too trusting, too gullible." She swirls the dregs of her tea around the bottom of her cup. "But I think there's strength in being kind. And I really did want to forgive you. But you have to be ready."

"And do you think I am?"

She smiles softly at him. "For me, yes. But my guess is I'm not the only person you hurt in exile." She gulps down her remaining tea. "They may not be as forgiving as I am."

"I'm preparing myself for that possibility."

"Does it scare you?"

Zuko ponders it. "I think it does. The idea that I've hurt someone innocent so badly that they may never be able to move past it... that keeps me up at night."

Songs turns towards him, tucking her knees up to her chest. "We can't control how other people see us in this life. How they react to our actions is up to them - all that we can control is our response. You have to be ready to accept that someone may not be ready to forgive you, and you can't let that eat you up." She stares at him intently. "You have to confident that your own actions are enough. That they're good."

It's Zuko's turn to laugh sourly. "Easier said than done," his hand wanders to his scar. "Sometimes I'm still not sure if what I'm doing is right."

"You don't have to do it alone, you know," Song gives him an understanding look. "You need other people around you, Zuko, to remind you what's good."

He huffs, looking down at his hands, folded in his lap. "Do you want to be one of those people?"

"I think you have more than enough goodness surrounding you already. You just have to be confident enough to ask." She sighs, looking back out into the darkness. "Besides, I have to stay here with my mother. She doesn't have long."

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do? I could send my healers -"

She shakes her head, cutting him off midsentence. "It's her time." She begins to rub at her scars again. "I just didn't know how much it would hurt. We finally have some peace, and suddenly it's her time."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, not for this. It's due to you that she'll be able to die during peacetime." Her hands come to her eyes, wiping tears away before they can spill down her cheeks. "Her biggest fear was that she'd die and leave me alone to fend for myself during the war. You released her from that fear. Of course I forgive you, Zuko. My mother's no longer scared of dying because of you."

The two of them are silent for a long time, watching fireflies flicker off and on in the trees, listening to the crickets sing.

"I'm going to find Bao for you."

Song looks up in surprise. "You don't have to-"

"I want to, I'm sure he's still out there somewhere." Zuko rises from his seat. "If you ever need anything, anything, you write directly to me. I'll tell my staff that you're a priority."

"Are you leaving?" Song stands as well. "You could stay, if you want."

Zuko shakes his head silently. "I have to get back, and travelling by night is best for a Firelord who doesn't want his identity revealed," he smiles, his scarred skin relaxing into it. With that, he pulls his hair out of its topknot, grabs his pack and swords, and starts to disappear into the night.

"Firelord Zuko?" He stops and turns back at the sound of Song's voice. She makes the sign of the flame and bows. "Thank you, for everything." He bows back, lower than protocol dictates, but he doesn't care.

Three weeks pass, and the air has turned bitterly cold.

Song again makes her daily trip to the village well, with snow crunching under her feet instead of dead leaves. The soldiers have returned from their work in restoring fields for the season, and so the village feels alive when she steps into it. Despite the chill, children still run in the street, under the watchful eye of their mothers and fathers. Song feels a twinge of longing, but she tries to focus on the happiness she feels for the children instead. Song sets her water jug on the side of the well, breathing hot air into her palms to warm her hands after touching the freezing stone.

"Excuse me, miss, are you Song?" A voice comes from behind her, and she turns to see two men dressed in red tunics.

"I am," she replies, tucking her hands into the pockets of her hanbok. "And you are?"

They bow to her. "We come on behalf of Firelord Zuko, to deliver a gift." A third man rounds the corner with an ostrich-horse on a tether. "We found him at a desert settlement, he's been well taken care of, but if there's anything you need -"

They're cut off as Song runs to throw her arms around the neck of the ostrich-horse. "Bao!" She strokes his beak, looking into his eyes. "Do you remember me?"

Bao cocks his head to the side, pupils widening as he chirps softly, and then he lets out a loud whinny, pushing his head into Song's chest. He purrs, closing his eyes and relaxes against her.

"Sweet Bao, it's really me, you're really home," Song can feel her eyes dampening, but holds it together as one of the men hands her a bit of parchment.

"A note from the Firelord. He wanted us to remind you that you can write to him anytime you need anything."

Song nods. "And tell him I said 'thank-you' again." Bao whinnies loudly again, and she adds on, "Bao says 'thank-you' too."

"Of course, miss." With a synchronized bow, the men depart, and Song unrolls the parchment.

Song,

I've followed your advice and surrounded myself with good people. It helps.

Give my best to your mother - my Uncle still talks about her roast duck sometimes. I've established a fund specially for women and child victims of the war, inspired by some of what you and Mei shared with me. Write me if you feel like you or anyone in your village wants to apply for it.

And, thank you for trusting and forgiving me. I'll try to keep earning it.

May the Spirits continually bless you,

Zuko

She tucks the parchment into her pocket, fills her jug, and finds herself back in Bao's familiar saddle after more than a year. "Come on, Bao," she says as she takes the lead into her hands, guiding them back to the empty farmhouse.

"Let's go home."

[if you read through this whole thing, go drink some water! I'll know if u don't :) ]

[what-if-i-imagine]

Hey darling, do you think you could do a DamiJon one shot with the sentence starter "Are we on a date right now?" Where Damian is very oblivious to his and Jon's feelings and doesn't understand crushes/love much to Jon's frustration?

Sorry This took so long! It doesn’t exactly match up with the last pat of the prompt, but here you go!

It was a sunny day, as was the usual for the bright and busy city of Metropolis, and Damian swore he was the only one for miles who was not enjoying the lack of cloud cover and gloomy weather. Everyone they passed by on the streets wore blinding smiles and talked with too much enthusiasm for a Monday afternoon. People waved at strangers and stopped for street performers, and in general acted as the Utopian image of city life.

Damian almost found himself missing the dark and very real streets of Gotham. Almost.

Of course,  that didn’t mean he wasn’t enjoying the day so far.

At that particular moment, he was walking down a sidewalk with a certain Kryptonian boy who was laughing far too hard for someone who hadn’t been told a joke.

“The acting was unrealistic, the CGI was terrible and the props and costumes were the work of anmitures,” Damian persisted, still hung up on the awful movie they had gotten out of half an hour before. It had been the newest installment in the Sunrise series, and it was so bad Damian would have been at a loss for words if he were forced to watch just five more minutes.

He had only gone to see it in the first place because Jon had loved the first movie and he, Raven and Todd had all loved the books. If the books were anything like the movie had been, Damian would have to have a serious talk with his friends and brother about their taste in media.

“Stop laughing, I’m serious,” Damian huffed, but despite his annoyance he was fighting a smile of his own.

“It’s good bad,” Jon said through his laughter, wiping tears from his eyes and clutching his side.

“That wasn’t ‘good bad’ it was a disgrace to all of cinema!” Damian scoffed. “I knew you were tasteless, but I had no clue it was this atrocious.”

“You just aren’t getting it because you’re taking it too seriously,” Jon insisted. “If you stop looking at it as an actual romance and look at it from a comedic angle, it’s the best thing ever.”

“The protagonist was bland, her love interests behaviors were unrealistic, and the message of the story is disgusting,” Damian continued to list off the movie’s flaws.

“Damian, stop for one second,” Jon said, finally freed of his laughter. “Remember, we aren’t the intended audience. The intended audience is teenage girls. It wasn’t meant for a message, it was meant for escapism and wish fulfillment for its intended audience. When you keep that in mind, it’s an absolute masterpiece.”

“Tt, whatever you say farm boy,” Damian rolled his eyes. He checked his watch while Jon laughed a little more. “We still have three hours before we have to meet Drake and the Clone.”

“Perfect,” Jon bounced. “That means we have time to stop by the arcade, sweets shop and my favorite cafe!”

“If you insist,” Damian sighed.

“Don’t be like that, I’ve had this day planned for weeks!” Jon whined, tugging on his arm. “I even did extra chores this week so we would have enough money.

“You could have just asked me to bring my wallet,” Damian said.

“Nu-uh, there is no way I’m letting you pay for our first outing together,” Jon shook his head.

“This isn’t our first-” Damian was quickly cut off as Jon pulled him into the arcade, his super speed and strength slipping ever so slightly so that he had to rub his arm and catch his breath afterwards. By the time he regained his balance, Jon had rushed over to the coin machine and was feeding in a twenty he had earned from mowing the lawn and washing the dishes.

When he came back, he took Damian’s hand and dumped about half of the coins into it with a grin. He had been practically glowing ever since they had met up that morning, an effect that Damian could easily write off as being due to the shining sun and not his presence, as Drake had insisted. Even inside the arcade, shaded and away from the sun, the fifteen year old was still shining brighter than any of the neon lights around them.

Damian just shook his head but relented as Jon dragged him around the arcade, showing off his gaming skills and earning tickets. Damian was decent at most of the games, but was too unused to the mode of gaming compared to the consuls he played on with his family to truly be any good. He would never admit that out loud of course. It would go right to Jon’s head he was sure.

Damian had run out of coins and only had a fistful of tickets by the time Jon was down to his last two had had a plastic bag filled.

For his last game, Jon took Damian by the hand and pulled him towards an arm wrestling game that reached to the ceiling with a bell at the top. Damian had seen such a game in a cheesy movie Brown had shown him and the rest of the family. After asking his father more about the game, he was informed that, as many carnival games were, it was completely rigged and impossible to win.

“Those don’t actually work you know,” Damian said, leaning against the machine with an unimpressed raise to his brow. “Even for your strength it won't budge.”

“Want to bet?” Jon asked, his grin growing wider, a far cry from the shy and timid Jon Kent and much closer to the Superboy he knew from their late night escapades.

Damian snorted but gave a single nod. A simple dip of his chin, never breaking eye contact.

“All of the loser’s tickets to the winner?” Jon asked.

“Whatever you say,” Damian agreed.

Jon rolled up his sleeves and, gaze still on Damian, took hold of the fake hand and started the simulated arm wrestling contest.

Damian actually gave a jump when he felt something rush past him inside the machine and hit the bell at the top with an almost deafening ding ding ding!

While he stared wide eyed up at the bell, Jon cheered and collected the tickets spilling out from the machine into his plastic bag. When Damian turned back to him, still slightly in shock, Jon was holding out his hand expectantly with a self satisfied smirk.

“The machine must be broken,” Damian said as he handed them over.

“Whatever you say,” Jon teased. After taking the tickets, he took Damian’s hand again and went up to the prize counter to feed the tickets into a machine to get a receipt. He handed off said recit to a tired looking teenager, only a year or so older than Damian, bouncing on his heels.

“Could I have that bear?” he asked, pointing up to the ceiling. Damian followed his finger’s direction and found a large bear that was at least five feet tall hanging from the ceiling. It had a superman symbol on it’s chest in the shape of a heart, which was more than enough to make Damian roll his eyes. It was very much something the young Kent would waste his tickets on as a gag with his family.

The teenager behind the counter smiled through their clear as day lack of sleep and scanned both the recibt and the little sign that announced the bear’s price. He had to pull over a ladder and get a long hooked pole to unloop the bear from where it was hung up, and struggled with handing it to Jon over the counter.

As soon as the bear was in his arms, though, Jon immediately pushed it to Damian’s chest. He struggled at first, with the bear being as big as himself, but managed to get a good hold on it and look around it to furrow his brows in question.

“I won it for you,” Jon said like it was obvious. “If you need me to carry it it can.”

“I am perfectly fine carrying the monstrosity on my own,” Damian said. “You couldn’t have chosen a more impractical gift?”

“It's not an impractical gift,” Jon said. “It’s cute.”

“Can it not be both?” Damian asked, but relented in following Jon out of the arcade the fastest he could with the monstrous stuffed animal in his arms.

“Sweets shop or cafe next?” Jon said allowed, though it was clear he was asking himself.

“We only have time left for one of the two,” Damian said after checking his watch again.

“Cafe it is then!” Jon said. He guided Damian back down the Metropolis sidewalk, pointing out different stores and vendors along the way as he told stories about them. Damian only heard half of the stories, his sight too focused on Jon’s lit up and expressive face for any of his other senses to properly function.

Halfway through a story about a noodle store he liked to visit with his older brother, Jon noticed Damian’s staring. He ducked his head, his cheeks flaring bright red, and Damian couldn’t help but give the smallest of smiles at the reaction.

The rest of the walk to the cafe, Jon’s voice was back to its usual shy softness as he chatted on about the city he so clearly loved. Damian didn’t stop his staring, but did end up lost in his own thoughts about the past years’ events.

He could still very clearly remember the day when he was thirteen and his father had carefully sat him down in his study for a talk. During that talk, he was told of one of the most disturbing things yet to happen in his life, which was saying something considering his childhood.

Through dimension hopping events that Damian never bothered to understand, Jon had gone from ten years old to seventeen overnight. He was different now that he was so much older, and Damian found a hole grow in his chest from the loss of his closest friend.

The event was possibly the thing that finally cemented his bond with Drake, and they had both lost their kryptonian friends under circumstances completely out of their control. The only problem Damian saw with the bonding they had done was that Drake had gotten Conner back. Not only had he gotten him back, but the two had started dating not too long after his return, which brought Damian an odd sense of jealousy he had never been able to understand.

After a year of consideration between himself and his parents, Jon had gone to Zatanna for help in reversing his physical age. The magician had agreed, but had only been half successful in her daunting task. The next time Damian saw Jon, he was only a year younger than him, still with his ever present height advantage, now coupled with his mental age.

Damian was still ashamed when he remembered his initial reaction of slamming the door in Jon’s face. He had refused to speak to the Kryptonian for months on end, so unsure of how to feel about the entire situation he had found himself in. He had gotten his friends back, but he wasn’t sure if he was still really his friend.

He still wished that his family could have stopped being so damn unconditionally supportive for one moment and knocked some sense into him so he could have accepted Jon’s returned presence in his life earlier than he actually had.

It had been a year since the two had fully reunited, apologies coming from both ends despite Damian’s admit denial that Jon had anything to apologize for. He was big enough to admit he had been the one fully in the wrong even though everyone repeatedly told him his reaction was perfectly reasonable for a fourteen year old presented with such a stressful situation. Even at sixteen, he couldn’t understand Jon’s easy forgiveness of his behavior.

“Dami?” Jon pulled him from his thoughts gently, cheeks faded to a much softer pink, but the blush still clearly present.

“I’m okay,” Damian nodded, ignoring the clear pull in his chest. Jon had been so gentle with him the past year no matter how much they had both moved on, and it was enough to drive him crazy “You were saying?”

“We’re here,” Jon smiled, nodding to the cafe now in front of them.

Damian gave a small smile in return and followed Jon to the outdoor table he claimed to be his favorite. While Jon placed their orders at the front, Damian set the super bear up in one of the seats at the table. He pulled out his phone while he waited, finding texts from Grayson, Todd and Brown all asking him a variation of ‘how’s the date going?’

Damian responded to all the texts from his prying siblings with ‘it’s not a date’ and put his phone away again to look around at the others sitting outside of the cafe.

There were a few younger high school and older middle school students hanging around the tables and benches outside the cafe, enjoying the nice weather and food Jon had claimed to be some of the best in metropolis (“Besides that one time Conner brought me with him to a custody required dinner with Lex a few years ago. That was the best,” he remembered the teen chatting on the walk there). Damian realized Jon had probably learned about the cafe from friends he knew from school.

As he looked around, though, he noticed more and more that the other teens around him were all there in pairs. Sipping on milkshakes and coffees together while they ate a split pastry. Some were holding hands over or under the table, or kissing on benches or leaned against the cafe’s garden walls. Subconsciously he found himself beginning to go into panic, because this was clearly not a place a normal friend from school would take Jon.

He didn’t understand why he was panicking at the notion of the boy having a boyfriend or girlfriend, or having gone on dates before. He was mentally aged to nineteen, even if he was currently dwelling in the body of a fifteen year old.

Maybe it was because sitting among these couples brought out something in him that had nothing to do with Jon. At least, he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with Jon.

He had never felt threatened or out of place when at events that had many couples, his age, younger and older, all gathered and acting as couples. He knew the divorce, widowing and murder rates in Gotham meant that very few couples actually lasted for life. Even around his family he never found himself upset because he was too happy for their pairings. His father and Selina had made a great match despite his earlier doubts, Grayson and West were married with kids of their own, Todd and Harper as dysfunctional as they were still held Damian’s vote as the best fit couple in the family, and Drake and Jon’s cloned older brother were engaged to be wed in the spring.

But these couples were affecting him in such a way that he started to squeeze his stuffed bear’s paw under the table.

What’s wrong with Gotham? He thought, rerunning every statistic and horror story of love he knew from the city. The thought quickly morphed into What’s wrong with me?

It had been a long time since he asked that question, two years to be exact, and it was quickly waved away back to his first question. It had taken years of extensive therapy ordered by Alfred and plenty of love and care from his family, colleagues and friends to help him accept there wasn’t anything wrong with him. He was raised in harsh circumstances that his mother had gotten him out of and to his father the soonest she could. He had built walls and defences, and he knew now at a more mature age that they were all just for show and were unneeded now.

He looked around at the couples again and forced his heart not to harden in the presence. It was beautiful what youth and a good city could do to grow love, and he would be damned if he let a coping mechanism from his childhood make him view it as any less.

“Sorry I took so long,” Jon’s laugh caught his attention and he gave a soft smile up at his friend.

“Not at all.”

Jon took his seat across from him and sat down the tall pink and white milkshake between them as well as a napkin with two cookies on it. Just with a glance Damian could tell Jon had gotten him a dark chocolate variety, and couldn’t help but let his smile grow.

His attention on the cookies of course made him belatedly notice that the milkshake was singular and had two straws sticking up from the top.

“I wasn’t sure what flavor you wanted,” Jon admitted while Damian’s gaze whipped around them, knowing there must be a mistake. Instead of an explanation, Damian’s eyes locked onto a few couples who had a drink or milkshake set up the same way. One drink, two straws, with them drinking from them happily as they stared into each other’s eyes.

“It’s strawberry and cream,” Jon said, drawing his attention again. The teen across from him was nervously adjusting his glasses and pushing back his dark curls, looking anywhere but Damian. Damian noticed the faint blush dusting his cheeks and smiled, before his entire face went red at realization that he had just smiled at his friend blushing.

His brothers’ and Brown’s texts suddenly came back to mind, along with a few romcoms they had watched together and his own observations of his family and their significant others. The movie with a shared bucket of popcorn, the holding hands, the bear purchased and given after winning an arcade game, and now the obviously romantic cafe with a two straw milkshake and a blush.

“Are we on a date right now?” Damian blurted, eyebrow furrowed but eyes wide.

Jon’s head snapped up so quick Damian had barely seen it, compliments of super speed, his eyes equally as wide, “I thought we were, but your expression is telling a totally different story. You don’t have any kryptonite batarangs on you right now, right?”

“Why would I-” Damian shook his head, “We’re on a date no one had the decency to tell me?”

Well, technically Grayson, Todd and Brown had told him, but that wasn’t important. What was important was how shrill his voice was to his own ears, and the sympathetic glances a few couples were giving him.

“I asked Tim to ask you if you go on a date with me since my phone broke,” Jon was babbling now, hands flying around as he tried to explain. “I thought when he told Conner that you said yes you were saying yes to the date!”

A set up, Damian realized. Drake had fully intended for this mess to happen just to spite him. The man was lucky Damian now accepted he loved him, or he would never live to see his spring wedding.

“I need a second,” Damian said, resting his head in his hands. His face felt hot under his fingers, and he feared to imagine just how red it had become. A lifetime of training was all falling apart all because he had spent an entire date with a cute boy completely in the dark to the fact that it was a date.

Wait. Cute boy?

Did he think Jon was cute? Jon was cute, he had always known that, but did he really think he was cute in the way that Drake found the clone cute?

He had been jealous when Tim got the clone back but he lost Jon. That meant something, he had always known that, but he had never really looked into it. If he thought Jon was cute in that way, it explained the jealousy. The feeling of emptiness the half kryptonian boy’s absence had left him with. The reaction of honest to god fear when Jon came back in a way that was definitely socially unacceptable for him to be with.

Jon is cute. I like Jon. Jon likes me…

“Dami?” Jon said quietly, nervously. No, it was more than nerves now, he was afraid. He was afraid in the same way Damian had seen him in his older form. Rejection and heartbreak surly making the taste in his mouth bitter as apologies he didn't need to say weighed on his tongue.

“We’re on a date,” Damian finally said, peeking up from behind his finger. He said it as the statement it was and not the question from before.

“If you want to be,” Jon nodded, some of the fear falling away.

Damian took his hands away from his face but kept his eyes on the milkshake instead of Jon’s face. It was already starting to melt and turn sluggish in its tall cup.

“I want to be,” he said, a soft smile falling on his lips.

“Thank goodness, because I don’t know what I would tell Mom if I went home single,” Jon sighed in relief, then stopped. “That does mean you want to be my boyfriend, right?”

“I want to be your boyfriend,” Damian affirmed, smile growing wider. There was something fuzzy and warm and safe growing in his chest. It reminded him of Jon, as silly as it was considering Jon was the one who put it there.

“Thank goodness,” Jon repeated, letting his head fall on the table. “I think that was the most stressful thing I’ve ever done.”

“Jon, you’ve fought gods.”

“That was a hundred times easier than this was.”

“The milkshake is melting.”

Jon bounced up at that and quickly leaned forward to start gulping the sugary drink from his straw. Damian shook his head with a smaller smile and leaned forward as well.

His face lit up in heat once again when their noses brushed and Damian realized just how close there were, but he didn’t pull back. The milkshake was good, but it had nothing on the bashful and overwhelmingly happy look in Jon’s eyes. Damian was sure it was a look he could get drunk off of if he tried.

“We should probably get going,” Jon said with heavy remorse after they finished the milkshake.

“Probably,” Damian agreed, checking his watch. He wished he had the ability to make time stop, just for a second. He had just found out this was a date, and it was already ending. He would have to use the walk back to Drake and the clone to make up for that lost time.

As they walked down the sidewalk they finished their cookies and stared ahead at the near setting sun. When they were both finished, Damian took Jon’s hand and intertwined their fingers without looking towards him.

“Our next date you should take me to that sweets shop you’ve been talking about,” Damian said with a smile teasing his lips. He glanced from the corner of his eye just in time to catch Jon smiling a close lipped but wide smile. Domain was sure he would never get over how shy Jon could get in his civilian persona.

“I will,” Jon promised.

They reached the fountain they were meeting their brothers much too soon for Damian’s liking. Drake and clone spoted them right away, surly partially due to the oversized stuffed bear Damian was hulling along, and smiled upon spotting their intertwined fingers.

“I see the date went well,” Drake said with a devilish grin.

“No thanks to you,” Damian glared.

“He was just having a little fun,” the older Kent boy waved off Damian’s anger. “You figured it out before it ended at least.”

“Barely,” Damian rolled his eyes.

“But we still had fun,” Jon interjected. “Thank you for bringing Damian with you. It was a good first date.”

“First date as in there will be more,” the clone’s grin matched his fiance’s as he looked between them. “Jon you sly dog, did you get yourself a bat boyfriend?”

“Oh my God,” Jon mumbled, face going red in a new way for that day that was more familiar to Damian as his My Family is Embarrassing me Please Send Help face, as titled by his brother.

“He did,” Damian spoke up for him with a slightly puffed chest.

“I did,” Jon repeated with a smile down at Damian.

“Well, it’s time for me to get your little bat back to Gotham,” Tim interjected.

“Who are you calling little?” Damian raised an eyebrow. He was as tall as Drake and still growing. If it weren’t for Cain, Drake would have been the shortest of the bats.

“Can you please let me live in a fantasy where my little brother is still little for five minutes?” Drake pleaded with him.

Damian rolled his eyes again as Drake kissed his fiance goodbye.

Together they started to walk away from the Kent brothers and back to Drake’s car. Drake allowed the kick that came to his shins as they walked off and even smiled. When they got to the car, Damian had made up his mind.

“Hold this,” Damian said, passing the bear off to Drake as quickly as he could with a stuffed animal of it;s size. “If you drop Jon Jr. I won't hesitate to stick a blade in your shin.”

“Got it, no dropping,” Drake grinned at him over the bear. “Go get him.”

Damian nodded and ran back in the direction they had come from until he reached the fountain and spotted the Kent brothers walking in the other direction. He had to rush to keep up with even just their walking speed, reminding him of how much Jon had to control himself and slow down the entire day. Luckily his own speed, as human as it was, was enough to reach them before they got to the clone’s car.

Without a word, Damian grabbed Jon’s arm as he turned to face him, and pushed up onto his tiptoes to lock their lips together. Jon froze under his hand before melting into the kiss and sliding his hand into Damian’s hair and his other arm around his waist for support.

Damian pulled back with Jon chasing after his lips with his eyes closed. He smiled at the sight and pecked Jon’s lips one more time before parting fully and starting his run back in the direction of his brother’s car.

“You’ll call me, right?” he heard Jon yell behind him.

Damian turned on his heel to look back, “Get your phone fixed and I will.”

Then he kept running, a wide grin on his face.

Maybe sunny days in Metropolis weren't so bad after all.

[systematicmasspoisoning]

Traitor Tubbo

I've seen so many excellent theories as to who the traitor is and I would like to throw my hat into the ring. I see several possible options. Depending on how this is received, this could be part one of a few. Reminder, this is all speculation. I'm analyzing a character here, not the streamer themselves, and in reality no one, especially not these teens and 20-something role players, are genuinely intending to be malicious or calculated. This is a game. But they're playing it, and my heartstrings, so damn well.

My top theory for the traitor? Tubbo.

Traitor Tubbo is definitely a fan favorite, and I'm probably a bit biased. I watch his streams most often and perhaps am overthinking things. But here's my supporting evidence: I think Tubbo has the most motivation because it's been established that Tubbo is underapprecited and underestimated. He's assumed to a yes-man, Tommy's right hand man. Schlatt specifically made him Secretary of State because he knew it would be a kick in the gut to Tommy.

But everyone also knows that shit gets done when Tubbo is on the server. This kid is dedicated. Guess thats what quarantine does to a Minecrafter. He planned the fesitval, helped streamline Pogtopia's potatoes, is an expert in redstone, is draining the ocean and making allies with the Badlands (BBH, Awesamdude, Antfrost, a few others).

Jschlatt said in his speech at the Festival that Tubbo gets things done (only to kill the kid like 10 minutes later :sadface:) and Wilbur said, later, that the planned Manberg Hotel probably won't be built now that Tubbo is (supposedly) on Pogtopia's side. I see parallels to Eret's traitor arc: he was the deus ex machina who saved them in Season 1 from being arrested for drugs, built their walls overnight and was given little credit for it. Wilbur still says to this day, "The walls I built to protect us."

Underappreciation fuels betrayal on this server. And Eret was smart. Overpowered, almost, from all his grinding (some of which he did with Tubbo, for hours on end.) He knew the revolution was 'never meant to be,' that L'Manberg was the losing side. He betrayed for power and kingship. Tubbo has different motivations - he doesn't advocate for violence, so he's said, and he just wants people to get along. He doesn't want a war. So what might he do for peace?

We all know, if we watch old SMP Earth clips and his Among Us streams that he is big brained. He's sometimes malicious and mischievous when he wants to be, as attested by his recent stair pranks. So him being the peaceful, owo baby boi side character isn't necessarily fact. It's a bit. A role, along the lines of Tubee and Big Law. He's much more.

Speaking of the stair prank, so funny, but had the potential to be cruel, too. Anyways, he clearly said that he was watching Tommy's stream, and saw Tommy die to the stairs. Then he pops on the server later and acts clueless to what went down, though he knew, mentioned in his stream earlier that day, that something important was going to happen that day. He turns up while they're discussing traitors, is quick to take control of the conversation and point out that the traitor is likely Wilbur (for being 'technically' on Dream's side, the side of chaos.) Fuel is added to the flames of confusion and infighting.

Playing dumb is one of Tubbo's most popular bits. It farms awes, as Tommy says. People underestimate him and assume he has no reason to lie. Tommy so easily believed him when Tubbo said he had the discs. In the Dream Betrayal stream, Tommy confronts Dream about the location of the discs with Tubbo in the call. The misunderstanding is cleared up. They don't question Tubbo's earlier statements. They also don't question it when Tubbo mentions he has blackmail on Dream. I have no idea what that might be, we can speculate on that all day. But when it comes to the discs, I think Tubbo lost a bargaining chip there. His lie was very thin. But we know he's good at lying (when its actually important) and thinking quick on his feet so I feel like there must be some motivation behind it. I don't know how, but I think the discs will definitely play a part in the coming war.

That same stream, with Dream's betrayal, Wilbur even foreshadowed Traitor Tubbo. He was making a list of their allies on the wall in Pogtopia and, despite his chat screaming at him to include Tubbo, he leaves the kid off the list and dismisses chat's worries. I'm being a little dramatic here, but can you imagine Tubbo coming across that? Seeing himself, once again, left out of the loop, off the list of people they can trust, possibly considered unimportant now that he's filled his role as a spy and had his arc seemingly completed? Back to being a yes man, a footnote in L'manberg's history, the sidekick to the protagonist, a foil who is killed off to fuel the protagonists' need for revenge.

Except, in Minecraft, you don't really die. You're respawned. Tubbo didn't die when he was executed on the day of the festival; a celebration he planned, was proud of, so excited to take part of that he used a dyslexic font to write his speech.

Some notes about the festival.

1. His excitement. He was looking forward to it. I say let him be excited, that's not necessarily suspicious - he worked damn hard on it.

2. But, I have thought about his difficulty choosing a side. He showed interest in blowing up L'Manberg, but then turns on a dime when Tommy says it's bad, and then comes up with a diplomatic response of "I trust your better judgment, Wilbur " There was the added element of peer pressure from Wilbur and Tommy, granted, talking over him and assuming his viewpoint. He's not always a yes man, he stands up to himself with Tommy constantly, but the scene with him on the roof with Tommy and Wilbur shows how little he is kept in the loop. (Him understanding peer pressure likely led to him forgiving Techno so easily. But I also wonder, and others have too, if he forgave Techno.... too easily.)

3. This isn't so much of a point but something that keeps the writer in me up late at night. He was very grateful when Schlatt praised him, probably something he didn't hear often under Wilbur's rule.

4. He said the phrase. In spite of him not advocating for violence, he said the phrase that would trigger an explosion. The choice was in his hands. That is assuming he got Wilbur's DM telling him what to do, but Tubbo had been told by Wilbur to check his DMs and they had been exchanging whispers frequently throughout the stream, Tubbo taking orders from Wilbur to hurry things along. On that note, why a DM? Why didn't he give Tubbo the order through a whisper thru minecraft where we could see the wording? Likely because they use their DMs to push along major plot points and discuss serious matters. This wasn't just an order from Wilbur, the character, this was an order from the streamer who has the most role playing experience and has admitted to being the puppetmaster behind a lot of Tommy and Tubbo's major actions. Tubbo, who has always tried to advocate for peace, supposedly was told a trigger phrase that would blow the place up, and he said it. It was so out of character for him, that I was surprised, and Wilbur was surprised too, from how Tubbo scrambled. So, I don't know - did Tubbo know it was a trigger phrase? What did the DM say?

There was clearly a lot of miscommunication and weird things that day so all of this is speculation. However, from Tubbo' side of the stream, you can see the deliberation when he finished the speech. The pause. The silence, like he was finished, but then Schlatt reminded him (not the real quote) "Anything else?" And then. Tubbo took the leap. To us, the uninformed audience, it seemed he was willing, in that moment, to allow the chaos.

He was given a role of power, and it backfired on him so quick after, but I would like to rewind to the moment Wilbur decided to give Tubbo a deciding role. I knew Tubbo would be playing a big part this season, cause the boy deserves it, but Wilbur putting that decision in the hands of Tubbo? Wow. *Chef's kiss* Wil's reasoning was, if Tubbo wanted to prove he wasn't a yes man, he'd make the decision NOT to pull the trigger.

But Wilbur also said that Schlatt approved of the speech and would know if Tubbo deviated, putting Tubbo at risk of being caught. He was caught anyway, obviously, but there was a moment there... where Schlatt was giving Tubbo a choice, too. To say the phrase that would prove he was a traitor. Like...Schlatt knew what was planned, and wanted to see what Tubbo would decide. Maybe it was a trigger phrase for something else, not just the bombs.

Point is. Tubbo, technically, saved the day. He was, in physical form, the button. He was the deciding factor for great destruction. He said the phrase, but instead of Manberg being blown, Schlatt moved quickly to trap Tubbo and start a bit that would STOP WILBUR IN HIS TRACKS. The button was never fully pressed. Tubbo's Traitor/Spy Arc was halted, and a diverging plot formed, one where Tubbo is exiled too, trusted again by Pogtopia, and the land isn't blown to smithereens.

As Wilbur has said time and time again, when you introduce a weapon in a story, it has to go off at some point. Traitor Tubbo has been on our minds since the day he was left behind in Manberg and given a position, (once again, might I add, as a right hand man, a loyal lackey. Never the lead.) Has that arc met its completing? Did it go off with a bang?

One possible theory is that, well, no. This has all been premeditated. Not scripted fully, but I feel as though there are strings being pulled by a master who knows how to tell a story.

When he was asked to be a spy, Tubbo's position was nearly revealed time and time again but it was Schlatt who decided he was too bored to continue walking down the tunnels. It was Schlatt who easily accepted Tubbo's blatant lie that he was pregnant and allowed for so much betrayal under his nose.

What I'm saying here is that Schlatt is, in fanfic terms, soft for Tubbo. In a less fluffy way, what I'm suggesting (which has been suggested before) is that Tubbo wasn't a double agent. He was a triple agent.

I've read a lot of fucking books, and when you're a triple agent and one side is getting suspicious of you, what's the greatest length you can go to to prove your loyalty to someone? Die for them. Organize your execution. Throw yourself on top of a bomb.

But like I said. You don't die in Minecraft.

(While I'm on the subject, does anyone find it interesting how Tubbo focused on messaging only Wilbur while Technoblade was on stage, whispering 'i thought he woulded hurt me?' and the like. Wouldn't you, if you were being executed, contact your best friend to get you out of there? Or the clearly stalling 'ally' holding a crossbow to your head? But it wasn't Tommy or Techno that Tubbo needed to convince of his innocence. Its Wilbur who was sus of him.)

I digress. Tubbo didn't die, but he execution=exile and he's living full time with Pogtopia. He's proven his loyalty. When Tubbo is asked if he's a traitor, his best friend quickly jumps to his support and says, something to the effect of, "Schlatt killed him! He couldn't be a traitor!" Suspicion is thrown off him.

He wasn't even there when Dream revealed there was a traitor. He. Played. Dumb.

Meanwhile, streaming on his own, Tubbo is seeking out tridents and OP bows, working on Redstone traps, refusing to get netherite for Tommy, going so far as to trap his friend's house under the guise of a prank, and appearing in TeamSpeak calls to listen in while Tommy was mining gold with Dream (around the time Tommy was pressuring the green bastard to reveal who the traitor is.)

Tubbo has also been building a reputation as someone with bad wifi and a constantly crashing game, so he can conveniently leave situations and not help out when he doesn't wanna. Sidebar: I have to wonder if Tubbo will even stream the day of the war. Schlatt doesn't stream, and neither did the Dream Team when they were villains. It builds up tension and the audience wonders about their motivations. Granted, Eret did stream so his betrayal was a huge surprise, but recently Tubbo has, quite often, made a point of struggling with bad wifi and a game that seems to crash when he's not the one streaming. It wouldn't be too suspicious for him to claim technical difficulties so he can slide under the radar and not have snitches and stream snipers tracing his steps. This is a stretch, but it would be Big Brained to meta game the war.

I've watched a lot of Tubbo's streams lately. It's probably not healthy, and I'm probably connecting dots that aren't there.

But here is my prediction(s) for next week.

Dream said, jokingly, the traitor is Tommy. Despite Tommy's adamance, it may just be possible. He just doesn't know about it yet. Maybe Tubbo talks Tommy into betraying Wilbur. (Wilbur, specifically, and not necessarily their cause, which is not to be exiled and have a not-blown-up L'manberg.) Tommy has said he couldn't be the traitor because he wouldn't betray Tubbo (followed by "Wilbur, too...well...he is a little crazy lately" and you can hear Tubbo in the background making noises of agreement.)

But if betraying Tubbo was no longer a worry? I think, for Tubbo, and for the discs, Tommy would negotiate new terms with Dream. Another end to the war. Another peace treaty. Let's be real, once Tommy switches sides, Pogtopia will crumble. Him and Tubbo are the linchpins.

To continue, Dream supposedly has a contract with Schlatt, and in the stream today, he was leaving banners with a big red X on different properties, like in Tommy's house. Marking territory. He made a point of doing it while Tommy was streaming, following the kid around into the nether and giving shields with the giant red X to supposedly Pogtopian allies (Awesamdude, George.)

Wilbur told Quackity in the Dream Betrayal stream that he worries that Dream's deal with Schlatt is to rescind Manberg's independence. To give power back to Dream. To get Tommy's allyship, Dream may propose instating Tommy as president. Those are Wilbur's predictions. They're not far off the mark. Or maybe I'm just as paranoid as him lol.

I think Dream is trying to manipulate Tommy, but what will the terms be? Presidency? Or Freedom?

I'm not sure that Tommy wants to be president. He likes to play around and while he's shown he can be good at coordination and leadership, (for example, the recent MCC thing where he taught Quackity how to play and they kicked ass,) Wilbur is quite right. Tommy shouldn't be president. Narratively, we all know the server would become....chaos. Okay, that might be kind of fun and he's got good ideas.. I like the kid, and he's grown so much, but he's not "mature enough." Not like Tubbo is, according to Wilbur himself (this is referencing the Stays in The Pit battle). Dream has also said, in the eboy collaboration, that the only Dream SMP player in the video whose stood a chance was Tubbo.

Tubbo has said he doesn't want to be president either, but shit gets done when Tubbo is on. Nature is preserved, giant builds are coordinated, events planned (with cute little digital invites sent to players). The few times that Tubbo has shared his opinion about drama on the server (there's a moment before the Pit that he gives a good speech) he's shown sound logic, great empathy, a willingness to compromise, to have fun and strengthen their community.

There's an old saying, that those who seek power shouldn't have it, and those who don't want the power are the ones who deserve it. If peace wants to be preserved on the SMP, maybe Tubbo should be president, and Tommy should see what it's like to be the right hand man. Or maybe, they will simply run off to a distant jungle base and leave the war to the adults.

My point is, Tubbo is Chekov's gun. Tubbo is the button that hasn't been pushed yet. He may be the deciding factor to change the tide of the war, by changing Tommy's loyalties. Tubbo might not be fully loyal to Schlatt, I could be totally off about the triple agent thing, but he's certainly not loyal to Wilbur. To Dream? We'll have to see. From what we've been shown so far, his loyalty is to himself and to Tommy, and in the end, its usually him and Tommy against the world.

If I'm wrong, I'm wrong. It's fun to speculate. He's just a kid, a smart one granted, and he's having fun; he isn't evil. Unless Evil Tubbo is the next huge arc, the villain of Season 3???? God I would love that. Go feral kiddo.

There are other streamers who are equally over looked and unappreciated and have just as much motivation to be the traitor. Niki is a strong contender, have ya'll heard about the letter she wrote to a mysterious 'friend?' Or, or, what if Philza gets whitelisted? What if there's no shocking traitor at all, just Dream trying to cause division in Pogtopia? What if it's us, the viewers, who were the traitors all along for being dirty snitches? (@rainbowtransform, great theory.)

I'm sure I'll be surprised no matter what the outcome is. But nothing would please me more than to see Tubbo get the spotlight he deserves.

Let me know your thoughts?

[the-weeping-author]

Trick or Treat Brandon.

A/N: I love Halloween so here’s a Halloween fic it is scary. I hope Im pretty happy with this fic and I hope you all are to, I hope it’s puts you in the scary Halloween spirit.

This fic is for @moonlit-imagines writing challenge

Tag list: @ahoy-stevieboy @thehair-ington @linkispink1995 @harringtown @violet-dahlia @gardeniasandwhiskey @lxvesickreality @bluebellbrooke @thenameishayley248 @pappydaddy @simplesammyx @didyouputyournameinthegob @lenassaviorsblog @wolphielautz

Wanrings: 18+, Gore, Blood, cussing, Graphic. So font read it easily scared, squeamish. Might get you paranoid idk 🤷🏻‍♀️.

Wordcount: 4,971

Please enjoy 😊

Steve was sitting on his couch, like usual his parents weren’t home. When Steve saw me he started to clam up, it immediately made my suspicions shoot sky high. He either was up to something or he did something he did without asking me. I guess I was about to find out which one it was.

“Hey Steve how was your day babe?”

Steve looked at me, smiled slightly, shrugging his shoulders at me.

“It was okay I just missed you at school today.”

I smiled, I walked over to him.

“Awe baby it’s okay I just had a doctors appointment, but I’ll be there tomorrow.”

I smiled at him, I plopped on the couch beside him. I leaned on his shoulder, he kissed my forehead letting out a sigh.

“So Babe I might as well tell you I told some of our friends we’d go to a party they are throwing on Halloween.”

I lifted my head up off of him, I let out a groan.

“Steve, why would you do that? You know how I feel about your friends. Are Nancy and Johnathan gonna go?”

He looked down at me, shrugged his shoulders. He ran his fingers through his hair, stood up from the couch, walked over to the phone then punched in the numbers.

“Hey Johnathan Y/N was wondering if y’all were going to the party tonight?”

“Oh okay well I’ll tell her. Yeah alright I’ll see you around bye.”

Steve hung the phone up, he turned to look at me.

“Sorry babe they can't, they already had plans.”

“It’s okay I’ll guess I’ll just go for you babe.”

He kissed my lips, then walked to the kitchen. I stood up, walked into the kitchen kissing his lips.

“You owe me Harrington.”

It was finally Halloween, Steve and I had woken up early enough to go get last minute pieces for our costumes. We had a party to go to tonight. It was at an abandoned farm, a couple of our friends were going, so we’re we. Now it was out of town, but Steve and I didn’t mind. Plus it was a weekend so neither one of us was worried about school, or homework. Steve and I were surprising each other with what we were going to be. I was going as Madonna, all I knew told me he was going to look hot. Which I already knew, I mean not that he needed to try to look hot. He was already hot well at least to me, every other girl at Hawkins.

So you can imagine the disappointment the girls had when they found out we were dating. Steve was currently in our bathroom changing, I was in the hallway bathroom changing. I heard footsteps go past the bathroom, stopping right in front of the door then I heard Steve's voice.

“Hey babe I’ll be in the living room when you get ready.”

“Okay Steve I’ll see you in a few.”

I finished my hair, I pulled on my skirt some. I then unlocked the bathroom door, I stepped out into the hallway. I walked into the living room, I saw Steve my eyes widen as the sleeves of his shirt hugged his arms, god it made me wanna hop his bones. I had more self control than that though, but Steve on the other hand his mouth was gaped open. His eyes were looking all around my body, he smiled at me and walked over to me.

“Y/N you look hot.”

My cheeks heated up, Steve kissed my cheek. Steve and I walked out the front door, he locked up, and we were off to the car. Something felt off, but I just shrugged it off. I mean a lot of bad things happened in Hawkins so I had to get used to not feeling completely okay anymore. As we drove closer and closer to the party I felt like we should be heading in the other direction. At the same moment a car sped past us, laid on his horn which made me jump halfway off my seat. Steve had looked at me, put his hand on my thigh.

“Hey Y/N are you okay?”

I looked over at him, nodded my head.

“Yeah Steve I’m fine I just… there’s just a feeling inside of me that we shouldn’t be going to this party.”

“Oh okay princess well if you want to go home we can.”

I looked at him, smiled and shook my head at him.

“No no it’s okay I’m sure I’m just being dramatic.”

He looked at me, raised his eyebrows.

“Are you sure cause I don’t mind turning around.”

“No no Steve it’s okay I promise I’m fine.”

“Okay if you insist Y/N.”

The rest of the car ride was pretty fun, it honestly eased my mind. It was like Steve was my anxiety cure.

I couldn’t ask for a better way to help calm me. When we pulled up to the barn my anxiety was back. The barn was a brick red like it had just been painted. The house was also kept in good condition I mean besides the grass. I’d love to live here with Steve one day but I honestly didn’t want to rush it.

College was in two years, I didn’t want to go to a different college as Steve I wanted us to be with each other. I gripped Steve’s hand tightly, he looked down at me. He smiled, kissed my forehead and I took a deep breath. The farm was beautiful except the grass which looked like it hadn’t been cut in a few months, It just looked abandoned. Steve and I walked into the back yard, we saw The huge corn field. It was really intimidating.

The only people I knew here were Emma, Josh, Tommy H, Carol, Jack, Ashley, Steve and I, but people sure did show up. If I had to guess I would say at least 500 students had showed up. I saw all types of costumes, I was excited but one guy held my attention. He was standing against the drink table, he was just staring at everyone. He wasn’t interacting, but he was probably one of the guys who thought they were too cool to party.

As the night went on the party had died down slowly but surely. Steve and I were slow dancing, he looked down at me, he smiled pushing some of my now deflated hair out of my face.

“I told you, you’d have a fun time Y/N.”

I looked up at him, let out a drunken snort.

“Did you basically just tell me you told me so Harrington?”

He cracked a smile, kissed my lips.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.”

Steve kissed me again then pulled away, he got close to my ear and raised his voice so he could be heard over the music. I nodded my head. I watched him drunkenly stumble away, after he stumbled a little bit into the corn I felt eyes on me. At first I convinced myself that I was just over reacting, but then the feeling became stronger. Not only did I feel eyes on me but I felt tension. So I turned around and I saw him. It was the same guy who was leaning on the drink table. He was just staring at me. I smiled lightly, waved at him. He turned away from me, he walked into the cornfield.

*Killers pov*

I heard a car door shut, I walked to the side of the window. I barely looked out of it, I saw a group of teenagers walking towards the cornfield. I grabbed my knife, as the last kid went into the cornfield I followed them. They had walked about a mile and a half into the field. When they finally got to the party area I saw four huge speakers around the perimeter, the music was blaring. There were drinks being poured, food being eaten. I watch from behind the corn, I’d figured I’d show these kids how to party.

It took awhile for the other teenagers to separate from one another, I knew who my victims were going to be. A young guy who didn't look any older than 17 wandered off, I quickly followed him. It’s not like anyone knew I was here, I knew the paths in the corn maze because I lived here. I grabbed my knife, while he was peeing I walked up behind him slitting his throat from ear to ear. I watched his lifeless carcass lay there unable to move, I watched the life slowly fade out of his eyes. I drug his body where I knew no one would look.

After I knew his body wouldn’t be recovered I went back to the group, I hid the knife in my hoodie pocket. I walked over to the drink table, that’s when I saw a Y/H/C haired girl with a brown haired boy. The girl was staring at me. She smiled tightly, continuing with their night. Little did they know mine just started and it wasn’t going to end anytime soon. I drank a few drinks, I saw the girl that was with the guy I killed went looking for him. I knew she was going to be my next victim, I didn’t have any remorse about who I killed. I didn’t care who I was taking them from.

I can just say they all were at the wrong place at the wrong time. I had only one goal and that was to kill them all. There was a couple here who I knew would be my last victims, and that was the boy dressed as Han Solo and the girl dressed as Madonna. They looked like they’d be fun to torture, but the only question was which one of them would be my last victim? My focus was back on the girl who was dressed as some work out girl. I snuck up behind her, I covered her mouth stabbing her in the back. I slid the knife out, jammed it back in.

After her body went limp I let her hit the floor, I drug her body further in the shed. I cut off her hands, then I continued to dismember her body. When I was done I cleaned myself off, the knife when I rejoined the party, no one seemed to notice that two of their friends had disappeared. I noticed some of the kids started to leave as it got later, I was honestly relieved when I saw my planned victims still here. So I decided it was officially time to play. I loved playing cat and mouse especially with people who had no idea that they were the mouse.

As the night went on the more teenagers died. I made some of my own Halloween decorations. One kid was my official scarecrow, let’s just say he was definitely going to scare people away. His death was my favorite death so far. The way his neck cracked when I broke it gave me a thrill, the way I felt him struggle against me made my adrenaline race. I wanted more, I needed more and I was far from done. There were only six teenagers left. Four girls and four guys, but I had to be smart about this if I just popped out they could all take me on easily. So I went into the bar, I grabbed the knife. After getting that I circled around to the front of the house where their cars were parked, walked up to their cars digging my knife into all sixteen tires.

Now they were stuck here with me, the best part was they didn’t have a clue. I snuck back to the party, I noticed a couple was missing. I went to the bar, grabbed the Axe that was hanging near the handsaw, pitchfork. I walked out the back of the barn, came face to face with a guy. Before he could even think I swung the axe, his head went flying across the yard, near the huge oak tree. The girl which I’m guessing is his girlfriend came out from the other side of the shed, when she saw her boyfriend's head near the tree she screamed. I quickly walked over to her, punched her in the face striking her left temple.

I drug her body to the root of the three, and start stomping her head on the root. I could hear her teeth break as I stomped, I picked her head up by her hair, and started viciously beating her face against the tree. It was satisfying to hear her nose break. The more I beat her face the more her bones broke. Soon enough as blood trailed from her eyes, mouth, and ears her skull cracked, pieces of Brain went all over the place. At this point I didn’t need to hide the bodies anymore. They couldn't escape even if they tried, I picked up the axe I had, then I put more of the teenagers bodies up as decorations. I cut the guy's eyes out, I used him as a Jack O’lantern. I sat the girl at a table that was in another section of the cornfield.

I guess you could say it was like a maze, but these teenagers were smart. They knew their way in and out of an easy corn maze, but what they weren’t expecting was their friends to be so hands on with the maze. Now all I had to do was lure the last two couples away from my last two victims, I was good to go. I walked into the corn maze, back to the party. I whispered something, the drunk girl turned towards me, I backed up into the corn maze. Of course she followed me, the alcohol made her curious and it got the best of her.

As soon as she stepped into the corn I killed her. As I drug her towards the table with the good China on it I sat her in the chair. Sitting her up as a decoration, I fixed the fingers that I chopped off and put them on a plate, I used the other empty plate for their ears. Now we just needed “tea” to finish the decorations, so that’s what I intended to do next. As I snuck back to the cornfield a guy saw me, I was covered in blood. He immediately took notice. He told his friends, but they didn’t believe him in fact they laughed at him. The guy got mad, walked off.

As he walked off I heard my last two victims talking to my next two.

“Can you believe that guy Tommy?”

“Yeah I know Steve he really thinks we are that stupid to feed into his Halloween prank?”

I didn’t hear the rest cause I walked away. I knew the last two guys' names were Tommy, and Steve. I heard footsteps near me, I turned seeing the guy who had walked off immediately. He hit me, I tasted a rich copper taste in my mouth. I quickly wiped at my lip, struck him in the throat. As he was gasping for air I grabbed his head, I raised my knee slamming his face directly into the center of my knee. The force sent his body back, he was lying on his back. I grabbed his feet, drug him to the same exact spot I did the last girl, but when he started to wake up I punched him in his temple, I opened his mouth, cut out his tongue. I leaned him over the big tea pot, let the blood flow into it.

As soon as I felt his pulse slowing down I dressed him up in overalls, put a straw hat on him. I dressed the other two couples up to match him, I knew it was time to get this over with. I poured the blood in each cup, I put their hands on the tea cups. I walked back to the shed, grabbed a few weapons that would make this process faster, but how they died would still be on my terms. I grabbed the pitchfork, I hid it under some of the hay that was in the maze. After setting the next few traps it was time to reveal myself, I was near the entrance of the party. The first to see me was the girl dressed as Madonna. She grabbed the boy dressed as Han Solo, then he got the attention of the other two. As soon as they all saw me I pulled out the machet.

it took them a minute to figure out why I had a machete, but when they did I could see the panic set in. They split up, I couldn’t have been happier. My focus wasn’t on Steve and the girl, but it was focused on Tommy and his girlfriend. I walked towards them, they ran down the other opening of the maze, well I knew that was going to happen, I followed them. Tommy was running, I just stood there. I knew what was going to happen, sure enough it happened. Tommy had tripped on some fishing line I put up, his face met my pitchfork. His girlfriend let out a scream, I heard the other two calling For her.

“Carol? Carol where are you?”

Carol looked at me, wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“Why are you Doing this?”

I smirked at her, I walked slowly towards her.

“Oh carol you think I need a motive? It’s scarier when you don’t have one.”

I smiled at her, she took off. I ran after her though. She was almost close enough to grab. so I pushed her down, but when I turned her around she threw dirt in my face, kneed me in the balls. I immediately dropped, wiped the dirt out of my eyes. As soon as my vision came back I stood up, and was on the hunt. As soon as I turned the corner Carol popped out, smacked me with a wood beam. This little bitch wasn’t going down without a fight, if it was a fight she wanted it was a fight I was going to give her. When she went to swing the beam again I ducked, and stabbed her in the leg.

She let out a scream, I stabbed her in the cheek. As I pulled the knife out she grabbed her cheek, spit blood in my face. I grabbed her by her hair, she was a fighter but she wouldn’t win against me. I brought her back to the shed, I lined her up with the hook that was hanging in the shed, I lifted her up then shoved her body on the hook. She let out a gut wrenching scream, I put the wood chipper under her. I went to look for the other two.

*Readers pov*

I ran with Steve, we hid behind the tractor. I heard Carol scream, I jumped slightly grabbing Steve's hand. Tears had formed in my eyes when I heard her scream. He was touring her. Steve had peaked around the tree, saw him going into the cornfield. Next thing I knew we were heading towards the shed. We saw Carol hanging, my hand flew over my mouth. I couldn’t imagine the pain she was in, Steve and I went over to her, she was limp. When we started trying to get her down she let out a scream. I jumped slightly, Steve was trying to get her to be quiet. As soon as Steve almost got her down the woodchipper turned on.

As soon as Steve had gotten Carol down she struggled and he lost his grips her body went into the woodchipper, blood flew all over me. I closed my eyes as her warm blood flew all over me. As soon as I opened them I saw pieces of her body all over the place. As soon as I went to say something the back of the shed was kicked open, there was the killer. Steve grabbed my hand, ran towards the cars. As soon as we got there we saw the tires were flat. Steve looked at me, I looked towards the house.

“Steve we need to get into the house.”

Steve looked at me, raised his eyebrow.

“Y/N are you crazy that’s the first place he’s going to look.”

I let out a sigh, then looked at Steve.

“Well Steve we don’t really have much of an option now do we?”

He sighed then nodded his head.

“Alright let’s go, quickly so he doesn’t know where we went.”

As we walked up the porch Steve had grabbed the door knob, the door opened. It felt too easy, I was right as soon as we opened the door the killer grabbed me. Steve looked at us both, then put his hands in the air.

“Hey, hey she’s an easy kill you don’t want her. If you want someone who’s going to give you a fight it’s me.”

As soon as Steve had the killer's attention I stomped on his toe, head butted him slamming the side of my head into him, when he let go I faced him, kicked him in the knee cap making him fall. His knee hit the step, his chin hit the top step. Steve and I rushed inside, shut the door. Steve ran into the kitchen, I was right behind him. Steve grabbed a knife, I couldn’t find a weapon. So I grabbed a cast iron skillet. As soon as the killer stepped into the kitchen I swung the skillet with all my might and hit him right in the face.

He stumped back grabbing his nose as it started to bleed. He grabbed the knife that was in his pocket, threw it at me. It hit my leg and it got stuck. I dropped the Iron skillet, quickly pulled out the knife. I let out a scream, I dropped the knife and limped over to the killer. He grabbed my ankle, I turned towards him and lifted up my leg. I swung my leg back, I kicked him right in the jaw. He let go of my leg, I limped up the stairs. When I turned around Steve was behind me, I started down the stairs.

When I got down to them I saw The killer trying to get into the pantry where I assumed Steve was. Let out a scream to get his attention which worked, then he was after me. I hopped up the stairs as fast as I could, I felt him grab at my costume, as soon as I went to get away from him he punched me in the back causing me to fall. He turned me around, I kicked him down the stairs. I scrambled to my feet, I limped down the hallway into a room. I walked into the room, I shut the door. The floorboards would freak the more weight I put on them.

I tried to walk as quietly as I could, but with this leg injury it was nearly impossible. I heard the door knob wiggle, I limped over to the closet. Walking in it but before I could get in it two skeletons fell out the closet, I let out a scream. The door busted open, I whipped around looking face to face with the killer. I took in a deep breath, looked at him.

“If you want me here I am mother fucker get it over with.”

He ran at me, tackled me out the door. We landed on the balcony, he leaned over me wrapping his hands around my throat, I started struggling against him. I saw a piece of the door on the floor, I reached for it but I couldn’t get it. I finally came to grips that I wouldn’t see Steve anymore. I wouldn’t see my little brother, I wouldn’t see my mother. I wouldn’t see another day again. This is how it was going to end and I was fine with it.

As soon as I gave into the idea of death his grip loosen around my throat, I opened my eyes to see him and Steve fighting. All I had to do was look at Steve to get that fighting spirit back, that was because Steve looked like shit. He had blood on running down his lip, his once white sleeve was now soaked red. I grabbed the largest part of the door and it had a rusty nail poking out of it. I picked it up, I swung as hard as I could. I heard a thump then I heard another thump. I walked to the edge of the balcony, I looked down to see the killer laying there. He wasn’t moving, Steve had put his arm around my shoulder, I looked at him then smiled.

“Let’s go home please.”

“Fine by me baby.”

Steve and I walked down the stairs, out the front door I walked to the car, I grabbed my purse out of it. Then I started walking down the driveway when it hit me. The other cars probably had spare tires in them. I looked at Steve, told him they probably had spare tires in the back. We walked back to the cars, I opened Steve’s trunk while he went to find something to get the other cars trunks open. As soon as I turned to get out the car the killer had grabbed my throat and began to choke me. I grabbed my purse, I got my pepper spray out, I sprayed him in the eyes. when he let go I gasped for breath, I grabbed the Jack I stepped out of the car, I hit him in his face with the Jack knocking him out.

When Steve came back he had rope along with a crowbar, I looked at Steve, he looked at the killer on the ground.

“W-what happened?”

I looked at him, took in a breath.

“Well I thought he was dead but apparently not so I knocked him out with the Jack, give me the rope so I can tie him up.”

When he handed me the rope I grabbed the jack to the car and hit him again. I turned him on his stomach, I tied up his arms along with his feet. After an hour or so of Steve opening the trunks and changing the tires. The killer finally came to. He started struggling, I walked over to him and I kicked him in the face.

“Steve I think I saw a gas station down the road when we came here. Drive down there and call the cops.”

He looked at me, he shook his head.

“Y/N I’m not leaving you here with him. What if he gets loose?”

I looked at Steve, I smirked.

“Then the cops will have another body to take to the morgue.”

He nodded then got in the car and started up. He put the car in reverse and took off. I let out a breath of air, I heard him laughing. I walked over to him, I turned him on his back.

“What the fuck is so funny?”

He looked at me, he spit on me. I stood back up, I kicked him in the stomach. He let out a groan, he started laughing again. I got pissed, I stood up and started kicking him. He continued to laugh as I kicked him but he started choking, When he coughed hard He coughed up blood.

“Not so funny now is it?”

He looked at me, he smiled.

I stood back up, I heard Steve pull back up. He got out of the car, looked at me.

“Y/N get away from him.”

“Yeah Y/N get away from me, be a good girl for Steve.”

I kicked him in the face again, just as I went to kick again Steve pulled me away from him.

About fifteen minutes later the police showed up. After they discovered all the bodies they arrested the killer, they started reading him his rights. They took us to the ambulance, I heard one of the officers say his name, I looked at Steve and he nodded at me. I called an officer over, I looked at him.

“Officer did he say why he did that to my friends.”

He looked at me and moved his hat some.

“Well miss Y/L/N Brandon escaped from the mental hospital and it took your friends and you to come here to hit a nerve.”

I nodded my head, I watched him walk back to the squad car. When they were pulling he looked at us smiling, I smiled back and then flicked him off.

“Happy Halloween Brandon.”

Three days after we got out of the hospital Steve and I had got back to his house Steve and I were sitting on the couch snuggled up watching a movie, I kissed his cheek.

“Thank you.”

He smiled at me then looked at me.

“For what?”

I looked at him, shrugged.

“For not leaving me.”

He smiled at me, kissed my lips.

“Y/N you’re the love of my life I couldn’t ever leave you.”

I smiled, I took in a deep breath. We would recover from this but it would take a while, but I knew with Steve by my side that would be completely possible.

A/N: thank you guys for reading this I’m really proud of it. I hope you guys liked it.

[jarienn972]

Weathering the Storm - Part Three

When I started writing this story months ago, I had the events all plotted out and honestly planned to finish writing it over the course of a few weeks. Unfortunately, the stresses of real life got in the way and I all but abandoned writing for a while. I'm finally getting back to a place where I can form complete, coherent sentences again so I'm getting a few new chapters out for my WIP stories. In this chapter, we're picking up from Emma's POV again as she tries to figure out why Killian has yet to return or contact her amidst the severe thunderstorms pounding Storybrooke.

Since it’s been quite a while since the last chapter was posted, you can catch up here on Tumblr - Part 1  Part 2  All 3 parts are also available on AO3 and FF.net

Was this storm ever going to end? Emma found herself wondering as she silently cursed the rain that continued to pelt Main Street. The typically bustling street itself was already looking more akin to a swollen creek than a roadway as the storm drains overflowed. Mini rivers of rainwater gushed along the curbs in search of an outlet while they flowed towards the harbor.

The power had flickered a few times but still wasn't coming back on. She figured there were likely some lines down around town due to the strong wind gusts or maybe even a blown transformer somewhere that overloaded the grid. Anything was possible with the severely outdated infrastructure around here. They really needed to conjure some upgraded utility systems in Storybrooke but no one ever seemed to get around to it.

A thought crossed her mind about the possibility of controlling the weather with her magic before she sighed somberly and closed the blinds covering the station's front window. No use sitting out here watching the rain falling, she thought as she made the short stroll back to her office determined to try reaching Killian, either by phone or over the radio. Maybe it wasn't raining as bad on the other side of town…?

Her backside had barely settled onto her chair when the vibration of her cell phone on the desktop startled her. She spun about and snatched it up in hopes that she'd see her husband's name on the screen. Her excitement immediately diminished when she noticed that it was her father calling instead.

"Hi, Dad," she answered, trying to disguise the disappointment in her voice. "What's up? Are you staying dry out there on the farm?"

"Very funny…," he groaned over the crackling connection. "We've got more than an inch of water in the barn and a lake where the garden should be, but that's not why I'm calling. Were either of you out patrolling on County Highway 2?"

"Killian was headed out to Zelena's place earlier. Somebody threw a brick through her living room window so he went out to get her statement and see if it might have been related to the recent string of vandalism around town. He left here about two hours or so ago, maybe a little longer… Why do you ask?"

"Because our favorite melodramatic dwarf just stopped by here to say that he drove by the cruiser out there while on his way into town. He said it was parked on the side of the highway and appeared to be running, but he didn't see anyone in it. Of course, we are talking about Leroy so he could have been exaggerating... But since this seemed to have bothered him enough to stop here and tell me about it - although not enough to get out and take an actual look at the cruiser - it got me a little concerned, so I figured I should check with you…" David knew he was rambling but he also noticed Emma's hesitation before replying.

"I've been trying to reach Killian but he hasn't answered. I was actually hoping it was him when you called…"

"You've tried the radio?"

"Of course, I have," she snapped back in frustration, but she tempered her ire before continuing. "I figured he got stuck out at Zelena's. With the power out all over town and the already crappy cell phone service out there, he might not have been able to call…" But then why would the cruiser be out on the side of the highway running? "Did Leroy happen to say how long ago he saw the car?"

"Just a few minutes ago. Maybe ten? Fifteen?" David replied. "Look, I can drive out there and see what's going on if you'd like…"

"No, Dad. I'll go check it out."

"Emma, my truck will handle these flooded roads better than that little Bug of yours."

"I wasn't planning on driving," she informed him as she hurried to collect her still-damp leather jacket. "I'll poof out there and take a look. Hopefully I'll be able to see what's going on but I could still use your help. Could you come here to the station? Henry's here with me waiting out the storm since the station generator at least gives us some lights. He might need a ride home…"

"Why don't I just stay there at the station? I could help field any calls that might come in…"

"Dad…"

"No arguments. I'm volunteering," he insisted.

"Okay, okay… I'll let Henry know you're coming. Thanks for the help."

"That's what family is for. Now get out there and see what's going on with the cruiser and that husband of yours."

David disconnected the call as Emma tugged on her jacket. She pocketed her phone, not particularly keen on going back out into this lousy storm but she had to find out why Leroy saw the cruiser parked on the side of the road but no Killian inside it. First though, she needed to tell Henry she was leaving and before she could even take a step towards the break room, she spied her son rounding the corner.

Sometimes this kid really did have a sixth sense she didn't fully understand.

"Who was that you were talking to? Was it Killian?" he asked as he approached.

"No, it was David. I have to head out to investigate something that just came up. He's coming here to help man the office until either Killian or I get back."

"Must be something pretty serious for you to go out again in this weather…"

"I honestly don't know yet," she answered, trying to be as vague as possible so the boy wouldn't worry. "That's why I'm going to go check it out. Just stay here and stay inside, even if the rain lets up."

"The only place I'd even think about going right now would be Granny's. I'm getting pretty hungry and at least she could throw together a sandwich…"

"You can raid my snack drawer," she chuckled. "I'm not going to worry about you spoiling your dinner tonight."

"Okay! Good luck with your investigation."

"Thanks, kid. I've got a feeling I'm going to need it…" she lamented as she gave a slight flick of her wrist and vanished in a puff of grey smoke.

**********

Brow knitted in a blend of confusion and apprehension, she approached the vehicle with caution. It might be the middle of nowhere, in the middle of a thunderstorm, but this was still Storybrooke. She'd learned the hard way that anything could happen here at any time so a Savior-Sheriff had to be prepared. While she didn't see anything out of the ordinary through the rear window, aside from the fact there were no visible heads above the seats, she wasn't going to rush.

"Killian?" she called out as she inched towards the car, sloshing through puddles that were soaking through her boots. If she'd come all the way out here to find him curled up sleeping in the back seat of the cruiser…

Only she found the back seat empty once she finally had a view through the side window and the front seat was unoccupied as well. A quick glance through the driver's side window revealed the keys in the ignition as expected but it also appeared that the dash camera had been turned on. So, this was a traffic stop? Then where in the hell was her husband?

Her first instinct was to yank open the driver's side door and climb inside but her instincts led her to take a moment and do a precursory inspection of the scene first. While the rain would have washed away any tire tracks or footprints, her gut told her that there might be other clues and it didn't take long for her to locate the first one when the toe of her boot kicked something out of a puddle next to the front tire.

Something that looked strangely like a cell phone.

She discarded the currently useless umbrella as she stooped to retrieve the phone and winced as she sliced open the pad of her thumb on a sliver of shattered glass. She wasn't surprised to find that the device was dead, which could have resulted from it hitting the ground, but the damage was definitely hastened by the rain. Killian must have dropped it. That's why he wasn't answering the calls. It just didn't explain his disappearance.

Placing the useless phone onto the hood of the cruiser, she continued her survey of the area and walked around to the front of the car. She noted that the passenger side tire was flat which provided another small clue. Trying to change a flat tire during a thunderstorm with one hand and a hook wouldn't have been a safe thing to do, but this small fact raised as many questions as it answered. She lifted her head and stared out at the expanse of dense forest that extended for miles on either side of the highway although she couldn't imagine that Killian would have been crazy enough to venture out there in this weather, even if it was in pursuit of a suspect.

No, there had to be some other explanation. Some important piece of this puzzle was missing, she thought as she tugged open the passenger side door of the car and flopped onto the seat, thankful to be out of the rain for even just a little while. Her eyes immediately went to the dashcam that, from outside of the car, had appeared to be recording. Up close, she could see that the Recording light was indeed illuminated although the LED display screen had turned off. She'd only had these things installed in the cruiser and in the Bug a few months ago so she wasn't entirely sure if the screen was in standby mode or if it was malfunctioning, but she was thankful that at least Killian had remembered to turn the thing on.

She fumbled with different buttons surrounding the screen for a few tense moments trying to figure out how to make it stop recording and switch to playback. She really should have read the whole manual when she put these in... There wasn't time to hunt through it right now but somehow, she managed to get it working. As the screen lit up, the grainy, black and white display showed that there was two hours and sixteen minutes of footage, a lot more elapsed time than a traffic stop should have taken. It was also right about the time that the storm front would have reached Storybrooke.

An eerie sense of dread washed over her as she pressed the Play button and the digital replay opened to a view of a parked, dark-colored sedan. She'd have to see the footage on a bigger screen to make out more of the detail but it appeared to be a Toyota. She was just happy that she could make out the digits in the license plate even if she'd have to take a guess on the state. It definitely wasn't a Maine or Massachusetts tag. She'd be able to recognize either of those but hazarding a guess, she thought it was probably New Hampshire.

There was no sound to accompany the video so there was no way for her to know exactly what was being said as she watched the image of Killian walking casually up to the driver's window of the stopped sedan. She could see that there was a short conversation before Killian took a step backward and then suddenly staggered out of the camera's view. Emma's breath hitched in her throat as a man appeared at the passenger side of the dark sedan, climbing into the vehicle just before its engine started up, the driver leaned out of the window, brandishing what looked like a gun for a few seconds, and then the car peeled away and disappeared down the lonely highway.

What the hell did I just watch? The feed was too blurry for her to get a good view of the driver and she had only a few fleeting glimpses of the other suspect's profile. Had they shot out the front tire? It seemed pretty likely but what had caused Killian to fall out of the frame? Why hadn't he called this in?

Had they shot him?

She fast-forwarded the footage a few minutes ahead to see an image of Killian stumbling awkwardly back toward the cruiser and then slumping against the front end. His dark clothing may have obscured any overt signs of injury but the distressed expression on his face revealed all she needed to know. He was hurt and she had no way of knowing how severely based on the video.

He slid out of the camera's range again and she continued to press the fast-forward button until she saw his hook catch onto the void between the hood and the frame and his face appeared in front of the camera. He looked unsteady on his feet, his features scrunched in agony. At one point, he looked directly into the camera, eyes pleading for help that wasn't coming. And then he pushed himself away from the car and staggered out of the camera's line of sight again. She forwarded all the way to the end of the feed and he didn't reappear.

"Oh, god, Killian… Where are you?" she asked aloud, not that she expected anyone to hear her.

He had to have been shot. It was the only thing that made any sense, but everything had happened so fast... Why hadn't he called for help? Had he broken his phone during the altercation or had he dropped it later because his hand was too shaky? Why didn't he get in the car and use the radio? Even if he hadn't reached her at the station, he could have contacted the State Police over the emergency channel. Had he not remembered how to do it or which channel he was supposed to use? She couldn't even imagine what must have been going through his mind but if it was anything like the panic she was experiencing just watching this on replay, she wasn't even sure if she could recall which channel was the emergency one.

She grabbed the radio's microphone from its cradle and depressed the button on the side, hoping that her dad had arrived at the Sheriff station by now. She was going to need his assistance.

"David, are you there? Over." She released the button and waited impatiently for his response.

"Emma - I'm here," he replied after a few short seconds. "Did you find anything out there? Over."

"The cruiser, yes. Killian - no." Her response was blunt and she allowed enough of a pause for David to know she was done with the formal radio etiquette.

"Damn…" was the first response she heard before David realized he'd pushed down on the button too soon. "Any indication of what happened?"

"Thankfully, Killian remembered to turn on the dashcam. He made a traffic stop and apparently, there was an altercation. I'm going to need you to call the State Police and see if they can run a plate for us while our systems are down."

"Sure. Just give me the tag number. And just what do you mean by altercation?"

She dodged his question and provided just the necessary facts. "Vehicle is a dark sedan, likely a recent-model Toyota. Plate is New Hampshire, I think. J73 422."

David knew instinctively that something must be wrong for her to avoid his question but he didn't press her for it. "Got it. Should we have them put out an All Points for the car? If so, what reason are we giving them?"

"Possible officer-involved shooting," she replied as matter-of-factly as her current state of mind would allow. She could picture the look on her father's face right now though as he processed her statement.

"Can you repeat that?" his voice begged over the tinny radio speaker.

"It looks like the driver may have shot Killian but I can't verify that until I find him, and that's what I need to do… Have them put out an APB for the vehicle which was occupied by two men. Unfortunately, I don't have a better description. The dashcam video screen is just too small and too fuzzy."

"Will do, Emma. Where do you think he went? There's a lot of forest out there…"

"But there's only one farmhouse. I think he would have headed towards Zelena's place."

"It's not very far but why would he leave the cruiser behind and go on foot if he'd been shot?"

"The suspects shot out the front tire. His phone's shattered and I have no idea why he didn't try to radio for help. I just know that he'd try his damnedest to reach the closest place he thought he could get help."

"I'll put the call in to the State Police. You go find your husband and Henry and I will man the fort here. Your mother sent a three course meal and a thermos of hot cocoa with cinnamon with me so we're well provisioned until we know what's going on."

"Thanks," she replied, managing a weak smile as she replaced the microphone into the cradle on the side of the radio and reached over to turn off the cruiser's engine. She slipped the keys into her pocket figuring she'd worry about retrieving the vehicle later. She didn't need a car to reach the former Wicked Witch's farmhouse.

[jay-me-says]

Things Were Different Back Then

CHAPTER THREE: Tension

Masterpost w/ more info on the fic | Note: all SBI-related relationships here are platonic!

Tubbo wakes with the sun. He hadn’t shut his curtains last night, and the window opposite his bed casts a bright, amber light over him. Despite being tired, and annoyed by the interruption to his sleep, he finds it in him to appreciate how the early morning sun turns his bedspread to flame. He turns his fingers around in the patch of light. It’s like he’s dipping them in magic. The red bandanna Tommy gave him has been sitting on his headboard for weeks, a small comfort in the time his friend was gone. The orange sunlight makes it look especially warm and vibrant.

After lying in bed for a few minutes more, staring at the square of orange light on his covers and skin, Tubbo forces himself out of bed and to his wardrobe. He dresses at a snail’s pace in black dress pants, a pastel green button-up, and a vest in such a dark shade of green one could mistake it for black from a distance. With a black tie in hand, Tubbo sleepily walks out to the living room so he can put on his tie in front of the mirror. The consequences of staying at the bench with Tommy so late last night are catching up to him. Worth it, he thinks.

In the middle of fidgeting with his tie, trying to get it just right, someone opens the door, startling the boy. A brief shot of adrenaline rushes through him as he whips around to look at the front door. His surprise turns to relief and then confusion when he sees Tommy coming through the door. He thought his friend was still asleep in bed- he certainly should be after last night. “Jeez, Tommy. You scared the hell out of me. Where were you so early?”

Walter pads over the couch and hops up, head resting on the arm nearest the mirror. Tubbo doesn’t mind. He reaches out to pet the dog’s big, white head. Tommy plops down on the couch next to Walter as he speaks. “I went for a walk,” he says, then yawns. Henry II squawks from his shoulder in protest of all the sudden movement.  Tommy pets his little, green head apologetically. “Sorry, mate,” he murmurs.

“Well, are you up to going to that meeting with Fundy and Niki today?” Tubbo asks, turning back to the mirror to work on his tie. “We’re planning out the next few rebuilding projects. You don’t have to go, but I figured it would be nice for you to come along. Might help ease you back into things.”

There’s silence for a moment as Tommy thinks it over, then, “Yeah. Yeah, that might be good. When is it though? I think I’ll take a nap if I have the time.  

He must’ve been out really early this morning, Tubbo thinks. “It’s at nine o’clock, at Fundy’s again. So you have a few hours.”

“Right, then. See you in a few hours.” Tommy trudges off to his room with Henry II still on his shoulder. Walter remains on the couch. Tubbo gives the dog one last pat, then heads into the kitchen. He’ll make some soup, he decides. He can reheat some for Tommy after his nap.

Tubbo sets about cooking, glad to have something to do to fill some of the extra time brought on by his early start to the day.

~

The sound of knocking rolls through the house. Fundy gets up to answer the door, knowing it must be the other council members arriving for the meeting, but his grandfather beats him to it.

When he sees Tommy at the door with the others, the fox is a little surprised. He had only expected Tubbo and Niki, especially after yesterday’s conversation. He supposes it makes some sense, though. Tommy should know what they’ve been up to before reclaiming his seat on the council.

After Gramps has warmly greeted Tubbo and Niki and given Tommy a big hug, Fundy leads them to the kitchen. For the second day in a row, they sit at the table and talk.  

Niki places a book on the table in front of her and opens it to a recent page of handwritten notes. Loopy brown font scrolls across the creamy pages. The margins are packed with little symbols and arrows connecting extra notes to lines of text. Fundy wonders if the book would quite make sense to anyone but her.

Readjusting in her seat, she says, “I jotted down some things with Quackity yesterday while we were walking around. We saw a lot, but I want to highlight a few of the things we thought were most pressing.

“First, the water level in the crater is starting to rise with each bout of rain. It is shallow so far, but once it fills up more, we’ll get Drowned spawning. It would be easy for us to fight them off when need be, but it would be safer and more convenient to light the area up before they get the chance to spawn.”

Fundy feels sort of sick at the mention of the destruction his father had caused, but pushes it away and tries to focus on the discussion.

“We could chain up some lanterns,” Tubbo suggests.

“Or use sea pickles,” says Fundy. “It might be easier than dealing with scaffolding and screwing in hooks for chains.”

“You’re right, nice thinking. I’m pretty sure I have some tucked away somewhere, but we could ask for people to chip in anyways.”

Niki marks a little circle next to a line of writing in her book. “I can send out some letters after the meeting asking for help.”

She tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear and continues, “Next, there’s a strip of open land near Party Island. It’s in a spot that would be easy to connect to the paths, so it’s a good place to add something. Quackity and I were throwing around ideas yesterday and our favorite was turning it into a community garden. We could plant flowers and trees and set up some benches. And there could be a designated spot to grow a few crops, like berries and potatoes. Everyone has been good about getting their own food, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep an extra source around.”

“That would be good.” Tubbo shifts in his chair and leans forwards a little. “We could put a chest near the crops and stock it with bonemeal. But that might require us to build a skeleton farm.”  

The four of them go around like that for a while, planning out and prioritizing new projects. Niki and Tubbo do most of the talking, but Fundy and Tommy contribute where they find it useful. Once they’ve gone through Niki’s list, they help her write out notes to the citizens of L’manburg, calling for help and sea pickles, as well as a few letters asking specific people for help with projects.

When they’re all done, Niki closes her book and stands from the table. “That’s everything taken care of for today. I’ll hand these letters off to Ponk to be delivered as soon as possible.” Tubbo and Tommy say bye to Fundy, then leave the kitchen, heading for the front door.

Niki hangs back for a moment, though. She reaches into her book and hands Fundy some loose papers she pulls out. Her promise rings from Puffy sparkles brilliantly in the daylight streaming in from a nearby window. “Will you read over these for me? It’s a few drafts for some of the laws we spoke about last time. I’d give them to Tommy and Tubbo, but you’re better with words than any of us. Figured I would use your skills while we still have you on the council.”

Fundy nods as he takes the papers, glad to have something useful to do. “Yeah, I can do that. Of course.”

Niki thanks him with a smile, then follows Tubbo and Tommy to the door.

Fundy feels good about the meeting. Being on the council had never been something he wanted to do, but it came with certain perks. Like the satisfaction that came as the reward of a productive meeting.

Still, he’ll be relieved when Tommy takes his post back. The only reason he’d agreed to this in the first place was that Tommy and Tubbo asked him to. “No person I would rather have fill my spot while I’m gone. I trust you,” Tommy had said. So, of course, Fundy had said yes.

Although he knew if Tubbo wasn’t already on the council Tommy would’ve gone to the brunette first, it still felt nice to be trusted. He’d been worried he would have trouble earning back trust after the war. For a while, Fundy had posed as a Schlatt supporter, gathering information about the dictator to smuggle back to Pogtopia at the right time. No one else had known he was faking. Much to his relief, he’d been able to slide back into his spot as a citizen of L’manburg easily after the Second Revolution. He was sure a few people had their doubts at first, but as hard as he had worked as a council member this past month, he doubted anyone could question his loyalty anymore. Or he hoped, at least.

Just as Fundy stands to go to his room, planning to start reading over Niki’s papers, Wilbur appears in the doorway again, like he did yesterday. He wears a gray shirt and eyebags.

The tall man is silent for a beat too long to make it not awkward, and Fundy is considering asking him what’s up when he finally speaks. “You could speak up a little more in meetings, you know. Tommy and Tubbo asked for you to fill in because they trust you and value your opinion.”

The critique annoys the fox. His dad is sort of right, but it feels like the only thing he talks to him about anymore is the council. Fundy knows he was never born to lead, and that’s one of the reasons he’ll be glad when Tommy takes his post back. The other is that Wilbur will finally stop talking to him about it.

Maybe it’s his attempt at bonding, the little pieces of advice. Wilbur was a leader once, too. Maybe his father wants to draw a connection between them because of that. But Fundy doesn’t want his father’s advice on improving his leadership skills, he wants his father to have a normal conversation with him. They never talk anymore. Throughout his life, Fundy had always been able to talk to Wilbur about whatever- nonsense, any questions that came to mind. They’d lost that somewhere. Now it was all stiff limbs and awkward comments back and forth.

“I could. I say what I think would be helpful. When I think of more ideas and helpful things to say, I will say them.” Fundy allows his annoyance to seep into his voice, then instantly regrets it. As frustrated as he is with him, the sting on his father’s face makes him want to pluck the words back out of the air and stuff them into the garbage.

Wordlessly, Wilbur walks out of the kitchen and down the hall. A few seconds later, Fundy hears his father’s bedroom door gently close behind him.

Another successful conversation for the books.

~

Tommy had been relieved this morning when Tubbo hadn’t asked where he’d been. He truly didn’t want to explain to his friend that he hadn’t gone to bed. He feels relieved again that their present conversation is staying away from the topic.

It’s just them two now, Niki having gone back home after they left Philza’s. They walk the paths of L’manburg, chatting about the meeting. Which projects they’re most excited for, how soon they think others will be done, what they want to tackle next.

Tubbo is rambling about some ideas he has for the community garden when Tommy realizes where they’re heading. The docks. Tommy thinks about last night and how long he had stood there, letting the waves spray his arms. He hadn’t realized how late he had been out until he’d noticed the horizon turning pink, drawing his attention to his knees, which were stiff from being in the same position for hours. They still ache a little.

Tubbo must realize he’s gone a bit quiet, because he stops talking and follows Tommy’s gaze, then smiles brightly. “I haven’t been here in ages!” he yells.

The brunette takes off for the edge of the docks at a jog. The almost childlike excitement makes Tommy smile and he sets off after Tubbo.

When he catches up, he leans against one of the logs like he’d done last night. He takes one of his pointer fingers and absently rubs patterns across the rough surface. Tubbo is talking, and Tommy tries to pay attention, but continuously finds himself zoning out. He’s still tired, and he can’t seem to push his brothers out of his thoughts. It makes him a little angry. Damn Wilbur for taking up so much space in my head.

Like always, despite Tommy’s best attempts to hide it, Tubbo notices how his friend has shut down. The shorter boy places a gentle hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “You look a bit drained. Do you want to head back to my place? I have to visit with Big Q, but you could stay in and rest for a while.”

Tommy nods, grateful for the out. The pair head back to Tubbo’s. When they get in the door, the brunette half-jokingly orders Tommy off to the guest room before leaving again. Tommy obeys, finding Walter already occupying most of the mattress. He shoves the wall of white fluff over a little, then climbs in next to him and buries his face in his dog’s coat.

Curled up at a weird angle to accommodate Walter, Tommy lets himself feel all the bad stuff. The guilt, the sadness, the anger. He lets it all overflow inside of him, making his heart ache and his eyes glisten. Eventually, the comfort of the bed and the residual strains of exhaustion from a sleepless night take over, pulling him in and out of dreamless sleep.

~

It wasn’t really a lie when Tubbo told Tommy he had to talk to Quackity. He does need to fill in the secretary of state about how the meeting today went and what they’d decided to do. But it could’ve waited, or he could’ve sent a carrier parrot.

Mostly, it was an excuse. He’d wanted time alone to think and to worry. Tommy kept slipping away from him. First at the mention of Wilbur, then at the docks. He would just recede into his own head and that would be it for the conversation. It’s properly worrying Tubbo now, but he doesn’t know what to do for his friend.

The president walks vaguely in the direction of Quackity’s house as he mulls over the Tommy Thing. It feels like no time has passed at all when he realizes that he’s nearly walked right by his destination.

Tubbo backtracks a few steps and goes up to Quackity’s door, then knocks.

The sound of footsteps approaching comes from the other side of the heavy spruce, then the door swings inward to reveal the secretary of state, dressed casually in a hoodie and his signature beanie. A grin cracks his face at the sight of Tubbo. “Hey, man! How’s it going? Come in!”

A small smile tugs on the president’s lips as he greets his friend. Big Q’s energy is infectious, and there’s always so much of it that one could almost reach a hand into the air and grab a fistful of it. It fills Tubbo’s stomach with a certain lightness that floats up into his chest.

Quackity steps to the side to let him by and Tubbo enters the house. A short hallway ends in a living room, with open doorways on either side of the space leading off to other areas of the house. The secretary of state steps past Tubbo and flops down on the couch, gesturing for Tubbo to take a seat. The president makes himself comfortable on the armchair across from him.

“So, how’d the meeting today go? Did Niki tell you about the community garden idea?” Quackity asks.

“Yeah, we all thought it was a good plan. We were discussing keeping some chests of bonemeal by a designated crop area, but we’ll need a skeleton farm for that.” Tubbo goes on to explain the more important details of the meeting to Quackity, getting cut off when he mentions that Tommy was there.

“Wait, I thought Niki said he wasn’t going to get back into council stuff yet,” he says, absently fidgeting with one of the strings on his blue hoodie while he speaks. One of his legs is up on the couch, tucked into his chest with his chin sitting on top of his knee.

“He isn’t- well, not really. Fundy is still officially filling in for him for another week. But we thought it would be a good idea for him to come with us to council meetings. Just to ease him back into things before taking on the full responsibilities again.”

Quackity is silent for a few seconds. The hoodie string lies limp in his now-still hand. His eyes flit up and down Tubbo’s face, studying his expression. Nerves flutter in the president’s stomach, wondering what the other boy is thinking. He’s about to ask what’s wrong when Quackity finally speaks. “Something’s up, man. What’s going on?”  

Tubbo sighs and leans back into the chair a little, caught. He doesn’t even consider whether or not to tell Big Q. The secretary of state had been a good friend to him, always willing to help or lend an ear, and they’d grown closer this past month. Tubbo felt safe talking to him about it.

“It’s Tommy. He’s been sort of off since he’s been back. I’m getting kind of worried.”

Quackity cocks his head to the side. “Off how?”

“He’s been zoning out a lot. Like, one minute he’s talking just fine and the next he’s dropped the conversation completely.”

The other boy is quiet for a moment, readjusting his beanie while he thinks on his response. “I’m sure he just needs more time to get settled. He only got back a few days ago and there must be a lot of memories here for him to deal with. Give him some time to process. And if it’s really bothering you, talk to him. He’ll open up to you if you ask.”

Tubbo thinks about that for a moment, absorbing the advice. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right. Thanks, Big Q, I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, Tubbo.” After a pause, he says, “Honestly, I’m kind of surprised you aren’t the same way Tommy is. You were there through everything, too. All the wars, the explosions. And you were close to Techno and Wilbur, too.”

The president hadn’t really considered that before. He felt he had grieved his losses already, but he suspected there would always be a sharp ache in his chest when he thought of Techno. What he wouldn’t give to horribly fail at practice fights against him again.

Quackity and Tubbo return to the topic of the council meeting, then simply chat about whatever comes to mind for another hour or so. When Tubbo leaves, his stomach hurts from laughing and he feels a bit better. The brunette walks home in the bright late afternoon sunlight, thinking about the advice Quackity had given him. He should talk to Tommy. If only he could gather the courage.

~

For once, Wilbur decided to go to bed at a semi-acceptable hour. He’d pulled plenty of all-nighters in the last month, reading his books well past sundown, but his dad had forced him to bed earlier than normal last night and it had disturbed his unusual sleep schedule.

As he’s about to enter his room, he notices a shaft of light poking out of his son’s room from down the hall. Wondering what he’s doing up so late, Wilbur goes to check on him.

He finds Fundy sitting cross-legged on his bed, looking through a stack of papers atop the cyan sheets. He seems tired. His ears dip ever so slightly and his eyes, peering at the writing, are half-closed.

“What’re you up to?”

Fundy glances up at his father, then looks back down to his papers. “Niki asked me to read over some things for her. Figured I would get to it now since we’ll be out helping for a while tomorrow.” The fox stifles a yawn.

Wilbur had received a note from a carrier parrot earlier, like he assumed the rest of L’manburg had. The note stated that the council was in need of volunteers and sea pickles to help do some mob-proofing under the Stilted Sector, as the section of L’manburg built over the crater had been nicknamed. Wilbur, Fundy, and Philza would all be pitching in. Though, Wilbur’s stomach filled with a certain dread at the thought of being that close to the destruction he had caused.

“Exactly why you should get some sleep soon. It’ll be a lot of work tomorrow,” he says.

“Yeah, okay, Dad.”

Wilbur could’ve sliced through the tension in the room with a sword. He can hardly remember the last time he’d managed to get through a real conversation with his son. He always managed to mess up somehow. But he supposed he deserved it for everything he’d put Fundy, and so many others, through.

Unable to see a way to salvage this pathetic attempt at an exchange, Wilbur awkwardly mumbles a goodnight and heads off to his own bedroom. He forgoes any sort of prep and dives straight for the comfort of the cozy bed and his favorite blankets.

‘

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[imagine-loki]

The Slutty Web One Weaves

Title : The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Chapter NO. 7 of 10?

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s Asgardian wife learns women write fanfiction about him on a trip to Midgard. She’s edgy for the duration and lets him have it when they get back.

Author: lokilover9

Rating: M

Astrid apologized, agreed to everything and Thor lead them to a location to hide their vehicle.

"Loki will be pleased to know your helping."

"I should have thought to from the start." She regrettably admitted.

Frigga hugged him. "Thank you for agreeing to take her back should this fail." ***** For eight days, their plan worked until her Father paid the palace an unexpected visit.

Odin was in the front courtyard boasting to some Einherjar about beating an Embassador at charades, when their commander, Nedvar, interrupted. "Ignoramus at twelve o'clock, Sire."

The King groaned. "Splendid. It's Rodderick the dipshit."

"Give the word and we'll pitch him over the wall."

"Tempting, but what do I tell my daughter in law?" Odin hated the occasionally unkempt Lord who preferred perfuming to bathing and greeted him from behind a hedge. "Welcome Roddy. I look so forward to your unscheduled visits."

The disdain was mutual with Roddy feeling Astrid could've done better than wed whom he considered a criminal, Prince or not. "Greetings, Heiness. Might you be so kind as to share the knowledge of when your son intends to return?"

Astrid's parents had two daughters, her being the youngest and known to the Royals as her Father's least favorite.

"That depends on whom you miss more. Asgards lovely Duchess, or my son? Her beloved pardoned Prince. I can give either a message."

"Miss? Impossible as Astrid's practically taken up residence again. Should I relay you wish she ceased luring her Mother from bed crying, or send her home to disturb your sleep?"

"I wasn't aware she'd returned from Midgard. Has age required you hearing aids, or were you night prowling in hopes of accessing Ingrid's locked bedchambers again?"

Roddy frowned and crassly replied. "The lovely Duchess returned with Frigga. Is your wife telling lies, Allfather? Mine would never."

Odin cackled. 'Festering dimwit. Ingrid is banging my valet.' "You shall regard Frigga as 'Queen' and with utmost respect."

"My apologies. She is celestial, yet your defensiveness is revealing."

Roddy liked poking subtle jabs at the Royals and assumed Astrid a barrier to consequence. Most were directed at Loki and the King, but he'd worn Odin's patience too thin. "Insult anyone in my family again, including your daughter and face repercussions. Be gone, Rodderick."

"So soon?"

Odin's jaw clenched. "Leave egghead before I crack it on the pavement. Nedvar, escort him to the gate."

"Gladly, Sire."

Roddy followed, hardly perturbed. "One might expect the offering of a beverage after a stuffy carriage ride."

The commander jolted the gate closed. "Try opening a window Lord Heskin. If you're thirsty, there's a pub nearby rumored to host naked wrestling in the basement. Some days it's ladies, others gents. Enjoy."

When Odin entered their chambers bellowing to the Allmother, her lady in waiting sent word through a chain of servants to a handsomely paid Stableman. Familiar with an alternate route to Astrid's parents, he arrived ahead of Roddy and rushed her to the observatory.

Thor received her call and left immediately. 'Shite, brother. Where art thou?' ***** Following two days in Paris, Loki and Brianna cruised Lake Laguno in Switzerlandand. She questioned him about Asgard and her grandparents, yet when asking the circumstances behind his adoption, Loki spun a tale of half truth.

"Jotunheim had a King named Laufey who owned a magical cube that opened bridges to every realm. Long ago, he used it to attack Earth. Grandfather bravely defended your realm, forced his army back to Jotunheim and demanded he relinquish the cube. Laufey refused and continued attacking Asgards army until most of his people died. Grandfather found me alone amidst the rubble and decided to adopt me."

"You didn't tell him who your parents were?"

"I was an infant and the only survivor for miles."

"Where was Laufey?"

"He'd gone into hiding like a scaredy cat."

Instead of finding his comment amusing, anger washed over Brianna. "He abandoned a helpless baby to freeze? Introduce us and I'll use him as target practice."

Loki booped her nose. "I'm honored you wish to avenge me, but Laufey died and still suffers in the afterlife."

"How?"

"King scaredy cat will never have the privilege of meeting you."

Brianna smiled. "Or you. Was Grandfather hurt?"

"He lost an eye, but recovered nicely."

In Amsterdam, they visited the Artis zoo with over 900 species of little animals, an aquarium, planetarium and Zoological Museum. Further confirmation Brianna's his was how quickly she learned enormous amounts information and remembered the smallest details when later initiating a quiz. Since confessing to the burglaries, Loki was curious how she knew the homeowners were abroad and worked it into their conversation.

She replied like it was all in a day's work. "Dory accompanied me to different parks in fancy neighborhoods around Jersey, posing as my babysitter. Between eavesdropping on adults and questioning kids, it's amazing what you can learn inside a sandbox."

"Questions of what nature?"

"Like, 'I'm new to the neighborhood and love my big house. Where do you live?' Or, 'I'm going to visit my aunt Matilda's lavender farm to make soap.'"

"How was that helpful?"

"Most thought it dull and bragged of their families planning grander trips. Once attaining addresses and dates, I'd stake out their houses and proceed from there."

"Ah. With Dory as the lookout?"

"I left her in shelters or nearby motels. She never figured out how I managed, but by the third burglary, stopped worrying whenever I'd sneak away and send her a text." His eyes widened and Brianna rose a palm. "Dory lacked powers and I wouldn't risk her arrested because of me."

Why lecture when she'd acted out of desperation to find him? "You're a good friend, Og Min Lille."

"Thanks. I regret the stealing, but pranking the authorities was fun."

Loki thought it something innocent like tipping off their hats, but discovered her mischievousness paralleled her intelligence.

"I always struck at night and at one house, four police were investigating inside when I turned on the lights, flushed every toilet and set off their sirens. At the third, I poured a large olive oil path onto the kitchen floor, slammed a pantry door and watched two come running. One slid into it and fell, while the other amusingly contorted himself until the first tripped him. They sure swear a lot for the good guys."

"Brianna." He playfully scolded. "Say you did nothing worse."

"I'd be lying."

"Oh?"

"At the last house, the master bedroom had black drapes and life size models of a lion, wolf and a fang baring polar bear on its hind legs. Weird people. After aligning them near the door, I closed it, extinguished the lights and tripped the alarm. The police came, shone a flashlight inside and from the foyer, I made the bear roar."

Loki chuckled. "Did they scream?"

"And shot the bear."

"What?!" He led her someplace quiet. "From now on young lady, all pranks must meet my approval or…" While pondering means of discipline, he blurted what first came to mind. "...All shoulder and piggy back rides are discontinued."

He made both fun, thought Brianna. Bumping into things when her hands covered his eyes, then flipping her over his head for tickles. Or feigning valiant attempts at shaking her off to escape enslavement.

~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~ "Have mercy and release me!" He pleaded, captured during a picnic.

Brianna popped him on the head with her fake sword, a stick with a bushel of leaves at its tip. "Cease your begging, pheasant! I rule this realm, appoint you my new zombie slayer and hunter of all things chocolate. Fail and be fed to puppies!"

Loki set her down and knelt on one knee with a hand to his chest. "A frightful demise your majesty of cuteness. I humbly accept."

"Daddy, I'm supposed to be fierce."

"Eh he he he. Sorry." ~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~

Brianna deliberated his threat and wittingly proclaimed. "Are you not the God of Mischief and I your offspring?"

He arched a brow. 'Don't laugh or she'll never take you seriously.' "I mean it."

Brianna had already pulled some under his nose. A boy who'd aggressively budded before her at a park slide discovered his shoelaces tied together after nose diving into the sand. A woman at a restaurant who harshly berated a server had red wine spilled onto her Gucci bag. Minor sprinklings of karma she happily administered.

"But you're still a prankster."

"Rarely and without endangering anyone." 'Shite. I'll need to keep that fib under wraps.'

Brianna crossed fingers behind her back and feigned defeat. "O-kay. Can I have a snow cone now?" ***** After seeing the Northern lights in Norway, they'd returned to their hotel where she became oddly sombre.

"Has something upset you?" Loki asked.

"During our travels, I've seen many people with children. It's obvious they're loved, but my family..why, Daddy?"

Her pain pierced Loki's heart as she clung to him. "People can do terrible things for incomprehensible reasons, but you're my little girl now and I'm overjoyed you've come into my life."

When her tears ceased, she unexpectedly opened up about the women. Her first memory was of Jillian singing her to sleep at age three. She and Claudia taught her to talk, walk, bathe and dress herself, brought her toys, fictional and educational books. Yet it was Jillian who'd paid her the most attention, their visits consistently monitored by Hannah. A person so controlling and void of sentiment, Brianna wondered how the trio became friends. The woman opposed their closeness and the first time Brianna defended her Mother, she was forbidden upstairs without Hannah present, who ordered Claudia to report otherwise. This became impossible when the two landed full time jobs. With Jillian delegated homemaker, Hannah was forced to trust her. Over the past year, she'd broadened Brianna's computer knowledge, snuck her for walks to a hidden trail entrance off the main road she'd marked with glow in the dark tape, taught her outdoor safety and survival skills and always stressed keeping everything secret, especially Brianna's magic or Hannah would separate them for good.

"Jillian knew of your powers? Why have you never mentioned any of this?"

Brianna frowned. "She bread me to thicken her purse. No amount of secrets and added kindness makes that excusable or her worthy of commeding."

An undeniable fact Loki avoided arguing. His daughter was hurting and preaching Jillian might've experienced a change of heart could impede their relationship.

She halted his conflictual thoughts by bashfully asking. "Do 'you' love me?"

"Very much, Brianna."

"Can I stay with you forever? Please? I'll move to Asgard."

Loki doubted she comprehended the gravity of her words. "Forever doesn't mean a month long visit as we previously discussed. It involves permanently residing on another realm thousands of miles from Earth where the landscape, culture, even people's wardrobe's are entirely unfamiliar."

"I know. Devoid of space travel, would it be any different if I moved to India, Antarctica or say..Bhutan?"

"I suppose not. I'm sorry, Bhutan?"

"It's a small country just south of China. I memorized Earth's geography and most of its cultures in one month."

"Very good." 'Genius supreme. I must catch up.' "Then you're willing?"

She yawned, proudly raising her chin. "Affirmative. I'd like to see those sandbox dwellers top that adventure."

Incredibly relieved, Loki chuckled. "You've ten remaining seconds to gloat, sleepyhead. Ten..nine.….three, two, one."

"Hey, you said those last digits awfully fast."

"It's time for vampire pajamas, your fierce and Royal Highness."

"A story too? Will you conjure The Empty Grave by Jonathan Stroud?"

"The Empty 'what?'" He amusingly queried. "No way, Jose. I've chosen three options of popular children's literature from the internet. The Cat in the Hat, Whinnie the Pooh, a rather peculiar name for a bear and Charlotte's Web."

"Isn't the last tale about a spider?"

"Yes."

"They're creepy. I choose that one."

'Mother would be impressed.' "Hurry then before zombies find us and eat my brains!"

Brianna shouted from the bathroom. "Nobody hurts my Daddy! Huyya! Take that you fiendish barbarians! Uh oh."

Loki rushed in upon hearing glass crack and found her standing on the bathtub ledge. "What did you do?"

"I was pretending to fight them off with my hairbrush when it flew from my hand, struck that picture and landed in the toilet."

He laughed renewing both with magic. "Your toothbrush is safe, yes?"

Loki finally thought her asleep when she reached out for a hug.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I forgot to say I love you too. Goodnight."

His heart swelled twice its size. "Goodnight, Og Min Lille." ***** Next they ventured to London and a budding lover of history, Brianna asked to visit The British Museum. While viewing a dinosaur skeleton from an upper walkway, she pointed into the crowd below.

"Daddy, isn't that Tony?"

He took a gander. "Well, well. Iron Man it be."

"Who's the strange lady he's with?"

"Pepper, darling. She often wears wigs to avoid recognition."

Her eyes brightened. "Please, can we say hello?"

"Inconspicuously. I'll him send a text." Daddy concealed his phone. 'Greetings kinky crossdresser. What brings you to Londinium?'

'Loki???'

'Yes. Act casual, we're hiding.'

'Holy shit! We're on vacation and at the Savoy in the Royal Suite. Can you meet us there ASAP? It's important.'

'We're on the ninth floor. Rendezvous in an hour?'

'Ha! We'll be there with balls on!'

'Come again?'

'🤪 Bells, dammit! Bells!'

'😂 Brianna can't wait.'

Tony hurriedly guided Pepper through the crowd. "Excuse us..pardon us..excuse us."

"Where's the fire?" She whispered.

"Daddy Snowflake's in town. Hustle, Butch." ***** Their door opened and Brianna ran to him. "Uncle Cootyoodles!"

"Little Warrior! Am I happy to see you!"

The couple listened with enthusiasm about everywhere she'd been, then Tony asked to speak with Loki alone.

Virginia led her into their bedroom. "Wait 'till you see all the cool stuff I bought."

"That'll keep her busy." Said Stark. "Pepper's a London shopaholic. So why the vanishing act? Thor called me."

Loki scoffed. "I did tell him not to."

"Don't be angry. Astrid returned and wanted to contact me."

"Why? You knew nothing."

"She didn't believe him. Neither did your Mother and Thor worried they'd show up at the Tower."

"What?! Our Mother came to Midgard in search of me? Shit..shit!"

Stark told him everything and Loki's face was unreadable. "Nope. There's nothing weird about staring like I've grown a nipple on my face."

"Did I mention it's pierced? You're saying 'my' brother, Shakespeare in the park, lied that extensively for me?"

"Yes and sent them back to your Dad to expand on it. What's everyone's problem with an awesome six year old anyway? Is that why you didn't go home?"

"Becoming a parent, you're suddenly bombarded with complex decisions centered around one tiny person you never fathomed loving so deeply, much less an indisputable desire to protect above all else."

Stark smiled. "Look at you. The master of Sheisterism all growed up..whose dodged my question."

Loki sunk into a chair. "Maturity aside, my life is a mess. Asgards people still regard me a traitor, Astrid and I are constantly arguing and it's completely unfair of me to expect she Mother a child she didn't bare and Odin's my grandest worry for classified reasons I've become an insomniac over. I can't subject Brianna to that. Her life has been dreadful enough."

"Not anymore. She has you now. I endured shitloads of public and political outrage over changes to Stark Industries. 'Wealth aside', I thought it my doom. People adjust and opinions fade. Astrid will come around once they meet. Look at the number Little Warrior did on us."

"She 'is' irresistibly charming."

"Whatever gramps issue is, arrange for her a few rounds with the old coot. She'll straighten him out."

Loki smirked, picturing Brianna dancing circles around the Allfather. "My Mother would buy ring side seats."

"See? The bulk of your family is on your side. Let them help."

"As appealing as that sounds, Astrid will expect hours of explanation I haven't the energy to convey. I love her, but she 'is' a drama queen."

"Eligible for an academy award."

Loki's eyes narrowed. "Piss off, flying human."

"Thor's willing to talk without the wifey knowing. I've a burner phone as you tend to appear in the strangest of places."

"Mm. Like when I ran into you in a sleazy massage parlor near Carnegie Hall?"

Loki was still a bachelor then, but Tony wasn't.

"I didn't know they offered sexual favors until the masseuse grabbed my dick. They weren't listed on the brochure."

"Eh he he he. I'll call when I've a chance."

They clammed up when Brianna exited the bedroom. "Can I go Daddy, please?"

Pepper followed. "Sorry. I blabbered the Tea shops chocolatiers add finishing touches to their masterpieces at this hour."

"You may." Said Loki.

Tony slipped Little Warrior fifty euros. "Buy me an eclaire and keep the change. Badass ate mine."

"Yay! Thank you!"

They left and Stark unpacked the phone. "Here's your chance while Brianna's absent. Text him, 'Garage?'" ***** Jane distracted Astrid while Thor sat in the cabin of his truck and the brothers soon cleared a lot between them.

"I'm not upset you deceived me anymore Loki, nor is Mother. Yet I'm worried Father's making her life miserable. Are you fearful he'll scorn Brianna?"

"Not up for discussion and relax, brother. You've been gone a while. Mother's gonads have grown."

"She's taking male hormones?"

"I meant she's less meek? Have you dropped the toaster in your bathwater?"

"That only happened once." Thor defensively replied. "I was late for a waxing of my package and hastening making breakfast. Nor have I recently smoked Jane's medical marijuana. She threatened torture were there not enough to ease her menstrual cramps again."

Loki deadpanned. "Norns you're a tit, fruit of Odin's loins.' "How's Astrid?"

"Coping. Jane said she'd do anything to see you again."

"Coping amidst stewing over my bedding of another 'Midgardian hoe' I've fathered a child with, and the humiliating circumstances involved."

"Believe me, brother, she too is no longer angry and the diaries contents stayed within Stark's walls. It isn't my story to tell."

"Your software needs reprogramming, impersonator. Thor Odinson was never so thoughtful of his sibling."

The blond laughed. "He's turning over a new leaf."

Loki had sought privacy in another room and suddenly heard Brianna desperately calling him. "I have to go. Don't tell Astrid we spoke yet." Upon opening the door, she threw herself at him.

"Daddy!"

"What happened?" He asked Pepper.

"We neared the shops door when she gasped, bolted for the elevator and started frantically pushing the button."

Brianna was trembling. "Darling, why are you frightened?"

"We can't stay here, Daddy! She's down there!"

"Who is?"

"Hannah!" She cried. "I'd know that red headed witch anywhere!"

"Shhhhh." He soothed. "I promised they cannot hurt you, remember? Stay here with..."

Brianna wrapped herself tighter around him. "No Daddy! Don't leave me!"

She was so distraught, he couldn't. "I won't, Min Lille. Shhhhh."

"Virginia's gone." Said Tony.

Loki's head shot up. "Back to the shop?"

"Yeah. Said the witch looked familiar and went on a hunt."

"Fuck! Get her back here!" Brianna jumped from Loki's voice. "Sorry Min Lille. Tony, now!"

"Erm..why?"

"Because they've met! If Pepper confronts her, she'll vanish!"

[claryaastark]

Endlessly

04162020

March 25, 1920

Dear You,

I am writing this letter just to let you know that I still miss you so much, my love. Being far from home is not easy, I made a lot of adjustments here in our dormitory. We do a lot of scheduled daily tasks, also the housemistress is very strict. I cannot eat my mom's special calderata, I don't really like the foods here, the amount is small and it tastes way too different from my mom's cooking. I miss the smell of my father's brewed coffee as I woke-up every morning. I miss the sound of the water from the Estero and the cool breeze of the wind from my window. I miss Binondo, and most importanly, you.

It's 8:30 in the evening, the housemistress will do the head count and evening checking at 9. Writing this letter for a short span of time is not easy, especially now that I am expressing how much I long for you. I still remember the first time that we met. I was riding the Kalesa with ate Maria, on the Calle Escolta. And I saw you lifting a sack of flour on the famous Pan De Sal bakery. You held my hand and help me get down from the Kalesa to get the orders from your shop. And that moment of time, I fell inlove with you. I remember the times when I used to sneak from our house's window during dark and we are going to ride the boat and roam along the Estero de Binondo. You are holding my hand, and we are both hoping not to get caught. As we look at the stars above, and the moon shines through us. We used to do a morning walk on the Calle Real Palacio and enjoy the scent of the fresh Kalachuchi. You also love to pick a pink gumamela, and put it beside my ears while telling me how lovely I am and how much you want to be with me.

I can't also forget the time that you held the guitar and sing for me in the Plaza Moraga during the town's feast. I was so happy that time and I feel like I was the luckiest woman in the world. You held my hand, and asked for the permission of my parents. And we danced. We danced under the stars while you speak to me, telling me how beautiful I am that night, telling me how much you appreciate me. After that, you ask me to marry you and I said yes. We were just so happy.

But the world is uncertain and things always change. Two months before our wedding day, a letter came to me. I was accepted by my dream university here in Baguio City. This is something that I've been waiting for a very long time, this is my dream. But chasing this dream for myself also means losing you. And I don't want that to happen. I tried not to chase this dream for myself and just be happy with you. But you pushed me, you pushed me to do this for myself. You made me choose this dream instead of you. It's hard, but you promised that you will wait for me. Even if it takes forever.

But promises are meant to be broken. I know that you won't read this letter and there is no chance of seeing you again. But I want you to know, that I still mourn for you. That I will never have the chance to move on and get over from that night. That night when a letter came to me telling that you died from an accident. It still feels like a dream to me. All our hopes, all of the things that we planned together were just gone, in a snap. I can't do anything, I can't force things to happen. It hurts, I still cry every night my love. I miss you so much. And writing this letter is just my way to live in a dream. A dream that you and I are still together. Maybe another place, maybe another time. Till then, let's say goodbye I see you in another life. You will always be my love, my life and my everything. I know that will meet again, someday. Someday.

Forever Your Love

~

Today is March 25, 1970. It was so weird that I saw this letter out of nowhere while cleaning my dorm. And upon reading this, I didn't notice that I was already crying. I can feel the pain of the woman who wrote this. I don't know who this person is, nor the ending of their story but I hope that she found her happiness.

I pick the letter and put it on the box of my stuff. I insert my newly purchased CD on the Sylvania console stereo. This is a gift from my father before I left Cebu to study here in Baguio city. He knows so well that I love music so much and it was some sort of magic that makes me feel comforted. I played Let It Be, the last song that was released by my favorite band, The Beatles. Two weeks had passed since Paul McCartney stated that he is leaving the band. It was heart breaking especially for me, who is a big fan of this band. Sadly, I prepare for my morning class while listening to their last song.

Long day was over. Everything is just typical. Acads, people, routine. Though it was still tiring. I am a Fine Arts student in University of The Philippines here in Baguio City. Living an independent life is not easy. I miss my family so much, I miss my mom's cooking, my dad's silly joke as we spend our time under the mango tree during siesta. I miss my friends in Cebu, the sea, the farm. I miss everything about my home. The sun is setting and I am walking along the busy street of the Session Road while wearing my earphones. I decided to eat my dinner alone on Inihaws, my favorite restaurant here. While eating my dinner, I noticed a boy who keeps staring at me. I tilted my body to block his view, it feels awkward and creepy. As I continue to eat my food, I can see on my peripheral vision that he is still staring at me. I heaved a sigh and look directly to his eyes, I waved my hand and patted the seat beside me. Asking him to come and sit.

“What are you staring at?" I asked arrogantly.

He pouted his lips, pointing my plates and artworks. Ah, so he's looking at my artworks.

“What about them?" I asked him.

“They're nice and classic, I love them. Fine arts?" He talks so manly and attractive, uhh?

“Yup. There is just something that I saw this morning which inspired me for my plate today"

I explained as we both looked on the sketch of a woman riding a Kalesa, and a man who is holding her hand, they are both alive and smiling. They are the people on the letter that I read this morning.

The conversation went smoothly. I found out that he is an Architecture student on Saint Louis University, we are both into arts. I got no stuff to do this evening, so I decided to go with him as he asked me to have an evening walk along the Session Road. We talk about our interest, arts, music, things that we are fond of. We got a lot of things in common. He talks a lot, and I like how quick-witted he is as he tells a lot of jokes. We didn't notice the hour, it was already 10 in the evening. I do not as well, but I don't feel scared on this man that I just met few hours ago. I feel comfortable and we have this sort of connection like we knew each other on the past. We spent the night telling each other's story. We went to his small art room, and he painted me. He ask me to hold a plastic flower as I smile while he is painting me. It seems like I met a stranger, and this whole night is like a fairy-tale.

It was already 3 in the morning, we are sitting on the grass while we look on the city lights below. It was so beautiful. As well as the man beside me, he is lovely. I didn't ask for his name but it feels like I already know him so well. He tilted his head on my direction and caught me staring at him, he smiled and out of nowhere, his face turns sad.

“I'm married" he said.

I was shocked. I was hurt, and there is something that stings on my chest.

“I know you since we were freshmen, I first saw you sketching on the Inihaws. You are alone and you seem so committed with your passion. I find it so adorable, the way you move your hand, the way you put your hair on the side of your ears. The way you frown your forehead as you make some mistakes. I fell in love with you, the first time I saw you. Since then, I always follow you. I see you walking on the street while wearing your earphones. I always see you eating alone on the Inihaws. I always see you smiling on the street vendors, you are adorable as you say your good morning to them. And when I finally decided to introduce and show myself to you. My mom from Sagada called me. Asking me to come home. That day, I went home to Sagada. I saw my ex-girlfriend, and she has a child — our child. We were a stubborn, inlove teenagers during high school. We broke up just like a typical puppy love story. But I didn't know, that I got her pregnant. My son is already two years old when she showed up. She can't raise our child alone, so she decided to tell it to me and my family. Two months after, we get married."

My heart is aching as I listened to his story, I feel bad for him, I feel bad for us. I didn't speak a word. I just let myself stare on the city lights below. I can't process my thoughts right now. Feels like the fairytale is finally over. Surprisingly, he held my hand.

“I love my son, he is the reason why I am working hard to become an Architect. I love her mother, but not the way that I love you from a far. I fell in love with you and you deserve to know it. I was so happy loving you from afar, and thank you for that. Maybe another place, maybe another time. Till then, let's say goodbye I see you in another life, Stella"

He called my name, and he left.

Those were the last thing that he said that night. And I never saw him again. Maybe, maybe someday we will have the chance to love each other not just from afar. We will be together, someday.

~

March 25, 2020. This is it, this is the day that me and friends are finally seeing each other! After one year of not meeting everyone because of College, we're finally going out today. We chose the art exhibit as a venue for our date today. I'm excited! I kissed my mom as I went downstairs for breakfast, she teased me that our plan for today will be cancelled because of my excitement. I love my mom so much but sometimes, I hate her for ruining my moments hmp. I eat my favorite egg roll and decided to ignore her.

The time is 2:30 in the afternoon. I am already prepared for today's meeting. I drove the car and play my classic OPM playlist. I love music so much, and I can't live without it. Kamikazee's Tagpuan is currently playing, I bang my head and sang along with the melody of the song. It's 4 in the afternoon when I arrived at the venue. It is odd because I see no familiar face here. I opened my phone to ask where they are, and found out that the exhibit plan was cancelled during the last minute. And they decided to just eat on the restaurant nearby our place. I don't know what to feel, I feel bad for not checking my phone before leaving the house. I feel bad for being excited, mom is right. I don't know but I kinda felt lazy to go on the restaurant near our place because I traveled to get here for 2 hours. My excitement just all went down. I get in the car and think. Upon fighting with my thoughts I decided to just stay here and continue the exhibit plan, alone. It is a new experience though.

I went inside and everything feels amazing. I’m not an artsy kind of person, I don’t have any talents in art but one thing is sure — I really do appreciate art. I love to spend my time on looking at the green grass outside, the blue sky above and the beauty of nature. I do love aesthetic things because it reminds me that despite of being cruel, beautiful things on this world still exist. The ambience is nice, the people are few but I can see that they are enjoying the paintings inside the hall. I walk and took a photograph of the artworks. After that, I posted it on my instagram story and send it to our group chat to tell them that I can’t make it on our dinner anymore. And I decided to just stay here and stick to the original plan.

I roam around the hall and appreciate the beauty of art. While walking, a painting caught my attention. It was a woman with curly hair, and she was smiling from ear to ear. She was wearing a floral dress and holding a piece of rose. The woman seems so happy and I can feel the genuine emotion of the one who painted it. Is her boyfriend the one who painted her? It was romantic. Suddenly, I feel something weird and unexplainable on my chest, I can really feel something on this painting. Something that is connected with me.

“It was nice and classic, isn’t it lovely?”

I was shocked when someone has spoken out of nowhere, I tilted my head on the direction of the voice, it was a man. He was wearing a black shirt, and he is holding a camera. He is smiling sincerely while looking at the painting, weird but it seems like the voice came from the painting itself.

“Uhh yes. This painting feels so real and sincere. I can feel the emotion of both the painter and the subject” I said while looking directly at the painting. And I was smiling.

Our conversation went smoothly, and it seems like I found an instant date. He talks a lot and I found out that we were on the same University. He is an Engineering student, and he loves to play the guitar. I felt fascinated because I was attracted with men who are inclined to music. We roam around the hall and we were just so happy. Finally, long day is over and we bid our good byes. But before that, he asked for my phone number.

Oh shoot. I forgot to ask his name. But nevermind, I still have a lot of chance to meet him again. I smiled as my phone beeps and I got a text message from an unknown number.

“Take care, I had a good time. See you around” -Mr. Engineer

That’s the text message. I went home with a big smile on my face, the date with my friends have been cancelled. But I found a new experience today. Something more happy, and amazing. I lay in bed and look at the ceiling of my room along with its fake galaxy. I smiled as I remember the man that I met few hours ago. While giggling, I replied on his text message.

“Good night, Mr. Engineer! Had a good time too” -Ms. Psychologist.

To sum it up, we talk on the phone everyday. He always made my day, he always make me smile. He jokes a lot and he had a lot on his mind. He is quick-witted and very manly. After a few weeks of talking, I admit that I already had a crush on him. Along with that, we decided to spend our time together. And as time passed by, I am knowing him more and more.

We had the same interest in almost everything. We watched the same movies together. We listen to our favorite songs. We eat our favorite foods. Though we never share any of our favorite foods, especially him who can fight with anyone who touches his food, even me. We travelled places to taste various delicacies. We went to church regularly to pray. He became a part of my everyday. He loves picking a flower and putting it on the side of my ears. He loves playing the guitar for me.

It was really nice, to found someone who appreciates every little thing on you. Someone who can lend his ears and shoulder to listen. Someone who can cheer you up whenever you are feeling down. He loves kissing me, but loves hugging me more. I felt home and safe on his arms. It was weird but there is something that is telling me, that we really had the connection and we knew each other a very long time ago. All that he made me feel was something new. It was my first time, to fall inlove with someone. I had no doubts and regrets.

But the world is always uncertain, there are lots of things that we are unsure, so is us. We are just happy, and then in just a snap we parted our ways, and we fell apart. Maybe another place, maybe another time. Till then let’s say good bye, I see you in another life. I know that he is a blessing from God, and whatever it takes. We will meet again, someday.

Parang isang panaginip, Ang muling mapagbigyan, tayo ay muling magkasama.

Panatag na ang kalooban ko, At ika’y kapiling ko na Kay tagal kitang hinintay

I smiled as this classic song by Spongecola played on my car’s stereo. Today is 25th of March, 2025. And I am finally seeing him again. I smiled, a nervous smile mixed with excitement.

It was weird because last night, as I was fixing my stuff in our Ancestral house in Bagac, Bataan, I saw an old box . It was a collection of CDs, some of the albums are from The Beatles. And I saw a very old letter, the pen was already disappearing and it was already stained. The letter was from March 25, 1920. It was very old ; a hundred and five years ago. Along with the letter, I also saw an artwork. A sketch of a woman riding a Kalesa, and a man who is holding her hand, they are both alive and smiling on this artwork. I asked mom about this stuff, and she said that it belongs to my great grandmother, Stella. It was her stuff during her college days on Baguio City.

Anyway, after the very long wait. I am finally seeing him again.

The hall is full of people. I am wearing a red polka dots dress, I know that black is his favorite color but I want to show him something new. It seems like I was lost in the crowd and I can’t see him anywhere. But as I was walking through the sea of people, someone held my hand and whispered.

“You look so beautiful, baby. You never changed” I got teary-eyed as I heard his voice. Oh God, I miss him so much. I miss this man. The man that I lost and the same man that I found again. The long wait is over, we finally have the chance to be with each other. I hugged him tight, the only man that I ever loved, love and I will love wherever and whenever.

“Baby, I’m no angel, I’m just me. But I will love you endlessly” those were the words that I whispered through his ear.

“We parted our ways together, we fell apart but fate will always make a way for us. Time will always tell. In another place, in another time, we will always be together, our love is endless”

Words that I said, while directly looking into his eyes.

It’s 25th of March, year 2030. And today is our wedding day.

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: “ACE Operatives”

We’re back, folks! I have to say, I think overall this is one of the strongest episodes we’ve gotten since “The Lost Fable.” Are there still concerns? You know it, but on the whole I’ve got to give credit where credit’s due. So with that unexpectedly optimistic mindset, let’s dive in.

We open right on the group’s first mission and for a moment I was worried that, like with Oscar’s shopping, this time skip would be passed right over. Especially after we hear Pietro apologize for “holding onto your weapons for so long,” telling us that between the Academy tour at the end of last episode and this mission today, at least a few weeks have passed. Long enough for one guy to re-design multiple combat outfits and weaponry, plus an additional boost here and there. Luckily, the first part of the episode cuts among three distinct times: when they got their weapons, when they first heard about the mission, and this present day flight/landing, which as a technique I like quite a bit. It gives us a sense of each time while keeping us moving forward. No one is thinking, “Ugh. Do we really need to hear a mission briefing when most of last episode was learning about this plan in the first place?” because we already know this is taking place in the past. Just sit through the snippet and then the rest of the info will come through voice-overs while the group jumps out of an airship. Good balance of exposition and action.

What we learn in these flashbacks is that Ironwood wants to use an abandoned dust mine for the satellite’s launch. Only problem? It’s inhabited by a very old, extremely dangerous geist. Kudos to the writing team for the Volume Two callback. I’ve always been intrigued by Oobleck’s comment that grimm are capable of learning if they continue to survive and here we finally see an example of that. This geist isn’t just strong, it’s smart enough to hide in the mines themselves.

Shot over all this we see Atlas military personnel taking out the everyday grimm in the surrounding area, proving that their weapons can handle that task in most situations. Why doesn’t Ironwood’s robots have that then? Or as others have pointed out, something even more powerful like Penny’s lasers, or some of the upgrades the team gets? Chock it up to lack of funds... or simple plot setup. If the robots had been able to take out a bunch of grimm easy-peasy then there wouldn’t have been any cool premiere fight for our group. Then again, all of this casts their snarky comments about Ironwood’s defenses in a new light. Clearly they’re a force to be reckoned with when the plot actually allows it.

We likewise see the group receiving their new gear and... okay. Here’s where the griping starts. Though it’s admittedly small compared to most of my criticisms. First off, why is Jaune receiving a random scrap of Pyrrha’s outfit? Logically this makes no sense to me. Pyrrha’s body disintegrated into a bunch of dust. I can buy Jaune incorporating other armor and fabric into his gear because they were living together and Pyrrha must have spares, but where did this come from? Did Pietro go ask a family member for a random memento for the (from his perspective) equally random teen that showed up? It’s entirely possible that I’m missing something---I’m sick as a dog at the moment and am probably one fever degree away from mild hallucinations---but the whole setup seems incredibly weird. We see Jaune open his box. We see his look of shock. He see him fingering a torn piece of Pyrrha’s skirt. But how does all that come together in any logical way?

More importantly... why? Why is this still a thing? I get it, Jaune is grieving, but to be frank this has been his one-note characterization for over three volumes now. More importantly, everyone else is grieving too. This is another case of the writing prioritizing what the audience knows over what characters know. Meaning, we got to see how close Jaune and Pyrrha were. We know they were in love, but outsiders like Ironwood and Pietro see them as a unified team. Why not give a scrap to Jaune, Nora, and Ren? Really, that’s what rankles the most: this continuing focus on Jaune over the rest of his team. Especially when that focus just leads us in circles of the ‘Jaune is sad’ variety. I thought we were supposed to be learning more about Nora this volume, so why not give her something to remember Pyrrha by? I realize we’re only through the third episode, but in a series that averages twelve each volume, that’s a fourth of our material gone. Please. I’m begging you. Enough about Jaune. We’ve watched him cry and rage and lash out for three years now. He’s gotten to move through every type of grief the writing could throw at him. Let someone else take the spotlight for a change.

(It’s also just all around weird because Jaune is smiling sadly, implying he’s moving on, but then we have Clover narrating about how they’re “going to kill this thing...” which reminds us of Pyrrha’s murder in a way not really conducive to the whole ‘moving on’ vibe... it’s just odd.)

Second gripe: why doesn’t Oscar get anything? I’ve written before about how overall the group still treats Oscar as the outsider and boy oh boy, do we see that trend continuing here. I’ll speak about this more in a moment when we get to the Ozpin situation, but for this scene in particular there’s no reason he shouldn’t be included. If Jaune can get a cool addition to his shield after updating his own outfit, Oscar can get a cool addition too. Take five seconds to have Pietro point out that, as a random farm kid buying combat gear for the first time, he didn’t totally hit the mark. Here are a few things to keep you safer. Hell, you could even have Pietro---who we have established goes above and beyond in his inventions---pull Oscar aside with an updated weapon and Oscar could have gotten all quiet, examining his cane, eventually thanking Pietro, but emphasizing that he doesn’t think he should change things just yet. Or without anther’s input. Or, if Atlas doesn’t want to waste funds on the farm boy let him get a haircut like literally everyone else! We could have allotted Oscar a few seconds of screen time instead of getting what we always get: the team banding together and him nowhere to be seen.

He’s a part of this mission. He’s integral to this mission. He is a main character now. It’s about time the writing started acknowledging that.

The final flashback, at least, includes Oscar a little more. I realize my screenshot isn’t the best, but the expressions here really do say it all: Ruby mindlessly geeking out over new tech while Oscar stands sadly in another doorway.

We hear him say, “Hey... Ruby?” before he’s cut off and we return to the present.

We’ll get back to him in just a moment. For now, the airship opens to reveal everyone’s new look, which isn’t actually a reveal because this scene dominated the trailer. 

Ah well. I have to say though, from here on out one of the main reasons why this episode feels strong to me is because of the overall dynamic among the characters. First, it was smart to break everyone up into different teams to search for a hidden grimm. If they’d tried to cram twelve characters into the same shot for the rest of the episode it would have been a disaster. Second, these smaller teams allow for the sort of teasing/comfort/playfulness we’ve grown used to among these characters, but have largely lost over the last two volumes. One of my favorite moments is when Yang is caught staring at Blake’s new haircut and we get a look at this massive blush.

Not to ship on main, but please note the parallel between this moment and Nora/Ren, two characters who are more firmly established as a canonical couple. Although... here when Nora compliments Ren’s hair he shuts her down pretty hard. There’s none of the casual indulgence we’re used to from him. Since when does Ren insist that Nora take a mission seriously, outside of making those requests in an equally teasing manner? Nora notices as much too, clearly upset, and Jaune is just... dense. It makes me wonder though if this is the direction they’re heading in for Nora. Give her romance troubles in the form of Ren pulling away now that their relationship has had a chance to sink in.

Not sure I’m a big fan of that. Granted, it depends on how they handle it, but on the whole I’m not really invested in reducing Nora’s rare and much needed development down to a cliche ‘Oh no. A boy doesn’t like me’ plot-line. We’ll have to see though.

I also really liked the moment between Weiss and Blake a little later. This is how you tackle racism in your story. Not by having the group risk their world-saving mission by Weiss impulsively throwing civilians into the trash, but by having an incredibly privileged woman acknowledge her privilege. Weiss mentions how angry this mine’s failure made her father, but she doesn’t use the abuse she suffered as any sort of excuse, like she would have in the earlier volumes. Instead, Weiss acknowledges for herself how hard that time was and then apologizes not only for what he’s done to the faunus, but also for “all my complacency in it.” Weiss was a child. We can’t hold her to the same level of responsibility as Jacques. But as a privileged woman in this world Weiss’ complacency does perpetuate her father’s active sins. So it’s fantastic that she admits as much to Blake. In front of all the others, no less. To me, that’s a far better sign of growth than what we got last week.

It’s also during this time that we see Blake eyeing the SDC boxes with anxiety. It could just be bad memories. It could imply that she had some hand in this particular attack. I hope it implies that she’s thinking about Adam because... is anyone going to bring him up? Seriously? Two teammates killed a guy. The self-defense aspect doesn’t erase the fact that they each rammed a piece of a blade through his stomach and watched him topple over a waterfall. We should be dealing with this! Not reducing it to one hug from Ruby right before a major battle. Hopefully this is setup for some (now long overdue) reflection.

Meanwhile, an interaction that doesn’t work as well is when Ruby comments on how freezing she is and Weiss notes that without proper equipment or aura insulation you can freeze to death in an hour. So... is that what the group is doing then? Wasting precious aura whenever they’re outside because Blake wants her arms unzipped, Weiss wants bare spots around her chest, and Yang needs to artistically keep one leg and one arm totally unclothed? The issue is not, “How does the group stay warm?” because plenty of stories have logistical questions like that and unless you’re a fan overly invested in the minutiae, you shrug it off. When is the group going to the bathroom during these endless missions? Who’s carrying pads for when three of them hit their periods at once? No one cares. Rather, the issue is that the writing draws attention to the question and then fails to answer it. Just like they did when suddenly death via cold was something that had to keep them in the creepy town when death via cold was never a concern up until then. Where was hypothermia when Yang insisted Ozpin hash out all his secrets in the snow? It’s a rather convenient ‘Sometimes it’s an issue, sometimes not,” situation. Obviously aura isn’t doing much to keep them toasty though if Ruby feels the need to comment on how cold she still is. And that attention then invites further questions like, “Why then are they still dressed inappropriately for the weather? Should we expect them to fall more quickly in battle because aura is going towards making sure they don’t freeze to death in under an hour?” Better to just leave it alone.

Talk of the cold leads into Oscar though because Yang comments, “I suddenly don’t feel so bad about leaving Oscar behind.” Which... no. You did leave him behind. Don’t try to make that palatable with stupid upsides like, ‘Well at least he’s warm!’ Worse, the group does nothing to justify that decision. Realistically I can buy why they’d leave Oscar out of this mission. We’ve established that this particular grimm has already taken out a lot of people and, without Ozpin, Oscar is still a newbie fighter. With the exception of the train and one grimm in the premier, I don’t think Oscar has fought many grimm at all. So really, it would take two sentences to establish this. Tell us that this mission is way out of his skill range and throw out that he’s training with Ironwood or something. That’s it. That’s all it takes, but the writing bypasses that and leaves us with, ‘The group left Oscar behind... for reasons?’ Which, in the context of his entire time with them looks really, really bad. Because they left him out of the dinner in Haven. And the hunt for supplies at the farm. And in retrieving the relic. And left him alone at the Argus house. And left him out of the upgrade joy. We’ve now established a trend of the group outright ignoring Oscar, whether it’s during bright celebratory moments or agonizing traumatic ones. Doesn’t matter, he’s left out of the loop, and now we see the same thing happening here. Rather than a simple and logical, ‘Oscar isn’t ready to fight a super old geist,’ what we’re left with paints the situation as, ‘Oscar is left behind because Ruby disagrees with him.’

Because without clarification, that’s the context. We get another (very short) flashback where he (thank you, thank you) points out that what they’re doing to Ironwood is precisely what Ozpin did to them. (Although Oscar tries to soften this by saying it only “feels like” the same thing.) Ruby looks guilty for a second... and then that’s it. We’re back to at least a day later where they’re on this mission, they’ve left Oscar behind, and Ruby is re-explaining why her morals are sound.

I’ll admit I’m pleased that Yang points out that they agreed no more lies and no more half-truths. I honestly didn’t expect her to say even that much against her precious sister. But still, on the whole this dilemma isn’t much of a dilemma at all. It’s reading precisely like the airship debacle: a few characters giving token disagreements but when push comes to shove whatever Ruby wants, Ruby gets. You know how above I pointed out how much I like the split present/past business so that we can have a balance between talking and action? Yeah, that only works if the talking is generic exposition. We don’t need a long-winded discussion about the details of this mission. We do need a substantial discussion about the absolute hypocrisy the group has fallen into. That split between past and present is important. Are you honestly going to tell me that over all these days---if not, arguably, weeks---the group never once had a conversation about this? That we don’t get to see that downtime filled with some actual growth? And we could have easily achieved that with the current setup. Extend Oscar’s flashback into something significant, leaving the geist battle for next week. Let him be angry for once, furious that after all the shit they put Ozpin through, and by extension him, they’re just going to turn around and do the exact same thing without even an apology? An acknowledgment that they were wrong? Or create space to have that discussion now. Harriet comes out of the mine saying a part of it has collapsed and they need time to clear it, giving Team RWBY the chance to really hash some things out and disagree for once. Instead, as expected, secret keeping is framed as the right decision without anyone but Oscar acknowledging the hypocrisy in that. They even go so far as to say, “Why don’t we play along for a while before me make any major decisions.” Newsflash:

Graphic design is my passion, all.

Overall it’s not quite as pro-protagonist as it could have been, but it’s not great either. We’re left with the fact that the group has this time sitting with their own lies and apparently, after all that, what they’ve settled on is denial. Great. Fantastic. I hope Oscar finds new friends at the Academy who encourage him to really call them out on this later.

We also learn that Ruby gave the relic back to Oscar. So the writing is self-aware enough for her to acknowledge that carrying it around on her belt is a horrendously bad idea, but not self-aware enough to keep her getting it back in the first place? Imagine you hired someone to transport a priceless painting to your super safe vault and then when it finally arrives you go, “Actually, you did such a good job getting that here I think it’ll be safer in your hands as you go about your life. Rather than the vault I specifically built for it.” Except the painting is a magic relic, the vault is also nearly impenetrable via magic, and the transporter is now a 14yo who, as established, is the weakest fighter of the group. For the love of Ironwood’s characterization, please let that relic be a fake.

Really, on the whole that moment could have been touching... but again, context. ‘Here’s the relic back that I basically stole and then ripped all Ozpin’s trauma from him by wasting an invaluable question.’ Yeah. All the while everyone is still talking as if Ozpin isn’t even there. Ironwood, in his ignorance, has been the one person to actually address him, despite the fact that the entire group knows he’s listening in. You know that feeling when you’re sitting with a bunch of people you’re not particularly close with and it’s clear they’re deliberately not including you in the conversation? Yeah, it’s like that only a thousand times worse. No wonder Ozpin still hasn’t tried to come out. No one cares about his vessel, they still actively hate him, and they’re all hypocritical to boot. I’d stay hidden too.

Anyway, back to the actual plot. Qrow has been paired off with Clover and at first we get a really excellent conversation about teamwork. We as the audience know precisely why Qrow prefers to work alone, but when he slips and Clover manages to catch him, it functions as a fantastic counter. See? Qrow might have bad luck, but this is precisely why he does need to be around others. They can help him when things get tough.

However, that message is severely undermined when it’s later revealed that Clover’s semblance is good luck.

Not only does that remove the previously stated wonderful message---because now it’s not about Qrow learning to accept help, it’s about how Clover’s semblance just conveniently cancels his out---it’s just an iffy stretch of my suspension of disbelief. Really? Out of all the people they could have met, that Qrow could have been paired with, he happens to find the one guy with the exact opposite semblance to him? Clover is an incredibly handsome and charismatic guy. He’s the leader of the strongest kingdom’s strongest team. He just happens to have the best version of Qrow’s greatest weakness. I know I said I wanted more passive semblances, but I would have preferred something other than this heavy-handed introduction.

Although... are they passive? I had to pause the episode for a moment when Qrow throws out, “sometimes I can’t keep it under control” because excuse me?? There are times you can keep it under control? Since when? How? I know we’re loose on our semblance rules here, but c’mon. Is Qrow’s entire life governed by a trait outside of his control or not?

We see a similar issue cropping up at the end of the episode when Harriet informs Ruby that there’s “something else” going on with her semblance. Look. RWBY isn’t Dragon Ball Z. The characters don’t need to tap into unheard of powers every season to keep things interesting. As Yang herself points out, Ruby already has super special silver eyes. 

Her semblance is speed and transformation and transforming other people along with her. Weiss is already a super special Schnee with a super special hereditary semblance that creates glyphs and summoned fighters of whatever she’s killed. Blake is already a super special Belladonna with ties to the world’s biggest resistance group. Yang... okay, Yang is admittedly an ordinary girl with an ordinary background and that’s one of the things I still love about her. She grows stronger through more training, better strategy, and turning any weaknesses into strengths---like her arm. It’s so much more powerful to give characters that kind of arc than to fall back on, “[gasp!] You were secretly special all along.” So who knows what else they’re going to add to Ruby’s semblance. Whatever it is, it’s not needed.

I will say though that semblance issues aside, I’m liking the Ace Ops way more than I thought I would. Given that introducing five more characters was, objectively, a bad move. But they’ve got real personality attached to them. I appreciated that Clover thanked Qrow for the save (they could have made a guy that ‘perfect’ way more arrogant) while the rest spent a good portion of the time teasing RWBYJNR like they’re little siblings. Which I adored. For the first time in volumes we got to see our heroes portrayed exactly as they are: teens in training. Nora says that it “feels like we’re an actual huntsmen team,” acknowledging that they’re not yet. They’re the students following the professionals, helping out without getting in the way. It stood out to me that the geist fight is identical to the one we got in Volume Four, with the exception that it’s way, way better. They come up with Jaune’s strategy to remove the limbs in an instant, rather than taking the entire fight trying and failing to do damage. I don’t think a single member of the Ace Ops took a hit, despite the fact that this geist was a huge threat to the rest of the Atlesian army. Like Team RWBY at times, there was seamless communication, perfect execution, and the one time they made a mistake? Ruby was there to help them out. I really appreciated that the writing had RWBYJNR sit this one out until their particular skills---in this case Ruby’s speed---was actually needed, as opposed to an arrogant, ‘How dare you not let us fight!’ where they endanger themselves and others by insisting that they know best. 

This is the RWBYJNR I want to see more of. Ozpin remains a huge, glaring issue, but if the writer’s can keep this sort of attitude in mind we’ll be making good strides away from the horror that was Volume Six. No more, “We don’t need adults,” please. As a bunch of adults just demostrated, they’re way out of your league.

Finally, we end the episode on Tyrian again. Showcasing RWBY’s new love of horror tropes, he appears beneath the flickering lamp light (complimenting the jump scare we got with Blake earlier on). He approaches Forest, the activist from the airship, and we end with Tyrian’s tail coming his way. Did he just poison him? Did he kill him? What’s the end goal here? Just sow chaos by leaving a bunch of bodies lying around? It’s unclear, but whatever is going on, Tyrian sure is busy.

Also, RIP #FRWBY.

Until next week!

Minor Things of Note

I like that Jaune and Blake both looked at their hair before we cut to them with new looks. Still not over Jaune’s style though. He’s french fry head now and no one will convince me otherwise.

It looks like Blake’s blade has been welded back together with a bit of yellow something-or-other...

Bad execution on an otherwise cool introduction to Marrow’s semblance. That was epic how he managed to stop both centipede grimm at once, but then Harriet just... slams them? Awkwardly? They don’t even disintegrate? Idk. Her end of that team attack didn’t live up to Marrow’s.

Team JNR has a very “headfirst approach.” True enough. Although, it’s not like they had an easy way to stop like their Ace Operative teammates. They did the best they could under the circumstances lol.

Jaune also has a landing strategy! I would have rather the writing just acknowledge that than give us that weird moment with Pyrrha’s fabric.

Not sure if I like Qrow’s new outfit or not. To be fair, that man would look stunning in a paper bag, so I’m not sure I’m an objective judge of any change here. Also to be fair, my own fashion ‘skills’ leaves something to be desired. So I think I’ll just bow out of this particular conversation.

[screamingatanemptyroom]

I Can’t Eat Love pt 10

Here it is guys! Here’s part 10, we’re at 23k words! I made the master post with links to the story and will just link that at the top from here on out! 

Link to master post here. 

Enjoy! 

__________________________________

Ten months passed, faster than I could have imagined.

The store “Prosperity” took off. True to her word, Milane had improved upon my own designs, and after showcasing the dresses at a few parties, (I had reluctantly resumed my social responsibilities, reminding myself it was for the business), and the orders came in, faster than we could fill them. Expanding production, Milane hired a few more seamstresses, and even then we were stretched thin. We continued making and selling new designs, however, with plans to open up another store before the next season.

The Duchy thrived alongside my business. The officials I “retired” left without further complaint, and their replacements worked hard to gain experience and independence. Until they were completely trained however, the bulk of the work was left to Nile, Terrence and Me. We met weekly, going over accounts and day to day issues in great detail. Fortunately we worked well together and rather than resenting the hands-on approach I took, they seemed relieved.

“The Duke just always told us to do what we thought best in difficult matters.” Nile confided one day. “But with no idea of the overall financial state of the Duchy, it’s hard to make these sorts of decisions. With you in charge, things are running much smoother.” 

Seeming to realize the improperness of what he had said, he panicked, waving his hands.  “Not saying that the Duke is incompetent! He’s a very kind man! And as a leader… of course he…” he paused as if trying to think of something else good to say about my father.

I chuckled, trying to relieve the poor man’s misery. “It’s fine. Father’s gifts lie… in other directions. “ I had no idea as to what direction that was, but as long as he stayed out of my way, I was content.

No longer hemorrhaging money, I was able to work on improving the infrastructure of the area, improving the safety and stability of the roads, increasing the schools and preparing some previously unused land for farming. 

Marile, looking ahead to our second store, convinced me to use some of our profits to open up a vocational school for seamstresses, taught by people she trusted. We charged a minimal fee, funding those who couldn’t afford it, and waited excitedly as they gained skill. I planned to hire some of the top students upon graduation, and as the number of skilled workers increased, the duchy of Armeny began gaining a reputation as the place to buy well-made clothes.

The success spread, and I was already being approached by other trades to expand the school to cover their professions as well.

__________________________________

I continued my lessons with Jim and Nate, although the assigned reading was decreased as more and more of my time was taken up with the business and the duchy. Instead, Jim had me bring practical issues and questions to the class regarding economics or governmental structure, and we worked though it together. I was often able to implement some of the answers we came up with, continuing to benefit my home.

 Nate and I settled into a comfortable pace. He was the calm one in class, frequently mediating between Jim and me when we began to get too loud about a certain subject. He listened well, and when he did speak up it was with purpose, often coming up with ideas that caught me by surprise.

“You should build a place that provides food for people who are starving.” After class one day, he was escorting me back to the carriage in thoughtful silence before suddenly bursting out with that suggestion.

I stopped in my tracks. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s something that you obviously care deeply about, and since you’ll manage to free up some extra funds with the changes we came up with today, I thought it might work! ” He continued as he stopped as well, gesturing excitedly with his hands. “Think about it, a place where people who are starving can come by and have a meal. You can ask for donations and volunteers to offset some of the costs, it should be doable…”

He trailed off, staring at me with an uncertain expression. “Sorry, I got excited on my own, maybe it isn’t the best idea.”

__________________________________

“Do you have any food?” A young boy pulled on my leg, the bones too prominent on his already small for his size face.

I looked down at him, already feeling lightheaded and weak. I hadn’t been able to find work. I hadn’t had a full meal since Rig’s gang had been split up most of them lost, dead or imprisoned. I had begged on the street, only managing to earn enough for some bread, hardly enough to fill my stomach. I wanted to cry, but held my tears, they wouldn’t solve anything.

The boy saw my distress and slumped, sitting down beside me, as I hung my head, feeling hopeless.

“It’s okay.” He mumbled, using a dirty hand to gently pat my head, trying to comfort me. “I’ll help you.” A small hard object was pressed into my hand. I looked down at it, surprised. It was a regular stone, a little shiny but otherwise there was nothing special about it.

“It’s my lucky stone.” He tried to smile, tried to appear brave for me. “You can have it. It will protect you.”

I thought about the bread in my pocket, it wasn’t enough to fill me, but for a child…

“Here.”

I handed him the bread, leaning back with my head against a wall, closing my eyes to keep tears from falling. I wasn’t going to last much longer. I had long given up hope for myself. But that boy... maybe he would survive.

And that was something.

__________________________________

“Lenora?” Nate called out, concerned. I shook my head, I had been silent too long, thinking of a different life, a different fate.

One I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

I smiled at him; ignoring his visible shock at I did so. “Tell me more about this idea of yours.”

__________________________________

Between running the Duchy and the business, as well as continuing lessons and socializing with the nobility to advertise our new dresses, I was busier than I had ever been before in either of my lives. But despite the long hours and the hard work, I was surprised to find I was happy.

There was still just one thing keeping me from being fully content: 

The royal etiquette classes continued, despite the mastery I had displayed. Mrs. Rendler had greatly increased the speed at which we moved through topics as well as the difficulty in each lesson. The advantage I had gained over the extra three years of training in my previous life dwindled, and I reluctantly began scheduling in time to study those topics as well. 

I grew more and more frustrated each week. With all the other demands on my time, why was I bothering to waste any on learning something I would never use? If I were planning on trying to continue my engagement to the prince this would be worth it, but not even the chance to tackle management on a national scale could tempt me to stand by that worthless prince’s side.

I hid it, as best I could. Mrs. Rendler tried to keep the lessons fun and varied, likely sensing my lack of enthusiasm. We learned new dances, tried exotic foods and studied different cultures. It was interesting and I appreciated the effort the older woman placed on keeping me focused, but there was still one, unavoidable problem with the lessons:

Queen Amerande.

She was present every single week, as she had been in my previous life. Smiling, cheering me on, saying silly jokes to try to make me laugh, and picking arguments with Mrs. Rendler to distract her whenever the lessons were getting too difficult for me … she was every inch the mother I wish I had.

But it was a lie, and every minute I spent next to her was pure torture. 

It all came to a head around ten months after I woke up in this second life. The etiquette lesson had completed early. I was packing up my books, planning to take a walk in the gardens to waste the time before my lesson with Jim and Nate in the treasury. Before I could leave, however, Queen Amerande held out her hand, gently stopping me.

“Can we talk, Lenora?”

I nodded stiffly, disliking the thought of spending any time alone with her.

Her smile slightly sad, she gestured for me to sit down, and after I was settled continued.

“Has your mother returned home yet?” The discomfort on her face made it clear she knew this was not going to be my favorite topic.

I sighed, leaning back and shaking my head. “No, she’s still with her family staying in the southern province.”

Or so she tells us. I thought of the contents of the file Rig had brought me, the second assignment I had given him after the blackmail for the duchy officials. It had only confirmed what I already knew from my previous life, but it had hurt more than I wanted to admit to see it in writing.

“She’s been gone almost a year!” Queen Amerande muttered, looking furious for a few moments before poorly hiding her anger behind a smile, trying not to upset me. After being surrounded by expert liars like Angela and Edith, it was almost amusing to see someone who couldn’t lie well.

That’s not true though is it? She lies all the time when she says she cares about me. My brain whispered to me, but I shrugged it off, not wanting to be distracted by the topic at hand. She was already asking another question.

“Will she be back soon?”

I wish she wouldn’t. In my last life, her trip had only lasted a few months, but that had been due to limited funds and our large amount of debt. Once I had most of our debts cleared, I had sent her some money, and thankfully she had continued to extend her trip as much as possible. The servants seemed grateful for the break from her critical presence and my father… he was happier than he’d been in years. But as relieving as this time away was, it couldn’t last forever.

“She’ll be back in a few weeks, before my sixteenth birthday.” I answered, watching her eyes light up at the topic.

“So yes, about that…” Queen Amerande hesitated, “I knew your mother hadn’t been… around, and your father…”

“Forgot.”

“I’m sure he… remembers… deep down.” She looked angry again, but not at me. “But the point is, I didn’t want you to have to plan your own party, so I’ve been making some arrangements.”

“...” 

“Nothing that can’t be canceled if you don’t feel up to it, but I’d really like for you to have a chance to really have fun and celebrate with friends. You’ve been working so incredibly hard lately.” She smiled. “I know I don’t say this enough but… I’m so proud of you. I heard about the work with the duchy and the vocational school and even that charity to help feed those in need, it’s so amazing. YOU are amazing.”

She turned to the side to get something from her bag. I sat there, trembling, filled with anger, barely able to contain it. My fists were clenched, so tightly that the fingernails dug into my palms, starting to tear through the skin.

“I know it’s a little early, but I want you to have this:” She pulled out a necklace. It was beautiful, thin golden chains delicately interwoven, with a small sapphire amulet hanging from the longest strand. She placed it into my hand. “My mother gave this to me when I was a girl, and although I’m not your biological mother, I think of you as my own.”

My ears were ringing, the jewelry in my hand was cold, but felt like it was burning my skin

“I love you dear, and I always will.”

I could barely breathe, it felt like knives were stabbing me in the heart, I sat there frozen, staring at the gift I had once thought meant everything, but meant nothing.

“No matter what.”

__________________________________

“I love you, and I always will.” Queen Amerande hugged me, patting my back comfortingly with one hand.

I returned the hug, unable to hold back my tears of frustration and embarrassment. After being publicly humiliated at my own birthday party, I had come into the backroom to hide, She had been planning to give me her present, but instead found me a sobbing in a corner, and immediately dropped on the floor, ignoring the creases and dust that gathered on her expensive formal gown, comforting me. Once I had calmed down, she handed me a beautiful necklace, one I had always admired as a child, and reached out, wiping a tear from my face.

“No matter what.”

__________________________________

Thud.

The necklace slipped from my hands, falling to the floor between us.

“Liar.” My voice was quiet, but in the otherwise silent room she could clearly hear me. Her face paled and she tried to reach out for my hand, only to have me pull back, avoiding it.

“Lenora, what…?

“Stop lying. Please.” I forced the words out through gritted teeth, tears gathering in my eyes. “You won’t love me like your own child, and you won’t love me NO MATTER WHAT so please. Don’t lie to me. Don’t fool me into trusting you when you don’t mean it.” 

I stood up, planning to leave, but she ran after me, standing in the doorway, blocking my only exit.

“Let me out.” I ordered, throwing etiquette and caution to the wind.

She shook her head furiously, her carefully styled hair coming slightly undone with the force of the motion. “No! Not until you tell me what this is about!” She was shaking, but her hands gripped the doorframe tightly, refusing to move. “I’m not lying when I say I love you like my own daughter. I’m not!”

“Easy words to say.” I was sneering, hating that my voice broke with tears instead of sounding stronger. “But when your precious son drops me in a few years, and I’m disgraced, then you’ll forget all about this ‘daughter’ you love so much!”

“…” She stared at me, horrified. “You think he… that I… “ She was stuttering, trying to work through what I had said. “Ronan wouldn’t cast you aside. And even if he did I…”

“I’m not an idiot, Your Majesty. So don’t treat me like one.” I interrupted her, laughing, but it was an unpleasant sound. “I’m not so foolish as to believe that a boy who has absolutely no interest in me will keep this engagement the moment he finds someone he likes better.”

“…” Queen Amerande was silent for a few moments. I noticed she looked upset, saddened at my words, but she didn’t look shocked, not at all. She had seen her son’s lack of interest in me as well. She knew exactly what kind of person Ronan was, and that he was capable of doing exactly what I said. I continued onwards, not wanting to hear any excuses or explanations.

“And WHEN he casts me aside. You’ll move forward just like everyone else will, without a thought spared for me.” I clenched my fists, wanting to run. “You’ll forget all about me. So please, keep that necklace. Give it to the woman your son actually WILL marry. Or a grandchild whenever they have one. Someone you truly care about. Not a placeholder. Not me.”

Having said what I wanted to say, I pushed past the Queen, running out of the palace. I skipped my lesson with Jim, getting into the carriage. And it wasn’t until I was there, protected by the window covers and safe from prying gazes, that I finally relaxed, put my head into my hands, and cried.

[fuckcanontbh]

confessions in plain sight *stozier*

So this is for @ceftali in @stoziersecretsanta gift exchange! Sorry if this is late for you, but it is officially two hours into Christmas for me! This is my first time writing these characters so I apologize for any OOC-ness that happens. This is also my first contribution to the fandom, I hope you enjoy!

Note: bold lettering is Richie’s handwriting, words in [brackets] are actual song lyrics. Does contain swearing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun beat down on the group, water dripped from their hair, and despite everything huge smiles were on everyone's faces as Mike told a story from the farm. Today was the first day of summer, so all of their backpacks crowded the space as well. Soon enough the group would be dry enough to get dressed and hang out in the club house until dinner time. 

"Look, all I'm saying is that half of the problems in horror movies could be fixed if the characters weren't such idiots. I mean, really? If you see the murderer, why would you scream so he sees you?" Eddie's voice was the only noise as the group headed down into the club house.  "Y-yeah. But you have to t-th-think that it's for dramatic e-effect. The character's can't always have a s-s-satis-satisfying ending." The group's leader argued further with Eddie, the two of them continuing their debate in a corner of the clubhouse. 

"You're actually going to be starting school with us next year, Mike? Maybe now you'll actually believe us on how crazy school can be! All the stories we've told you about Richie and Bev are true, and Richie told me he's got some crazy stuff planned for our senior year!" Ben's excited voice came from another side of the clubhouse, Mike and Bev sitting in front of him on bean bags the group had added when winter made the ground too cold and hard to sit on comfortably. Stan watched all of this happen and then his eyes fell on Richie, who was unusually quiet as he sat in the hammock, reaching into his bookbag for something. "What are you looking for?" Richie jumped at Stan's voice, but quickly pulled a comic out of his bag. "Nothing but the newest X-Men comic, Stanny my boy, you'll never believe the kind of shit Storm cooks up this time!" Stan peered down at Richie, but the boy's grin seemed genuine so he shrugged and sat down, looking over Richie's shoulder. ~ "Alright, we'll see you tomorrow! Meeting at my house at four, right?" Beverly had already made her way up the ladder, but Ben was still waiting for an answer from Richie and Stan. "Haystack, you know I'll be there. Can't let your mom miss me too much!" Stan's hand reached out to smack Richie before he could stop it. "Tell everyone Richie has been uninvited." Ben simply laughed at their antics and shook his head as he climbed out into the little bit of sunlight left. 

"We should probably head out soon, did you want to come over for dinner?" The blonde stood and brushed imaginary dust off his shirt and khakis. "Uh, hell yeah! Mrs. Uris makes the best food around here! Don't tell Ben I said that, his mom's cookies are good as hell." "Yeah, yeah. C'mon Trashmouth, I think mom is making meatballs and spaghetti squash." ~ Stan's house had been Richie Tozier free for about thirty minutes when Stan noticed Richie had left his bookbag next to his bed in his haste for dinner. The zipper was mostly undone and everything was one trip away from being all over Stan's floor. The boy rolled his eyes and bent down to zip it up when a small notebook caught his eyes. The book itself was simple on the outside, but it looked like a bunch of random things were also stuck into the book, making it thicker than it needed to be. It also looked like it was almost full, a slim part of the back of the notebook was still flat. 

"Just leave it alone, Stan, it's none of your business." The boy brushed his teeth and put on his matching blue and white striped pajamas before climbing into bed. Minutes seemed to drag on forever before Stan stopped fighting himself and turned on his lamp before he grabbed the notebook. "It's probably just some dumb jokes Richie's thought of...or maybe some songs he's working on?" ~ 'Science HW due Thurs 28th' 'hang out after school @ quarry' '[Somewhere I'd never ever known, right at the back of my head, it hit me like a flashlight lighthouse beam of light]' ~ "Seems like it's just somewhere for him to put all his thoughts. Wonder who the song's about..." With the idea that the book was just a glance at Richie's mind as it worked a mile a minute, Stan continued reading. ~ 'Bev is the best!! girl offered me smokes even after i had to convince her skipping mrs. hepburns class was a good idea.' 'FUCK BOWERS' 'Math HW due Tues 4th' '[Cause you talk to me and it goes over my head...]' 'operation: get haystack the girl of his dreams walk her to class!! maybe walk her home sometimes? don't offer too much help bc bev hates that! write more of his sappy poems' 'gotta stop with the your mom jokes, not funny anymore' 'why is history so boring? REMINDER: ask ben to explain' 'start saving money-no more big spending at the arcade' ~ Stan scoffed at the thought of the curly haired boy giving up his favorite past time. "What's he even need to save money for anyway? He's already gotten that truck of his." ~ 'work @ 12-9 sat, sun and @ 5-12 mon, wed, fri' 'do i have an "it" factor? don't wanna miss out on making my mark on the world.' 'i don't even think he knows he does it. soft little smile on his face when he gets to a difficult problem, who does he think he is???' 'ma and dad fought all last night again. big bill asked what was up but i didn't want to talk about it. comedy is a good distraction' 'work @ 12-9 sat, sun and @ 5-12 mon, tues, wed, fri' 'glad i saved up some money, had to buy groceries again. ma's getting real bad again. haven't seen dad in a few days.' 'can't believe i got lucky enough to have such good friends. billy invited us all over for a horror movie marathon, ben and bev were put in charge of snacks. seems operation: get haystack the girl of his dreams is in motion. good for him! now if only i could get bill, mike, eddie, and stan lovers...' '[you've been on my mind boy girl since the flood]' 'ma passed out on the couch last night, guess it's a good thing i'm a lot bigger now. carried her to bed then went for a drive.' 'i swear he gets prettier the more i look at him' 'haystack just told me he scored a date!!!' 'HW due wed 18th' 'dad came home last night. got a good earful from him. maybe i should just stop talking? not like i got the nickname 'trashmouth' for something good. wonder if anyone would even notice' 'taught myself how to make chicken alfredo, actually got ma to eat with me.' 'i think i'm gonna tell him' 'nope. not gonna tell him. there's no way it would end good. out of all of our friends he's the least likely to want me' 'they say it is better to have loved and lost than never to love at all. but then it's 2 am and all you can think about is him, and you know he isn't thinking about you' ~ Stan snapped the book shut and quickly shoved it back into Richie's bag, thoughts flooding his mind. "Who is this boy Richie is crushing on? Is it Eddie? Eddie does yell at him a lot...and they have a bunch of classes together." "I didn't know things had gotten so bad at home. Mrs. Tozier used to be a saint.." "Is Richie okay?" He couldn't pin point why, but as  he clicked his lamp off, Stan's chest hurt, but before a tear could escape his eyes he rolled over and pulled his covers up to his chin. ~ "Hey Rich, you left this at my house last night." Stan held the bag in-between them, his eyes refusing to meet Richie's, his chest still tight like the night before. "Stan the Man! My savior, got some important goods in here!" The blonde's eyebrows raised, finally looking at Richie's face just for the boy to look away quickly. "Can't lose my comic so soon now can I?"

"My mom made cookies!!" Ben walked into the living room,  plate piled with chocolate chip cookies in his hands. "Ben Handsome, you are nothing if not the son of a saint, if you know what I mean." Richie dived for the plate, one cookie already in his mouth and three in his hands. 

"Beep, beep, Richie!" Eddie scoffed and bumped the boy's shoulder, taking one cookie from Ben's plate. Stan watched as Richie's shoulders deflated, and the brunet ate his second cookie much slower. Before he could say anything Mike and Beverly's voices took everyone's attention towards the TV. 

"We're not doing more horror movies, we did that like two weeks ago!" Beverly was swatting at the movies in Mike's hands, trying to reach across him to put her VHS into the VCR player. "She's not w-wr-wrong Mike. Let's just do the Disney marathon." At Bill's words Mike sighed and gave in, backing away from the TV so suddenly that Beverly fell forward slightly. 

"Did you see that foul play my good man? Foul play I say!" Richie nudged Bill just to be shrugged off as the boy grabbed a cookie and moved to sit on the couch. ~ "I think I'm gonna go ahead and head home you guys. I'm getting one of those notorious Tozier headaches." Richie stood behind the couch as the credits to Bambi played, bookbag slung over his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, bye Richie." "See ya, Trashmouth." "I think I'm gonna head out too, gotta help my mom clean up a bit before my aunt stays with us." "Dang, bye Stan." "Have fun with that Stan!" ~ "Hey Rich, think you can give me a ride?" The boy nodded and started his truck, hurriedly throwing a couple things behind the bench seat of his truck. 

"Only the best for a prince, amiright?" If Stan didn't know better he'd say Richie's ears had gone a little pink. His truck started and he pulled out of Ben's driveway onto the road. 

"Are you actually getting a headache Richie? Cause if not, I wanna talk.." His hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter but Richie put on a smile and glanced at Stan.

"Always knew you could see through me. Don't know if we can have this conversation without your mother though, she wanted to be the one to break the news."

"Oh shut up asshole." Despite his words Stan felt himself smiling as Richie snickered. 

"I just want to say I'm sorry first. Because I shouldn't have pried. But I thought it was just gonna be stupid stuff. Maybe some black mail material."

"Wait, you read my fucking journal? Stanley that's fucked dude! I would never do that to you. I can't believe you went through my bag. Guess straight cut Stan isn't as honest a man as I thought. Dude, what is your problem?"

A red light had stopped them, and Richie was able to look at Stan in the eye now, his brown eyes angry, but also coming off as slightly panicked. 

"Look, I really didn't mean to get into your heavy shit. I thought it was just gonna be full of those little doodles you do in class and some new song lyrics. I didn't read too much of it Just a couple pages, maybe three tops! It's just got me worried about you."

"What did you read Stanley? Worried I'm sick? I can't really say I'm surprised." Brown eyes rolled and he clicked his tongue as he pulled forward.

"Sick? What- no. I'm worried about your mom and dad." 

"You know that's none of your fucking business. We're just fine at the Tozier residence. Nothing has changed, Went works all the time and Ma takes care of the house. Don't start talking like you know anything about them. Get out of my car, Uris."

"Rich-"

"No, I said I'd give you a ride home, and here we are. The Uris residence. Go help your mom clean up and figure out how to stay out of other people's business."

Stan sighed and hung his head as he got out of the truck, only turning his head towards the street when Richie sped off, a cloud of smoke following him. ~ "Beverly, I really messed up the other day." "Sweetheart, Richie is known for the theatrics, don't let it get you down." "Yeah, Stan, that boy is like a rubber ball, he'll bounce back."

A shaky hand worked it's way through blonde curls, brown eyes bounced around the room, landing on Bev sitting in the window smoking, the radio sitting next to her turned down quiet enough for them to talk over, and Mike sitting criss cross on the bed. 

"Stan, what even happened? I have never seen you this worried over some little fight with Richie."

"Look, I know it was wrong, but I accidentally read his very personal journal." Stan cringed as he said the words, already feeling Mike's eyes on him when Beverly whipped her head in his direction.

"How do you accidentally read someone's journal man?" "What did you read Stan?

Mike and Bev spoke at the same time, and Bev's cigarette was out before Stan could explain. 

"Look, he's just got some shit going on at home, and he doesn't want to bother us with it...andIthinkhemighthaveacrushonEddie." "What was that last part?" "I think he mighthaveacrushonEddie." "Stan, breathe sweetheart we aren't gonna yell at you." "I think he might have a crush on Eddie and I'm not sure why I'm upset about it." 

Mike and Bev shared a knowing look over Stan's down tilt head, Bev's eyebrows raised in a silent question that Mike answered with a nod.

"You may be one of the smartest most oblivious person I've met Stanley Uris." "You've had that boy wrapped around your finger since you became friends in second grade." "Guess you just didn't realize he had you around his finger as well."

Mike's words stung at first, but when Beverly pointed out who Richie's crush was, Stan's face lit up like a light. His cheeks dusted with pink as he met their eyes.

"You're being serious. Fuck, now I've really messed up. He thinks I hate him!" ~ "This is such a bad fucking idea. He hates you right now Stan." With a sigh the boy threw the first stone at the second floor window. It took three stones for Richie Tozier to open his window, and only one glance to see Stan before he was retreating again. 

"Wait, Richie! Please, I just want to talk. Can we go for a ride?" Stan watched with bated breath as the shadow at the window hovered another moment before it retreated.

"Called that one."

And then Richie was climbing down the siding of his house.

"Be careful! Why didn't you use the front door dumbass?" All Stan got in response was an eye roll and a thumb pointing to the car in the drive way, Went was home.

"Oh." "Yeah, oh. Let's go. Been itching to go somewhere anyway." ~ The only sound in the truck was the two boys' breathing and a soft static from the radio. Stan swallowed air and watched as they passed the movie theatre. 

"Look, I really am sorry. I just want you to talk to us more. You're acting like some shitty parenting is where we draw the line, have you completely forgotten that fucking clown?"

"I know. Sorry for being a brat the other day. I just don't like people to see that stuff, I have a reputation ya know? Comedian first, dumbass second, and softie never."  Richie turned left, leading to the outskirts of town.

"Yeah, wouldn't want to ruin this perfect "class clown" persona you've got going on."

"Stanley Uris, did you just use air quotes to describe my entire personality to me?"

A chuckle escaped Richie and the truck air suddenly felt much lighter. "You're a lot more than that you know. You're more than some shitty but perfect timed your mom jokes. We keep you around for a lot more than a laugh." "What else am I good at Stan? All I do is mouth off and tell bad jokes." Brown curls came down from Richie's bun as he shook his head, leading the two of them past a sign asking visitors to come back to Derry.

"They may be bad jokes, but they still make us laugh. You're always the first one to put aside time for any of us, all we have to do is ask. And- stop shaking your head. Who took the time when we were all younger to listen to Eddie explain which of his inhalers were for what and how to administer them? Who learned how to cut hair just to help Bev save money and keep it trimmed? Who helped Mike shear the sheep when Spring started just so he could hang out with us sooner? Who practiced endless tongue twister with Bill to help with his stutter? Who did all that? Richie Tozier did. You give us everything and never expect anything back. All I wanna do is give back. God knows you deserve it."

"Hey now, don't bring the big man into this conversation." Despite the levity of what he was saying, Stan could hear the tears on the other boy's voice. 

"I didn't mean to make you cry. You just have such a big heart, and I think sometimes you don't know what to do with it...I saw the notes about a boy. You know we wouldn't judge you for that! Shit, none of us batted an eye when Big Bill came out as bisexual, so why would we care. You deserve to be happy, Rich. I just want you to be happy." 

The more he spoke, the quieter Stan's voice became and the louder his blood rushed in his ears. Silence enveloped the truck again, and soon the tires came to a stop over a patch of grass. 

"Did you mean all of that?"

Richie Tozier was not a small boy anymore, he was all long limbs of 6'2, and had developed a jawline sharp enough to cut a man, but right now, in the dim light of his dashboard, swallowed by a grey hoodie and hunched over, Richie Tozier reminded Stan of that scared boy in the sewers. 

"Every last word. And I think you should know that a little birdie told me that I might be the inspiration for some of those lovely lyrics in your book..." Glasses nearly flew off Richie's face with how quickly he shot his head up, worried brown eyes magnified by the lenses. 

"Bev, that bitch."

"I wouldn't say that quite yet. She pointed something else out to me too. She said I've had you wrapped around my finger since we met in second grade, but she also said that you've had me wrapped around your finger for a while now too. And I've got to say, she's right. Can't believe she knows me better than both of us. But yeah, Rich, you've had me wrapped around your finger since you told my mom at age six that she had better get used to you because you'd be around for a while."

Richie put the truck in park, unbuckled and shifted to be more in the middle of the truck, and the yellow of the radio highlighted the pink on his cheeks perfectly. "Stan...I don't really know what to say. Still can't believe she ratted me out like that." 

"Say you're gonna let us in more. Say she was right. Say you want to give this a shot.”

"I want to give this a shot. I'm pretty sure I've been in love with you since we were twelve." A warm hand gently took Stan's as he spoke, squeezing gently before he scooted just a bit closer. 

"Slow down there Tozier, I've only just opened my eyes to the fact that you might be it for me, let me catch up before we start tossing the L word around. Buy me dinner first at least."

A genuine chuckle and Richie moved back to his seat, his hand still in Stan's. "How bout a late dinner at-", brown eyes glanced at the clock,"-nearly one a.m?" "Lead the way, Tozier. I'll be right with you."